#calling him intrusive thoughts core

[kirkwallguy]

what's your beef with spite lol i wanna hear. what would be more interesting for the lore to do with the spirits you think

he's just too silly and quirky to do anything for me, i've heard the story picks up later but atm he's just kind of a nuisance who fills a similar narrative role to manfred..... he feels like he was written in 2017 for people who liked saying things like trash gremlin. i kind of want to wait until finishing the game before making a proper judgement tbh but so far his dialogue has been pretty bad and he's just sort of extremely nothing. spite is such a mild concept as well lol like compared to hope / justice / compassion there's much less you can do with it emotionally

[thekinslayed]

A Moment's Reprieve

summary | Aemond just can't seem to get a moment alone with you, driving him to the point of madness.

pairing | aemond targaryen x wife!reader

tags | 18+, MINORS DNI!, lil quickie, rough sex, aeggy cameo <3, slight exhibitionism, semi-public sex, not proofread :P

wordcount | 3.3k

note | hi, it's been a minute <3 feeling kinda meh about this but i hope u guys like it!

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

It was hard to fuck while wearing leather. The heat from Aemond’s body was so easily trapped in its wall, dissipating into fat droplets of sweat cascading down his back. Moving around was no easy feat either, but the momentary suffering would have to suffice. He was easily lost enough in the fire in his loins that burned hotter than the damp flush creeping up his chest. His thrusts were hasty, his grip on your exposed breasts tight as he slammed himself in and out of your core.

On better days, he would have taken the time to take you apart piece by piece, perhaps starting with his mouth on your sweet cunny, but you both hardly had time to even undress. Your skirts were carelessly rucked up to your hips, neckline haphazardly unbound just enough to free your teats, while your husband had lowered his breeches just enough to expose his hard, swollen cock before he drove into you. Your grip on his bicep was tight, while your nails dug into the bedpost with the other for support as you stood by the bed’s edge. The pulsating of your core was enough to drive him mad, the dizzying haze of desire overwhelming his wife just as it did with him. 

“H-husband, I’m so close,” you moaned in his ear, head leaned back into his chest. He must have grunted something in response, though he wasn���t sure he even heard himself, voice lost in the din of loud smacking of his trim hips against your plump arse, and your sweet melodic mewls. The rising heat in his belly let him know he was right with you, only a few thrusts behind the release that threatened to overtake him. It was easy to get lost in it all— in you, in your warm, perfect walls. So much so his thrusts turned even more desperately erratic as his body moved in its own accord, his usually alert mind hardly registering the creaking of wood and the sudden breeze into his marital chambers.

Then he heard cackling.

“Seven fucking Hells, brother!” 

Aegon stood at the threshold, one hand still on the doorknob and the other clutching his stomach as he doubled over in laughter. The younger whipped his head at the intrusion, eyes widening before shifting to cover you with his body. He heard you gasp, before scrambling to cover your exposed chest away from Aegon’s curious eyes. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Aemond barked, turning to move to storm over where the idiot stood when he caught his brother eyeing the exposed flesh of your upper thigh, but your firm hand on his wrist kept him where he was to save yourself the last bits of dignity. 

“I… ha!” the elder snorted, laughter finally dying down into low chuckles that rumbled from his chest. He exhaled a deep sigh, dramatically wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “Mother sent me to call on you because court starts in five minutes and she believes the Seven Hells have cooled over when she found me ready before you, but I guess you were preoccupied, eh?” he shrugged, amethyst eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint that irked Aemond to no end. “Dear me, fucking before noon? And I thought I was oversexed.”

“Shut up before I make you,” Aemond seethed. His wife sighed, peeking over his shoulder to speak to Aegon.

“Would you give us a few moments, brother? Let Her Grace know we will be right out,” you asked softly, smiling sweetly enough to earn a tight squeeze on the hips from your dragon in warning. 

“Of course, best to, uh, finish up then,” he responded, wagging his finger mockingly before turning to leave, snickering. “Good to know I had you taught well, Aemond!”

“You fucke–”

The door slammed shut before Aemond could finish, sighing against your temple in exasperation from the ruined moment. The soft kiss on his cheek was hardly enough to make up for it, the humiliation in his chest killing whatever drive in his gut. He begrudgingly tucked his softened length back into his breeches before helping you with your laces. You turned to face him once your dress had been rightened, hugging his waist and leaning your chin against his chest. 

“Such a shame, everything was feeling so good,” you pouted up at him. Aemond grunted in agreement, head still running hot in annoyance.

Surely, the court wouldn’t be too curious if his brother strolled in with a bruise on his face. He’d been in worse shape before, what was a little marked-up cheek?

There must be some sick game the gods were playing on Aemond. They were teasing him, testing to see how long he could withhold being unable to have a moment alone with his wife before going completely mad. Court took up a better part of his afternoon, long hours of appeals and hearing whatever problems their people wished to voice. It took much of him to keep his eye forward, ignoring the heat radiating off the flesh of your arm that was warmed by the sticky air of the mid-summer sun filtering into the throne room, while you stood by your husband’s side, his nose engulfed by the flowery sweetness wafting from your hair.

Supper was just as torturous, though having you sat by his side slightly made up for it, and teasing you under the table was a good way to pass the time. Aemond’s rough fingertips crept up your skirts and took hold of your thigh, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t relish in the way you swatted his hand away in panic, cheeks growing adorably flushed. With dessert promptly served and devoured, the one-eyed prince all but jumped from his seat, your hand in tow to lead you back to the privacy of your chambers, but the deep drawl of his grandsire’s voice halted him before anything else, inviting him to the Tower to speak on a matter of the utmost discretion. He let your hand go with a scowl, helplessly watching you walk off into the direction of your apartments.

His grandsire sat him down to talk until well into the night, speaking in hushed tones of a matter of concern in the Reach. He was to fly to Oldtown to settle brewing disputes in the Hightower seat in his grandsire's stead, a task entrusted to him that required his sharp eye and his partiality to matters of politics. 

His steps were heavy on his return, his chest even heavier, and when he finally crossed the threshold of your spacious apartments, you were deep into your slumber. You snuggled up into his side of the bed, arm extending to where he should have been. When a responsibility like this would’ve once had Aemond eager to fly out at first light, he found himself unable to tear himself away from you when duty called, having found a home in your arms that sheltered him with warmth and lightness his reality was so deeply void of. 

He was gone for a sennight—a slow-passing, cruel week.  

The separation was torturous, and not a moment passed where your husband’s mind didn’t wander to his sweet wife. He’d tucked one of your handkerchiefs into his pocket before his departure, tracing the embroidered curves of your initials with his thumb when he grew agitated within Oldtown’s walls. They had given him a comfortable accommodation, a bed much too large to sleep in alone. Aemond had grown spoiled with your warmth, and with this temporary withdrawal, sleep came miserably.

At the week's end, disagreements were smoothed and hands were shaken. Aemond took to the skies, not a second too soon after the Lord Hobart thanked him for the crown’s aid, his longing for home shamelessly showing itself in the tension in his shoulders every minute he was there. Daeron would have to forgive him for not flying together as much as the younger wished, but his brother, ever the kindest out of all the dragon princes, saw him off with a nod of understanding and a firm pat on the back, whispering the promise of his own return to their family. 

Vhagar traversed the horizon at a speed unexpected for her size and age, but his old girl shared her rider’s wish for home. They cleared the distance in a day, and the returning prince was greeted by Ser Criston and a wheelhouse that would take him back to his home, to you.

But the gods wouldn’t grant Aemond reprieve that easily. 

The streets bustled with life as the carriage rolled through the cobbled streets. He had returned just in time for his father’s nameday, a week-long celebration for the ailing king that called for the grandest celebration, with music, wine, and dancing for guests hailing from all over the realm. Aemond watched through the thin slits of the carriage— faces passing in a blur, voices of every pitch overlapping the other. His brow furrowed in perplexion when they took a sudden turn, an unexpected route that led him away from the hill leading to the Keep, but right to the middle of the celebrations— the melee.

“Queen’s orders, my prince,” Cole explained, standing stoically in front of the brooding prince. “She wished to have you join the celebrations as soon as you returned, have the family all present in front of the people.”

Aemond grumbled under his breath all the way up the steps to the royal box, plopping exhaustedly into his seat beside Aegon. The elder patted him hard on the back, adding to his aggravation, clearly oblivious to his dampened mood. “Good to have you here in time to join us, brother, Reyne’s just about to fuck Tarly up,” he cackled, taking a big swig of his wine. 

“A change of clothes first would have been nice,” Aemond huffed, ignoring the battling knights as he looked around for his wife. He twisted around his seat in confusion at the absent sight of you, earning a look from his grandsire that had him uncharacteristically slumping in his seat.

“She’s with Helaena,” Aegon said, whose eyes stayed glued to the violent display before them. “Orwyle said it was ill luck for pregnant women to look upon violence or whatever he was on about. Your wife’s keeping her company.”

Aemond sighed defeatedly, his chest twinging with annoyance. Of fucking course. Everything seemed to be working against his wishes, toying with his already short patience. Gods be damned, they would know better to keep a man like him away from his wife. Perhaps this made him seem like an addict, no better than a drunk stuck to his bottle or a pervert to a whore, but he was well past the point of denying it. You were a part of him, whether either of you could help it or not.

He turned to his mother, who sat frowning with a hand half-covering her face as she watched on, muttering some half-excuse of wanting to freshen up and be rid of the smell of dragon on his skin before enjoying the festivities. The queen granted him leave with the ghost of a quirk on her lips and a knowing look, waving him off dismissively with a ringed hand.

He all but dashed the way back to the Keep, strides large and booming through the halls back to Maegor’s Holdfast. His pulse thumped heavily in his ears, his chest sparked with a renewed lightness with every step closer. Aemond found you in his sister’s apartments, sat on the settee as you embroidered. 

Your head shot up as the door swung open, eyes brightening like a starry night when they landed on him. “Aemond!” you gasped, promptly jumping up from your seat and into his arms. With how tight your arms wound around his neck, it was clear his dearest wife was just as tortured as he. 

Aemond nuzzled his nose into your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your skin he had missed dearly. With you back in his arms, right where you belonged, everything felt warm. He felt near bursting at the seams, his body immediately responding to the heat of your body pressed against his. His lips found yours on instinct, hungrily devouring the sweet taste he’d grown starved for. Large, calloused hands wandered on their own, finding purchase on your rear with a tight squeeze. It made you whine, pulling away in haste to glance at a sleeping Helaena.  Her third pregnancy often had her weary, as she was now, laid on her bed, with the twins tucked on either side as they slept through the peaceful haze of the late afternoon.

“Come,” your husband ordered, grasping your wrist to pull you out of the room. The growing fire in his loins left him too impatient to lead you up another flight of stairs where your apartments were, urgency nagging at him to hasten lest someone called for him to return to the melee. He led you with quick steps to the end of the hall, in a quiet alcove where he pressed you against the wall, caged between his arms.

His mouth devoured yours, tongue slithering into the warm cavern and dancing with your own. It soon descended onto the length of your perfumed neck, nipping and biting at the spots that pulled deep, pleasant sighs. Your hands gripped his doublet, subtly pushing him away as you called his name.

“Husband, h-here?” you asked, mewling as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot below your jaw. You were right, this wasn't exactly an ideal location for your reunion, but he was pressed for time, and having to wait to have you until nightfall would drive him to insanity.

“There’s not one soul around, dearest,” he said into your skin, parting with a kiss on the fresh mark. With the inhabitants of the Keep all away at the tournaments, the halls were empty enough, save for the occasional passing servant and the knight standing guard outside Helaena’s door. With the near ravenous state Aemond was in, he could give less fucks who could witness him taking his wife. Your skirts were messily rucked up to your hips, wandering hand dipping past your smallclothes and finding your heat, already dripping in sweet arousal. “Did you miss me this much, wife? You’re already soaked,” your husband chuckled devilishly, eye darkening when you bit your lip as he teased your slit. 

You nodded at him eagerly, a whine rising from your throat when his fingertip brushed against your pearl. “You were gone for too long, husband. It has been miserable without you. When I saw Vhagar fly over the city I could have dashed to the gates myself if Helaena didn’t need me,” you pouted. His heart swelled at your sweetness, peppering adoring kisses onto your hairline as you pulled him in even closer.

“I have been tormented just the same, my love. Every day that passed, you were all I thought about,” he whispered. “No one will keep me away from you now, sweet girl, I promise you.” 

Somewhere in the frenzy of tongue and spit, your smallclothes fell to the stone floor and his breeches were aptly unlaced. Your smaller, dainty hand wrapped around his hardened length, stroking his leaking cock. Gods, it was pathetic how he could come from your slightest touch. He grasped your wrist to stop you, gulping as he continued to twitch in your hold.

“Wait,” he huffed. The need possessed him with a primal urge, prompting him to grab hold of both of your thighs to lift you off your feet. With you pressed against the wall and holding onto his shoulders for dear life, Aemond sunk you onto his cock, down onto the hilt. There was little time to savor the subtle pulsating of your walls, his hips taking on a steady pace from the start. “Fucking... finally,” he grunted.

You bounced in his firm hold, lower back rubbing against the rough stone, but you didn’t seem to mind one bit. Quite the opposite, rather, with the way you openly moaned, your voice echoing through the dim hall. “Gods!” you whined. Your husband’s pace suddenly shifted, hips starting to slap more ferociously against yours. Any soul who would have the misfortune to walk these halls at this very moment would hear you from the opposite end from the resounding rhythm of skin against skin.

“There are no gods here, wife, just you and I,” Aemond growled against your ear, before biting down on your shoulder, making you squeal even louder.

“I– mmph! Ah, Aem–” Any semblance of coherence on your usually pretty head dissipated in a heady jumble. It made your husband smirk, despite the heat starting to tingle in the back of his neck.

“Something to say, my love? Or have I already fucked you into a loose whore, hm?” he taunted, chuckling under his breath when you merely whined in response. He was starting to overheat in his leathers, the sharp warmth in his nape slowly trickling down his spine to signal the start of his end. Something deep within his core made his abdomen flex, the ache in his thighs no match for the utter bliss of the warm embrace of your lovely cunt. With your legs wrapped around his trim waist, his hand raised to the back of your head, fingers wrapping around your hair to pull your forehead against his. He quickened his pace to spur you to your end first, thumb rubbing your pearl in tight circles. “Come for me, wife. I want to feel you spill around me. Go on,” he rasped, breath hot in your ear.

