#It doesn't have to be an either or situation

[u5an5]

Just watched Deadpool & Wolverine with polish subs based on dub and I have to be honest, there's much more funny stuff than I expected, considering that the rest of it made me glad I'm not watching it with actual dub

So, things that picked my interest:

Instead "207 when I watch Gossip Girl" he straight up says "207 when I watch porn" (Gossip Girl isn't especialy popular show here so reference wouldn't mean anything for majority of audience anyway, but to straight up say it instead replacing it?)

"Ok peanut, 'guess we're getting that team-up after all" got replaced with "Okej ptysiu, nie ma to jak seks grupowy", which translates to "Okay cutiepie, nothing better than group sex" (??? we're still in the first 5 minutes of the movie)

"you know what they say, when one door closes, your locker at work opens" translated to "Jak to mówią… Jak zamykają od przodu, to ładujesz się od tyłu" which translates roughly to "Like they say... when they close the front, you get in the behind" which I find kinda funny

Peters line about seeing Wade in suit comes of gayish cause he doesn't say he wants to see him in the suit again, he wants to LOOK at him in it again, you know what I mean

intead "This guy looks ready to throw it all away for me" he says "This cutie would gladly get hugged by my bowels" which is a lot more straightforward than I expected

Wades spiel to comic acurate height Wolverine is much more insulting and instead being all "what a cwute short king you awe" translates to "Oh fuck, a furball dwarf? Was there even dwarf like that? Furballs mommy drank lots of booze when she was pregnant? Maybe daddy was a ratferret? Don't even come near me, 'cause you surely have ticks"

"I need you to come with me, right now" to "Zapraszam cię na randke, i to natychmiast" meaning "I invite you to a date, and I mean right now" (Logan replies with "Złotko, nie kręci mnie to" which translates to "Sweetie, I'm not diggin' it" and by "it" I'm honestly not sure if he means Wade himself, the fact that Wade said he's only here because he's the Wolverine just a second ago, or because his suit looks like fetish gear)

"It's quite common to Wolverines after 40" to "It's normal when going trough menopause, I get it"

they replaced "peanut" to different endearments to not be repetive but the most often used one is "ptysiu" (ptyś is a choux pastry; if I had to translate it as english endearment, I'd go with cutiepie). its cute imo

Logans "bub" also got replaced by endearments/insults losely fitting situation but the stupidest one has to be Logan calling Johnny "misiu", which translates to "little bear" and let me tell you, it's HILARIOUS cause it's equvalent of calling a random guy "sweetie" but in the "your grandma asking if you want seconds (yes you do, no you don't have any say)" way

"my boy's wicked strong" is translated to "mój chłopak zna się na rzeczy". It's slightly like the papi situation from spanish dub cause yes, "chłopak"'s direct translation is often "boyfriend" but it is also used as "boy", "guy" or "dude", usualy towards guys younger/about the same age as you. However, the addition of "mój"/"mine, my" makes it much more angled towards boyfriend, wherever they wanted to or not. There are at least three different ways to translate it and make it less gae I know and the've still chosen this one.

They made, in my opinion, the "its a common curtesy to ask" "Its good thing I don't give a fuck" lines better by translating them to "you shoud've ask, thats polite thing to do" "and you can politely fuck off"

they replaced Star Trek reference with Star Wars one, using Han Solo instead Spock and idk. on one hand they did it to THE spirk moment but on the other they made, and I may be reaching, but it seems like covert reference to "I know" scene so ??? (star trek is nowewhere near as known as star wars here so they would probs replace it either way but it also can be just "star trek and star wars sound so much alike, they have to be basically the same, right?" haha joke)

them instead innuendos using the most over the top forms of insult that no one ever heard is kinda funny but only because I only had to read them; if I ever heard somone call somebody "kutasina" irl I would find a way for at least one of us to not be able to hear anything ever again ("cockleter" is my best attempt to recreate this horseshit)

If you guys want to share some treasures from your native dubs/subs, feel free to

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝚂𝙸𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁

𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙴𝙴

description: in which lucy bronze's younger sister can no longer hide her relationship. And honestly ... she doesn't want to.

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mapi leon x bronze!reader

part one here

part two here

part three of the 'hidden' universe - mapi's version

ona batlle x putellas!reader here

disclaimer: this is all fiction do not take any of this seriously !

warnings: swearing, mentions of previous assault, FLUFF, cuteness, social media frenzies ;)

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As the game came to an end, Lucy didn't even shake hands, the woman instead rushing off to find her sister, Keira apologising to everyone before following also, Ona not far behind.

Keira and Ona hung back for a moment, whispering together that Lucy probably needed to talk to Mapi and y/n alone.

y/n had been checked for a concussion, it turning out she had a minor one and some pretty severe bruising, but other than that, she seemed fine.

y/n was still a little shaken up, finding peace in laying in Mapi's arms and being tucked into her neck and collarbone. She smelt familiar, her arms were safe.

Mapi was running her hand through y/n's hair, whispering calming Spanish as they lied tangled together. The door slowly opened and y/n didn't need to look to know who it was.

"I really don't wanna fucking do this right now Luce." y/n says quietly, eyes still shut and Mapi continued watching her.

"I don't wanna argue." Lucy denies. "I just want to know my baby sister is okay." She continues and y/n sighs, pushing up from Mapi's chest, the blonde's hands falling to her lap, which y/n takes in her own.

"I'm okay, a minor concussion and some bruising, but everything's fine." y/n shrugs and Lucy sighs.

"Okay." She nods. Mapi looks between the two and sighs, sliding off the bed and pressing a kiss to y/n's cheek.

"I will be back." Mapi promises, before she and Lucy share a nod and Mapi walks out.

Lucy then clears her throat, watching as her sister suddenly becomes very interested in the bed sheet she had laid over her lap.

Lucy sighs and moves toward her sister, the girl naturally flinching before reminding herself where she was and who she was with.

Lucy's eyes sadden slightly and she slowly sits down on the side of the bed, her sister still looking away from her out of fear of another argument or more tears.

"Can you look at me?" Lucy asks softly, her sister gulping softly before looking up at her sister, eyes shining with unshed tears. "Oh kiddo." Lucy sighs.

The two seemed to move in sync as Lucy pushed herself to lay against the pillows, y/n instantly cuddling into her and letting out a sad cry.

Lucy held her younger sister, blinking back tears as she pressed kisses to the girl's head. Lucy whispered calming words to her sister who continued to cry in her arms.

"I've got you kid." Lucy promises as y/n calmed herself, tears not stopping but her sobs doing so.

"I don't like fighting with you. I don't like not talking to you. It felt wrong." y/n says, her voice shaky and a little hoarse from all the crying.

She pulled away from Lucy, reaching over to grab a tissue and wipe away any more tears which were on her face.

"I don't like fighting with you either." Lucy promises. "And I am sorry that I lost my temper, I shouldn't have done so." She promises.

"I shouldn't have lied about Mapi." y/n denies.

"Well, with the way I reacted, I can see why you did." Lucy chuckles dryly.

y/n sighs running a hand over her face as she shakes her head. Wanting to explain the entire situation without crying for once.

"I wanted to tell you, I did, but I know how protective you are and I didn't want to throw the team out of balance with something that could have been avoided." y/n begins.

Lucy stops, her eyes watching her younger sister as she tried to explain. Lucy watched with kind eyes, and open ears, something which her sister was relieved for.

"And I was going to tell you sooner, but then it was so blissful, just us two, no one else. And then before I knew it Alexia knew, Keira knew, and the next thing is you knew." y/n says.

"And I flip out and storm off." Lucy sighs.

"But I know why, I understand why. I lied to you for months, I'm dating someone older, and someone I work with. And I didn't once tell you." y/n says.

"It still didn't give me the right to get so angry, and I'm sorry kid, I shouldn't have shouted." Lucy says. "And you're not a kid anymore, and I need to accept that." She adds.

"But I'm still your little sister. And I love you." y/n says and Lucy chuckles, bringing her little sister in for a hug.

"You'll always be my little sister. And I love you too." Lucy promises.

y/n could have cried again, which she didn't want, with how relieved she was. Fighting with her sister ripped a part from her and left a hole in it's place.

"I can't say I won't worry about you in this relationship, but you are grown enough to look after yourself." Lucy promises herself.

"I don't have to look after me. Mapi does it for me." y/n admits and Lucy sighs.

"You love her?" Lucy asks, the two sisters not noticing the slowly opening door.

"With all of me." y/n nods. "She makes me feel safe, she makes me feel loved and she sees me." y/n continues and Lucy can't help but feel her shoulders relax at the knowledge her sister was happy.

"And she loves you?" Lucy asks.

"She is everything to me Lucia, and she will continue to be." Mapi says, the Bronze sisters looking over to the dirty blonde who was leaning against the door.

y/n smiled softly as Lucy stood up, walking over to Mapi where she held out her own hand.

"I'm sorry for loosing my shit Maps mate." Lucy says and Mapi rolls her eyes, bringing the woman in for a hug.

"I understand your feeling and the shouting - she is your sister." Mapi says as they pull away.

"You hurt her though Leon, and I will kill you." Lucy threatens despite y/n letting out an annoyed shout.

"Trust me Bronze, if I hurt her, I'll let you." Mapi promises and Lucy nods happily.

"Glad you're feeling better pipsqueak." Lucy tells her sister, leaning over to press a kiss to y/n's forehead. "We will have dinner tomorrow night, all of us." Lucy says and y/n grins and nods.

"Okay." y/n smiles before Lucy shares a smile with Mapi and then leaves the room. Mapi pauses looking at y/n as the girl let out a massive sigh.

"We are okay?" She asks y/n.

"Yeah, we are okay." y/n nods and Mapi smiles, moving over and pressing her lips softly against y/n's lips.

"Oh and the internet is going crazy over us." Mapi says and y/n chuckles.

"Nothing has been confirmed." y/n denies and Mapi shrugs.

"Not yet." She chuckles. y/n can't help but roll her eyes but smiles as she presses her lips against Mapi's.

"Not yet." y/n echoes.

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y/n just posted on her story

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twitter/ X:

username1: SO glad y/n is okay!

username2: I am so relieved y/n is okay - but now can we talk about her and Mapi????

^

username3: Can we talk about the fact y/n was attacked????

^

username4: I agree! There are more important things than if Mapi and y/n are dating?!

username5: y/n's new story holy shit!!!

username6: Mapi and y/n have to be together? And that is so cute!

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lucybronze just posted on her story

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y/n and Mapi both chuckled at the way twitter was going crazy of the two of them. Lucy's story basically confirming everything which had sent them all into a frenzy.

The two footballers were curled up on the sofa, y/n's head tucked into Mapi's neck as Bagheera stretched out over their laps, purring happily at the pets she was receiving.

y/n looked over at the TV, watching Strictly with a small smile, the Spaniard letting her watch whatever she wanted to keep her happy after her eventful day.

"Are you okay Amor?" Mapi asks y/n softly, the woman nodding.

"Yeah, just, I was scared today, his grip was so strong and I just didn't think I would get away." y/n admits softly, Mapi's arms tightening around her lover as she presses a kiss to her forehead.

"The guards were ridiculous! They should have acted quicker." Mapi hisses. "Todos deberían perder sus trabajos." She adds and y/n sighs.

They should all lose their jobs.

y/n presses a kiss to Mapi's cheek, closing her eyes briefly in relief of being home and warm with her love, not out on the cold pitch, hands in her hair, fear not the only thing gripping her to immobility.

"Se acabó mi amor, estoy contigo, eso es lo único que importa." y/n says softly

It is over my love, I'm with you, that is all that matters.

Mapi looks down at y/n, pressing her lips against her lover's and putting the love into her kiss, keeping it gentle as Bagheera huffs and jumps from the two, sitting on the other sofa.

"I love you." Mapi says as they pull away.

"I love you too." y/n smiles, snuggling back into Mapi's shoulder as she watches Diane spin.

"So, shall we go insta viral?" Mapi asks and y/n laughs as she leans over and grabs their phones.

"Lets just remember to put them on do not disturb." y/n giggles, texting her sister quickly to do the same. Because if they couldn't get through to her they would get through to Lucy.

Lucy thanked her and wished the two luck with the crazy fans sure to flood their comments as Mapi and y/n flicked through their potential photos, giggling at the phones they wouldn't use.

Once they had picked the photos, the two posted to Instagram, trying to control the answer with disabling comments, though it didn't work as twitter quickly set alight.

The two quickly switched their phones off, shrieking as they slid their phones away from them, sharing amused looks as they settled back to continue watching.

"Well, at least your sister didn't find out this way!" Mapi says and y/n bursts out laughing, making the Spanish woman grin.

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marialeonn16 just posted

Liked by keirawalsh, lucybronze and 268, 111 others

tagged: y/n

marialeonn16: Mi Amor <3

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y/n just posted

Liked by marialeonn16, lucybronze, and 389, 888 others

tagged: marialeonn16

y/n: MY love :) Thank you for all your well wishes.

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END OF PART THREE

thank you for all the love on these, enjoyed them so much! xx

[lotus-lost-n-found]

Some Batfam Headcanons because the brain never stops;

Jason hates being called "Bruce's Son". But he hates it more when hes called "One of Wayne's Orphans/Wayne's child" because fuck you I'm his son-! wait no--

With the exception of Damian, they rarely refer to Bruce as "Dad/Father". Either it didn't occur to them/didn't see the need to/thought it would be strange. But when Dick/Jason/Tim/Cass are tired or injured it might slip out. And Bruce might just crumble a bit at it

Doesn't mean they don't say it to their siblings when Bruce is out of Earshot.

"Dad said you couldn't." "What do you mean Dad said I couldn't use that mug? It's my mug!" "You snooze you lose Timmy Boy-" "Jason don't be an asshole-"

That being said Bruce says "son/daughter/child" at every available opportunity he can after he knows that they have acclimated enough that they wouldn't be uncomfortable/know they can tell Bruce that they don't want to be called that.

First time Bruce called Dick "son" in a way that meant "You are my kid" and not in a "This police officer just called me son with a brow furrow" way Dick grinned and carried on with the conversation. Later he wondered if his dad wouldn't like someone else calling him Son; but Dick thinks about the life he was given because of Bruce and thinks maybe his dad wouldn't mind.