His wife was a moaning mess. You were never this loud, even in the privacy of your own chambers, but the separation had you desperate, heart sticky with need in a way you had never let yourself be before. He and you were both the same in this way, never too forward with what you wanted, until desire ate away at you from within and you started to lose better thinking.

With a particular harsh thrust, your release broke with a moan that Aemond was sure had echoed to the White Sword Tower. He came no second later with a lower, quieter grunt into your neck, spilling thick ropes of his warm seed into your quivering cunt.

You both stayed there for a second, breaths heavy and minds still in a cloud. Aemond placed you back onto your feet, though wobbly. He huffed amusedly, earning a warning smack on his chest as you furrowed your eyebrows playfully. His lips placed a kiss on your damp forehead, and you kissed his scarred cheek in return. For a second, you only looked at him, your flushed cheeks lifted in a smile, and it made him happy. 

An echo of clinking steel let Aemond know his time was up. He made sure your dress had been rightened and your hair smoothed before tying his breeches back up. The prince peeked to see Cole coming up the staircase, no doubt sent by his mother to take him away again. He sighed heavily, nuzzling one last time into your neck as you rubbed his back comfortingly. “You should go. Mustn’t let your mother fret,” you said softly. Your husband merely grunted in response, savoring the feeling of your fingers running through his hair. 

A clear of the throat from the knight made Aemond finally pull away, frowning despite the pleased smile on your lips as you smoothed his doublet. He parted with a kiss all-consuming, and whispers of a promise to fetch you the moment he could. 

His return to the royal box came with much reluctance, though his demeanor visibly changed. The tension was gone in his shoulders, his aura different, and his face not so grim anymore. He settled back into his seat with a deep exhale, directing his attention to the faceless lordlings swinging swords much too large for them, though his mind stayed in an alcove somewhere in the Keep. 

Beside him, Aegon yawned loudly, having grown deathly bored with the melee. Sensing the younger’s subtly brighter demeanor, he snickered under his breath. “Feeling rather refreshed now, are you?” he teased. 

Aemond’s gaze flickered to him in a glance, turning back to watch the young Bolton land the winning blow. “Hm, yes, quite.” He lifted his hand to a squire for wine, taking a small sip to quench his parched throat.

“Even without a proper change of clothes?” Aegon pushed, raising his brow mockingly. He cackled as Aemond shifted in his seat, a warning glare in his lone eye. The elder, unbothered, merely patted his brother’s knee as he shook his head. “Good for you, brother.”

[dakusan]

A F T E R C A R E .

stray kids ot8 x reader | eight men. one ritual: aftercare, done their way.

🖤 synopsis: 8 doms. 8 dynamics. 1 aftermath. They break you—roughly, reverently, recklessly. But this isn’t about the scene. It’s about what comes after. Warm cloths between your thighs. Praise whispered into your skin. A hoodie pulled over your trembling frame. A hand tracing your spine while you sleep. This is care, wrapped in filth. Tenderness, post-ruin. Love, spoken in bruises and bathwater. eight versions of aftercare—from gold-standard to quiet obsession.

💌a/n: I FINISHED THE MINI SERIES: BASICS. aftercare edition. in the NSFW masterlist. BABYYYY. this entire filthy love letter was birthed from the BDSM profiles (link here, yes i know you’ve read it twice) where each member got a tiny slice of aftercare—but this? this is the full spread. wrote this half-possessed, half-hydrated. cried once. spiritually spooned by chan. working on a few more songs (because the grind never stops and neither do the intrusive thoughts). p.s. if you tell me in the asks which member you want, I will write you a filthy little mini fic p.p.s. if you don’t reblog… seungmin will edge you and leave. reblogs = love p.p.p.s welcoming asks that have ideas on what i should write next. unleash thy inner sin or... the fluff. pick your poison

⚠️warnings: NSFW 18+ 🔞| minors dni — jeongin will call your mum. | dom!skz x sub!reader | BDSM-coded dynamics | detailed aftercare → consensual rough sex, degradation + praise, overstimulation, soft choking, mirror play, brat taming, impact (light), dumbification, collaring language, somnophilic sleep intimacy (soft/safe), rope use (Hyunjin), service & control dynamics → heavy focus on aftercare: bathing, caretaking, cuddling, affirmations, emotional support → crying during sex, pet names, subspace, praise kink, reader emotional vulnerability

🎶now playing: "Love Me Harder" – WOODZ

📍credits: dividers by @cafekitsune

Bang Chan // 방찬 Title: Aftercare King | Service Dom | Praise Addict Core Archetype: Gold-Standard Lover ⟡ Obsessive Worshipper ⟡ Ruins You Just to Repair You Vibe: “You’re my good girl, my sweetest mess. Let me hold you.”

⟡ He doesn’t just give aftercare—he plans for it. Water bottle filled. Towels warmed. Your favourite snacks set out next to the bed like a reward for surviving him.

⟡ Wrecks you first—face in the pillow, tears on your cheeks, overstimmed and begging. His voice like gravel dipped in honey: “Give me one more. Just one more. You can do it, baby.”

⟡ And the second you break? It’s all hands and hush now. “Breathe for me. I’ve got you.” He wipes you down gently, fingers shaking slightly from how hard he just came, but still prioritizing your comfort over everything.

⟡ Tucks you into his hoodie like it's a sacred ritual. Wraps your trembling legs over his lap, rubs your thighs while whispering, “That’s it, angel. You did so well.”

⟡ “I hurt you?” he asks softly, pressing his forehead to yours. “Color?” You whisper green. He kisses you so gently it makes you want to cry again.

⟡ Runs you a bath even if you say you don’t need it. Adds essential oils. Low lighting. Sits on the floor beside the tub just to watch you breathe. Helps wash your hair, rubbing slow circles into your scalp until your eyes flutter shut.

⟡ Gives you options: cuddles, massage, food, sleep, another orgasm if you want one. You lead now. He’ll do anything you say. “Whatever you need, love. I’m yours.”

⟡ Kisses every mark he left—collarbone, hips, wrists. Praises you like worship. “So perfect for me. Took everything. My good girl. My best girl.”

⟡ Holds you all night. Skin-on-skin, one hand flat on your belly, grounding you with his breath and soft murmurs like: “You’re safe now.” “Still mine.” “Still so beautiful.”

⟡ In the morning? He’s already been up. Cleaned the scene. Made you breakfast. You wake to kisses on your back and his voice against your neck: “Let me take care of you today too, yeah?” Like he didn’t already give you everything last night.

Lee Know // 리노 Title: Cold-Handed Caretaker | Soft Sadist | Precision Dom | Brat-Tamer Core Archetype: Silent Possessor ⟡ Rough-Hands, Velvet-Actions ⟡ Worships You Quietly Vibe: “Didn’t I tell you what happens when you act out? Now hush. I’ve got you.”

⟡ Wrecks you without raising his voice. Slaps the attitude out of your mouth with two fingers and a knowing smirk. Fucks you face-down, tears streaking the sheets, but you’re still cocky until he pins your wrists with one hand and says, “Count for me, brat.”

⟡ Aftercare is clean, controlled, and quiet. He doesn't ask how you're feeling—he just knows. Wipes between your legs with warm cloths. Pulls your shirt over your head and his hoodie over your shoulders like you’re a doll he’s dressing again.

⟡ His hands are cold, but his touch is reverent. He rubs soothing circles into your hip with one hand while holding your jaw still with the other, kissing your eyelids like they’re made of silk.

⟡ Doesn’t say “I love you.” Says: “You’re trembling.” “Drink this.” “Scoot closer.” And it means the same thing.

⟡ Pulls you into his lap post-cleanup, arms tight around your waist, chin on your shoulder. You’re barely coherent and he still mutters: “Told you not to act up. Look at you now.” But his fingers are brushing your hair back with care.

⟡ He won’t ask for praise, but he’ll melt if you give it. Kiss his neck and whisper, “Thank you,” and his grip will tighten just slightly.

⟡ Sleeps wrapped around you, one leg hooked over yours, hand always under your shirt. Not sexual—possessive. Like if he lets go, you’ll vanish.

⟡ The next morning? There’s breakfast. Painkillers. Clean sheets. Fresh water.

Changbin // 창빈 Title: Dom with a Devotion Kink | Bodyworshipper | Pillow Overstimulation Enthusiast Core Archetype: Tender Bruiser ⟡ Human Weighted Blanket ⟡ Soft Daddy Vibes Vibe: “You did so well, angel. Can I hold you now? Please?”

⟡ Fucks you like he’s trying to fold you in half, grip iron-tight on your hips, your back arched off the bed as he groans, “You can give me one more, can’t you, baby? Just one more—fuck—you’re so good for me.”

⟡ You’re crying into the sheets by the end, wrecked and boneless, his name punched out in sobs—and that’s when he slows down. Instantly. “Hey. That’s it. You’re okay. I’ve got you.”

⟡ Picks you up like you weigh nothing. Doesn’t ask if you can walk—just carries you straight to the bathroom, his hand never leaving your thigh, murmuring sweet nothings into your hair the whole way.

⟡ Washes between your legs so delicately you almost whimper again. “Shhh, I know, baby. I know you’re sensitive. I’m being gentle.”

⟡ Pulls you into his lap after. Chest to chest, forehead to forehead, his hands stroking your back while he whispers: “You were so good. So perfect. I love watching you fall apart like that.”

⟡ Feeds you with his hands—fruit, crackers, little chocolates if you’re still floaty. Calls you pet names in a voice that’s lower and softer than it was in the bedroom: “My angel. My good girl. My favourite mess.”

⟡ Tucks you into bed under three blankets, cuddles you like a bear, and still asks: “Is this warm enough? Want me to grab the heat pack?”

⟡ Sleeps with one arm locked around your waist and the other between your thighs, not to start anything—but because it's warm. Because it’s home.

⟡ In the morning? You wake up to the smell of food—he made your favourite. Shirtless, hair tousled, big grin: “Still mine?” “Because I’m definitely still yours.”

Hyunjin // 현진 Title: Rope Top | Sensual Dom | Mirror Play Specialist | Praise-Soaked Obsession Core Archetype: Devotional Artist ⟡ Soft-Spoken Destroyer ⟡ Ritualistic Lover Vibe: “Still so beautiful. Let me worship you the way you deserve.”

⟡ He ties you up like a gallery piece—all form, all intent, all control. His knots are precise, pressure intentional. And when you fall apart for him? It’s with your wrists bound and tears streaking your cheeks in the prettiest fucking way.

⟡ The moment you go limp, he switches modes like a light dimming to candlelight. Loosens the rope slowly. Rubs your wrists with warm oil. “Still breathing for me? That’s it, love. You were perfect.”

⟡ Doesn’t let you stand—carries you to the bathroom with your legs over his arms, kisses your shoulder the whole way there. Draws a bath before the scene starts. You just didn’t know it yet.

⟡ He wipes between your thighs like it’s delicate calligraphy, murmuring, “So messy. Look at you.” But it’s never degrading. He says it like you’re a work of art he got the privilege to ruin.

⟡ Fixes your hair while you sit in his lap, barely awake. Braids it if you’ll let him. Rubs circles into your back and makes you drink water from his hands like you’re his spoiled little deity.

⟡ Says things like: “You sobbed so beautifully for me tonight.” “My pretty doll. You’re glowing.” “Do you want your thighs massaged before I lotion you?”

⟡ Sleeps face-to-face with you, one hand on your cheek, the other over your heart. His forehead pressed to yours like a quiet promise. He doesn't just hold you—he anchors you.

⟡ In the morning? He wakes you up with slow kisses on your shoulder.

Han // 한 Title: Switchy Dom | Brat | Exhibitionist | Degrader with a Praise Problem Core Archetype: Chaos Dom ⟡ Hyperverbal Power Bottom Energy ⟡ Clingy Corruptor Vibe: “You’re my dumb little slut… and my favorite person in the world.”

⟡ Fucks you stupid, then immediately panics. You’re still twitching on the bed, legs spread and slicked up, and he’s already halfway to tears like, “Shit, did I go too far? Baby? Hello??”

⟡ Overstimulates you just because you were mouthing off. Hand over your mouth while he grinds into you, sweat dripping down his neck, growling, “Gonna talk back now? Huh? That mouth still got something to say?”

⟡ Melts the second you start whimpering. The moment you break? He’s whispering, “Fuck, I’m sorry—no, you’re okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” and gathering you into his arms like a baby koala on caffeine.

⟡ Can’t stop touching you. Kisses your cheeks, your nose, your neck. Rubs your back like he’s trying to memorize your spine. “You were so good. So fucking good. You still like me, right? Like, emotionally?”

⟡ Talks way too much while wiping you down. Half-filthy, half-frantic. “God, you’re dripping… wait, is that all me?” “You came so hard, babe. Like full-body possession.” “Hydrate. You need electrolytes. Do we still have those grape ones?”

⟡ Wraps around you like a blanket burrito. Doesn’t let go. Like at all. Sweaty, clingy, arms and legs tangled with yours, breath hot in your ear.

⟡ Needs praise as much as he gives it. If you whisper “You did so good for me,” he will physically glitch. Eyes wide. Blush deep. Starts nuzzling you like a kicked puppy who just got a treat.

⟡ Says shit like: “Still wanna be mine after that?” “You’re so fucking pretty when you cry.” “If you let me hold you for the rest of the night I swear I’ll never edge you again… okay maybe once.”

⟡ Sleeps on top of you. Full weight. Full snuggle. Probably drools a little.

⟡ The next day? Acts smug like he didn’t almost cry into your chest four hours ago. But if you say “Thanks for taking care of me,” he’ll turn red and mumble, “Anytime, baby. I’ll wreck you again tonight.”

Felix // 필릭스 Title: Sunshine Dom | Praise-Soaked Obsession | Soft Restraints Enthusiast Core Archetype: Golden-Hearted Handler ⟡ Gentle Dominance ⟡ Devoted Protector Vibe: “Let me love on you now, angel. You were everything.”

⟡ Fucks you like he’s in awe of you the whole time. Voice thick with need, but gentle at the edges—like he doesn’t want to break you, just push you past soft limits with love.

⟡ Holds your face while he ruins you, his forehead pressed to yours, whispering between thrusts: “Still doing okay for me, sweetheart?” “Taking me so well. So proud of you.” “You’re glowing, baby. Absolutely glowing.”

⟡ The moment you go quiet? He’s already holding you. Pulls out slow, eyes wide and tender, hands immediately sliding over your stomach to ground you. “I’ve got you now. You’re safe.”

⟡ Carries you wrapped in a towel straight to the bathroom. One arm under your knees, one around your shoulders. Kisses your temple the whole way there.

⟡ He wipes you down with pre-warmed cloths, humming softly while he works. Praises you through every step: “You did so well.” “I love how sensitive you are after.” “You let me take such good care of you.”

⟡ Cuddles you into his lap in the bath—your back to his chest, his arms over your tummy, his voice a lullaby against your ear. Gently washes your thighs, rubs your calves, presses kisses to your shoulder until your muscles stop twitching.

⟡ Feeds you tiny things—a strawberry half, a bite of cookie, chocolate on your tongue. If you whimper from the sugar or overstim flush, he just smiles and kisses your forehead.

⟡ Says things like: “My perfect girl.” “My angel, my blessing, my favourite sound.” “Let me brush your hair. Please? You look like a dream right now.”

⟡ Sleeps fully wrapped around you, head on your chest or tucked into your shoulder, one leg thrown over yours, arms like vines. Murmurs in his sleep. Curls tighter when you shift. Doesn’t let go.

⟡ In the morning? You wake up to soft kisses at the corner of your mouth and his voice like sunlight: “You okay, my love?” “Wanna stay in bed today? I’ll hold you as long as you want.” And he will. Forever, if you let him.

Seungmin // 승민 Title: Soft Service Dom | Degradation with a Leash | Pillow Over Dom Core Archetype: Clinical Protector ⟡ Emotionally Repressed but Obsessively Attentive ⟡ Silent Worshipper Vibe: “I said you could fall apart. I didn’t say I’d let you go.”

⟡ Fucks you like it’s a routine check-up. Calm. Controlled. Devastating. Uses your body like he owns the patent—knows every reaction, every nerve cluster, every exact tone your voice hits when you’re about to snap.

⟡ You’re a trembling mess under him and he’s still muttering things like: “Mm. Knew you’d be this easy tonight.” “Can’t even think, can you?” “Pretty thing. Always trying to take more than you can handle.”

⟡ Finishes with his hand around your throat, forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked as your orgasm hits like a wave—and then, silence.

⟡ Switches gears instantly. One hand on your cheek. One on your chest. “Still here?” he asks softly, like the scene never happened. But his voice has gone low and tender, like something private cracked open.

⟡ Cleans you up in silence. Warm cloth, antiseptic wipes, his hoodie pulled over your head while you’re too dazed to move. Doesn’t ask questions. Doesn’t need to.

⟡ Tucks you into the blanket like a burrito, lips brushing the crown of your head before he even realizes he did it. Rubs slow circles on your hip while your breath returns to normal.

⟡ Doesn’t speak until he’s sure you’re okay. Then—barely audible: “You did well.” “I’m proud of you.” “You’re not allowed to leave the bed for the next hour.”

⟡ Sleeps beside you, not wrapped around you but facing you. Eyes half-open in the dark, hand stretched across the bed just barely touching yours. He won't admit it, but he’s staying awake longer than you—watching you breathe.

⟡ In the morning? He doesn’t ask how you’re feeling. He already knows. Brings you tea just how you like it. Places painkillers by your pillow. And murmurs, “Don’t expect me to baby you today. …Unless you ask nicely.” Which you will. Because no one babies better than Seungmin when he pretends he doesn’t want to.

I.n // 아이엔 Title: Baby Dom | Reverent Ruiner | Praise-Sensitive Brat-Breaker Core Archetype: Gentle Sadist ⟡ Earnest Destroyer ⟡ Wholesome Aftermath Prince Vibe: “You’re okay. I’ve got you now… thank you for letting me do that to you.”

⟡ Talks big before the scene—leans into the cocky lines like, “Gonna make you cry for me, baby.” “You think I don’t know how to handle you?” And then proceeds to absolutely rail you, one hand fisting your hair and the other pressed over your mouth to keep you quiet while he whispers filth in your ear.

⟡ But the moment you break—when your body goes limp, tears streak your cheeks, and your voice cracks on his name? Everything shifts. His tone softens. His grip loosens. “Wait—shit—are you okay? Hey. Talk to me, please.”

⟡ Untangles your limbs like you’re made of glass. Kisses your shaking thighs. Pulls the blanket up over you even though you’re both still sticky. His voice breaks a little when he says, “You did so good. So, so good for me.”

⟡ Carries you to the bathroom even if he’s exhausted. Holds you while the water runs, forehead against yours like he’s still grounding himself too. Wipes between your legs, swiping slow and careful. Tries to hide his own shaking hands.

⟡ Cleans you up while murmuring his guilt into your skin. “I didn’t mean to make you cry that much.” “Next time I’ll slow down. Promise.” “But you looked so beautiful falling apart…”

⟡ Wraps you in his hoodie and pulls you into his lap like he needs you to breathe properly again. Makes you drink water. Feeds you tiny bites of sweet things like offerings. Kisses your forehead between every bite.

⟡ Praises you like it’s confession. “My good girl.” “My favourite person.” “You let me see all of you tonight. Thank you.”

⟡ Sleeps like a koala on your back—full body contact, arms wrapped around your middle, legs tangled with yours. Breath warm against your neck, murmuring soft half-sentences like he’s dreaming about you even in sleep.

⟡ In the morning? Blushes. Hard. Won’t meet your eyes at first. But brings you breakfast in his own hoodie and says: “...You still want me to hold you?” And when you nod, he climbs back into bed faster than you can blink. Because yeah—he wrecks you. But he worships you after.

[lheesluv]

I Want You (l.hs)

Soft kisses turned into deep kisses. If Heeseung thought you were horny, he was even hornier.

PAIRINGS - soft dom!heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE - smut

WARNINGS - smut (mdni), p in v, pwop, protected raw sex, breeding kink, creampie, fingering, oral sex (fem receiving), horny ass mfs, pet names, Imk if i missed anything!

WC - 2k

A/N — yall know what it is… another scene from my wattpad series "My Secret Lover.” also… happy 200 followers, yay!!! lowkey poured 3/4 of my heart into this so…

© All rights reserved Iheesluv do not copy, repost, or translate.

"Heeseung," you muttered. "Hm?" He hums, still pressing light butterfly kisses on your neck. You let out a small whine, tugging on the back of his hair gently. "What is it that you want, love? Hm?" He's clearly teasing you, forcing you to tell him with words.

"Want you," you admit, barely a whisper but loud enough for him to hear. "Do you now?" you nodded, pleading. "Yes, please."

You watched as he pulled his t-shirt over his head in awe, admiring his upper body.

He raises his eyebrow, looking down at you. "Are you going to watch me or get undressed too?" You nodded shyly and started to undress yourself as he undressed his lower half.

You watched him with hooded eyes as he jerked his length against your bareness. He was doing this as if he was teasing you.

"Seung-ah," you called his name out in a whine. "Yes, love?" He answers you with a sly smile. He knew what he was doing. He knew it made you lose my patience.

He held his length against your core and slowly grinded the tip of his dick up and down your wet slit. Your eyes closed tight, squirming under him. "P-Please," you begged for more.

"Hm," He hums softly, still slowly grinding against you, spreading more slick. The head of his cock occasionally bumps your clit with every drag. "I think you need some prepping first, don't you think, darling?" He says, retracting from you.

You whine at the sudden loss of friction. "Shh, shh. I got you, baby. You'll get me soon," he says, spreading your thighs apart with the palm of his hand.

Slowly, he collects your wetness with his middle finger up and down before slipping the finger inside. The sudden intrusion made you gasp. Your hands immediately gripped his sheets under you.

He moved his finger in and out a few times before slipping a second finger in. You let out a shaky breath, followed by a soft moan as you felt the pad of his fingers massaging the inside of your walls.

The sopping wet sound echoed in the four-walled room as his fingers thrust in and out of your pussy every time. Your cheeks flushed pink feeling embarrassed, but it was slowly forgotten when the pleasure took over.

"You're so wet, baby. Who's all of this for? Hm?" He coos. "Y-You, for you," you gasped, arching your back at the feeling.

He pulled his fingers away and before you could complain, the warmness of his tongue came in contact with your pussy.

You gasped. Your hands that were once gripping the best sheets shot up to hold a grip on his hair. "F-Fuck, Heeseung." He hums against your core, flicking his tongue up and down your slit, lapping up your wetness.

You tightened your grip on his hair, causing him to groan against you. His arms were wrapped around your thighs, speeding up each lick. The sharp point of his nose continuously stimulated your clit. "T-Too much."

Heeseung pulls away with a string of salvia connected from your wetness to his lips. He used the back of his hand to wipe his lips before hovering over you again.

He leans in to kiss you again as his arms roam around your body. He pulls away briefly, still centimeters away from you. "Heeseung," you whisper. "Yes, darling?"

"I want you."

Heeseung looks at you with soft eyes before chuckling softly. His fingers tucked a few loose strands behind your ear. "You know I'm not doing this to get you back right? I genuinely want to be with you." You nodded, smiling softly at the boy.

"Only if you say yes, my love."

"Yes. Please, Heeseung."

He positioned himself in missionary position. He looked at you with worry. "Condom. Fuck, I left it in my car." "I'm on a pill today, it's okay," you assured him.

With no hesitation, he slowly pushed himself in. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling the tip of his cock brush past your cervix. He groans once he's bottomed out completely.

"Fuck, so tight," he says with a shaky breath. You let out a mewl, feeling the veins of his cock with every drag. Your hands went to clutch his sheets, unable to take the pleasure.

He had wrapped his hands under your thighs, pulling you closer to his pelvis. Surely, marks will be left on your thighs, but that was the least of your worries right now.

His length got coated with your slick after every thrust. His pace gradually sped up, easily slipping in and out of you due to your wet arousal.

Your back arched at the immense feeling, your head throwing back into his pillow. "G-God, you're s-so good," you breathed out past your parted lips.

"Yeah? Does it feel good?"

"Yes, fuck yes it feels so good," you blabbered out, trying to surpass the moans that wanted to slip out.

His sweaty bangs covered his forehead, sweat threatening to drip. His eyebrows were furrowed as his parted lips let out stuttered moans.

Your own eyebrows furrowed not only at the pleasure but at how goddamn hot Heeseung looked right now.

"Fuckkk," you whined, trying to open your eyes again. You noticed how he would let out a small pant after his cock would slam into you.

"Shit, you're fucking dripping, darling," he chuckles softly, gently squeezing your thighs. "Rub yourself for me, baby."

You obeyed his order and slowly rubbed your clit. "Oh, f-fuck." Your eyes shot open, surprised at the new sensation. His cock head managed to hit your g-spot so well. You cried his name out in pleasure.

"You're not going to cum yet, are you, love? Hm?" he asks me, still lunging his cock in me. You quickly shook your head. "N-No."

"Good because I'm not done with you."

He releases his grip from your thighs and balances himself on your sides, chest to chest. Your arms moved to hold a grip on his back.

You felt his breath against the side of your neck with every thrust. The room was filled with your skin slapping and constant moans. You hated how quiet Heeseung kept himself.

"I wanna hear you too," you whispered in his ear. Heeseung let his bottom lip go from his bite and let out a sultry moan.

He then bent your right leg and pressed it up to your chest. His hips kept moving and never faltered. He would let out groans when he felt your nails digging into his back.

"My pretty perfect girl," Heeseung pants in the crook of your neck, snapping his hips against yours. You felt your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling him hit every right spot. "Fuck, H-Heeseung, please, please, please," you cried.

"Are you close, baby? Do you want to cum?" He asked, almost teasing you. You answered him, nodding your head repeatedly. His hips somehow moved faster, fucking you faster to your climax.

Your body felt weak. You just laid there, letting him use you as a fuck toy.

"C-Cumming, Fuck, I-I'm cumming! H-Heeseung!" You cried out. Your high-pitched moans filled the room as you hit your climax.

Heeseung left soft kisses on your face as you calmed down from your high. "You didn't get to finish yet," you said in a soft tone. Heeseung smiled and stroked your head. "Think you can take more of me?" He asks in a teasing tone.

You simply nodded. You purposely clenched your walls around his hard cock in you, forcing a groan out of him.

He pulled out of you, causing you to let out a small whine at the loss of friction.

"Turn around for me."

You turned your body around and stuck your ass up. He positions his cock at your hole and massages your ass.

"Push it back on me, baby," he ordered you softly. You use your knees to push yourself back on him. Pushing his dick in yourself felt different, but good.

You whined into his pillow, breathing heavily at the stretch. You lifted your head up and turned your neck back, waiting for your next order.

"Come on. Fuck yourself on me. Make me cum."

The insides of your stomach turned at his lewd words. You start using your knees, fucking yourself back on his dick. His hands that were on your ass guided you with each thrust.

"F-Fucking shit, you're so good, baby," Heeseung sighs. From how weak his voice sounded, you already knew how he looked. His eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed. His teeth biting down on his lip to hold back his moans, wanting to assert his dominance.

You whimpered back in response, feeling every inch of his length move in and out of you. Your legs started to feel weak. You turned your head back, admiring the state Heeseung was in.

"Please fuck me," you begged him. "Tired already?" You nodded, biting the bottom of your lip, feeling him thrust into you slowly.

You dropped your head down and buried your face in his pillow. My loud moans and cries were muffled, allowing you to hear his groans and moans better.

"God, you're so wet. All for me, baby?" he asked you, panting. You nodded your head. "Y-Yes. All for y-you, Hee." "Fuckkk," Heeseung moans, gripping your waist tighter, slamming his hips against your ass.