Calling Jason "son" is a hit or miss situation, even before he died. The first time it happened he was confused, he didnt think that was the relationship they had and it made everything change for him. He got frustrated--not angry--with himself and Bruce at this sudden emotional turmoil. Wasn't he just the kid Bruce picked up in an alleyway? Wasn't he just some street rat in bright Robin clothing? (He lets himself believe that he can be Bruce's son. If for only a little while).

Tim cries after Bruce is out of earshot, it would've been a year or so after his parents died and he was adopted. He didn't think he could have been wanted like that again. Even if you think the Drake's had A+ Parenting or not, I don't think he would have gotten a lot of confirmation of being wanted otherwise.

Cass smiles, emotions carefully concealed under her expression. She's grateful she found Bruce and he doesn't mention it if she leans a bit closer in a request for closeness.

Damian doesn't expect anything less, he only appears satisfied. But also relieved that he has gotten the confirmation that yes, Bruce wants and accepts him.

[justmymindandstuff]

Can you do Aemond x f!reader? And the reader being a lot like Helaena (I'm projecting lol, I want an autistic reader basically). Just fluff between them, maybe newlywed?

Learn to Love you - Aemond Targaryen x WifeReader

summary: Aemond tries to understand his new wife, but you are too much like his sister. He can't get through to you. One evening he tries it with direct confrontation and is rewarded with a glimpse of you and hope for the future. After this evening his wife is not a complete stranger anymore.

words: 2.818

warnings: softAemond, a bit angst

a/n: based on the request above. Unfortunately it didn't turn out quite as fluffy as it should. I hope you like it anyway :) I'm not autistic myself and don't want to hurt any feelings with the portrayl of the Reader. I based her on Helaena in the show.

Gif not mine// English is not my first language// no use of Y/N // AO3 // not proofread// requests are open

Aemond moves quietly through the halls of his home. The Red Keep slowly goes calm. The sun has already set, and most have retreated to their private chambers. Aemond is tired and longs for his own chambers and his bed. He had spent the evening a little longer than usual talking with Ser Criston. The sworn shield of his mother and he had trained together in the courtyard in the morning. Criston had discussed a few improvements with him. If his sore muscles would allow it, Aemond would try out the improvements tomorrow. But before he can retreat for the evening, he still has a task to complete. He still has his evening visit with his wife to attend to.

His marriage is not really how he imagine it would be. It's been almost a week since you two got married. You've known each other for 10 days. When you arrived at the Red Keep and he saw you for the first time, he had been relieved. A pretty face and a friendly smile had greeted him. Aemond tried to get to know you and realized that you are more than just a pretty face. You are nice, polite, smart, well-read, but strange. Often you drift off into your own world. Captured by your thoughts. You will be in a place where Aemond cannot follow you. And he quickly realized that you can't stand it when he touches you.

During your wedding ceremony, you didn't touch him more than necessary. The touch of your lips almost triggered a panic attack for you. You tore your hand away from his. Aemond would have liked to hold your hand a little longer. On this night, he did not dare to lay with you. This didn´t change over the last week, so you are still a maiden. Not that Aemond has told anyone, and as far as he knows, you haven't said a word either.

Maybe it's because he is a stranger to you? Aemond doesn't really know what to do. He doesn't like the situation. But he also doesn't know how he should change it. His usual solution, Vhagar, will definitely not work here.

He tried to seek advice from his brother. I don't know. With Helaena, it was different. I knew her well before we got married. For your wife, you are just a stranger. Aegon is right but Aemond didn't know how to change that.

So he went to his mother. Give her time to get to know you.

Both pieces of advice only led him to visit you every evening and try to get to know you. However, you mostly sit there in awkward silence and do not look at each other. You still feel uncomfortable in his presence he knows this.

Arriving at your chambers, he takes a deep breath once more and steps inside. The room is still lit by a few candles. He closes the door and watches as you pace restlessly in front of the fireplace.

"You are later than usual." you say, stopping in your movement. Now that Aemond is here, the unrest fades a little. Still, it bothers you that he doesn't come to visit you during his usual time frame. It's actually almost time for you to call your maids so they can help you change and you can go to sleep.

“I apologize for being late.” Aemond says even though he doesn't understand why it bothers you. Have you already gotten your hopes up that he won't come today? You look at him for a moment and then nod.

Without saying a word, you sit down in the armchair by the fireplace where you sit every evening. Aemond takes off his sword belt and places his weapon next to the door. He had considered that it might make you nervous that he carries a sword with him. So he puts down his weapon every evening before he sits down with you. Fortunately, you know nothing about the dagger in his boot.

Aemond even had a dagger made for you as a wedding gift. A beautiful weapon, with a gracefully curved handle and on the blade, just before the hilt begins, is a small dragon embossed that is inspired by Vhagar. Aemond hasn't had the chance to give you this gift yet. He knows that you need to get to know him better in order to understand the thought behind it. You should always be able to protect yourself, in case he might not be able to someday.

He shakes off the thought and sits down in the other armchair next to the fireplace. You don't look at him, but into the flames. Just like every evening. When you start to speak in a quiet voice he almost flinches.

"Why are you later than usual?" your hands are playing with the fabric of your skirt. You haven't changed for the night yet. You´re never when Aemond comes into your chambers. Even your hair is still braided into tight braids. Aemond feels like a visitor in his wife's chambers.

"I discussed my training with Ser Criston. There were a few problems this morning," he replies honestly.

Your face shows no reaction as you respond. “Are you hurt?”

Are you worried about him? No. Why should you? He is a stranger to you. But he still worries about you even though you are a stranger to him. After all, you are married. He wished he could read your thoughts.

"No, I am not hurt. Even though I don't really want it, Ser Criston is always a bit cautious during training with me." he is trying to ease your worries. If you are worried. Again, he tries to read your expression, but your face remains still. Your only reaction is that you turn your head to look at him. The fire in the fireplace casts warm light on your profile and your skin shimmers almost like gold. Once again, Aemond notices how beautiful you are. You look at him, and your gaze prompts Aemond to continue speaking. "I don't want him to hold back because, in a serious situation, my opponent won't hold back either."

"Which serious situation?" you still ask in a quiet voice.

"I don't know. If my family is in danger." and then he adds quietly. "If you are in danger."

The corner of your mouth twitch slightly and you almost smile. Then you turn your gaze away again and look into the fireplace. Aemond suppresses the urge to reach for your hand in your lap. Silence spreads again between you. The uncomfortable silence causes a hot burning sensation in Aemond's gut. Still, he can't take his eyes off you. You seem a bit sad. He decides that it can't go on like this. Aemond has to swallow and gathers all his courage to speak again.

"You are not happy."

This time you turn not just your head towards him but your whole body. He is surprised when your gaze meets him and you look directly into his eyes. Rarely can you hold his gaze. Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you think. It takes a moment before you respond.

"No. No, it's just that it's hard for me. My father brought me here, and this is a strange place for me. All the people around me are strangers. I miss my family and my home. Everything I knew was taken away from me. I was used to everything at home. I had my routines and everything. It's hard for me to adjust to all these new things around me. But it doesn't have anything to do with you."

Aemond is surprised by your words and needs a moment to truly understand what you have said. Guilt overwhelms him. It is his fault that you were kidnapped from your home. Because you had to marry him.

"I'm sorry," he says. Now it is him who cannot withstand your gaze and he looks at his hands.

"I don't blame you." once again, you surprise him your voice is now a bit firmer. "It wasn't your decision to marry me. Just as it was not my decision to marry you. That was agreed upon by our parents." you sigh. "You are not happy either. And that is my fault. I know that I'm weird."

"No! I don't find you weird."

You laugh softly and at the sound Aemond's heart skips a beat. He is looking at you again, he wants to hear you laugh once more.

"You don't have to lie."

"I am not lying. I don't find you weird. You remind me of my sister."

Your eyes start to shine. "Hel. I like her a lot."

He feels a slight tug at his heart. Aemond knows that you usually spend your days in the company of his sister Helaena. He has seen both of you walking in the garden a few times or engrossed in conversation while eating. He would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous of Helaena.

"Yes, I know. Do you spend a lot of time with her?“

You nod. "Yes. I enjoy being with her." "What are you doing all day?"“ Aemond is clinging to every strand. Everything is better than this uncomfortable silence between you.

"Oh, very different things. Sometimes we read together, or she explains something to me about insects. Sometimes I read one of my poems to her. Or I’ll give her one to read."

Aemond is captivated by the sparkle in your eyes.

"You write poetry?" he asks, annoyed with himself for not knowing this about you, but Hel did. Your cheeks are slightly turning red, and for the first time, Aemond feels like he can read your emotions from your face.

"Yes, among with other things. I also enjoy reading poetry. My favorite poet is Marcus Hill. He writes incredibly well. My poems are not even close to being that good. But I don't just write poems, I also write short stories. This helps me organize my thoughts better. But I like most writing poems.“ you speak a little faster than usual, which reveals your excitement to Aemond. He can't help but smile at the sight. Now that you are passionately talking about your interests, you are even more beautiful.

Suddenly you jump up from your chair. Aemond's hand instinctively goes to where his sword's hilt usually is. In the next second, it becomes clear to him that there is no danger, and he relaxes again. You didn't notice anything because you turned away immediately and took a few uncertain steps through your chamber before turning back to him. Uncertain, your hands begin to play with the fabric of your skirt. You take a deep breath and then search for his gaze for a second before looking away again. Aemond leans forward a bit, tense with anticipation. Finally you start to speak. "Would you like to… I mean just if you want? You don't have to." You stop yourself, take a deep breath and gathering your thoughts. "Would you like to read one of my poems?" you ask softly.

Aemonds heart skips a beat and a pleasant warmth spreads within him. "Yes. Very gladly."

You nod, turn back around, and walk to your nightstand. You pick up a book with a leather cover and open it. Aemond notices from his seat that it is stuffed with written pages, and almost every book page is filled with your neat handwriting. You rummage through the loose papers and then pull out a page before you close the book again and carefully place it back in its spot. You are coming back to him.

"I wrote this on the day of our wedding," you say, handing him the sheet of paper. In that moment, your fingertips brush against his. The touch is so fleeting that Aemond is not sure if he might have just imagined it.

He turns his gaze away from you and directs it to the folded paper between his fingers. He wants to open it to read your poem, but before he has really moved his fingers, your hand shoots forward and holds his hand firmly. Aemond skin tingles and he lightly closes his hands around yours.

"No. Please don't read it here. That would be too embarrassing for me. Please read it later and tell me tomorrow what you thought," you say quickly. Aemond looks up again and directly into your eyes. He saw you that close for the last time on your wedding day in the sept. A shiver runs through his body and he can only nod. You also nod and allow him to briefly squeeze your hand before you pull back and sit down again in your chair opposite to him. He already misses the feeling of your soft skin under his fingers.

Aemond folds the paper with your face completely again and then puts it in the pocket of his shirt. Suddenly, this piece of paper is his most precious possession.

"Now you know something about me." you notice. Aemond can't gauge whether the fact bothers you or not. He hopes it  doesn´t. Before he can ask, you are already speaking again. "You like sword training. I could watch your training?” you suggest.

Aemond thinks about the training courtyard. About the loud clashing of the swords striking against each other, the sreams of the knights, the swearing and the rough manner of speaking among men. And then he thinks of you, his gentle, fragile wife. Sometimes the gentle background music that plays during dinner is too loud for you. You would hate it.

"No, this is not a suitable environment for you, my Lady. The men do not know how to behave in the presence of a princess." he explains.

"Oh."

Aemond sees how you stiffen a little again and turn your gaze back towards the fireplace. The fire is almost out. Aemond is afraid that the closeness he has found today will slip away from him again, and as a result, he starts to speak a bit too quickly.

"But if you want, I can join you on your walk tomorrow?" he is momentarily afraid that this will disrupt your routine, but you look at him again.

"Yes, that would be nice. I always take a stroll through Queen Alyssa's garden after afternoon tea."

Aemond must suppress a smile. He is, of course, well informed about your daily routine. Even though he hasn't really been able to talk to you until today, he has always kept a close eye on what you're doing. "I am happy to be allow to accompany you." his gaze falls on your hands folded in your lap, and once again, longing pulls at him to reach for your hand. "When we go for a walk. Would you allow me to hold your hand then? I know you don't like my touches. But...

"No. It's not your touches that I don't like.I don't like touches from anyone, regardless of who." you clarify things quickly. "But yes. I will allow it. I know about it know, so I can prepare myself for it. If I´m prepared I can hold your hand.”

This time Aemond cannot suppress his smile. A pleasant anticipation for tomorrow fills him and he feels as if he has made a significant step forward in his marriage today.

The ringing of the bell in the great sept makes you both flinch. Startled you look out the window, then you get up and walk through your rooms. "I have to call my maids and go to bed.It's already past my usual time."

Aemond quickly gets up as well and nods. Bad conscience about the fact that he disrupted your routine today weighs on him. He turns to the door and goes to his sword belt to put it back on. As he just fastens the buckle and turns to leave, you turn to him once more.

"Thank you, Aemond. Our conversation was good for me. I enjoyed it very much. I´m looking forward to our walk tomorrow and I'm curious to hear what you think of my poem."  and then you smile directly at him for the first time.

His heart starts to race immediately, and Aemond is sure that he has just fallen in love. Unconsciously, he places his hand on the pocket where he has put your poem. Then he returns your smile.

"Yes, I also enjoyed it very much. Good night, my Lady Wife. I will see you tomorrow."

"Good night, my Lord Husband.” you respond still with a smile on your face.  

Aemond nods briefly and then leaves your chambers. His steps are light, and he intends to speak with the steward first thing tomorrow morning so that he can arrange for the poet Marcus Hill to be invited to the Red Keep as soon as possible.

[theninthdoor]

⭒˚｡⋆ 🍓 pac || inside your crush's mind ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆ 🐞

𖦹 think of your crush, take 3 deep breaths and pick one of the piles below! lets see what is/was going through your person’s mind & if you have or ever had a chance with them. 𖦹 take only what resonates. if you feel like the pile you’ve initially picked doesn’t really apply to the person/situation you’re thinking of, it’s OK to pick another one. I'm also leaving some extra messages and keywords at the end of each reading. those may work as confirmation for some people, but if they don't mean anything to you, that doesn't mean that that's not your pile. what you should really take into account is the description I make of the person (your crush) in each pile, and that's how you will know if you have chosen the right or wrong one. please use your discernment. 𖦹 remember that this is all for entertainment purposes and that free will still exists. don’t feel pressured to do anything you don’t want to, just because your person thinks this or that, ok? 𖦹 enjoy, my lovelies!