"Shit! Just like t-that, fuck!" You sobbed out in pleasure. "Just like that?" he asks you, hitting that spot repeatedly. "Fuck! Y-Yes, yes," you moaned, sloppily moving your hips back on him.

As you got near your second climax, your walls clenched around him more frequently. His balls slapped against your ass after every hard thrust.

"You like me deep inside you like this, don't you? God, you're so fucking p-perfect. You're all mine, f-fuck," Heeseung babbles out as he moves his hips at a fast pace. You lay there, only being able to let out moans.

The more he talked, the closer it brought you to your climax. You managed to turn your head back again, wanting to see him.

"I-I'm close, baby. J-Just a little more, please," he moans out with closed eyes and clenched jaw. "You're gonna let me cum in you, right? Won't you, my pretty princess?" His pace never slowed down as he rambled out dirty words.

You didn't have the energy to respond. You only clenched around his thick length and moaned. "You'd like that, won't you, baby?" His hips started to stutter as he got close to his release.

"F-Fuck, you would like that— me filling you with my cum," he answered for you. His words rather seemed to be guiding him closer to his climax.

"Please c-cum in me, H-Heeseung," you managed to speak past your stuttered moans. His hips moved faster and harder. The wet noise, moans, and slapping intensified.

"Oh god— fuck, Heeseung," you moan with a sigh, gripping the sheets tightly. His breath got shorter and shorter, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

"Turn around. I need to see your face when you cum for me."

You did as he said and he took no time to plunge himself back into you. "Fuck, your tight pussy is gonna make cum, baby," he moaned, throwing his head back as he thrusts into you.

"Please cum inside of me," you cried out, desperate for his cum. "Keep talking to me like t-that," Heeseung groans, his grip on your hips tightening.

"Want your cum so bad," you whimpered. You chewed on my bottom lip, holding back your moans, wanting to hear him when he cums. You watched as his eyebrows knit together again, his teeth biting down harshly on his bottom lip when the pleasure felt too good.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, I'm cumming. Fucking cumming in this tight pussy," his stuttered moans blended together with your high-pitched moans. "Cum with me, baby."

You felt him twitch in me before his warm cum painted your walls as you released with him. He pulls out and watches his cum flow out of you in awe.

You both panted heavily from the rough workout. Heeseung dropped his body beside you and pulled you close to him.

"Thank you," he whispered, rubbing the sides of your waist. "For what?" "For being a good girl for me," he giggles, rubbing the tip of his nose against the crook of your neck.

[rawjutsu]

omg..more dilf!satoru gojo x collegestudent!freader please??

thank GOD someones on board with me on this 🙏

was thinking about dilf!satoru making you move in with him and yuuji, definitely just bc his son needs extra attention and totallyyy not because its all part of his plan to make you into a barely-20-something-year-old housewife.

cw: dubcon undertones, age/power imbalance, coercion, emotional manipulation, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink, heavy degradation, possessiveness, choking, parental substitution, implied loss of autonomy, reader is 20 and is called "kid", satoru is a gross dirtbag in his mid-thirties PLS read at your own discretion

after noticing how often you’re already at his house and how close you’ve grown to yuuji, satoru decides to make his move. he approaches you with a calculated offer: move in full-time as yuuji’s live-in caregiver. he frames it as practical—more hours, free room and board, and extra pay to help you finish school (yeah right). you hesitate at first, but the offer makes too much sense to ignore. the stability, the convenience, and the growing emotional connection to the household all wear you down. eventually, you agrees. satoru is smugly satisfied—this was his plan from the start. he’s one step closer to keeping you exactly where he wants you, and you continue to fail to see it.

the arrangement is fine until one morning, over breakfast, yuuji looks up at you with sleepy eyes and calls you mommy. you laugh it off, but satoru doesn’t. his smile sharpens as he sips his coffee, watching you like he’s already claimed you.

later, while yuuji’s occupied with cartoons, you’re in the kitchen rinsing dishes, trying not to overthink it. but then satoru is there again, close—too close. he leans against the counter, his voice low and deliberate.

"he's right, you know," he says, sipping his coffee nonchalantly. "you are his mother now. in every way that counts."

his eyes rake over you, a possessive gleam in their icy blue depths. you feel a shiver run down your spine, a mix of fear and dark anticipation.

his hands grip your hips, pulling you back against his hard body. you can feel his erection pressing into your ass, already thick and ready.

"i own you now," he murmurs through a sadistic grin, his lips brushing your ear. "this body, this cunt, this womb...all mine to use as i please."

his hands move to your stomach, rubbing circles over the flat expanse. "gonna breed you over and over, kid," he groans, his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your pants. "fill this belly with my child until you're big and round with it."

you whimper at his words, a twisted mix of fear and desire. the thought of carrying his baby, of being bred like some animal, it should repulse you. but instead, it only makes your pussy clench with need.

satoru seems to sense your submission, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub in harsh circles. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

"beg for it," he demands, his voice rough with lust. "beg me to breed you, to pump you full of cum until it's dripping down your thighs."

his other hand moves to your breast, groping the soft flesh through your shirt. he pinches your nipple hard, sending jolts of painful pleasure straight to your core.

"please, satoru," you moan, too far gone to care about the degradation. "please breed me, fill me with your baby. i.. i need it."

he chuckles darkly, pleased with your submission. "good girl," he praises, ripping your pants down in one brutal tug. "gonna give you what you need."

with one hard thrust, he's inside you, stretching you open around his thick shaft. you cry out at the sudden intrusion, your nails digging into the countertop.

"fuck, you're still so tight," he groans, pulling out and slamming back in. "gonna ruin this pussy for anyone else."

he sets a brutal pace, pounding into you with animalistic fervor. the kitchen fills with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, your moans and cries echoing off the walls.

"take it, kid," satoru snarls, one hand fisting in your hair. "take my cock like a good little breeding bitch."

his other hand moves to your stomach, rubbing circles over where his child will one day grow. the thought makes you clench around him, and he groans in approval.

"that's it, milk my cock," he pants, his hips snapping faster. "gonna fill this belly with my seed."

you can feel him growing thicker inside you, his balls tightening as he nears his peak. the knowledge that he's going to cum, going to breed you right here in the kitchen, sends you over the edge.

"oh god, satoru!" you moan out, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. your pussy spasms around him, trying to milk him for every drop.

with a final brutal thrust, he buries himself deep and comes with a loud groan. his hot seed floods your womb, filling you up just like he promised.

he stays inside you as he catches his breath, his softening cock pulsing with the last of his release. when he finally pulls out, his cum immediately starts to leak out of your abused hole.

"look at that," he chuckles darkly, swiping some of his seed and pushing it back inside you. "can't let a drop go to waste."

he spins you around, cupping your face in his hands. his eyes bore into yours, filled with dark possession. he smiles.

"you're mine now, kid," he repeats, sealing his words with a rough kiss. "my little breeding toy. and i'm going to use you every day until my baby is growing in your belly."

[queen-of-gotham]

It’s A Love Story

(Wally West x batsis!reader)

Word Count: 1,930

Synopsis: you and Wally have been friends forever, but something’s changed. Can you feel it too?

Warnings: not beta read. Just tooth rotting fluff.

Notes from the batcave: Shout out to Pookie (@sobbingscripter ) for the idea and getting my creative brain juices flowing ❤️

Wally doesn’t think he could pinpoint the exact moment his brain chemistry went a bit askew when it came to you. When he started seeing you as a woman and not just his friend.

As long as he can remember, it’s been the two of you gossiping, playing games, having movie nights, and dinner dates, and so much shit talk about each other’s partners. All that typical best friend stuff.

You two practically grew up together, along with your older brother, Dick, and the original Teen Titans.

He was privy to all your phases growing up, every step you took living in the public eye as Bruce Wayne’s daughter. Wally watched the way you grew and matured and changed your image ever so often, though he wasn’t sure if it was to stay relevant in the media or if you actually just wanted to fade away from the cameras.

He saw your hyper-femme, pinks and lace and gold accessories.

He saw your preppy plaid skirts, and knee-high socks with sweater vests.

He saw you finally settle into some kind of old money aesthetic. You truly looked like you had been born with that silver spoon you had simply inherited in your tailored blazers and fitted skirts. Expensive jewelry you never flashed or showed off, just existing with the Rolex on your wrist, and a strand of pearls laying over your neck like it’s normal and typical.

You’d always looked beautiful, of course. That was never a question, but something about seeing you standing out on the balcony of the Wayne Manor, dressed to the nines in a gown Wally is sure cost more than his annual salary… something made it click in his mind that just maybe he’d been looking at you wrong your entire relationship.

There’s only a few years difference between you and the speedster. Wally can recall days of you two and Dick running around this very manor as young kids and him calling you annoying, because at the time you were just Dicks annoying little sister. Wally also remembers how you cried when he said that and Dick smacking him hard upside the head to apologize to you.

Always the princess.

Wally remembers when Dick first left the manor and started the Titans. That’s when your friendship really blossomed because you chose him to complain to. He didn’t get it at first. He can still hear your voice saying, “Your Dick’s best friend, you’re the only one who would get it.”

And eventually, those phone calls got longer. Inside jokes became fashioned into the threads of your friendship, and the very core of who you two were. Jokes, belly-aching laughs, and a mutual platonic love for who each of you was as people.

You also joined the team eventually.

A stray thought would cross Wally’s mind from time to time, of course! He was a teenager, and you… well, you were gorgeous. Model material. You smelled like you came straight out of heavens bakery, expensive and just out of reach.

But those thoughts were intrusive. You were his best friend! And not to mention his other best friend’s little sister. And he was just some guy from a small city in Kansas who in no world would ever be good enough.

Especially now when he sees you all dolled up for the Wayne Family Gala, and neither of you are teenagers anymore. You’re a gorgeous woman of 23 now. A floor-length gown hugging your frame as you lean onto the balcony ledge of the upper floor in the ballroom, just far enough away from the chaos to catch your breath and let down the mask of being a Wayne for a handful of moments.

You’d always told Wally there were two versions of yourself. The you in the public eye and the you behind the mask. And he could see where they stood as different personas.

You, in the public eye, were a Wayne with far too much PR training. You could sniff out the paparazzi faster than anyone he’d ever met, not that he knew many people who deal with them, but still. You were put together, a perfectly curated young woman of high society that cared a lot about philanthropy and fashion.

Then there was the you behind the mask, who was by all accounts a bad-ass vigilante that was rooted in justice and feminism and making sure your message was always centered and clear when cleaning up the streets. You wanted little girls to see your heroic acts and know that they could be destined for greater things. Let the men have all the fun saving the day? You would never.

But Wally knew that there was a third version of you, one that very few people ever got to see. Wally knew the real you. The one who steals his clothes because they’re comfy, and makes the excuse that you’dnever be caught dead in a Walmart, but these are cozy. As you curl up with him for movie nights. The you that made him your personal gopher when you’d go shopping and always insisted to the paparazzi that he was your friend, sometimes you’d say assistant. Other times you’d ramble off that he was your dog walker, your stylist, anything to fuck with the intrusive questions while wearing a smile so sincere it would make anyone believe you.

He knew the you that didn’t feel the need to be so guarded when it was just the two of you. You who would laugh loudly, or kick your feet when you’re giddy about the latest gossip. Who’s naturally a bit more brazen and unkempt. You who dances around and sings off-key. The you who would devour a plate of bone-in wings and not worry about the sauce being all over your pretty manicured fingers and face because the only one who sees is him and the television set.

He sees the you that’s so perfectly imperfect, not just the made-up exaggerated version standing there looking like a damn panting out of the Louvre.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, coming up behind you, the crisp nighttime summer breeze blowing past you both.

You turn your head just a bit, that prepared camera-ready smile relaxing to something more genuine when you realize it’s him and nod.

“Yeah. Just needed a minute.” You answer, looking back out over the garden of the manor.

Wally feels like you’ve stolen his breath away the way the moonlight dances across your skin and makes your eyes sparkle. He’s making mental notes to thank Bruce for allowing him to come tonight just to see this ethereal version of you standing before him.

He hums in response to you, moving to lean on the ledge beside you. You must have felt comfortable because for a couple of fleeting moments it’s like you forget where you are, that cameras are littered around the event looking for a story to make, or maybe you just don’t care what the reporters might skew as you delicately lay your head on his shoulder and just enjoy the quiet of the night and the soft roar of the party happening inside.

Wally was so down bad.

His heart was skipping, and he’s certain there’s an entire zoo wreaking havoc in his stomach, not just butterflies, especially when you tip your head to look up at him through those false dark lashes that frame your pretty eyes better than any poet could ever write into words.

He swallows hard, leaning down to press his forehead to yours, letting his eyes fall shut because he’s scared if he stares too long he’s going to start blurting things he can’t easily take back.

He loves you.

He loves how you smile when he brings your favorite flowers every time you say you’ve had a rough day. He loves the way your eyes soften when you talk with little kids, and how they light up when you hold a baby. He loves how you drink iced coffee when there are feet of snow out in the streets. He loves the way your nose crinkles a bit when you take that first sip of champagne. He loves that mischievous smile you get when you’re being spontaneous. He knows every lyric to your favorite Taylor Swift songs, He could go on and on and-

Yeah, he’s sure. He loves you.

He doesn’t know when the yearning started or how it got to here, but part of him doesn’t want to screw it all up, and tell you and be wrong about the little inkling in his chest that just maybe you feel the same way for him.

Maybe you yearn for him too. You notice the little gestures. The flowers. The good morning texts. The sweet dreams voice notes. You remember his favorite comics, and his every order and every restaurant the two of you have ever eaten at. You’ve counted every freckle that litters his face… maybe you do it too. He has suspicions.

You’ll stare his direction a little too long, or so easily collapse into his arms after a tough mission. You’ll make little comments that eat at his brain because he just knows deep in his soul that you have to love him too, right?

But how does he ask that?

What if he’s wrong?

What if he screws this all up and loses you and the friendship the two of you built?

But as he pulls back from you, your pretty gaze on his green eyes again, he swallows hard. There’s electricity in the moment, you feel it too, right? You have to, he’s sure of it.

His eyes linger over your face, taking in every small detail that he memorized long ago. His hand comes up, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and he catches the way your breath hitches just a bit.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says softly, his words coming out just above a whisper, and that sweet smile he loves pulls at your plush lips, a pink dusting your cheeks.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” You say back, your entire focus on him and this moment that feels like maybe, just maybe he might finally make the move you’ve been waiting for ages for.

“I- um…” God, he’s trying so hard to find the words, to do or say something that doesn’t make him seem like a complete idiot, and you just wait so patiently for a few fleeting moments, trying not to scare him off before he finds his footing in the conversation. “Would you- I mean, can I-“

“Are you going to kiss me or not?” You finally blurt out, trying not to laugh at how he was tripping over his words, and he grins, ear to ear, like you just told him he won the lottery.

“Can I?” He asks, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek as well, holding your face delicately, like something precious, a piece of art to be admired.

“Obviously.”

He presses his lips to yours in a somewhat timid, soft kiss filled with trepidation. Slow and steady, the complete opposite of either of your hearts. But for a first kiss, it’s filled with sparks and longing, and all the built-up tension between you is finally finding somewhere to simmer other than the longing spaces in either of your souls.

He didn’t have to yearn anymore. He has you, and you’ve just confirmed it for him, and he’s so excited to see what the future with you may hold.

🦇return to the batcave🦇

🪺DCU Masterlist🪺

[thevelvetvampyre]

Pink lace - Raymond Leon x stepdaughter reader

Summary: Raymond finds his stepdaughters lacy thong and has a *hard* time accepting how much she’s grown.

Warnings: angry sex, face fucking, age gap, slight incest, he’s aggressive😍, squirting, ROUGH, p in v , small sprinkle of ‘daddy’ and ‘little girl’ but not much, general adult content and smut (one small mention of story line / time as money reference) no context at all basically just porn - no foreplay just basically desperate angry fucking

I feel like this is shit xx

🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒🍒

Tutting as he rummaged around the pile of dirty laundry to find his favourite black pullover, your stepdad Raymond was growing agitated at its lack of presence in the basket.

Flicking the fabric around as his wrist threw countless pieces of material, he internally complained about your mother and her inability to wash his clothes on time.

Useless bitch.

Huffing out as he stopped his search, his eyes remained on the pile as he furrowed his brows at the baby pink that slightly peaked out around the surrounding darkness.

Blinking at the pop of colour for a few seconds before reaching in and pulling the fabric out, his eyes widened as he clenched his jaw at the lacy, soft pair of pink panties in his fingers.

Slightly rotating them in his hand as he continued to pinch around the hip, the vein in his neck protruded as his blood pumped in disgust.

His face heated up and his teeth grated, ignoring his hardening cock pull at his core as he analysed how slutty the panties were, how pathetically thin the material was and how the size of them were a lame excuse for underwear.

Knowing they didn’t belong to your mother as she stopped making an effort to arouse him way too long ago, he swelled under his waistband as he pictured your young, tight body in nothing but the soft lace he held in his fingers.

His anger flushed across his skin as he thought he raised you better than this, better than an easy whore who wore close to nothing to cover her cunt under her clothes.

Clenching his jaw painfully shut and fisting a ball around your panties, he turned around and stormed through the hallway to your bedroom.

“What do you call these?”

The door swung open and his voice boomed through your walls, shooting your head up in fright as his intrusion into your room was aggressive and heart pounding.

Looking up at him, he stood proud with your panties dangling in the air and your cheeks flushed a warm red, embarrassed that your stepfather was showing you your own underwear and questioning your choice of undergarment.

“A thong? Really? I didn’t raise you to be a whore!”

He dropped his hand and furrowed his brows at you, shaking his head in disbelief as you sat on your bed hoping the sheets would suck you whole.

“Why are you touching them!”

You blurred out, your voice louder than what you had intended.

“Don’t you dare raise your voice at me…”

He held his finger up and you pouted at his tone.

“If your mother wasn’t such a useless wife I wouldn’t of found these.”

He spat through his teeth and spoke his words like venom, a strong vibration of hatred bouncing off of him as he spoke.

“I’m a grown woman! I can wear whatever-“

You crossed your arms as you defended your clothing choices, wishing he’d just drop it and leave you alone as per normal.

“Yeah? You’re a grown woman huh?”

He spoke sarcastically and waved his hands to his sides in unison to his words, mocking and belittling you in your own room.

“Yes! I can wear whatever I want.”

You stated yourself obviously, his face cringing in disgust at your proud words.

“Grown enough to dress like a slut?”

Your cheeks deepened with his words, thrown off guard by his explicit language.

“Grown enough to be wearing practically nothing around your cunt?”

He started walking closer to your bed, your core heating up as you’d never seen him so seething before.

Covering your ears in response to his filthy words, he held your panties up in front of him and cocked his brows in irritability to your lack of responses.

“Stop! Please… stop.”

You squeezed your eyes yet felt your cunt pool in your shorts, a confusing mix of arousal and humiliation to his harsh words.

“Disgusting.”

He threw your panties onto your bed and you snatched them, removing them from his sight in hopes he would soon leave your room after making his point so clear.

Unfortunately, he turned to your dresser, stomping down as he ripped open the top drawer and widened his eyes at the array of lace, pink and white that coated the base of the wood.

“What’s this?”

His words were sharp as he pulled out a white corset.

“Fuck… what’s this?”

His words sobbed, now pulling out a sparkly pink bra your mother got you when you turned 16.

He continued to rip out items of lingerie as his face pulled into a more disgusted look than it was a few seconds prior, contradicting his leaking, pulsating tip at just how soft and plush your lace was.

You watched as your expensive panties and bras were chucked onto the floor, the humiliation stinging your chest as with each piece he pulled, the angrier he seemed to become.

“Oh my god… stop!”

You screeched at him. He stopped instantly but remained paused in his position for a couple of seconds before dropping his hands slowly off your drawer and turning his neck onto you.

His hair was falling in his face and his cheeks were flushed, his irritation proving apparent on the cringed look on his face.

“Is this what you wanted?”

His voice was soft and quiet now, pulling your back up straight as it jarred you to see him so emotional.

He was never not emotional, just he didn’t have a good relationship with your mother anymore. Fuck, did anyone? She hadn’t even been home for the past few days, unsure of her whereabouts created tension between you and your stepfather that you didn’t dare address or talk about.

“Is what what I wanted?”

You spoke through exasperated words, tired of his fickle mood and unnecessary anger.

“This…?”

He turned around and walked fiercely towards you, reaching down to his crotch and grabbing his thick, throbbing cock.

“Is this what you wanted?”

He walked over to the side of your bed, pulling you by your hair to sit on the edge and grasping your scalp violently as he shook you to his words.

“To see your step daddy’s hard cock in your face?”

He held you inches away from his groin, his fingers wrapping around his painfully obvious veiny shaft. Your cunt dripped at how deliciously huge he was, feeling his heat so close to your face made you burn an internally feral heat to your core.

“N-no.”

You muttered out, licking your lips as they swelled and your face heated with arousal.

He groaned a throaty growl as his fingers pressed further into your scalp. Panting slowly as he felt his cock grow angry in impatience.

“Fix it.”

He spoke through his teeth, shaking your scalp to bring you closer to his erection.

Moving as fast as you could as soon as he gave you the green light, your delicate fingers worked on his zip and shook his jeans down, watching as they pooled at his ankles and biting your lower lip in anticipation.

Pawing desperately at his piping hot, clothed cock he groaned and rolled his head back, his eyes rolling with his neck and his jaw clenching in an attempt to hide his animalistic groans to your soft touch.

Feeling at his erection through the cotton of his underwear, your cunt was leaking onto your bed sheets as you had waited so long to finally feel him.

Ripping his waistband away from his hips, his massive, needy cock sprung out and landed close to your face, a squeak leaving your lips as he looked even bigger free than he did behind the prison of his underwear.

Opening your mouth slightly to take his salty, pre cum covered tip in your mouth, he swung his head down and furrowed his brows as his jaw dropped at how cute you looked with your stepfathers cock on your lips.

“Oh fuck… suck your daddy’s cock.”

He mumbled through a groan, listening to his instructions you took a couple of inches of him into your mouth.

Just after his tip was wrapped in your wet lips through your delicate, soft sucks, he gripped tighter at the back of your head and snapped his hips forward.

His balls were on your chin and you gagged around the size of him, your nose on his pubic area as your eyes swelled and you sobbed out through your nose.

You squirmed beneath him as an acid kicked in your chest, his huge cock breaching your neck and suffocating you as he groaned at how tight your throat was.

“Oh baby…”

He pulled his hips out and flexed at the string of spit that followed, his brows knitting tighter together and his breath leaving his lungs.

“Fuck!”

He winced, snapping his hips forward once again and slamming his tip well past your tonsils.

Grunting at the feeling your mouth around him, he continued to grasp at your hair till your scalp stung as he fucked your throat violently, snapping his hips forward in a painful force and dragging his cock out even faster.

You began suffocating as your eyes poured with pained tears and your palms rested on his upper thighs.

Your plush room was filled with sounds of you gagging, sobbing and his groans. Your spit began to pour outside your mouth, dripping liquid out your cunt and mouth simultaneously.

“Look at you go little girl…”

He grunted through quick pants, praising how well your throat was taking his cock as he repeatedly slammed himself into the back of it.

“Taking me so well.”

His voice was possessed with growls.

You thought you may pass out, your eyes rolling at your lack of breath and the sting in your scalp, your nose running and spit pouring as he fucked the hole in your face with no sympathy.

After fucking your mouth for what felt like hours, he dragged his hips out and his pulsating tip bounced in front of your face, glistening with his pre cum and your saliva against your pretty fairylights.

Quickly reaching past you, he lent over and grabbed your panties you attempted to hide from him earlier.

Shoving them in your mouth and as you muffled ‘mhm’ at the taste of yourself, he shoved your shoulders down onto the bed and began stroking his swollen cock at the sight of you whoring yourself out to him.

“Look how fucking easy you are…”

His knees stood strong as he watched over you, your eyes brimming with tears from his violent thrusts and your pussy leaking out onto the bed.

He let go of his cock and hooked his fingers under your shorts, ripping them from your body and groaning at your dripping cunt that glistened beautifully in your room.

“Such a slut.”

He spat his words, your muffled moan leaving a wet spot on the cotton in your mouth.

Dropping his body over yours, his hand fell next to your face as his neck stayed down to watch his tip get soaked by your desperate, leaking cunt.

“Oh yes… soak my fucking cock.”

His voice was low as he dragged his tip along your aching slit, needing his cock to fill you and fuck you till you hurt.

You muffled through the used underwear in your mouth and your brows furrowed, wiggling underneath him to attempt to show him how needy you were for him.

Grasping at one of your hips to keep you still, he grunted angrily and snapped his eyes to yours.

“Don’t be so fucking desperate.”

He spat on your face as he scolded you, your eyes swelling at his words and your core aching impatient for him.

Stroking his tip once more from your clit to your hole, he sunk into your cunt and your back arched at the feeling of him stretching you out.

Dropping his head into the crook of your neck and feeling his groan vibrate into your skin, your eyes swelled as he rolled deeply into your body.

Pulling his palm from the side of you to your mouth, his head remained in your neck as his hand covered your already cotton gagged lips.

Pulling his hips out as you shook at the feeling of his huge cock leaving your tight hole, your pussy swelled around him and clenched as he pushed into you once more.

“So fucking tight princess…”

You felt his legs shake as his hips met yours once again, his cock filling you to your tummy and leaving you fuller than you’d ever felt.

Pulling out and slamming into you once more, his pace fastened as he furiously fucked your tight cunt and moaned in sync to your clenching walls.

Feeling the knot in your groin heat up as your orgasm chased you, he felt your body tense and fucked you in the same spot, hitting the soft point inside of you as your sobs became deafening.

Feeling the heat come undone, you squirted and leaked aggressively against his lower stomach and your walls filled with a loud wet, squelching noise as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

Convulsing under him, you shook violently as the rush ran over your skin, your stomach sticking to his with each thrust.

“Making such a mess around your daddy’s cock.”

His eyes pulled up to meet yours, admiring the way you looked cock drunk beneath him.

He groaned and his neck fell forward once more, his eyes meeting the back of his head as you fluttered around him.

Tears were pouring out your eyes as you muffled a scream into the cotton, your knuckles turning white from how hard you were grasping at the sheet below you.

Pulling his head up once more to meet your eyes, his face was red and flushed as his eyes were wet and lips moist.

“Let me hear those- oh fuck- pretty moans baby.”

He ripped the cotton out your mouth, a large sigh escaping your lips now that you could finally breath.

You moaned loudly, whining in pain as his cock continued to plough into you unforgivingly.

“Yes- yes… fuck!”

His strokes continued to fuck you as they turned sloppy and weak, his balls tightening as they emptied his cum into the back of your walls.

The sound of you moaning sent him over the edge, spilling his seed into you as you bounced on the bed beneath him.

“God- gonna have you dripping my cum all week.”

His voice was husky as his hips snapped into yours for the last time, holding them close to your skin as you felt his cock flex inside of you.

You watched his face blush and his brows furrowed, a slight sweat glistening over his skin as his lips were swollen and wet as he came hard inside of you.

A choked moan left his lips and his eyes squeezed, a look that could be mistaken for pain is what you would’ve thought he was feeling if he wasn’t shooting his thick, white liquid into the back of your pussy as he did so.

Leaving his softening erection inside of you, he rested his forehead on your chest as he breathed heavily in an attempt to catch his breath.

Your sticky stomach was connected to his and your room filled with the smell of sex and sweat. Grunting, he pulled out of you and rolled next to your panting body.

“Don’t let me catch you with those again…”

He turned his neck to look at you. Your pussy stung against the cold air as his violent thrusts had split you in two.

“Unless if that’s all you’re wearing.”

Suddenly, your mum not being home was a good thing. Laying there as you stared at him next to you, a grin grew on your face as his cum trickled out of you.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Discovers He Has A Daddy Kink | Shoto x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Pro Hero Shoto Torodoki x Reader 💋

Summary: Shoto is your Pro-Hero boyfriend coming home late from patrol. He finds you up to no good 😉 and decides to join you. In the heat of the moment, you call him "Daddy" and he goes absolutely feral. All characters are consenting adults in their late twenties. A hot, unedited one shot.