Pile 1 || ☎️ cards: four of pentacles rx, death rx, knight of pentacles rx, judgement rx, the chariot

not you guys landing on the player's pile… omg So, yeah- Did you ever had a chance? For sure. Anyone would have a chance with this person, I feel like. This is someone who's either constantly in love or just can't stand being alone for too long. Maybe it's just their personality - being extroverted, a connection-seeker, always open to new relationships and whatever experiences come with it -, or perhaps they are simply that charming and the options never end for them. This does feel like someone who's very much a feeler, but maybe not the wisest or yet the most mature in general (or even the most emotionally available!!). For the most part, their relationships feel quite short lived, and mostly based on physical attraction. They may have had one or two longer ones, still (for some people in specific, it feels like your crush may have been in longer-term relationship that was very talked about and known about, and they may still be heavily associated with this ex of theirs). Now, when it comes to their thoughts and feelings towards you: I'm sorry to say it, but I just don't see them having cared or caring too much... They see you quite plainly (if they know you at all); you're just a friend, coworker or acquaintance. Yet, as I said, I feel like you'd definitely still be able to have a chance with them - all you would have to do is take that step towards them and get yourself noticed. Be confident about it! I think that's what attracts them the most to someone, actually: boldness. Flirt a little with them, and see where it leads you… It might not result in the most serious, stable or long lasting relationship of all time, but maybe you'll still get to have a good time together.

⋆ extra messages:

This totally feels straight out of a 2000s coming of age movie, or some rom-com set in high school, with your crush being the popular guy/girl everyone knows and is attracted to lol. Just thought I should add that in.

Milena. Mimi. Mario. Jet-black hair. Affluent neighbourhoods. Family business. Taking acting classes. Ankles/ankle bracelets. Big family event or gathering coming up soon (like a birthday, a wedding, some special holiday…). Talking about or someone's been worrying about frown lines recently. Jennifer. Janet. J surnames. Wearing a lot of orange lately, or having just bought a new orange clothing item. Ash. Ashley.

⋆ channeled song: The Bellamy Brothers - Let Your Love Flow

Pile 2 || 💄 cards: page of wands rx, ten of pentacles rx, knight of pentacles rx, the hermit, seven of wands

So, my sweet pile 2, here we have someone who has, for sure, noticed you before! Seven of Wands + The Hermit at the bottom of the deck = this person would do anything to get to know you a little better and/or to spend more time with you. There's something about the way you are or carry yourself that makes you stand out from other people - or perhaps you're just your crush's type and that's why their eyes are on you... I don't get a whole lot of communication or movement coming from them, so even if they talk to you, it doesn't feel direct; they're not letting you know how they feel; they're not openly flirting with you. This person actually feels very much like a Virgo or Capricorn Moon; logical, careful, slow moving. Once you get them to come of their shell and finally they feel ready to say something, though, you can definitely expect them to be very direct about it. At first they study you, consider the potential of this connection, and then they decide if they should go for it or not. If they do come towards you then, they won't waste any time, again. They're saying, you know… "Hey, let's go out one of these days. I'd like to spend some time with you." or "I really like your vibe. Would you care to go on a date with me, sometime?". It's quite dry and lame actually lol. They're still not flirting, exactly. They're just putting it out there that they're interested and want to explore this connection - again, very direct and logical about the whole thing. (And their flirting skills may actually suck, btw…) In the meantime, they may get closer to you by asking you about your interests, by sitting nearby in class or at lunch, watching your ig stories or something like that. It's the small things, and they're gonna take their sweet time with this. It's not something they are losing their sleep over; it's a case they are studying.

⋆ extra messages:

Is anyone here working or studying in a scientific field? Science feels very relevant. Ron, Rob, R names. Lab coats. Law; rules and regulations. College towns. Planning (or planning on attending) a big Halloween party - and putting a lot of thought into this as of late. Wisconsin. Big 3 Libra placements. Glasgow. Glass working/art. Gallows. Gallows humour. G surnames.

⋆ channeled song: John Legend - All of Me

Pile 3 || 🎧 cards: the chariot, four of swords rx, the magician, ten of swords, queen of wands, two of wands

Listen!!- Pile 3, please go for it!! Even if this doesn't last too long, I think there's great potential here for an absolutely amazing relationship/fling! The chemistry here is just insane… I don't know if it's this person themselves, or if it's actually the result of you two coming together, but I'm feeling HOT. I'm blushing. I'm excited. There's just so much passion here! I think this person is a smooth talker; not necessarily the most extroverted or talkative, but when they do talk to you, you can't help it but feel absolutely charmed. They are good-looking, smart, polite. I get a very venusian vibe coming them. They may put a lot of effort into how they look, not by vanity but because they genuinely like to take care of themselves + find it unmannerly to go out looking like a mess.

As for what's on their mind, my dear pile 3, I have good news for you! They have noticed you and thought about you before, and everything's very positive. They find you attractive, interesting, and a great catch, really. It also seems like they may have heard quite a bit about you (coming from others), and whatever was said gave them a very good impression on you, so even if you're not that well acquainted, they hold you in high regard already. However, with this 2oW, I feel like they may have other options, and if you don't make it clear that you want to explore a relationship with them, the opportunity might just pass you by. I actually don't see them making that move themselves, I'm sorry… There are other things/people holding their attention at the moment and for the foreseeable future. Still, The Strength rx + Queen of Cups at the bottom of the deck = the potential is here, and so is the chemistry I was talking about. Once you get this started, there's no stopping it! You'll be pulled in and taken on the most amazing ride.

⋆ extra messages:

E names. Emily. Emmett. Emerson. Soccer/football. Lia/Leah. India. Indya. I + IY/YI names. 2016 being a significant year - moving, meeting, Instagram following. June. Born on the 6th of the month. History. Brown hair and green eyes. Hazel eyes. Hazelnut. German family or travelling to Germany. Studying architecture or building architectural models. Learning french.

⋆ channeled song: Rihanna - Love On The Brain

Pile 4 || ♣️ cards: justice rx, page of cups rx, five of cups, page of pentacles rx, eight of pentacles

There's something very sad about this person and this pile. Your crush may have been or may be going through a difficult period, yet I feel like they've been doing their best to hide it. They laugh a lot, smile all day, joke around, but on the inside they are going through something that has been bringing them down. I think they feel lost, confused, alone. Maybe it's a family matter (like a divorce or some kind of separation), or perhaps it's just that, for some reason, they are now being forced to leave their home, friends and/or family, and it just hasn't been easy to them to accept and deal with that. There's a loss of stability here, and a loss of community. It could've happened already, too, by the way - they may already be in separation from their loved ones or away from the place they were used to calling home. On a positive note, I feel like this is temporary and they'll recover soon. It's just a low point for them. Also, they may be dealing with some concerns regarding their future and where to go next (professionally, academically, etc.), and that only adds to it all. As for the two of you, my dear pile 3, it seems like right now just isn't the right moment for anything to happen here. You can offer them friendship, some comfort, advice, support, but that's about it, I believe. This person has a lot to figure out at the moment, on their own, and whatever they have to offer you doesn't seem to be exactly what you need or want, deep down. It would lead to heartbreak, most likely. Still, this feels so sweet and so warm. So, maybe, you should give it some time and then give it a try… Because, honestly, I do think this person has some good feelings for you (or could grow some good feelings for you, if you aren't yet acquainted). They may not know what those are exactly, but I still think something really good could bloom from this.

⋆ extra messages:

A names. Adam. Adrienne. Greenland. Finland. Art class. Discussing or studying politics. Georgia. G names. Galicia. Meeting or seeing their father/father figure for the 1st time, or their father being mentioned in conversation a lot. Surgery. Torn ankle or some other leg/foot injury. Mockingbird. Buzzcut. Red nail polish.

⋆ channeled song: Billie Eilish - Bored

deck used || Tarot of the New Vision

(Disclaimer: Based on current energies. All is alleged and for entertainment purposes only.)

[bones4thecats]

Hello! I am 🫱🏻 anon! Could I request Malleus, Jamil, and Ace with a s/o who fears being separated from them?

➸ Separation Anxiety! S/O; Twisted Won.

Character: Malleus Draconia, Jamil Viper, and Ace Trappola A/N: These are short, yet sweet (I hope) Disclaimer(s): Not that descriptive panic attacks? Idk if that's a trigger warning though... meh, whatever you think it is

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Malleus Draconia ═════════════════════════╝

🐉 Malleus was clingy in his own ways. It came with being a Dragon-Fae, as they were known to cling onto the things they either found value in or something that they determined to be theirs

🐉 Because of that nature, he was almost always around you, and whenever you were away from him, he'd feel bad. Little did he know, you felt the exact same whenever he had to be away from you for too long

🐉 Your issues with separation was shown when you couldn't find him and hadn't seen him since that morning. You ended up curling inside of his room in a ball crying your heart out

🐉 Malleus appeared and after calming you down, asked Lilia what was up with you having issues with being apart from him. After being informed on your separation anxiety, Malleus began to keep you by him everywhere he went so you wouldn't get upset again

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Jamil Viper ════════════════════════════╝

🐍 Jamil isn't that clingy. He's used to not having many things to himself, after all, he does work for the person who considers himself to be his best friend

🐍 When you came into his life and actually got together with him, he became fairly clingy in a different way than what many would believe him to be. He would try to always keep tabs on you to make sure you were okay, he didn't want to come off as obsessed, but to others, he did

🐍 He found out about your separation anxiety when he had to go away to grab something from his home, leaving you with Kalim, who ended up speaking to another one of his siblings. You began to panic, and you ran to the nearest bathroom, curling onto the ground and crying

🐍 Jamil found you and ended up carrying you to his room to keep you calm and away from crying, hearing and seeing you crying just made his heart break. When you do calm down, he does research to keep you from breaking down again

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Ace Trappola ═══════════════════════════╝

🪅 Ace is unknowingly clingy himself. He always had an arm around your shoulders as he spoke to the others, and was almost always around you. From the start of the day till the very end

🪅 Because of this, he never had to notice your separation anxiety, as if never became a big problem. But when it did, let's just say he was far less than prepared

🪅 Unlike the others, Ace has no chill when you panic. So, he just kneels in front of you and nervously tries to joke around to get you to laugh off your fear, and when that doesn't work out, he ends up groaning and trying to hug you to calm you

🪅 It took a while, but when you did calm down. He joked about how much he deserved a reward for helping you out of such a sticky-situation. You know he doesn't mean to be mean, so you just chuckle and pat his head as you cuddle up to him

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

I do think that the fact that there's still a degree of "controversy" around the circumstances with which Ed and Stede had sex is quite telling of our (general, societal our) expectation that sex be made into something that is, fundamentally, uncomplicated.

In general, there tends to be an expectation that sex can be either sorted into two categories: Good and Bad. If a specific occasion where two people have sex can't be cleanly sorted into Good, then it's lumped right into everything else with Bad - this is how we still get takes that there was any sort of dub-con element to Ed and Stede's sex scene in s2e6 when that's just not the case at all.

Like any part of human connection and communication, sex can be, and often is, messy. Here are the facts about the circumstances under which Ed and Stede have sex for the first time:

They have just had an extremely traumatic day, during which they had to see each other being tortured, and Stede just did something that upset him deeply. Ed wants to comfort and support Stede right now.

Ed has previously expressed a need to "take it slow."

What Stede needs, in the moment, is physical comfort, closeness, and intimacy with his boyfriend.

When Stede pulls Ed into the cabin, it's intense and passionate, but Ed is not uncomfortable or upset in the slightest.

Stede waits for Ed's nod of consent before kissing him, and the two fall into each other at the same time. They are both eager to hold onto each other.

The morning after, Ed is in a GREAT mood. He continues to be in an excellent mood throughout their date, and is even the one who suggests they go enjoy Stede's fame at Spanish Jackie'z. Ed initially enjoys not being in the spotlight and giving Stede advice about handling fame.

Ed does not become uncomfortable or get in his head until he's talking with Jackie, they watch Stede living it up, Ed admits that he just wants to be a regular dude now, and Jackie asks him if Stede knows that. The trigger for Ed's fear isn't anything Stede has done necessarily, it's about him worrying that Stede, who is just enjoying fame for the first time, will choose piracy over Ed.

This situation, as with many realistic human relationships, is messy. Should Ed and Stede probably have waited to have sex? Maybe. He certainly would've stopped if Ed had asked, and Ed could've found other ways to comfort him and be with him. You could argue that Stede is choosing physical intimacy to make him feel better instead of talking about his feelings. They've just had a very shitty day, and Ed's going through a bit of a personal crisis right now, and it's very possible that anything they do will get wrapped up in those big emotions. But it's also undeniable that they both had a great night and very much enjoyed it in the moment.

And that's just...realistic. It's just how any aspect of human relationships can work. People are messy and complicated. And, importantly, even if Ed does regret rushing into having sex that night (which I don't honestly think he does, I think he was having a hard time saying "things are moving very fast and I'm terrified" and that was just an easy thing to latch onto), that doesn't negate the consent he gave in the moment or retroactively make the sex non-consensual.

[gothamhappiness]

Being in a relationship with Bruce Wayne: a journey - Nothing official, right? IV

It's a big series about an afab!reader who doesn't like Bruce Wayne and who still falls in love with him (he fells quicker and harder)

Reader's origin story // Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Warnings: no proof reading, wild cat!reader, mentions of sexual activity, soft!Bruce to you, you like to gently bully Bruce.

You knew that even if you had told Bruce that you wanted nothing serious, your relationship was actually shifting to something a lot more official.

Everyone was gossiping about the fact that the rich playboy of Gotham seemed to be only spending time with one girl lately. And you were pretty certain that indeed Bruce hadn’t had any kind of romantic or sexual relationship apart from you. You hadn’t either because no one really interested you. It didn’t mean you wanted to be “his” girlfriend.

You were still worried you would lose your credibility now everyone knew Bruce was seeing you. After all, the “son of Gotham” was always followed by paparazzi and you couldn’t hide your relationship forever.

At first, you heard whispers around you; you were just another girl to fall for Bruce. But you kept writing articles about the elite of Gotham and you kept pointing things out. When something was about WE, you simply informed Bruce you were going to publish an article about his enterprises. You kept doing your work. And the man never stopped you from doing so, because he loved that about you. You were ruthless to him, and he was finding it way too attractive for his own good.