Genre: Smut, Romance, S*xual Tension

CW: MDNI!, A18+, Daddy Kink, Rough Sex, Femme Reader, AFAB Reader, Unprotected Sex

💕Link to My Master List 💕

Neither of you see it coming when you say it for the first time. You didn’t plan on saying it, and there’s no way in hell that you could have anticipated Shoto’s reaction to the word.

It’s a Thursday night and Shoto got back later than expected from patrol.  It’s been a long week and you could really use a goddamn fucking orgasm to put you to sleep, so when it becomes clear your boyfriend isn’t going to be home on time, you start touching yourself in bed. You’re so in the zone you don’t hear the door open and shut when he arrives home, exhausted and sweaty from a long night out with his sidekicks.

He leaves his dirty hero costume at the door and stumbles into the bedroom in his underwear – tight black boxers that are a size too small. Shoto never learned how to shop for himself, and you’ve been slowly helping him build a wardrobe that compliments him.

He arrives in the doorway of your shared bedroom and sees you face down in his pillow, grinding into your fingers as you slowly pleasure yourself over your soft pajamas. His impassive expression quirks into a smile as he watches you squirm and shift your hips to get a better angle. He lets himself enjoy the view for a few moments, shedding his boxers as he feels his cock start to stiffen. He reaches down to stroke at himself, reveling in the way he gets turned on just looking at you. You’ve been together for 2 years and he still can get off to just the thought of you. He works at his dick for a few minutes, getting himself nice and hard as you continue to obliviously masturbate on the bed.

Finally, he can’t take it anymore. He needs to feel you. He approaches the bed quietly, then says in his authoritative Pro Hero voice “Stop what you’re doing, and stay where you are.”

You freeze, momentarily scared shitless. Your ass is in the air and your face doesn’t leave the pillow as you call out: “Shoto? You’re home?”

“I just got off patrol. Looks like someone couldn’t stand waiting for me.” He says softly, climbing on the bed and positioning himself behind you. “Looks like you got yourself all pretty and ready for my cock.” He reaches up and pulls your sweatpants down, revealing your ass. He slips the fabric down a few more inches until you feel the cool air conditioning hit your pussy. You shiver and Shoto smiles as he reaches down to caress your pussy with calloused, capable fingers.

You hiss in satisfaction when he slips a finger inside you, rocking it in an attempt to hit your G spot. The angle is no good, and you push backwards into him, craving more attention. You assume that he’ll finger you and then use his mouth like he usually does – so you’re surprised when he quickly removes his finger and shifts to replace it with his thick cock. His hard member slides easily inside of you, but you still cry out at the unexpected intrusion.

“Did you miss me, sweetheart?” He asks breathlessly as he begins to move, thrusting into you at an even pace. You groan in reply, happy to be full of his rock hard cock. He slides in and out of you leisurely, enjoying the way your pussy wraps around him so invitingly. “Fuck. I didn’t realize how badly I needed this.” He grabs your hips for leverage, slowly picking up the pace. You moan as he hits your core just right.

“I feel bad that you had to wait so long.” He says apologetically. “You know I’ll always take care of my sweet girl.” He thrusts a bit harder and you whimper as you build towards your orgasm, molten lava pooling in your core. “Is this what you wanted baby?”

His cock is stretching you out so good, treating you so well. You can’t even think straight. The words tumble from your lips before you have time to wrap your brain around them.

“Yes, daddy.”

Shoto’s hips stutter to a stop and you wine at the loss of action.

“What did you just call me?” He says, sounding confused. You double down, hoping to spur him to return to thrusting. You need him so badly, you’ll do anything to get him moving again.

“Daddy.”

“Fuck.” Some kind of switch slips in Shoto’s brain and he beings pounding into you, frenzied. His grip on your hips tightens and is almost bruising. He guides your bodies together again and again, chasing his high. You feel his hard cock slide in as deep as he can manage, kissing your cervix with a prevision that only a Pro Hero can manage.

“Oh, Shoto yes!” Is all you can manage to say as he pounds you into the mattress doggy style, all of his energy concentrated on absolutely railing your pussy.

You’re so close to cumming, your orgasm building and tantalizing you – just a few strokes of Shoto’s dick away. Your eyes slip closed as you enjoy the insane motion of Shoto’s hips. You’re absolutely cock drunk and drooling into the pillow.

“Shoto, I’m gonna - ” But just as your pleasure starts to crest, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your back. “Wha -?” He raises your hips and tosses your legs over his shoulders. His heterochromiatic eyes are blazing as he looks down at you, his bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat. He guides his cock back towards your entrance, rubbing his head against your clit for good measure before sliding back inside you. This new angle is absolutely heavenly – typically, Shoto likes to fuck slow and sweet. This aggression is a real treat. He does all the work, slowly fucking into you until he picks back up to his previous unbelievable pace. His pro hero body has so much stamina, you know that he can keep this up all night if need be. Your pussy flutters with the notion, your breath coming out in hot pants.

Shoto locks eyes with you and growls out “Say it again.”

Your eye lids are drooping as you focus on the smooth slide of his cock in and out of you. “Say what?” You moan out, enjoying the way your legs bounce on his muscular shoulders as he pistons into you. He slides a hand down from your hips and delivers a swift smack to your ass. Your eyes widen at the contact.

“Say. It. Again.” Your brain scrambles and searches for the words he wants to hear. With a start you put the pieces together.

“Fuck me harder – daddy.”

Shoto groans and shifts forward to rest his face in the crook of your neck, the change in position nearly bending you in two. You say a silent prayer to your yoga instructor and breathe into the new position. You cry out in pleasure as Shoto’s cock hits your G spot with shocking precision in the new angle. Your pussy squeezes around him and he’s in absolute heaven as he kisses desperately at your neck. He reaches down to deliver another sharp smack to your ass cheek and the mixture of pain and pleasure pushes you over the edge.

“Shoto, baby, I’m cumming. I-I’m cumming. Oh my God.” You feel the orgasm hit you in waves, your body shaking as you cum around your boyfriend’s perfect cock. The shockwaves of muscle spasms in your pussy pushes Shoto over the edge, too. You feel his cock twitch deep inside you before he cums, shooting ropes of ejaculate into your sweet core. As you ride out your orgasm, your pussy milks Shoto for all he’s worth and he groans out your name, unbelieving that sex can feel this good, this insane. He thrusts into you until your both over stimulated, groaning from the contact.

When you’re done, he pulls himself up a bit so that you’re in a more comfortable, less-foldy position, but he stays inside you for a few minutes as you both catch your breath. Beads of sweat slide down your joined bodies like raindrops, and you long for both sleep and a shower. You’re not sure if you’ll manage the latter.

Finally, breathing heavily, Shoto pulls out of you. He watches as his cum drips down your sticky thighs and pools on the duvet. He reaches out a finger to trace along the slit of your pussy, dipping into your sticky center in wonder. You shiver, over stimulated, and swat his hand away from your still-pulsing core. You’re on birth control, of course – but you and Shoto are usually so careful to use condoms. Shoto’s complicated history with his family makes him wary of fatherhood, and you both usually take every precaution possible when it comes to sex.

“I…I don’t know what came over me.” He says, shaking his head as he reaches to help you sit up. He uses a thumb to smooth sweat off your brow and tuck your hair behind your ears. “Was that too much, love? I’m so sorry if I took things too far.”

You shake your head, breathless. “Shoto that was…that was incredible.” You grin stupidly up at him, head foggy from your orgasm. “…I guess you have a daddy kink?”

He gives you a funny look. “I’m going to need to talk about this in therapy. This is clearly me dealing with my fucked up father issues in a new weird way.”

“…or….” You say optimistically, sensing that Shoto is about to shut down the way he does when his family comes up in conversation. “Orrrr you have a fun new kink for us to explore! Don’t overthink it, babe. At least not tonight. You must be exhausted.” You reach out and take one of his hands in yours, massaging up his wrist where you know he often aches from using his ice quirk. You pull him into a chaste kiss. He leans into the touch, grateful.

“There will be plenty of time for processing. But for now, let’s cleanup and go to bed.” You whisper, your foreheads touching.

“You’re right.” He says, scooting off the bed and getting to his feet. “What do you want – a washcloth and a water bottle?”

“Please.” You say, laying back on the pillow and stretching out your legs. Shoto comes back a minute later with both items.

“There is one thing I definitely want to do again.” Shoto says, his face burning a bit red as he watches you wipe yourself down with the cloth.

“What’s that sweetheart?” You ask him, curious.

“Can I spank you more often?” He sheepishly grins, his eyes darting down to take in the bright red spot he’s left on your ass cheek.

“Anytime, Shoto.” You laugh as you let him pull you to your feet and towards the bathroom for a shower. It’s late, and there’s plenty of time to discuss things in the morning over coffee and pancakes. All is well.

[0bticeo]

lurk | feyd-rautha

part one of five. (part 2.) (part 3.) (part 4.)

summary:

feyd-rautha. 

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

it is kill or be killed, and you intend to live.

wc: 2k

tw: blood. death. non graphic description of gore (this is a gladiator fight). mentions of eugenics. fighting as foreplay. reader may or may not have a blood kink. knife kink??? reader is more refined than feyd but don't let it fool you she's a freak. uuuh hubris? probable inaccurate handling of dune lore, esp with the voice (forgive me for the creative liberty of assuming the mother of the kwisatz haderach should be a freak. as a treat.)

many, many years ago, the sisterhood deems you ready for the gom jabbar. you enter the room, your mother a looming shadow, hands folded in her sleeves, head bowed before a long figure cloaked in shadows.

it doesn’t sit right with you, this intrusion in your mother’s parlor. how dare that old witch make a servant out of your mother in her own house?

“kneel.”

you do. you fall to your knees. before you, a phalto green box. in it, pain. at your neck, the gom jabbar, its deadly poison whispering into your ear.

it tells you about sweet, sweet little death. it tells you the reverend mother will not put your life in danger. not when you’re the culmination of nineteen generations of careful planning.

you are to be married to a harkonnen and bear the kwisatz haderach.

so you raise your head and put your hand in the box, eyes boring into the old crone’s. you see something flash in her depthless eyes. you think of the calm before mother-storms, the stillness of the air before pounding rain. 

it’s rage.

pain shoots through your hand. fire that burns and charrs and eats away at your flesh, consuming one layer of skin after another until you’re sure it reaches the bone below. you almost scream. instead, you bite your lip until metal-blood stains your tongue. 

you will endure this pain. you will not let fear consume you — you have nothing to fear, you shall not die, not here. fear is the mind killer. pain is the mind killer. you will let it wash over you and face the eons of bene gesserit knowledge standing before you.

through gritted teeth, you ask:

“am i human enough, oh wise one?”

you were. otherwise you wouldn’t be here, years later, rotting in a harkonnen cell. 

(there are things that have been kept a secret from you. you have been raised following your mother’s footsteps in the weirding way. the reverend mother denied you a place under her tutelage with harsh words and a harsher look. you’ve caught wind of her thoughts in shimmering fragments of dreams — what has jessica done?)

it will matter, in the end, that your mother decided to give your father a son. already, you’ve seen it, behind the web of your eyelids, the lone silhouette of your brother, blood of your blood, rising, rising.

he will gather them, the fremen, from the burning sands of arrakis, and rise, blade glinting under scorching sun. lisan al gaib, they already call him, hushed whispers lost in the shifting sands of dunes. 

your hand falls to your womb, empty still. 

they were scared, the bene gesserit. the atreides line was growing too powerful, too fast. you — the promised daughter, skilled in the way, with tongue and mind sharper than your blade — are to be bred and deliver the one.

but in came paul — beloved little mouse of a younger brother. too smart, too observant, too skilled, too much. your mother’s defiance, your mother’s love for your father led her to commit the unthinkable and defy the order.

it retaliated.

you’ve been betrayed. that, you’ve seen coming. so did your father. so did your mother. even your brother felt it, in his very bones, the low thrum of wrongness. something was bound to happen. something was bound to shake you to your very core. 

something happened.

the harkonnens came. house atreides fell. you can still smell it, the stench of death, the bloodied sands beneath your feet as you struck and struck.

all must die, and so they did.

you feel it still, the blood coating your hands, your forearms, dripping from your blade, the old scar on your forearm burning righteous fury. 

they caught you, in the end. you, who willingly put a target on your back, allowing your brother and mother’s quiet escape. you, beaten down, bloodied. grinning, voice warping the harkonnen rats’ perception.

“you will not see me as i am.”

the atreides have been set up. offering arrakis has been nothing but a convenient way for the emperor to get rid of your bloodline.

you scoff; in the quiet depths of your cell, your fingers dig crescent moons in your palms.

you’ve been taught to read behind veils upon veils of lies. the truthsayer suggested the eradication of your house. painted you a threat.

being able to breed the kwisatz haderach won’t protect you.

so here you are, eldest daughter of duke leto atreides and lady jessica, older sister to paul atreides. here you are, sitting with your back pressed up against the wall. cold seeps into your marrow, reaching bone. rage simmers low in your gut. you quell it. nurse it until it becomes a living beast eager to feast.

you will need it.

your body fails you. your sight is blurry, your hands tremble. they should not. duncan would have hit the back of your head had he been there. he isn’t. (dead.) breathe in. breathe out. focus what’s left of your attention on the too small bowl of food that’s been given to you, on the glass of water. empty, both of them. 

poison isn’t a problem — not with your training, not with the constant shifting and turning of lethal molecules within you. there. prana bindu — precise alteration of the body’s vitals. you will bear your condition for a time, weakened, but alive.

you clench your fist and slam it against the wall. pain surges through you, burning through your joint. good. if fear is the mind killer, pain clears the fog clogging your brain.

here goes: you’re rotting in the cell of your hereditary enemy, malnourished and poisoned. you’ve heard the guards, their off handed comments when they thought you too drugged to understand. your cell is below an arena. you will need to fight. perhaps, they’ll pit you against your men. the atreides house, dying by its own hand. fitting. 

you’re neck-deep in trouble.

the door slides open. two guards come in, all dressed in black. harkonnens. harkonnens everywhere, and you cannot do a damned thing as they pull you up, pushing you out of your cell. they’re laughing. those bastards are laughing.

one less atreides scum in the known universe — good riddance!

you will tear into them and rip out their spine with your teeth.

they drag you in a maze of hallways, each darker than the last. you’re ascending, a catabasis of twists and turns and sliding doors. there’s a low thrum in your gut. louder and louder with each step is a pulse. a chant. a name. 

the guards press a blade in your hand and push you forward.

the door slides up. shadows part. you blink with a low hiss. light pours down on you, all-consuming, blinding. sands stretch before you, unnaturally white.

the arena.

thousands upon thousands of people gaze down at you. the voice surges forward, eons of your foremother speaking through you.

“you will not perceive me as i am.”

something trickles down your nose. blood. you’ve overdone it. the voice isn’t meant to be used against that many people, not for long.

you wipe it off.

it will have to hold for the time of this fight. the harkonnen won’t rest until the atreides are completely and utterly wiped out. deceit is your only chance at survival.

the thought makes your blood boil. 

good thing the crowd is screaming for it. they're all screaming for it. a pulse. a chant. a name.

feyd-rautha. 

there he is, strong arms spread wide, dual blades stained black, basking in the glorious aftermath of combat. at his feet, atreides soldiers. dead.

you unsheathe your blade, the dull metal grinding against its sheath.

the noise alone has him turning towards you, head tilting to the side. he’s assessing you, na-baron feyd-rautha harkonnen. he glances up. for a split second, you follow his gaze. above, looking down upon you, is baron vladimir harkonnen, gargantuan mass of flesh.

you want him to collapse. to watch as his bones break under the weight of monstrous grease. you make out the movement of his lips.

happy birthday, nephew.

he’s on you before you can react. your blade raises. steel meets steel. you clench your teeth. his strength surpasses yours. you won’t yield, not to him. but by god is the bastard strong. you’ve got your hands full with just parrying his blows, the force of them echoing in your very bones. your feet slide on the sand below. any more and you’ll lose your footing.

his blades meet yours, again and again, their serrated edge slicing the corrupt air of the arena. they slice through you, too. a vicious cut on your bare forearm has you reeling back, your blade and sheath raising to parry.

this is bad. there’s only so much you can deal with in your decrepit state. fighting to survive isn’t an option — you must kill or be killed.

.

.

.

you draw in a sharp breath.  

watchful eyes bore down upon you. bene gesserit. the reverend mother herself has come to geidi prime.

something at your side — you let your guard down. there’s a flash, a metallic clang. feyd-rautha gazes down upon you, apex predator with your death written in the greedy sands of the arena. here, you’re precious prey. 

rage grips you by the throat and has you baring your teeth.

there you are, blades intertwined with harkonnen scum, a breath away from his lips. they part in a slow, assessing grin. you feel more than you see his appraising gaze raking over you. you, unyielding, matching him blow for blow, blood drip drip dripping down. under the black sun of geidi prime, it, too, has turned a velvety black.

from above your crossed blades, you raise your head and meet his eyes — twin pools of dark, abysses made to consume you whole. time slows down. you want to drown in the marrow of him and feel the warmth of his flesh beneath yours, lost in rapturous agony. something settles in your gut, low and warm.

you call it fury.

you pivot out of the way and nick him, a thin cut splitting open the skin of his cheek. he laughs. slashes at you with deathly precision. you duck, squatting down, leg springing forth, slamming at the back of his knee. he falls. catches you by the ankle and drags you to him.

you snarl. 

“let go.”

how utterly pathetic of you. his grip falters. you hear his blades fall to the ground. you twist, pivot until you’re straddling him, blade pressed against his throat.

there you have it. internal carotid, right below the sculpted edge of his jaw. five minutes until death. five minutes, with his lifeblood coating your hands, soaking your robes, sinking down to your skin beneath.

your hand cramps on the handle of your weapon, in a mockery of rigor mortis. nervous impulse. the tip of the blade pierces tender flesh, drawing a droplet of blood. you follow its path down the column of his flesh, until it reaches the edge of his collarbone.

his hands surges forward, seizing your forearm in a vice grip, yanking you towards him. you feel his breath on your lips with his next words.

“do it.”

his voice sends a shiver down your spine. low, gravelly, it calls for blood. if you don’t spill his, yours will be drawn. yet, you do not move, eyes riveted to his face, to the vicious impatience carved in his features. if you kill him, you’ll be hunted and put down like a dog. 

he shifts under you, the nervous twitch of a beast untamed. even through the hard edges of his ritual armor, you can feel the raw power of him.

you feel his thumb trace the edge of an old scar, up, up your forearm, a flash of black teeth and then— 

pain.

there’s something in your side, serrated, razor-sharp, twisting. your hand raises to your side. warmth trickles down your fingers. his hand wraps over yours, warm, blood a silky black against the porcelain of his skin.

he watches you, twisting the blade until yours fall to the ground, bloodied hand coming up to your cheek. you lean into it. welcome him, as his thumb smears blood across the edge of your parted lips.

“you fought well, atreides.” 

he pulls out the blade.

you fall.

taglist: @kpopnstarwars @jaiuneamesolitaiire

[mooniety]

susie become egg. wonder what the yolk is made out of.

anyways, guys look it's mechanized susie "The Secretary"!!!!!!!!!!

CONTENT WARNING: Below the cut is a description of her which contains body horror & minor mentions of gore.

after kirby fails to defeat star dream, star dream decides to immediately mechanize susie before she can escape, recognizing that without her direction, it won't be able to successfully achieve its goal in creating what it deems the perfect universe

thus susie--or i should say, what remains of her--is now confined in a body that lacks any & all autonomy besides being able to still somewhat if barely move, the ability to see, hear, & speak (as seen by the lens & mic/speaker right below her head where her neck is), can call for mecha knight (who has been unfortunately remechanized) as her only form of protection, & can do...whatever the bottom right hand corner is.

this new body is designed to have her "eyes" appear permanently closed, showcasing her involuntary submission to star dream & in a way, loss of all mortal sight, trading it in for the possession of knowledge that she shouldn't have had in the first place as well as now see the entire universe...'s destruction first hand‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯🔥🔥🔥

but most importantly of all, she has CAT EARS‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ (they were supposed to be alarm clock ears but the intrusive thoughts won 😭) don't worry though, as you can see on the bottom right, she can...remove them :)

despite being able to open her head to reveal her core (as shown in bottom right), the process is SLOW & EXTREMELY PAINFUL with no sense of relief until star dream puts her core into a new body or someone destroys it. while she's in this vulnerable state, her body is set to automatically cry to draw in sympathy as a last ditch effort from star dream if all else fails

her core was designed to look like a cartridge from made in abyss duct taped onto an iv drip stand, & if you know what a cartridge from made in abyss is then you already know what's inside: it's where all her main or i should say remaining organs are located.

furthermore, it's near impossible for someone else to crack her open due to her body being entirely being made out of haltonium--intentionally designed to be an indestructible cage for her

& if susie, star dream, or mk senses that someone's going to attempt to destroy her, mk is obligated to prevent that from happening via fighting & executing them, even if he doesn't want to (& clearly, susie doesn't want him to do so either)

the reason why she has no one (not even the haltworkers) besides mk & maybe star dream as a form of protection is because she's typically locked her away in a hidden area of the access ark, the idea was to make her a princess locked away in a tower with no one but her noble knight in shining armor to "protect" her --unfortunately it seems that this knight is technically also on the side of her captor lol

anyways this entire thing is about how susie isn't really vibing with existence now that her father's dead, she's been turned into a useless machine stripped of all autonomy whose only purpose is to peer edit & approve plans of destroying the world as well as unconsensually watch & partake in the entire destruction of the universe until something is able to confront this monster of a supercomputer YAHOOOOOOOO‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💯💯💯💯💯💯💯

[razildor]

WIP Wednesday (It's Thursday)

Was tagged by the lovely @aldisobey Thanks!

I won't tag anyone for this since I think almost everyone I would tag has already done it, but if not go for it!

I've not gotten overly far with this one since it was just a silly little idea ( it's smut what a surprise) on Taash's comment of almost calling Emmrich a skullfucker, so no idea if I'll ever finish this one.

Skull-liker

"And I'm sorry for calling you a Skullfu- liker.... Skull-liker." Taash quickly corrected themselves before leaving with a wave at Rook.

Rook couldn't help but laugh a little at the name, turning to Emmrich with a smirk. "Skull-liker? I didn't know the Watchers had that title."

"Darling, please. You know the Watchers have no such title." A deep sigh leaves Emmrich as he turns to lean against his desk, looking over at Rook who slowly comes a little closer, a smirk on her face that he knows all too well..

"Nooo?" A teasing tone that has Emmrich narrowing his eyes.

"Rook if you say-"

"You're saying there's a title called Skullfucker instead?"

"Rook!"

A warm laugh leaves Rook the smirk still there. "Alright, alright. So there's no high ranking title for such a thing... I really thought you would have such a title."

"I-You thought- Rook! What would give you such a vulgar thought! You know we-"

"You could do it to me."

"Rook! The mouth on you!" A tut leaves Emmrich as he pushes himself from the desk, making his way towards one of his many bookcases, letting his eyes scan the spines picking one out as he tries to bury the thoughts of doing such things to Rook.

Yet the idea did... Appeal, he couldn't deny it, to have the younger kneeling at his feet, cock buried deep into the throat until Rook's eyes are watering from the intrusion, right to the base watching them struggling for a moment until used to the weight of his cock- No! No... He couldn't do such a thing but yet... 

Rook took the opportunity to slowly circle the mage once he stepped away from the bookcase, stopping to peek over his arm at the book, a moment of silence came over the pair, a silence Emmrich was thankfully for in the moment to let his mind and other parts of him calm down, as his shoulders slowly relax truly at peace that Rook has dropped the matter, yet they quickly stiffened at the words Rook spills out from her mouth..

"So you're saying you don't like the idea of your cock down my throat?" Emmrich felt the woman's breath near his ear. The grip on the book tightening to the point of his hands shaking, in some vague attempt to keep himself together.

"Or do you really want to put me in my place, Professor?"

Something snapped within Emmrich; his only warning to Rook was the book falling to the floor as he turned, a hand gripping the other's jaw tightly. A gasp leaves Rook

----

Rook moans as she tugs on the bindings of the sash, finding her was firmly bound in place by it, another moan couldn't help but escape her throat, tongue wetting dry lips, eyes peeking up at Emmrich.

"Hm, much better. That should keep your wandering hands to places they shouldn't."

"Emmrich, please-"

"Ah! Another word and I will leave you like this while I return to my work... A tempting idea comes to think of it." A devilish smile crosses the Necromancer's face in thought. Leaving the women tied, kneeling as he worked on some papers he couldn’t care about, hearing the small whimpers and hitched breaths as she begs Emmrich to touch her aching core, oh what a delightful thought indeed. 

Perhaps he'll have Rook to warm his cock from under the desk, or have her sit on one of the many toys Emmrich has hidden within his room, watching Rook squirm and moan trying to find some relief.

The thought made his cock twitch within his trousers... Perhaps next time.

[dalmoonflower]

gyuvin angry sex?? Or he jealous?? Something spicy!! Ur writing is fucking awesome 😈😈

GYUVIN AND JEALOUSY (SMUT)

he’s so annoyed right now.

gyuvin is definitely the jealous type. so when he saw you dancing with Ricky at the party, he lost all control.

“you’re not my boyfriend gyuvin, I don’t understand why you’re so jealous. It’s just Ricky.”

now, he’s pissed off.

“not your boyfriend? really y/n?”

he takes two large steps, now looming over you with your back pressed against the wall. you look up at his eyes and you’ve never seen him seething with so much anger.

“since I’m ‘not your boyfriend’ I suppose I’m not obligated to fuck you everytime you call me to come over” he says with so much venom in his voice, whispering dangerously low in your ear.

“let me remind you whose name you call out every night hmm? it seems like you’re forgetting how drunk you get off my cock, princess” his breath is hot, and it leaves goosebumps all over your body.

it’s a little scary how much this version of gyuvin turns you on.

the next thing you know, you’re being pushed into the nearest bedroom, falling limp on the bed as gyuvin hungrily eyes you up and down.

“take your clothes off, pretty. Or would you prefer me to rip it off for you?”. your hands get to work, in excitement and fear to see this side of gyuvin - who is usually so sweet and needy.

“All fours. Now.” He commands.

He wastes no time shoving one finger up your hole, smirking to himself about how wet you are. “just like I thought, all wet just for me.” He rubs your clit twice and your mind goes numb as he violently thrusts his cock into you. the intrusion shocking as it is pleasurable. he fucks into you senseless, losing rhythm and chasing speed - your brain goes numb and you can feel yourself drool a little bit face down on the sheets.

“Mmmgh gyu, I’m gonna cum” you croak out

Your brain blacks out as your body convulses. electricity running through your core, leaving your knees shaking as you struggle to hold yourself up on all fours. Gyuvin chases his high, thrusting two or three more times until you feel his weight collapse on you.

“You good, baby?” he pants, flipping you over so he can wipe the drool off your face.

“I’m good….boyfriend” you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer to you. He stumbles forward straight to your lips and you can feel his smile.

“Glad we set the record straight” he says before kissing you deeply.

—-

A/n: why did that turn cute at the end omg. Maybe I’m incapable of writing mean jealous gyuvin omg he’s so sweetie pie in my eyes

[chaoticgoblindev]

The Hat Rule

Pairing: Cowboy!Ghost x Fem!Reader

Pronouns used: She/Her

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, smut, cowboy hat rule, acquaintances to lovers, p in v, cussing, unprotected!sex, cowboy au, very self-indulgent heheh.

Summary: Visiting your Grandparent's farm leads to an honest mistake with the hot cowboy that worked there. 

Oftentimes you would visit your grandparents on their farm out in the country. Not out of the kindness of your heart, not because you missed them truly and loved them, but because of a certain cowboy who took care of the ranch. 

His name was ‘Ghost’, at least around the ranch it was, his real name was Simon. And oh boy was he intoxicating, plain and simple. Something about his brooding and seriousness had a certain weight on you that seeped straight to your core. He was the one thing exciting about the valley your Grandfather’s ranch resided in, kept things lively, and kept you coming back. Though these feelings festered not much was exchanged between the two of you. It was a crush, even when you desired more.