The whispers quietened down.

Bruce took advantage of the situation by freely gifting you absolutely gorgeous dresses and jewels, without having to worry about “bribing” you anymore. He was inviting you to his favourite restaurants as well. 

But he was also eager to follow you to little cinemas and places you enjoyed and in which you were more at ease. You always ended up in a hotel room or at your place. You didn’t necessarily have sex, even if he often ended on his knees and in between your legs. At least until Batman was called for duty by Gordon or his kids (he made sure to finish you off before running away). 

After his missions, he almost always came back to you, and you always took care of his wounds and bruises. You were his safe place. His haven.

You never asked questions about what happened. You knew who he was and it was enough for you. You also knew Gotham’s media would soon enough talk about the last adventures of Batman. He was grateful you never interrogated him because he could forget about work when he was with you. 

His children, Alfred and even the Justice League noticed how his mood changed lately. Of course, he was still a grumpy bear but some of his usual anger and despair seemed to have died down. He was more relaxed and even more open to discussion. After all, when he was with you, and that you thought Bruce or Batman should have been better, you always let him know without sugarcoating it. He appreciated it even if it was quite a humbling down experience for him as well. More than once he hinted that he would love to have you working at Wayne Enterprises by his side, but you didn’t want to date someone who would also be your boss. Bruce didn’t answer back that if you were getting married one day, he could easily make you co-CEO.

After a few more weeks, Alfred told Bruce that maybe you could come over to the manor. Bruce hadn’t brought you at first because he knew you would have felt uneasy and judgemental there. And then, he wasn’t too sure he wanted you to meet his family. He had no idea how his children would react to you. 

And even if he loved them, he didn’t want anything to ruin your current relationship. Especially now it was getting obvious to everyone that you weren’t a one night stand, you weren’t just a girl Bruce fancied, you weren’t just some fun for a little while. It was obvious that Bruce Wayne was falling in love. Hard. 

And everyone was whispering about it behind his back, sometimes teasing even him right in front of him (but his deathly stares always made them shut up).

More importantly, everyone was curious about you. 

Of course the children easily found you and followed you around to discover who you were. They hated to admit it but you did seem like the perfect match for both Bruce and Batman. You were fearless, you were intelligent and kind. You were a true detective yourself.

They learnt about your past. They felt like you could understand them too. You knew poverty, you knew violence, you grew up with bad people surrounding you, and yet you decided to be a good person. You decided to stay and to fight for Gotham, even though you could have ran away. And they loved to read your merciless articles about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises. Of course, you calmed down once you started this relationship, but gosh they found some pretty good punchlines they loved to use against their mentor.

During the day, Bruce called you and offered to eat at the manor for once. You understood it meant that your relationship was getting even more serious than you thought, which worried you a little bit. It wasn’t your fault if you were a wild cat. You asked if he was going to introduce you to his family and he laughed.

“I didn’t have time to tell them how to behave around you, so not this time, love. Just you and me.”

“To behave around me?” you asked

“I’ve never presented anyone to them before. Not officially at least.” he explained

“But you want me to meet them?” you hummed

“They ask a lot of questions about you, and they love your articles, so I’ll guess at some point we’ll have to.” Bruce replied

“Sounds good to me… I just need to get ready for meeting all of them. You really need to stop adopting children, Bruce” you teased

“Can’t promise anything” Bruce admitted and you groaned

Unfortunately, the night you were supposed to eat and sleep at the manor was a very busy night for Batman. Alfred was kind enough to start chatting with you. He finally sat down next to you as you both enjoyed some tea while waiting for Bruce. You went along quite well and Alfred went to bed that night, very grateful for whoever sent you on his master Bruce’s path. You were some fresh air in the manor.

It was late in the night when Batman, Nightwing and Red Robin went back home.

Dick and Tim absolutely wanted to greet you and they sneaked into the dinning room as Bruce was quickly showering and taking care of his wounds. Tim was observing you with interest as Dick was being his charming self.

“So you’re the girl” Dick said

“People generally call me Y/N” you replied with a raised eyebrow and Tim chuckled

“Haven’t you read what she wrote about Bruce and Wayne Enterprises, Dick? Be careful, she might kill you with her words” he teased and you laughed

“Do you still stand by what you said despite the fact you are now dating Bruce?” Dick asked with a tilt of the head

“Oh yeah, Bruce is still a rich traumatised guy with a saviour complex, who adopts too many kids each year. The Brucie persona is complete bullshit and I still roll my eyes when I hear him use that voice” you nodded

“That voice?” Tim asked

“The “I’m the good son of Gotham so let me help you” voice” you replied with a roll of your eyes “Gosh, what an actor” you added and both the boys started laughing.

They instantly liked you.

“Why are you with him then?” Dick asked and you hummed in thought

“Despite everything, it seems that Bruce is actually… likeable and interesting”

“You seem disappointed?” Tim commented

“In myself? Yes, very much. In Bruce, well I’ll give him some time” you winked

The boys laughed again but they hoped Bruce wouldn’t actually disappoint you. You were such normalcy, fun and happiness in the man’s life. They were certain you could bring a lot of joy in the family too.

They knew you cared about him a lot more than you were saying when they saw how you got up and checked on Bruce when he entered the room.

“I’m sorry I’m late… Well I guess you were doing well without me” Bruce arched an eyebrow at the four of you; Dick, Tim and Alfred were smiling.

“Oh yes, I was just speaking ill of you, hon” you teased “All good?” you asked and he nodded

“Always when you’re around” he whispered to you before kissing you. 

It was the cue for everyone to leave the two of you alone. Bruce and you forgot about everyone else anyways.

--

PART 5

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

Taglist for this series <3

@Esposadomd

@moraxussy

@resident-cryptid

@legendarypiratecheesecake@randomnamedmira

[fxirybun]

🥂 PAC: what is your FS currently doing at the moment ?

FS stands for "future spouse" , the person you're going to marry and create a life together. let's see as to what they're up to at this time !

this is a collective reading ! take what resonates and leave what doesn't. i cannot guarantee 100% accuracy. take the pac reading lightly ჱ̒ ｰ̀֊ｰ́ )

ෆ⸒⸒ pile one

your future spouse is either physically or metaphorically on a journey at the moment. they may be traveling , relocating , or experiencing a transition in their life. i feel that they're currently desiring some kind of movement and how they don't want to be stuck or stay in just one place. they may also want to explore different places that they have never visited before. i'm sensing that your future spouse received some kind of letter ? perhaps a news that allows them to pursue their dreams or to leave this stagnant situation that they're facing.

this opportunity could make a significant impact on their current path. "finally" is what i'm hearing from them. i can see that your future spouse would grab this opportunity and act upon it swiftly. it's like they've been waiting for this moment to happen. there's something about an event that can give this person a sudden boost of energy within them.

i'm getting that this message came from a faraway distance ? an example would be living in a province and you receive an invitation from a city. there may be a person who lives on a different side of a country who's also close to your future spouse who decided to message them. i'm getting multiple messages. "wanna grab something for a drink ?" "there's a party over here" "you should come over".

i sensed that at first , your future spouse seemed to be thrilled to hear this exciting message yet, i'm feeling some kind of confusion coming from them. "this is new to me , i do not know this place". there's something about the location that makes them feel uncertain whether they would want to join or not. i'm also getting as to how they're wary about the people and the surrounding environment.

perhaps the kind of people who are in this place are all so "new" to them , similar to a culture shock moment. i'm receiving a scene from my head wherein the people wear very revealing clothes and how your future spouse feels a bit out of place. "blind date" it's possible that their friend is secretly setting your future spouse up with someone , not letting your future spouse know about their hidden motives.

this person could be a female or someone who has feminine qualities within them. though the "female" is more prominent in this reading. their energy leans more on the sensual side , very passionate and alluring. this person may have soft and delicate features. even so , your future spouse feels skeptical about this female figure once they meet them in person. they feel that this woman is hiding something from them or that they do not know this person at all.

after a while , your future spouse may want to know the truth from their friend as to why they're being set up with someone. they just want to have some fun and peace in their lives and not get caught up or involved with someone in a romantic setting lmao. “i thought this was supposed to be a party ? not a blind date" is what i'm getting from their energy. eventually , your future spouse would brush it off and enjoy the event throughout the night.

ෆ⸒⸒ pile two

your future spouse is currently dealing with heavy burdens in their life at the moment. there seems to be a challenging situation in their partake and how they have the urge to weigh down their responsibilities. i sensed that they were worrying about what the others may say about them ? 'cause i'm getting the word "discussion" + the show "gossip girl" and how prominent it was in this reading. perhaps your future spouse is in a stressful conversation and how it makes them feel anxious.

oohh i'm getting something about "leaked information" ? this is some high school-level drama 😭 it's like someone found out some info about your future spouse and they decided to spread it publicly , possibly being blackmailed or some sort. because of it everyone who is in the same environment as your future spouse is chattering about the so-called rumor.

gurl wait a min-- it's definitely a false rumor because whatever this information was is so far-fetched as to what that leaker may thought of. surprisingly enough it seems that your future spouse was waiting for their medical / lab results ? something that's related to health and how they've been focusing on their well-being these days yet it was misinterpreted as something else to which i cannot seem to point it out.

"one night stand". it's like they thought that your future spouse got into contact with some kind of transmittable disease that is related to sexual acts but it's not 💀 either way , i can see how they're trying their best to ignore those rumors and decided to focus on dealing with their confidential paperwork matters. i'm getting heavy themes of long-term stability , spiritual , emotional , and physical healing.

i feel that they're also grounding themselves amidst the chaos that they're currently facing. "let me do my own thing" , yeah they don't really give a damn about what others may think about your future spouse because they know themselves better than anyone else. i sensed that they're seeking balance in their life at the moment. i remembered earlier how your future spouse is dealing with too much work which lead them to feel fatigued or tired.

they may want to resolve their burdens quitely and in a rational way, a lot of reflecting for this one. all they could ever wish for at the moment is to have me-time and be in tune with themselves , being in a state of tranquility. hoping that the rumor dies down soon and everything went back to normal.

ෆ⸒⸒ pile three

i feel that there's a new female presence in your future spouse's life and how she's planning to take a visit. i'm also seeing them exchanging messages , emails , or texts with one another , discussing their plans for the future. it's similar to how someone is asking you as to what you're going to do after graduation. whoever this woman is , she seems to have something in her mind that she wants to talk about to your future spouse.

there's a swift movement of news that's coming on their way. it's possible that your future spouse may receive important information or messages from this female and how it is something to look forward to. perhaps there's a given opportunity or a project that was being offered to your future spouse that they may want to pursue.

i'm also sensing how this woman is trying to comfort your future spouse and how there's no romantic connection going on between the two of them. whatever this news may be it seems to be a negative one because i feel that your future spouse is experiencing some kind of worriness upon hearing it. they seem to be also stress , it's like they have lost something dear or important to them.

i'm leaning more so on their career side , it's possible that they may have been declined or rejected by a company or job that they wished to work with. for some of you , your future spouse could also be rejected by a university they hoped to attend yet their college application didn't meet what the university is looking for in a student.

"what am i supposed to do ?" there are a lot of what-ifs that are stirring your future spouse's mind at the moment. it was a once in a lifetime moment for them and when they heard about this saddened news they felt disheartened. thinking about it is gradually eroding their peace of mind and how it causes them to feel unease. they seem to want a change in their dynamic in life.

nevertheless , despite these worries that are consuming them , there will always be a light at the end of the tunnel. for as long as they remain an optimistic outlook , your future spouse will experience positive moments that are entering their life that may bring them short-term relief or satisfaction. it's possible that in the near-yet-distant future , they'll encounter an unexpected luck that aligns with their plans.

[eloquentlytired]

18+mdni

pairing: walter marshall x fem reader

drabble

tags: fingering — overprotective and controlling walter — kinda dark — dirty talk — teasing of pregnancy & breeding — bite mark — brief mention of bleeding wound

summary: walter’s controlling protection suffocates you. one day you try to fight it off but he shows you exactly why you shouldn't.

author’s note: I'm just horny for this man I have no excuse

ৎৎৎ

“say it out loud. admit what you did wrong.” walter orders in a gruff voice as you watch his hand disappear underneath your panties from the mirror situated before you. you jump a little when his knuckles brush against your bare pussy and recite your words again. he remains behind you, bending forward slightly.

“I turned off my location so you wouldn't find me.”

you're sitting on a chair that walter has personally placed before the body length mirror of your shared bedroom. on purpose of course. he wants you to watch as he does this; as he asserts back his dominance and reminds you of your exact place which is always near him. he wasn't always so protective but he'd gotten worse because of his job and you couldn't exactly blame him when he'd told you about the traumatic cases and the doctor visits — which by the way never helped. at first sharing your location was fine until you began receiving texts and calls that disturbed your privacy, such as ‘don't park there it's dangerous’ or ‘why are you in that place? you told me you'd visit the other one’ or even ‘that restaurant is too intimate for colleague dinners.’ to sum up walter’s way of caring had transformed into something controlling almost but breaking up with him wasn't an option either; not when you loved him so much.

you shift slightly on the chair until only your buttocks are brushing against the wood. your eyes observe the way walter’s thick fingers move beneath your underwear, through the mirror, and when he deems it impossible for his large hand to move like this he rips them off you. “remind me of the reason we keep your location on, sweetheart?” there is no sarcasm in his voice but there is much threat and promise of what he'll do to punish you. your legs spread willingly as a pair of thick fingers brushes against your pussy again, walter’s middle and ring finger sliding from your entrance up to your clit and creating a repetitive motion that has your legs shaking. “to keep me safe and sound.” you reply with a whine as walter nudges your swollen clit with his thumb. you moan. “good girl. it's to keep you safe so naturally when you turn it off, I can't fucking do that. can I?” he yells at you — he's never been angrier — but you're so stupid and shameless. and disrespectful.

you can feel an entirely new wave of wetness gush out of you as walter yells. your pussy clenches around nothing and he feels the shake of your cunt against his stained fingers. you want to cum like this, just by having walter yell at you and slightly tap your pussy. but then walter is doing more for you, sliding his fingers over your entrance and circling it slowly with his middle finger. “so ungrateful, so cold to me. after everything I do to keep you alive.” you want to deny everything, to fight back, but walter is sliding a finger past your hole and it suddenly doesn't really matter. the slide is easy and you're drenched, confirming your desire for him. walter hums to himself as he begins pumping his finger inside you and the slide of his second finger is just as easy — it has surely helped that he was teasing you for minutes before actually touching you like this. your pussy is wet and there's precum staining your inner thighs which are close to your heat. “walter—”

you moan again when he curls his fingers upwards and follows a fast pace. your legs shake and spread wider. your hands hug the arm that's using you, the one whose fingers are absolutely abusing your gummy walls. his warm palm keeps brushing against your clit as he fucks you with his hand, his fingers reaching deep inside you. “what will you have me do next, sweetheart? impregnate you so you can stay at one place like a good girl?” his words aren't helping with your arousal and walter knows you love this from the way your pussy is clamping down on his fingers, not letting go. he goes faster and the way he pumps his thick fingers inside that sensitive pussy of yours is too good, too much.

his mouth latches onto your throat from behind as he keeps grinding his palm against your clit. “is this what I have to do? lock you up and breed you until you're swollen with my kids? hm?” his teasing words make you whimper and as much as you want to play it difficult and shake your head, you don't. your head falls back on his chest and walter sinks his teeth into your shoulder, biting too hard that your skin becomes tainted with red colour. the pain assists your orgasm as you reach your peak, walter’s fingers fucking into you as you let out a shuddering scream of his name. he's right there, not bothering to wipe the blood off your shoulder when his bite mark looks so good. when he doesn't stop teasing your sensitive pussy, you whine and your hands try to push his arm away instead of hugging it like before.

walter doesn't listen but he throws you over his shoulder, his fingers somehow still stuffing your warm cunt. he wordlessly throws you on your shared bed and the words die in your throat when he looms over you imposingly, his hand reaching for his belt. “will you do that again, sweetheart?” he asks and you're immediately shaking your head, your back arching off the bedsheets because of the tone he's using on you. walter seems happy with your reply but not fully convinced. “w-walter?” your fear is like a bonus pleasure for him and he finds himself rushing to unclasp the leather around his pants. “I never said we were done.” walter growls and the way those blue eyes stared down at you prepare you for one thing alone; to receive a proper punishment.

[animasolaoriginal]

I n f a t u a t e d ♦️TWELVE

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE TEN◾ELEVEN TWELVE

As he drags her deeper and deeper into his world, introducing her to yet another dominant character, she quickly realizes it's all too much. Or is it?

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Praise kink. Free use/power play. Fem!Dom. Bondage. Fingering. Sex toys/vibrators. Double penetration. Overstimulation. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 9.2k

ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN

The worst thing about being measured isn't the act itself, but how this woman keeps handling her as if she were a doll, talking about her as if she weren't even here. She's glad he's with her, and his presence does give her enough comfort to endure whatever the seamstress does to her next, but it's still an ordeal she really doesn't want to go through. Even if it means he'll buy her new clothes, clothes that will really fit her body, not just randomly picked shirts and skirts and underwear that came always only close to properly fitting her.

He's putting in so much effort for her, probably leaves quite a sum in this strange store, and she is grateful, but she also has never been this humiliated in her life – and that is after spending an entire weekend with a stranger who choked her on his cock, fucked her ass as if it were the most natural thing and made her lose control over her body in the most mortifying way.

It is actually this other woman that makes her feel worse than he could ever make her feel (though forcing her to walk around with his cum leaking into her underwear and that woman definitely noticing is a weird little transition between the two). While he always made sure she was okay afterwards, she is downright mean to her.

Called her an object. Actually slapped her.

She also has cold, clammy hands, and the way her measuring tape cuts into her skin and pokes at her nipples and other sensitive areas is not how she expected to be treated here. Not that she expected to be brought to a tailor in the first place. The entire day (and it's only a little after lunch, she assumes) has been far from anything she could have ever expected. Packing up her stuff, leaving her apartment for the last time presumably, letting him lead her into a new life... It is, simply said, more than overwhelming.

The ordeal continues, and she is either staring at the floor, biting her tongue to keep quiet and still, or she's looking at him, how he leans against the wall, strong arms crossed over his chest, in his fancy suit, so tall and intimidating and strangely enough the only anchor she has here. His gaze is intense, and she can only imagine what he is thinking about, fantasizing about.

Probably how he will take her next, and the thought alone makes her squirm on her feet a little, the heat seeping right between her legs where his cum is still caked into her panties, warm and wet, initially a mortifying feeling (because she knows the other woman must have seen it too), but also weirdly comforting. His mark on her, almost as obvious as the countless bruises on her neck that still throb slightly when she moves her head.

But as with most of her aches, she's ignored them enough to almost forget about them. They're part of her now, of her situation, her life. She's still trying to wrap her head around it all. She's living with him now. Staying with him, more likely. Will he keep her in his bed, locked into his bedroom when he's not there? How will this go? Will he lock her up like a pet or give her more freedom? What would she prefer?

She doesn't know, and while she is caught in her thoughts about it, she suddenly feels a soft slap to her butt cheek that startles her. “All done,” the seamstress says in a mock friendly tone, and while she stares at her, she notices him walking closer, a cold “Tsk” on his lips that makes the other woman flinch slightly.

His hand closes around her wrist as he pulls her off the platform and against him, and she looks up in relief, focusing fully on him now, even though his eyes are fixed on the tailor behind her.

“I'll have your order ready by tomorrow,” she says, and he nods while his hand moves to her lower back, warm and comforting as he pulls her a bit closer.

With how she tilts her chin up to look at him, she doesn't notice what's going on behind her, and frankly, she doesn't care about the seamstress anymore. She wants to forget about this whole thing as soon as possible.

“Raise up your arms.” His voice makes her blink, and she realizes she has just stared at him without paying any attention at all. He's stepped back a little, let go of her, and now her dress, the little pale pink one he chose for her to wear, is in his hands.

She lets out a surprised gasp, but obliges and raises her arms, still focusing on him, though a little bit more present when he pulls the dress over her head and smooths it down her body. His hands slip around her neck and into her hair as he frees it from the collar, thumbs brushing over her jaw as he looks down at her, a strange mixture of a dark hunger and a soft admiration shining in his eyes. She bites her lip, a nervous gesture she's utilized a lot lately, and he raises an eyebrow as he watches her closely. She stops immediately, taking a shuddering breath.

He cups her face, his own a stoic mask, before he straightens up again and lets go of her, exhaling loudly. Without another word, he grabs her hand, nods towards the tailor she had already erased from her mind, and pulls her out of the room, back along the narrow hallways to the door they had entered through. Instead of turning to the elevator, he walks to the left, further into the belly of the building until they reach another unassuming door.

She's never been behind the scenes of these fancy department stores before (and she assumes that's where they are – the normal places she's bought clothes at before certainly didn't have their own tailors in hidden backrooms, just bored teenagers waiting for their shift to be over), and despite the rather humiliating start, she is fascinated by it. His world is so different from hers, it makes the whole situation feel more like one of those princess makeover shows instead of the abduction movie that it is.

As she was being measured, her mind had gone all different directions, back to the beginning, crossing over that sentence that made her question everything: “You made me take you,” he had said, making it sound as if it had been all her fault. And maybe it had been. She had approached him, made the literal first move, and he had reacted. Not the way he probably should have, but does it even matter now? Abduction sounds so much more serious than what she had experienced with him. He might have taken her, but she can't remember anything of the actual taking, so maybe she did agree to it?

And maybe she even agreed to all the vile things he did to her, and maybe they had felt a little wrong to her just because she was so inexperienced, had nothing to compare his behavior to. If anything, she now knows a lot more, about sex, about her own body, about his body, about the thin line between pain and pleasure, and most of all, she knows that despite her initial reluctance, she wants this, whatever it is, with him. As long as she's allowed to stay with him, as long as he keeps giving her that precious head-empty-feeling, she will be fine with whatever he does.

Even though her stomach is tensing up, in the worst way, at the mere thought of what that may be. Even after a weekend of being used in ways she could have never imagined, he is still the most unpredictable man she has ever met. And it scares her – more than it excites her, though she's learned to come around eventually. Emphasis on come...

Inhaling deeply, she watches him as he raises his hand to rap his knuckles against the door they've stopped in front of. But then he seems to hesitate, his eyes moving down to meet hers. She feels a blush creeping up her neck at the intensity in his gaze, but it's when he suddenly crouches down in front of her that she lets out a soft yelp. His hands slip under her dress, fingers hooking around the waistband of her panties, and while she stiffens, on the verge of protesting, he pushes her underwear down her legs so swiftly she can only stumble back slightly.

As he balls up the garment in his big hand and stands up again, she stares at him in confusion, instinctively pressing her thighs together at the sudden loss of fabric between them. He puts her panties into his pants pocket, an unreadable expression on his hard face. Instead of giving her any explanation or doing anything else to her, he turns back to the door and knocks.

Her head is spinning, and to ground herself, she focuses on her surroundings again. The hallway around them is bland, as is the door, but there is a tiny sign with a symbol on it, and when she realizes what it portrays, she feels a single bead of sweat run down between her shoulder blades. It's got the shape of a freaking butt plug.

Her hand twitches against his leg on instinct, and he meets her gaze for a moment as she stares up at him with widening eyes. He only has time to give her a crooked smirk before she can hear footsteps on the other side of the door. It opens and takes his attention away from her. Slowly she follows the motion and feels her heart sink at the sight in front of her.

“Ah, what a lovely surprise,” the woman that greets them says with a strangely exotic accent that she can't place. She is... beautiful, to say the least. Dressed in a tight black dress that leaves nothing to the imagination, accentuating an impressive bust as well as a narrow waist and wide hips, the woman balances on precariously high heels, shiny and bright red, her legs are long, her arms are toned, golden rings and bracelets hang from the hands she extends towards the man next to her, completely ignoring her.

He steps towards the woman whose long hair falls in heavy waves around her slim shoulders, framing a face that could belong to a model for sure. High cheekbones, full lips, long dark lashes, a smile that would disarm anyone – but it only creates a deep, dark void inside her stomach as she watches the tall woman throw her arms around the slightly taller man. Something cold grows within her like tiny little ice flowers when he puts his big hands lightly on her tiny waist, the same hands that have been on her body before...

She feels like a literal child next to the two adults, not just small, but hideous in her pastel pink sundress and old shabby sneakers, while the handsome man receives not one, but three kisses on his cheeks from the woman who moves so elegantly on those shoes slash murder weapons that she feels unsteady just looking at her.

Once their greeting ritual is over, she hooks her arm around his, throwing a blinding smile at him and slowly pulls him through the open door, whispering something she cannot understand that makes him smile back at her – all while she, the tiny girl, is left standing on the bland hallway with her heart racing and something ugly festering inside her stomach.

The strange feeling dissipates the moment he suddenly turns back and looks at her, extending his hand, and she almost trips over her own shoes as she steps forward and grabs it, too eager to follow, too eager to touch him as well. The smile on the woman's face freezes, turning cold and fake as her dark eyes follow his gesture, and she feels a shiver crash down her spine as they meet hers.

She quickly averts her eyes, squeezing his hand tightly as she catches up and almost presses into his side, trying to hide behind him to get away from the scrutinizing gaze of the other woman who's let go of his arm to hold the door. Together they leave the unassuming hallway and step into a space that doesn't feel much better.

It's a wider hallway, the walls are black, and as she brushes the knuckles of her free hand against them she notices that they feel soft like velvet, shimmering slightly in the dim, almost purple light shining from the fancy chandelier hanging high above them. She looks around curiously, sees various doors, framed by golden trim, adorned with golden details and handles. It looks expensive, exclusive, too fancy for her tastes, but it's not the luxury that twists her guts. There's a faint smell in the air, and she can't quite put her finger on it.

The woman walks past them, fixed on ignoring her, her heels thudding softly over the carpet. She turns to the second door on the left, that fake smile back on her beautiful face as she looks at the man she's clinging to like a lost child. He keeps holding her hand as they follow her into another room. The light is brighter here, the walls lined with floor-to-ceiling shelves that hold various sizes of black boxes she cannot look into.

The door clicks shut behind them, and the smell becomes overwhelming. Like rubber, plastic, with a strangely sweet undertone, earthy like leather. Artificial, weirdly familiar. She swallows dryly. They walk to the middle of the room, there's some sort of bar, and the woman steps behind it while he pulls her to the other side, nudging her to slip onto one of the two bar stools while he remains standing behind her, one large hand on her shoulder to hold her there.

She feels him close to her, his warmth a comfort she certainly needs when she lets her eyes wander through the room once more. And slowly, very slowly, it dawns on her. He brought her to a freaking sex shop.

Apart from the unassuming boxes on the shelves, there's a wall, plush looking and red, that holds an array of objects that make her frown and shiver: things that looks like riding crops and canes, whips and paddles, some solid, some with holes, most made of leather, some with wood, expensive looking, intricate, and she forces herself not to think back to the few times she's followed her curiosity into the darker corners of the Internet.

Despite her great aversion to sex toys, she knows of them (before she was forced to experience them), seen them in use in various porn clips and gifs, she may be inexperienced, but she hasn't been living under a rock. Though her desire to pleasure herself has been majorly dulled after seeing one too many of these darker themed videos centered around helpless girls in precarious situations, unable to move, bound and gagged and then... tortured, there's no other word that comes to her innocent mind. It had been deeply disturbing.

It's only now, after spending more than 48 hours with a man who would seem to enjoy exactly those kinds of clips, that she learned that there is pleasure in pain, but she still doesn't want to get near any of the objects hanging from the wall. She can still feel the phantom pain of his hand on her butt cheeks when he'd spanked her, she can't imagine what it must feel like to be hit with a wide leather paddle or a thin wooden cane.

Shuddering deeply, she looks away quickly, but her gaze only falls onto another display, another plush wall, this time there are hand cuffs hanging from hooks, things that look like collars and leashes, leather and metal gleaming in the soft lighting. There are even masks and muzzles and blindfolds and... gags. More items she doesn't want to learn more about.

When she brings her attention back to the woman behind the bar, she notices that she's watching her with a dark smile, full lips curled, a glint in her eyes. She clears her throat and turns slightly to look up at the man behind her, and he has the same glint in his eyes. Her frown deepens as she looks from one adult to the other. (She's technically one as well, but still feels like a damn child between them.)

“I have to admit,” the woman says in her sweet, exotic voice, “I am a little surprised. You visit me so rarely, and usually not with... this kind of company,” she adds with a smile, her eyes moving away from her to him, and she feels him shifting against her, his hand curling around her shoulder, and despite the somewhat possessive touch, she feels that coldness poking at her insides again when she imagines these two alone in the same room, surrounded by sex toys. “Did you come to pick up your order?”

“No,” he replies, his deep voice vibrating against her, cutting through her dark thoughts. “I doubt you have it ready so soon.” The woman's smile turns a little sour at his mocking tone, but she keeps her facade, tilting her head slightly, shifting from one leg to the other as she leans against the bar. “I need something more immediate, to go, if you will.”

A surprised laugh escapes the older woman before her eyes land on hers, and while she looks back at her in confusion, she smirks darkly. “To go, huh? That's why you brought your little pet?”

It's like another sting inside her, being called a pet after being called an object, but she tries her best not to let them see how flustered she really is, not only by the names, but by the implications. She's in a sex shop, and whatever he wants to buy for her, she already knows she'll hate it. It's only been this morning that she woke up with a damn dildo stuffed inside her, held in place by a freaking harness. Does he really want to fill her up again? Can't he give her a break?

No. Of course he can't. She is his to use, to have, to control, he'd told her that, and she can't say no, because she somehow agreed to this. Submitted to him. And if they'd be in his penthouse and he'd ask her again to choose one of those many colorful toys he stores in his bedside table, she'd be somewhat okay with it, but it's the place, it's the woman, it's everything that happened prior, that makes her wary, that twists her stomach, that feels worse than anything he'd made her do before.

She feels the blush creeping up her neck even before the woman bends down to pick up something stored beneath the bar, and when she puts a large glass case in front of her, her heart sinks and her cheeks burn up fully. It's two rows of items lying on soft looking red velvet, and by now she can tell by the shape of them, where those are supposed to go. She feels the respective holes clenching in terrified anticipation. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, she fights the shudders crashing through her body, her fingers clawing at the hem of her short dress.

He steps beside her, his hand still on her shoulder, his grip tight, demanding, as he leans closer to take a look at the display on the bar.

“The usual?” the woman asks, and she notices how he stiffens beside her, and it's that motion that distracts her from her spiraling thoughts. The two words hang in the air, making her wonder. She actually never questioned his large collection of sex toys, but it makes sense. He's a popular man, she's seen him disappear with various girls before he had finally picked her. It shouldn't surprise her that there have been others in the bed he'd taken her virginity in, others he's used those toys on. (She just hopes he's cleaned them afterwards...)

How he now looks at the woman though, it feels strange. As if she said too much, said something she shouldn't have said. It only deepens her frown. Before she can make sense of it, a deep vibration hums in the air, and she looks down at the glass case with a raised eyebrow, goosebumps crawling over her exposed arms, but it's not one of the toys, it's his phone.

He lets go of her shoulder and pulls it from his pocket, then sighs as he glances at the display. “I gotta take this,” he says, letting the device buzz in his hand while he moves his free one over the spotless glass. “That one,” he says quickly, his voice harsh and business-like, pointing to one of the larger, longer items in the case, and while she stares at him, his words and choice settling heavy in her stomach, the woman nods with a professional smile. “Prepare her for me?” he adds with a last look, and she can hear the sharp inhale and slight hesitation of the shop owner (and frankly, she feels the same. What now? What kind of service is that?).

“Of course,” the woman says despite her initial reaction, her voice calm and friendly, while her face is a mask of dark disdain as she watches him turn around and leave the room with quick steps, the phone already pressed to his ear – and the girl squirms on the stool, eager to follow him, absolutely not wanting to stay here, alone, with that woman, surrounded by freaking sex toys and horrifying bondage equipment – and the prospect of being prepared to take something up her ass again.

Her heart clenches as she fists the hem of her dress, trying to ground herself, her breath quickening when the woman taps her manicured nails on the glass case in front of her. She looks up timidly, meeting a rather sinister smile that makes her skin crawl with goosebumps.

“Well then,” the woman says and stores the display case back beneath the bar. “Let's get... ready then, hm?” She walks towards one of the shelves and picks up a medium sized black box, then nods towards a corner of the room that's partitioned off by a heavy looking curtain. “Get in there,” she adds, her tone much rougher than before.

“Yes, ma'am,” she mumbles, unable to stop the words. It's a reflex, an instinct, an inborn thing to obey when met with people like this. Demanding, dominant. She's just surprised this works with women as well.

Shuffling on her sneakers, her thighs still pressed together, she makes it past the curtain, and freezes. It's a room filled with strange benches, plush ones, leather ones, some lower to the ground, some higher up, definitely shaped to accommodate a body draped over them. There are wooden structures behind them on the wall, boards in an x-shape, and when she notices the hand cuffs dangling from them, she feels a cold shiver rushing down her spine.

“Bend over that one,” the woman tells her, her formerly flowery voice cold and demeaning now, and she follows the delicate hand pointing to one of the benches, a leather one shaped like a triangle of some sort.

Unable to stop herself, she walks to it, inhaling deeply, her whole body shaking, but somehow she does as she is told and presses her stomach against the soft leather, then bends forward, her hands gripping a metal bar on the bottom to steady herself. It's a strange position, leaving her rear completely exposed, and it's only after she's bent over, that she realizes that he took her panties from her.

A soft laugh comes from behind her, pushing even more blood into her already red face. “You came prepared, huh?” the woman mocks, and she flinches badly when she feels two hands on her hips, slowly moving up the thin fabric of her dress. “Of course you'd be. He always thinks ahead...”

Her comment distracts her from the humiliation of the situation. Always? He's brought girls here before? Then again, why is she surprised? She's established he's a popular man with unique tastes, why should she be the first to go through this treatment? Swallowing hard, she grips the metal bar tighter, resting her cheek on the cold leather beneath her, trying to breathe her fears and doubts away.

A sudden slap makes her yelp, her body convulsing against the bench. “So responsive, good,” the woman whispers, more to herself, while she flips her skirt up fully, scratching her seemingly gloved hand over her throbbing ass cheek, the sound of the rubber making her skin crawl. “So, are you familiar with having things up your pretty little bum?”

When she doesn't reply immediately, the hand is back on her rear, the smack even louder, crashing through her nerves instantly. She gasps, almost chokes on her spit, before croaking out: “Y-yes, ma'am.”

“Yeah? Like what? Dainty little metal plugs? Vibrators? Cocks?”

“M-metal ones,” she whispers breathlessly, shame burning through her body when she adds: “And... c-cock...”

It's one thing to experience those things, but talking about them with a complete stranger? And she thought being measured by a rude woman was bad. Her day seems to spiral more and more, so even the idea of being roughly fucked on a desk, unprepared and raw, sounds better than having to endure this. Actually, anything that includes him would be better right about now.

She feels tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she wonders where he's gone, when he comes back, if he comes back, why he's left her alone with this woman in the first place, why he lets her get so close to her body that's presumably all his...

A sudden stab of something cold rips her right out of her thoughts, her choked yelp coming almost a second too late, when she feels a thin finger pushing into her puckered hole without hesitation. She clenches around it as the woman moves something wet and cold around her insides. A whimper escapes her at the feeling, it's soothing as much as it is uncomfortable. The finger retreats, she hears the squirt of some liquid, and another cold dollop of what she assumes to be lube finds its way into her ass.

Weirdly enough this feels better than when he had his fingers inside her, dry and rough, forced and unexpected, and for a moment her body is confused by the attention, her core clenching, warmth settling low in her stomach, her thighs twitching slightly against the bench. But then the woman adds another finger, pushes deeper, and she feels her long sharp nails on her tense muscles, even through the glove.

Stiffening under the sensation, she grits her teeth, forces down her noises, doesn't want to draw too much attention to herself, wants it to be over soon. Her mind is spinning. Why is she even allowing this? She's come to terms when it came to him, wanting to please him because he gave her a new life, but this woman? Will she never be able to say no ever again? Will she let anyone do to her whatever they want? Is this what she's become?

A groan is forced out of her throat as she feels more pressure on the tight ring of muscles when the woman adds another finger, or maybe she's even using her whole hand now, she can't be sure, it feels like too much, stretching her, pushing deep, the lube squelching out of her with an obscene noise that makes her shiver deeply.

But then the strange sensation is gone, and she's left empty, her muscles clenching in confusion, her breath quicker, her heart thundering inside her chest, a single tear running down the side of her face. She hears the crinkling of paper behind her, the squirt of the lube bottle again, gloved hands rubbing over a wet surface. It's still a surprise when she feels something solid pressing against her sphincter, no matter how well she's been prepared.

As it is pushed deeper into her ass, she sees the shape of it in the glass case, sees his finger pointing at it, and she shudders deeply. It's longer than any plug she's had, not as long as his cock, but close, and luckily not as girthy, but it's made of differently sized balls pushed into a hard line, and she can feel every single bump as it slips into her, how her muscles tense around it, then give way, allowing the next to move in.

The woman is surprisingly gentle, but she still lets out quiet whines as the toy fills her up. Then it stops, resting hard and heavy inside her, and she yelps when her ass cheek is slapped once more, causing her muscles to clench around the insertion, holding it in place. She sniffles, biting her lip, trying to adjust. It feels strange, unfamiliar, but ultimately not as bad. Not that she can do anything against it anyway...

“What an obedient little pet you are,” she hears the woman's voice behind her, almost soft, as she moves her wet hands over her skin, her thumb poking at the base of the plug. “I'm almost jealous he found you first...”

Another slap clears the confusion in her head as she rocks against the bench, gasping. She feels her dress being pulled down again, then hears the sound of gloves being removed with a snap of rubber. She's still breathing a little harder when she's nudged off the bench and forced into a standing position again. Her legs are shaking, that object inside her moving with every twist and turn of her body, making her flinch.

“Thank you, ma'am,” she hears herself saying, her eyes glued to the floor, head bowed in a mixture of submission and shame, but there's something else swimming in the back of her mind as well. Gratitude, excitement at being praised, even if it wasn't by him.

The woman laughs softly. “Call me Mistress, pet,” she says, her long nail scratching along her throat as she grabs her chin and makes her look up. “You've earned it.”

She stares at her, chest rising and falling faster, her core clenching involuntarily. “Yes, Mistress,” she echoes quietly, making her opposite smile warmly.

Footsteps sound behind her, and she dares to break eye contact when she sees him pushing the curtain aside and entering the room. She blushes deeply, averting her eyes, standing stock-still while the woman lowers her hand and turns around.

“All done,” she says with a tilt to her head. He nods approvingly, stepping closer, his large hand suddenly finding her arm before he twists her around and presses her back to the bench.

She gasps, stiffening when he rips her dress up to expose her rear, then presses his finger to the base of the plug, forcing a choked groan out of her throat. “Any trouble?” he asks, rubbing over her probably reddened cheek.

“No, she's been very obedient,” the woman replies, and he huffs a grunt in response.

“Good,” he says and pushes her dress back down, before gripping her arm again and pulling her against him. She stumbles slightly, looking up at him. He meets her gaze, and a smile creeps onto his stoic face. “How do you feel?”

He's asked her the same thing when he has stuffed the dildo into her cunt, and back then she has felt full, it has been uncomfortable, strange, and having the larger plug in her butt still feels weird, with her muscles trying to adjust to the unfamiliar intruder by clenching around every bump of it, but overall she feels... okay.

“I feel fine,” she replies quietly, trying herself at a shy smile as he studies her face.

“Fine, hm?” he repeats with a dry laugh.

He looks away then (and she follows his gaze), nodding towards the woman who extends her hand to him, holding a piece of paper with a QR code on it. One hand on her shoulder, he slips the other into his pocket and retrieves his phone, quickly scanning the symbol, before the smile widens on his handsome face, almost turning diabolical.

She wonders what made him so happy, what's this all about, but then something strange makes her flinch, something from within. A yelp escapes her, and she grips onto his arm in surprise, feeling her muscles vibrating. No, not her muscles, the plug inside her. It's humming, buzzing against her flesh, a deep thrum that makes her entire body shudder. Her core clenches in response, her thighs trembling, and she leans against him helplessly.

He watches her with interest while his thumb moves along the screen, and the motion bleeds into the movement of the vibrating plug. It gets stronger, harder, throbbing inside her, coaxing little moans out of her that turn into gasps that turn into whimpers. She's clinging to him, and luckily he lets her, as her body quickly gets overwhelmed by the assault of sensations pulsing through her, all centered deep within her ass, but soon her cunt starts contracting too, clenching around nothing, and she cries out, squeezing her eyes shut.

“So responsive,” she hears the woman's voice, it's quiet and barely registers in her clouded mind, but she senses the hidden praise and it only makes everything worse.

The vibrations crescendo once more, loudly buzzing now, her whole body shaking, her nails digging into his arm, her lips parted, her shoulders hunching, her back arched, her legs feel like jello, everything moves, hums, shudders, muscles clench, convulse, contract, and she can only manage to issue a single croaked groan before she collapses against him, something warm and sticky dripping down her inner thigh.

He holds her, one strong arm around her, and slowly the thrumming gets weaker until it stops altogether, leaving her still shaking badly, the phantom sensation of having her insides vibrating clinging to her like she clings to him.

“Still fine?” he whispers, pressing her into him, his lips brushing against her damp forehead.

She's breathing harder, her heart still beating out of her chest, but she nods, a dumb little smile creeping onto her lips. “Yes, sir,” she mumbles, the words swimming out of her unchecked. Head empty, how lovely. He chuckles softly into her hair, before he slowly extracts her from himself, grabbing her shoulder to look at her. She can barely stand, but tries her best to remain upright, as she looks up at him out of hooded eyes.

He tilts his head, a curious glint in his gaze as he watches her closely. “Give me the same thing for her cunt,” he then says, the words barely make sense to her, but the woman moves behind him, replying with an amused: “Good idea.”

Her leaving footsteps are drowned by the soft yelp she issues when he suddenly picks her up and carries her towards another bench. This one is reclined, like a lounge chair, and she sinks into the soft leather, relaxing, eyelids fluttering, but as soon as he raises her legs and puts them into strange contraptions that hold them up and spread far apart, she slowly comes down from the high he's forced upon her.

He's standing between her open thighs, hands on her shins, holding her in place, his eyes wandering over her exposed lower body. She blinks in confusion, still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm. The plug rests still and heavy inside her, the relaxed position pushing it a little deeper. She inhales sharply, wondering what's going on.

The woman returns, holding another black silicone toy in her newly gloved hands. There are leather straps hanging from her right forearm. A harness, she recognizes, and somehow that brings her down to earth with a force she hasn't expected. He wants to fill her even more, plug her up fully, and these things aren't normal dildos, they are vibrators, and he can control them with his phone. Oh for crying out loud!

She squirms in her seat, her legs kicking fruitlessly against his hold. He shakes his head and lets out a few “Tsk”s as he looks at her. It takes her a moment to obey the unspoken command, and it takes even more self-control to force herself to sit still. She bites her lip hard, breathing loudly through her nose as she looks from him to the woman and back, her heart beating harder again.

Once she's somewhat calm, he takes his hands from her shins, watching her closely, assessing if she'll stay calm, but then he sighs and fumbles with the thick leather bands attached to the contraptions that hold her legs up until they are bound in place, and she tests them immediately, tensing against them, but they won't budge. Her mind starts spinning as a strange kind of panic settles deep within her stomach.

He leans in then, a hand on her face. “Shh, it'll be alright, relax,” he soothes her, brushing his thumb over her bottom lip. “Be a good girl, okay?”

She lets out a whine and nods obediently. He's playing dirty. He always did, but this feels like betrayal (and it's not even that he doesn't trust her to stay still, that he saw the need to restrain her), it's because he isn't alone. The woman watches her curiously, a dark smile on her full lips as she twists the toy between her long fingers. “Do you want me to prepare her?” she asks sweetly, her eyes boring into hers, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

“No, I'll do it,” he replies quietly, his hands already sliding down her inner thighs. And she's glad he does. The woman she's supposed to call Mistress still feels a little suspicious to her. She wants to feel good, sure, if she has the option, but not by her hands. He is the center of her new world, she doesn't need the confusion that comes with someone else pleasuring her.

Though this doesn't seem to be about her pleasure. With how they both look at her, she feels like a rabbit forced into a corner with not one, but two predators staring down at her, like grinning hyenas, eager to play with her.

And somehow it's all wrong when she feels his fingers sliding along her outer lips. What should have been an intimate gesture, a shared moment, a mutual exploration, is now a witnessed thing, with her being on full display, strapped into that strange chair-like bench, it would be almost clinical if it weren't for the soft lighting and dark interior of the room.

She's acutely aware of the woman watching his every move, how his fingers rub over her mound, creating these highly embarrassing squelching sounds when they dip between her folds, and she can't help it, she squirms, strangled whines escaping her as she turns her head away and squeezes her eyes shut.

Footsteps round the bench and then she feels two hands, gloved and a little cold, on her jaw, holding her head, turning it back, before a soft breath brushes against her forehead. “Open your eyes, pet,” the woman whispers, and she shivers, eyes flying open on instinct, a croaked gasp slipping from her parted lips. Her wide gaze finds his, and he watches her, stern, stoic, head tilted slightly, as he continues to rub his hand over her sex.

She's stiff on the bench, breathing harder, heart thundering, held by the woman's hands and the leather bindings around her legs, but it's his dark stare that freezes her to the spot, makes her shiver involuntarily. Pressing her lips into a thin line, she forces herself to relax, to focus on him. He holds her attention as he finally dips a finger into her already clenching hole, and she lets out a muffled moan at the sensation.

For a moment he just looks at her, moving his digit in and out slowly, testing the waters, teasing her resistance, almost a little too keen to coax those lewd sounds out of her wet cunt. Her nostrils flare as she fights the shame trying to burn up inside her. To soothe her, the woman presses her fingertips against her throat, applying soft pressure, but her sharp nails still scratch along her skin occasionally. She furrows her eyebrows, almost loses the battle against all these kinds of stimulation.

Eventually she does, when he adds another finger and really pumps into her now, and she feels her hips bucking, her shoulders tensing, body shuddering intensely. Her suspended feet twitch in their restraints, her toes curl, and she parts her lips to let out a wanton cry, her eyelids fluttering. He prolongs the moment of bliss by curling his fingers and bullying that special spot inside her with hard thrusts of his hand until she thrashes her head into the woman's hands and moans loudly, eyes rolling back, vision turning white.

And it's all gone for a moment, her orgasm crashing through her like a cleansing wave, letting her forget all about the strange room with its strange contraptions, the shop full of toys and whips and gags, and it's just his strong fingers guiding her through the exploding lights behind her eyelids, her body seemingly floating... if it wasn't for the pair of hands holding her neck.

The number of hands confuses her, and she slowly drifts down again, limbs relaxing, all of her sinking back down on the soft bench, while her heart is exploding inside her chest, her breath coming and going in hard puffs to fill her lungs with air again.

“Good pet,” a soft female voice whispers into her ear. “What a display...”

“Th-thank you,” she croaks out, still dizzy from her release, not sure who she's thanking and why, but the inborn instinct loosens her tongue enough to allow the words to spill out. Pointy nails dig into her throat, and she gasps, eyes fluttering open, the added word “Mistress” flying from her quivering lips.

But when the woman behind her eases her grip, her eyes fall onto him, and his gaze is darker than usual, eyebrows knitted, jaw clenched, and she lets out a strange whine, bucking up from the bench, wanting to get closer. Her hands, that have been gripping the sides of the bench in sheer panicked necessity, fly up and reach for him. She manages to slip from the woman's hands, but with her legs raised up and held in place as they are, she sits in a strange position, barely able to hold herself up, but her fingers still brush against the front of his shirt, fruitlessly trying to grab onto him.

“I'm sorry,” she whispers, feeling the need to apologize, tears burning under her lashes. He watches her, standing so tall and intimating between her legs, one of his hands raised, shimmering in the light, her juices dripping past his knuckles.

She feels the woman retreating, and suddenly his wet hand is around her throat as he folds himself over her, and she gasps breathlessly, hands now gripping at his wrist, eyes wide, lips parted in a silent cry.

“Right you are,” he hisses, his voice low and dark and dangerous. “You are mine, and only mine,” he looks up when he says those last words, and she hears a shuffle behind her. When he looks back at her, she stiffens even more, holding her breath (not that she could breathe anyway with how he squeezes her throat). “So what do you say to me?”

Her mind is blank with fear (and strangely enough a bit of arousal, may it be the remnants of her orgasm or a new wave of excitement), so it takes her a moment to understand his question, causing him to apply more pressure on her neck, but once she moves her jaw, he eases it and lets her speak, or lets her try to speak.

“Th... tha... thank y-you,” she stammers, her voice hoarse and feeble, her breaths panicked and fast, so she tries again. “Th-thank y-you, s-sir.”

Her attempts calm the anger that has overtaken his handsome face and it relaxes. He exhales loudly, and nods, slowly leaning back, his hand moving to slip around her head, gently squeezing her nape as he watches her, before he leans in again and presses his forehead to hers, staring deeply into her eyes.

“You are mine,” he says again, his voice vibrating through her. “Mine to use, mine to have. Is that right, darling?”

“Yes, sir,” she replies, much quicker, holding his gaze, feeling herself sinking into his eyes, his dominance, his guidance. “I am yours.”

A smile grazes his tight lips, and she could have sworn he is fighting the urge to kiss her, show her the affection he usually would if they were alone, but they are not, so he just leans away, lets go of her and straightens up. She relaxes into the bench, hands falling limply onto her stomach, fingers curling into the hem of her dress, her eyes following his every move.

He inhales deeply, his large form growing for a moment, before he breaks eye contact and turns to the woman who has retreated into the shadows (and she wishes she would stay there). She hands him the black silicone toy, already lubed, shiny in the dim lighting, its shape a little different from the plug still sitting heavy in her ass. It's a little thicker, about as long, but more rounded, imitating the shape of a cock but only just, also bends a little as he rolls it between his long fingers.

She stares at him, waiting for whatever happens next. Her mind is still buzzing from what already happened, from entering this store to being bent over and plugged and pleasured, to being strapped down and pleasured all over again, and it's not over yet. Despite the dizziness swirling within her, her body is already reacting to the sight in front of her, as he approaches her, steps between her legs again, the shining item in his large hand. Her chest rises and falls faster, heart still beating as if it wants to jump through her ribcage, palms sweaty and lips dry in anticipation.

He holds her gaze, a little glint in his eyes while hers are wide and fearful. She doesn't even know anymore why she prefers fingers over sex toys, maybe it's more natural, more personal to feel somebody's heat instead of a cold, lifeless item. A toy pushed into another toy. Does it even matter? She shouldn't fight this, she knows that, he won't like it if she did, but she can't stop the involuntarily twitch of her body, the bucking of her hips, the strain in her spine as she tries to move away from where he's pointing the dildo.

His hand is on her stomach, large and heavy, pushing her down but also grounding her, giving her that warmth she's missing, and somehow she calms a little under the touch, every deep inhale pushing back against his palm. In her raised position with her legs spread so wide open, she can see when he rubs the silicone toy between her wet folds, gathers her slick, adds it to the lube shining on the smooth material.

He prods the tip against her entrance, and she stares, holding her breath, tensing up despite herself. His hand presses harder into her stomach, coaxing a gasp out of her, the motion making her look up at him, and he looks at her, hard, but his eyes seem warmer, reassuring, calm, sure of what he's doing, telling her it's okay. And it is okay. She inhales deeply, clenching her fingers around the fabric of her dress as she tries to relax the rest of her body.

She reminds herself she's had a toy inside her before, for several hours to be exact, and it was okay, more or less. She's felt full and a little stiff, but it was okay. She has been able to sleep with it lodged inside her no problem (kindly ignoring the outcome of that endeavor). But then she realizes she is not in his penthouse, not in a bed, but in a store, in the middle of the city, and she is supposed to walk around with not one, but two toys wedged inside her holes. How the hell is that supposed to work?

“Ah!” A pained yelp breaks from her throat as her thoughts are rudely interrupted by him pushing the dildo past the initial resistance and then continuously further, without hesitation, deeper, forcing it past her tense muscles, and she whines at the sensation, at feeling so incredibly full, and even worse when she feels the toy nudging against the other one in her ass through the thin layer between.

She writhes on the bench, almost howling now by how strange it feels to be stretched this much, to be filled this much, and suddenly the woman's hands are back on her shoulders, pushing her down, holding her in place. She feels tears streaming down her face as she watches him out of hooded eyes, vision blurry, her body still fighting the intrusion, clenching, tensing up even more, her legs kicking fruitlessly in their leather bindings, but he doesn't seem to care, just pushes the toy as deep as it will go, and she sees it disappearing inside her, feels it prodding her innermost spots, or so it feels, stretching her limits.

The hand on her stomach presses down again as if wanting to feel said toy through her skin, and she is certain it has to bulge out of her with how deep it is inside her, but when he removes his hand, there's nothing, just her fluttering belly, flat and covered in a thin layer of sweat. The woman hands him the leather straps she's carried earlier, and he starts arranging them around her thighs and her waist and hips, nudging her shuddering body to accommodate his handiwork.

Her whines are breathless little gasps now, her arms shaking from how hard she clutches at her dress to ground herself. She barely dares to breathe with how full she feels, how snug the harness sits around her lower body, holding everything in place. The last buckle is closed and secured, and she stares down at the contraption, those thick black leather straps, shiny and expensive looking, straight out of one of those BDSM clips she's stumbled across before. And in stark contrast to that, there's her pastel pink sundress, wrinkled from how she's holding onto the skirt part, with its cinched waist and modest neckline and those cute little white flowers.

And the girl on the bench is confused, to put it mildly. How is this happening? How did she end up strapped to a bench in a sex shop and plugged up by a toy in each of her holes, holes that have been virginal only a few days ago, holes she wouldn't even touch herself. Surrounded by two dominant adults, who are now stepping back to marvel at the sight in front of them. Surely they must see the contradiction too, how innocent she is on the surface while her insides are stretched and bullied by those silicone things that have no right to feel this invasive and yet so...

It's growing on her, to say the least. The longer they sit within her, slowly becoming a part of her, or so she hopes, the less stressed she is about it (well, we'll talk about how she is supposed to actually walk with them later). At least she thinks so now, lying on the bench, unmoving except for the nervous flutter of her stomach, with everything resting.

And while she calms down, savoring the quiet moment, the woman and the man walk behind her, out of her line of sight, and for a few more minutes, nothing happens – until it all explodes.

She almost jerks off the bench when the first vibration crashes through her. It's a single stab of movement deep within her, the attached toy throbbing hard against her tense muscles, and in turn pushing even harder against the other toy, and she bucks her hips, cries out, kicks her legs in their restraints, her hands flying to the harness between her thighs, clawing at the straps as she whines in protest.

“Relax,” sounds his voice, loud, demanding, echoing in her ears, and instantly grounding her as she stiffens, body shuddering as it is forced to remain still. She's breathing harder, frozen in her cramped position, before a hand pushes her back onto the bench.

He reappears between her legs, one hand on her knee, rubbing soothing circles into her skin as he looks down at her, the other hand holding his phone, his thumb pressed to the screen. She watches him breathlessly, new tears burning in her eyes. The hum grows inside her as he moves his digit over the device, and she clenches around the vibrating toy, grits her teeth, forces herself to endure.

His hand moves down her leg, short fingernails scratch along her inner thigh, teasing her sensitive skin, scraping over the leather straps. She is fixated on his fingers, focusing, distracting herself, and she realizes the harness sits low on her hips, a thick leather band running from her pubic bone all around her mound until it comes back up between her ass cheeks, tight and snug, thinning. And it sits right over her clit, and all he has to do, is push it down against it, and she wails, kicks her feet helplessly, convulses uncontrollably.

He holds the pressure, moves his thumb over the screen again before the buzzing grows stronger inside her. She thrashes her head back, hips arching upwards, insides singing with these unfamiliar sensations, and he pushes further, increases the vibrations once more, drives her closer and closer to the edge (of pleasure or insanity, she isn't sure at this point).

Her noises are loud and shrill in the room, the sound dampened by the velvet walls and other equipment, her throat quickly straining under the constant stream of whines and wails and cries, as she spasms on the bench, not even registering how the woman holds her shoulders, fingernails seemingly digging into her skin through the fabric of her dress.

She is overwhelmed, more than that, is barely able to breathe, to function, to think. Everything is buzzing, humming, twitching, fireworks explode behind her eyelids, pain crashes through her, turning into waves of pleasure that pull her away, threatening to drown her. Amidst the inescapable bliss, she hears a different kind of humming, voices, soft, amused, maybe even mocking, not that she cares.

“Such a sensitive little pet.” bleeds into a deeper thrum of “Good girl.”, and the praise spirals her even higher until she fades away into unconsciousness, letting go completely.

ELEVEN 🟥 TWELVE 🟥 THIRTEEN

End notes: So I wanted to introduce a female character that could fuel our poor girl's jealousy, but then Mistress stepped into my head and dominated everything. That's just how it goes sometimes. She makes another appearance, but I'm not sure if I want to keep her, maybe in the next season? We'll see.

Also sorry for the confusion I'm sure I created by writing a scene with two unnamed females, I hope it came through who did what and wasn't too redundant either.

Thank you for reading!

Next chapter on Sunday!

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AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE◾ SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾TEN

ELEVEN

[fuck-customers]

The guy who trained me had to quit due to some family stuff. When that all was settled, he was allowed to come back but due to having been out so long, he had to go through his own training and orientation again. The company was actually otherwise cool and let him come back at his former wage citing years of experience. So I'm training him, and he's instantly making more than me, but like... I'm fine with it because I understand the context. In his absence, we had hired someone else to help fill the void. She doesn't understand the context and is really upset that he's making more than either of us. She claims that she has just as much experience and technically she does, but it's in a *related* field and from our top competitor. Meanwhile his experience is *here* doing *this exactly*. On one hand I can understand her frustration because I see that from the outside looking in, it's a funky situation. But on the other hand, I just want to shake her because it's almost like she's REFUSING to understand at this point.

Posted by admin Rodney

[vulpixisananimal]

"And you're absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure about this?" (Isabeau asked, he looked at you, concerned. He had worried about you all morning, helping you get ready for the day, checking for bruises, for anything wrong at all. But no, the only issue you had was the same issue you had yesterday.)

"I'm sure, absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent sure." (You nod. It was, it was the only place you could think to go.)

(The Favor Tree.)

(You were going to be useless in the house. Drag them all down, get them killed, fail over and over again if you just ran into that brick wall called the House of Change. No, no what you needed, was, some time alone.)

(It took some convincing, but eventually, everyone agreed. Isabeau would help you to the Favor Tree, sit you down, and you'd wait for them to return. You tried to subtelty give them tips, hints on how to get through the house without you, but it was hard without giving anything away.)

(They would be the heros this loop, you'd just be another frozen soul in Dormont, unless you looped back beforehand, naturally.)

"I-I could still carry you! I wouldn't mind! I can beat sadness AND help you through the house!" (Isa was practicly begging, but you couldn't go, not this time at least.)

(You chuckled, and smiled.) "Hey don't worry, I'll be waiting for you right where you leave me, okay?"

"Ha, haha. ." (The laugh was forced. Jokes wouldn't help warm the air here.)

(Eventually, the two of you ended up at the Favore Tree. It loomed above you; imposing, menacing, taunting. You kept your forced smile, Isabeaus arm holding you up. You still. Couldn't. Fell. It.)

". . . The Favor Tree's pretty cool, isn't it?" (Isabeau says.)

"Yeah it is. . ." (Ah you knew this line.)

"Glad you agree!"

(Make the pun. Make the pun it's the one thing you gotta do each time to stay sane just, make the pun.) "One could say it's a pretty. . ."

". . Uh huh?"

"Tree-mendous tree!" (You say, just like before.)

". . Heh, hehaha! Ha!" (Isabeau laughs, you laugh. This time at least it wasn't as forced but. . . You could still tell he wasn't happy with it. With your whole situation.)

(He doesn't reach for you. Good thing too, you couldn't step back either.)

"Any place you want to be set down, or. . ." (Isa asks)

"Oh uh, just that root over there." (You gesture with a nod. Isa helps you over and sits you down, leaning your back against the tree. He steps back. He was looking at you, his face was full of, pitty? Great, it was pitty.)

"And, you're absolutely, sure?"

"I'm sure, Isa, okay? I promise." (You keep smiling.) "See you after the day's saved, okay?"

". . . Okay, I-I'll, I'll see you. Later. I'll see you later. After we're back."

"You'll do great! Isa! Big buff guy Isabeau! You'll do great!"

"Yeah!!! It'll go great!!" (Isabeau finally smiled back. As forced as it was.)

(He waved, you smiled back, he walked away. You wait untill he's gone. A beat, two, three, four. . .)

(. . .)

(. . . . . . . .)

". . . . Wow Stardust! You've really caused quite the stir!" (And in an instant that familiar voice filled your ears. You turn your head and sure enough, Loop was there. Oh Loop. Reliable, wonderful, annoying as hell. They didnt have a mouth but those eyes were all they needed to grinn.) "You have Isabeau carting you around like royalty! My, lucky you!"

"Loop. . ." (Your breathing gets heavy.)

"Was it all to get more time with me, Stardust? You know you could have just snuck out~"

"Loop I, I can't-" (Your stomach hurts.)

"What, can't move?!?" (Loop huffed, looking away.) "Come on, Stardust! You went back in time! So what if the King snapped your spine, it's fine now!"

"But, it's not-" (Why didn't they believe you?)

"It's fine!! It has to be fine!!" (Their tone changes, angry, or-) "You changed time!! Whatever you did it doesn't matter now!! It gets, turned, back!!"

"THEN WHY CAN'T I DO ANYTHING?!?" (You yell, you yell and yell. You yell and cry.) "WHY CAN'T I FEEL ANYTHING?!? WHY CAN'T I MOVE?!?! WHY AM I JUST, SO, USELESS?!?!?!"

(Loop doesn't reply. You keep crying, you can't, you can't stop yourself.)

"I can't do anything!! I'm useless!!! A sack of rocks to be hauled around!! I can't do anything by myself, always needing help!!! Do you think I want that?!?"

"I can't move!! I CAN'T MOVE!!!! I can't check for traps!! I can't look for keys!! I can't fight I can't walk I can't eat I can't flip pages of a book I can't do ANYTHING!!!"

"We'll never make it out!!! We're STUCK here!!! AND IT'S ALL MY FAULT!!!"

(You were sobbing, you couldn't stop. You were stuck here. You couldn't move, you couldn't fight, walk, win, live, do anything. You'd never escape, you'd never get out.)

(You're doomed.)

(It's quiet. You don't know for how long it's quiet for. You sob, unable to stop, eye squeezed closed. Loop doesn't say anything. You hear the wind rustle the leaves of the Favor Tree. You feel the sun on your face.)

(You calm down, taking a few deep breaths, one, two, three, four, five, sex, seven. You're okay, you're fine, you're okay now, you're.)

(You're. Over. It.)

". . . . . . Siffrin, I. . ." (Loops voice. You don't open your eye.) ". . . . I'm sorry."

". . . It's fine."

"No! It's not fine!" (They huff.) "If- since it looks like you really are stuck like this, we need, a new plan."

". . ." (You sigh.)

"You won't be getting anywhere by moping Stardust~" (Loop giggles.) "Who knows! This could be some twisted blessing in disguise!"

"Yeah right. . ." (You roll your eye.)

". . . Well? Are you just going to sit there being sorry for yourself?"

"Sorry, let met just stand up and be sorry somewhere else." (You stick your tongue out.)

"Hah! Hahahaha!!" (Loop laughs, and claps their hands together.) "Well now that you're feeling better, how can I help you out on this wonderful new loop, Stardust?"

[janesurlife]

I want to talk about this "mentality" thing once and for all cause charles Fans (and Oscar fans too) bring this up again and again. First of all not all drivers have the exact same personality so it's understandable that they react differently in similar situations. Max used to be criticised cause he wasn't as flashy as Hamilton. Now Lando is being criticised for either celebrating too much or too little. George is sometimes made fun of because of the way he reacts to his achievements while Oscar is often praised for not being "too reactive". YOU NEED TO UNDERSTAND THAT THEY'RE VERY DIFFERENT PEOPLE.

Now to address this tweet, a lecfosi is criticising Carlos for thanking his team after an ok race while praising Charles for not saying anything (which I don't even think is true, he did say something but this ferrari news account is famous for misinformation)

First of all, ferrari shat in qualifying...not mincing my words here. Both drivers suffered, both made mistakes and they landed on 9th and 10th. So after that their priority would be to finish in points and that's exactly what they did. Carlos had to struggle a bit more because of the bad start but he made a good recovery. He understands that this race could have gone so much worse for them so after finishing the race unharmed and with points, thanking his team and the mechanics for repairing the car in time is the least he could do as a driver. I don't wanna go into too much detail about Charles but in my very personal opinion not thanking your team (IF he really didn't) after a job well done doesn't make you look like a champion, it makes you look like a passive aggressive whiney bitch but that's just me. So please stop with this "championship mentality" bullshit cause it means nothing.

[platypus-beans]

Every day I find myself getting more and more pissed.

Whether you like it or not, either Kamala Harris or Donald Trump is going to win the election. The voting population not for either do not have enough to elect a third party, especially since none of yall can agree on which candidate you want.

None of the candidates are actually going to stop Isreal, some might say they will, but the president doesn't work alone and if the other branches don't want to do it, it won't get done.

All you are doing by refusing to vote blue because "both sides are bad!!!" for either candidate is putting America in jeopardy. Trump wants anyone not like him dead or bowing at his feet. He can say project 2025 isn't his until he's blue in the face, but everyone knows the truth.

Yes, it is *kamala's* campaign you are hurting. Trumpies are incredibly ride or die, to the point where they are still desperately spreading that "immigrants eating dogs and cats" shit because they can't accept their beautiful leader would lie to them.

The American public has fallen into this state where if the ideal isn't happening, they'll throw their hands in the air and won't do anything. It's like this with tipping culture mist evidently. The people aren't being payed properly and rely on tips, so in retaliation people refuse to tip.

You are not going to get the ideal situation by putting your loved ones in jeopardy by throwing your vote somewhere it doesn't matter.

Change happens slow and with plans, not with one stint. Your revolt is litterally a common statistic of the election which has only become more relevant because of cultish behavior on the right.

A woman of color being a viable candidate for the presidential election is fucking monumental and you're all treating it like its nothing and demanding more. You're not gonna get more in the next month and couple days. Let go of your damn pride because nothing good will happen for Palestine, or Congo, or Venezuela, or anyone else if you let Trump get in.

Is Kamala Harris perfect? No. Is she even great? Not at all. But her even getting this close to the oval office is progress.

But no. Throw away your vote. It's fine. I'm sure all the Palestinians will love you once Trump gets into power and gives Netanyahu the go ahead to kill them all with no mercy.

I'm done being fucking scared.

[darklinaforever]

First picture :

Second picture :

The first person is aware that Lydia could remove the files from her mouth at any time? Literally, she takes them off on her own to talk when she gets tired of them! Beetlejuice is a very powerful fucking demon, if he wanted to completely silence Lydia he could and would have done so. However, he didn't do it. I'm tired of seeing people make this situation worse when in reality it's not as restrictive as it seems.

Same with the baby's delusion, which yes, is admittedly very disturbing at first and the only real reprehensible thing that Beetlejuice does to Lydia in this film in my opinion (because with the song that is played at their wedding ceremony and the how easily he lets Lydia send him away (I'm sure he wasn't really planning on marrying her this time). But then again, he didn't actually get Lydia pregnant ! And she didn't really give birth to his demonic child either ! And she seems to get over that weird, disgusting prank made by Beetlejuice pretty quickly.

Also, I don't know why but I never had the impression that Beetlejuice had traumatized Lydia in the first film as an attempt to affirm these people, particularly the second.

Literally, she doesn't seem to have any after-effects in the first film, and the sequel proves it even more. At what point in her scenes with Beetlejuice himself does Lydia seem to be truly afraid of him or particularly traumatized by him ? And I'm talking about the scenes where she is with him in the flesh. Because the moments when she thinks she's hallucinating his presence, it's logical that she panics. But no, she never seems terrified of Beetlejuice himself.

Not even at the famous wedding, contrary to what the second person says. This is bullshit.

The scenes where Beetlejuice makes declarations to Lydia like the serenade or the marriage, she doesn't seem disgusted (except when he throws his heart in her hands and that's somewhat normal) or terrified, or both.

She just has a face that generally says : Wtf ? Because the situation is WTF ! This wedding scene is not at all portrayed as creepy in the first place !

Frankly, it's bad form to say the opposite for me ! It’s deliberately turning a blind eye. Beetlejuice is a horror comedy, these scenes are above all funny with touches of bizarre and gothic !

The actors love their characters together, including Winona who totally ships them. To say that she played her character as being terrified of Beetlejuice is bullshit.

And even if his acting was out of step with the script, that's not the case. Because once again, Lydia is not traumatized by Beetlejuice even through writing.

Aside from the fact that Lydia doesn't want to say Beetlejuice's name to avoid screwing up her life again (and we understand), there is nothing that indicates a real fear of Beetlejuice, the individual, in her !

And no, Lydia does not have any trauma that caused her to hallucinate the Beetlejuice presence. We know it, we see it, Beetlejuice does this on his own, so when Lydia sees him it's real. These are not hallucinations resulting from trauma at all !

Yes, Beetlejuice is problematic, obviously he's a demon ! Yes, Beetlebabes also has problematic aspects, obviously since once again Beetlejuice is a demon !

(That's literally the whole appeal of this ship between these two... Nobody likes Beetlebabes because it's a healthy relationship !)

But I'm tired of people trying to make it worse than it is.

In this sequel, Beetlejuice literally saved Astrid, Lydia's daughter, and he also saved her from marrying a complete asshole !

Not only that, but the way he pursues Lydia, or courts her if you prefer, isn't really cringeworthy.

He helps her save her daughter. Saves her from a bad marriage. He plays the serenade. Gives her a hand kiss. Is ready to accept Astrid as his child. Offers her his beating heart (yuck), etc. Frankly, it's a good overall approach for me !

And even if it's frankly not cool to haunt her in recent years, the film suggests to us that it's really due to a connection between the two characters. So that balances it out a bit.

Frankly, the antis greatly exaggerate the issues of ship Beetlebabes and the character of Beetlejuice.

It's like those who say he's a pedophile, when he only seeks to marry Lydia for convenience in the first film, not because he has feelings for her. Plus people seem to forget that Beetlejuice comes from an era where girls generally married at the age Lydia was in the first film...

But hey. Really thinking about these is a bit hard obviously for the antis.

And I'm not even going to bother talking about those (like this second person) who think Beetlejuice having a picture of Lydia from the first movie on his desk is creepy...