Upon a late afternoon, you found yourself on the porch of the ranch house, enjoying the sunset and breeze and taking in the beauty of the land. The mountains surrounding the valley gave a feeling of peaceful isolation like you were separated from the stress of the world. You closed your eyes to enjoy the moment when you heard a familiar voice call out to you. “Enjoying some fresh air, city girl?” Ghost chuckled, not that he needed to, you could just hear his smirk in the baritone levels of his voice.

Gazing up at Ghost, you saw him leaning against one of the beams that supported the porch with his arms crossed. His dark blue button-up was rolled to his elbows which exposed muscled forearms and a sleeve tattoo on his left arm. God. Was he TRYING to give you a heart attack? “Oh 'cause we don’t get enough in the suburbs right?” You smirked, enjoying the start of some usual casual banner. “I’ll have you know the 'fresh air’ here smells like cow shit.” 

Ghost’s eyes crinkled and chuckled slowly, “You got me there. Yet you keep coming back, must love it then?” His eyes flickered with a curious emotion you hadn’t seen before.

When your eyes widened at being put on the spot, you felt like you made a mistake, like you accidentally revealed all your secrets. Quickly your face reverted into an appeasing smile, “Got me there. I just love it here.”

Ghost hummed as he pushed off the beam and kicked at the dirt with the heel of his boot. He looked out the horizon like he was scanning the land before he spoke once more. 

“Got to get back to work, you’d best head inside when it gets dark. Coyotes like to linger ‘ere.” He huffed while glancing back down to you. You couldn’t help but get the feeling he was disappointed with something you said, which was unbearable alone in itself but the fact he gave you a curfew felt like he saw you as just his boss’s grandkid. “Wow, you’re giving me a curfew now, are you? Should I start calling you Daddy too?” The minute the words left your mouth you widened your eyes and dutifully slapped your mouth before staring up at him. Sometimes your intrusive thoughts won, and sometimes you wanted to jump the nearest bridge. “I- I didn't mean to say that.”

Ghost cut you off with a deep laugh, it sounded like heaven to you, “Fucking hell, kid. Yeah yeah sure, call me what you want, now go get your pretty ass inside and eat all your greens too.” He gave you a once over as you rushed inside with a reddened face, his eyes lingering on your ass and the jeans that clung to your curves in every right way. The front door shut and you disappeared from his sight. “Fucking hell doll..” He groaned.

_____

That night you lay in your bed with your face in the pillow, groaning with embarrassment. Ghost called you kid! How patronizing was that? Not only that but your loose lips ran you into the third most embarrassing event in your life.

Yet another thought lingered. He called you pretty, didn't he? He also didn’t seem put off by the comment so maybe…

Your thoughts led your mind into the dark depths of your imagination, your name on his lips, teeth nibbling at your skin, him and his body pressing down on you. Into you. Your hand trailed down your abdomen and past the hem of your panties as your mind wandered. Rubbing the already slick folds between your thighs you imagined his tongue trailing over your curves. How his hand would grab onto your ass, maybe even slap it. Would he be rough like you dreamed? Gentle? You let out a sigh as your fingers slide into your pussy and slowly pump in and out. It wasn’t enough anymore, the need and desire building more as you kept your whimpers silenced, aware of the way the old walls could echo in weird ways. The last thing you needed was your Grandparents hearing you getting off by imagining their ranch hand. Biting back an annoyed sigh, you glide your hands out of your core. It just wasn’t enough. You wanted him.

Finally, enough was enough, tomorrow you decided to make a move on him.

_______

By the grace of the universe, your Grandpa asked you to deliver a saddle that was shipped to the house and not the bunkhouse. It was a perfect opportunity. Now if your anxiety could just go along with the plan then it’d be great.

Luckily you didn't have to carry the hefty saddle down to the bunkhouse and were given the keys to the golf cart. The drive did little to ease your mind, the wind rolling along the tall grass and livestock chittering in the distance added noise to that busy mind of yours. The bunkhouse itself was built like a nice cabin, sizable enough to host a large group of people and close enough to the pastures for convenience. The neighs of horses nickering in the nearby stables covered the footsteps of someone approaching you.

“That the saddle your folks ordered?” Ghost asked, making you gasp and nearly drop the leather item from your hands but he reached around and grabbed it to keep it from falling. 

“Fuck you scared the shit outta me!” You grumbled while casting him a glare over your shoulder. He smirked and tipped his hat to you which somehow just annoyed you more. Your hand reached up and yanked the cowboy hat from his head with a huff, as you put it on you took another look at the saddle. “Yeah that’s it, it’s pretty hefty, glad I got the golf cart, otherwise carrying it down would’ve been a pain.” You sighed and turned your body to Ghost.

The intensity of his gaze startled you, had you done something wrong? Did you say something offensive? “What’s wrong?” Your voice came out in a hushed tone, nervous as to what he would say.

He smirked, shaking his head and taking a step closer to you which made you take an initial step back into the golf cart. His grip on the saddle loosened until it flopped onto the seat again.

“The hat,” Ghost started with a purr, placing his hands on the top of the golf cart and looking into your eyes, “you’re a clever minx aren’t you…”

Was this all about the hat? Maybe it was special to him, otherwise what the fuck was he talking about?

“Oh I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.” You began to lift the hat from your head when his hand caught your wrist.

“Do you know the rule about those there hats? About taking one from a cowboy and wearing it?” The husky accented drawl of his voice set your skin on fire and your eyes drifted to his lips then to his eyes.

“No… I don’t. what did I do wrong?” You couldn’t help but frown, assuming you might’ve broken some sacred cowboy superstition.

“Take the hat… means you gotta ride,” Ghost held your chin and pulled you close,  “And it doesn’t require a saddle or reins… just me.” He tilted his head and watched your expression carefully for any resistance or disgust.

“WHAT!? I didn’t know that though!” A blush captured your cheeks as you covered your face. You did know yet happened to forget, you heard rumors about it when your friends were joking about a cute country guy on a night out. 

Ghost seemed pleased with your response and pulled you away from the cart. “Well, it’s too late now, little lady.” He mused, his smile turning sly as he tossed you over his shoulder. “You gotta play by the rules like a good girl.” He laughed while taking you in the direction of the barn.

“Ghost- wait! Hey, put me down!” You thumped your fist into his back, you could feel your face flushed with embarrassment and hoped that no one could see y’all. Ghost continued to carry you, smirking when you lightly punched his back and delivered a slap to your ass in return.

“You have on the hat and now you must pay the price.” He taunted, walking towards the inside of the barn and kicking the door shut behind him. 

The cowboy placed you down in the middle of the barn, the two of you alone. “You get a free ride... literally.” Ghost added, leaning against a wooden beam and crossing his arms. His gaze never strayed from your lips as they parted to form a sentence. The embarrassment took away your voice and as you tried to form words, you took the time to scan the surroundings of the cruddy barn filled with grain and hay bales. It wasn’t much of a secret around the ranch that you had a crush on Ghost, no matter how good you thought you hid it. 

Rolling his shoulders back, he studied your form, a smirk tugging on his lips as he took a few steps towards you. He placed a gentle hand on your hip, his fingers squeezing your flesh as he looked down at you. “I know you have a big crush on me, sugar…” He whispered, his tone sending chills up your spine. “So, here’s your free ride…” Ghost cooed, his eyes glimmering as his other hand wrapped around the nape of your neck.

This was your chance, everything you wanted and more. Hell would freeze over before giving up an opportunity like this. So you leaned close, just to get a taste of him finally. Then he smiled and brought his hand away from your neck to cup your cheek and pulled you close until your lips came crashing together.

The yearning that was simmering in his soul was infecting, reaching to your heart and seeping into your core. He burned, in every way passion could burn, he searched your body like a temple of god, your lips his salvation. Ghost devoted his tongue to yours as he deepened the kiss, when he pulled away slightly his breath was labored. 

“You're the only thing on my mind recently...” He whispered.

The corners of your mouth skewed into a smile. “You’re the reason I keep coming back out here.” You admitted, licking your lips to taste the remnants of him.

Something about that answer made Ghost snap, he pulled you flush against him by your wrists as he kissed you once more. He licked your bottom lip before fully exploring your tongue with his. His hands squeezed your hips a final time before he lifted you and placed you on a sturdy barrel. Ghost stepped between your legs and parted them, one hand massaging your thigh softly while the other worked on unlatching his belt buckle.

“You want this? Wanted me so bad didn’t ya, sweet thing?” Ghost purred as he slowly began to inch his jeans down to reveal the hardened outline of his cock. It made you suck in a breath which caused him to chuckle. “You can take it, you're my sweet tough girl aren’t you?” He pecked your cheek with a soft kiss and finally let his jeans fall to his ankle.

“Ghost… please..” You breathed, peering up at him through your haze. Your core was weeping in want, just begging to be ravaged and filled. You pulled him tight against your body with your legs around his waist, the imprint of his dick grinding against the jeans you wore.

Ghost let out a groan and kissed you again, his body pressed against you some more while he fiddled with the buttons of your pants and tugged them down. He flashed his canines in his smile while gazing at you with a burning lust.  “I’ve been so damn eager for this, and I know you have too… the way you’ve been watching me, stalking me. Sweet girl… you think I didn’t notice?” He whispered and placed his hands on either side of your hips, his eyes baring down at you had an effect that made him feel imposing and larger than life. 

“Well, I certainly can tell you’re eager.” You teased him and rolled your hips against his just to feel the firm imprint of his dick begging to be freed. Ghost chuckled as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to the edge of the barrel.

"I'm glad you can feel that..." He whispered as his fingers hooked the belt loop of your jeans. "It's... been itching to get out." With one swift motion, he pushed your jeans down your legs before tossing them onto the barn floor. Ghost admired your body from where he stood, his hands rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. He loved how they smushed against the barrel and parted for him. His eyes looked over your body like a present as he slowly began to unbutton your blouse and fondle your curves. The shirt fell and bunched at your wrists and he couldn’t help but kiss you again. “God… you’re perfect.”

“Ghost…” You breathed and looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him a slight head tilt and smile. His eyes darkened and in a swift maneuver, he had sat on the barrel with you in his lap. You yelped and gripped the hat on your head with one hand, the other on his shoulder as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“I want you screaming my name. So call me Simon, baby… Now Ride,” Simon demanded.

“Say please.” You chided.

The man huffed but wrapped his arms around your waist and set his chin on your chest. “Please, babydoll?” He muttered gruffly.

Something about turning such a burly man into a stubborn pleading mess made you grin. “Lemme help you then…” you whispered into his ear, easing your hips and sliding your underwear to the side. From your vantage point, you could see the way his eyes fixed on your wet cunt and the way he licked his lips.

“Already so wet for me, aren’t ya?” Simon chuckled and rolled his boxers down until his cock sprung free.

“Already so hard for me, aren’t you?” You mimicked but were busy with gawking at his size. 

Fuck.

Simon’s smoky tone captured your attention once more. “It’ll be alright love, we can make it fit..” he coaxed, rubbing circles into your hips. “Just take it inch by inch, yeah?”

You gave him a slow nod and glanced down to align yourself to him, gliding him between your folds. With a sharp inhale you slowly began to sink into him. Biting your lip, you make eye contact with Simon who looks at you gently, letting you take your time. 

Just as a little more than the tip pushed in, a hushed moan came from Simon. Giving it a few more adjustments you soon hit the base of his cock and shivered at the feeling, a soft whine sounded from your throat as you winced at the stretch.

“Just give it a second, you’re doing so well.” He groaned, placing his hands on your waist to massage the skin gently. Simon slowly began to move his hips, pulling back small amounts before sliding fully in again. He waited as your expression began to shift into one with pleasure, your soft moans and the slick of your cunt being the only noise in the barn. “Yeah, there you go. Such a good girl.” He coaxed, slowly adding to the pace he set.

You moaned out his name and he gave a kiss to your cheek as he worked you open. While you got used to the feeling your hips slowly matched his. Simon let out a moan as your body began to grind against him, his fingers gripping onto your ass as you rode him. "Oh, god..."

His body tensed under yours as he held back strained moans, his fingertips dug into your thighs as he looked at you with complete lust and desire. placed a hand onto your chest and leaned up to your ear as he spoke.

"You're a natural, guess our lessons paid off… or maybe, you’re just a dirty girl.” His hand wrapped around your neck in a gentle yet firm caress, he pressed his thumb down along your throat just enough to get a depraved noise. “Which one is it, sweetheart?” 

“Fuck ‘round n find out,” You smirked and clamped down on him with a strangled moan, adding, “You taught me well. It’s about time I put my skill to something worthy.” 

Simon leaned his head back and closed his eyes as you began to grind your hips down onto him. You switched between fucking yourself on his cock and drawing circles with your movements. He thrusted into you now and then, as if reminding you that he was still in charge. 

“Shit baby… That’s it, just like that.” He groaned, jutting his hips up harshly which caused you to yelp and clench around him. With the way he started to get desperate, you could tell he was getting close. You threw your head back and whimpered as you rode his cock. The feeling was unlike anything felt before and it was like the deepest parts of your soul were being reached. Simon’s breathing grew heavy and his mouth hung open as he panted for air. His fingertips dug deeper into your thighs as his head leaned backward once more. He grunted as his body tensed up, and his other hand came to your cheek as his eyes closed. "Come on, baby..." He muttered to you, his breaths hitting against your neck.

Feeling your climax slowly build, you moved your hips at a faster pace. Simon held onto your waist, aiding you with his thrusts. You both closed your eyes as you kissed, syncing together to chase the other’s highs with passionate instinct. “Fuck. I am so close, Si.” You gasped, your eyes rolling back at the way he reached your cervix.

Simon let out a muffled moan as he felt you twitching around him, your cunt clenching tighter around him as the two of you kissed, his hand left your hip and he slowly let his it drift to your thigh, his fingertips digging into your soft skin with every thrust. He groaned and slammed his hips into you before cumming with you.

"I should have thought about the cowboy rule with you a long time ago..." He chuckled softly, still feeling the pleasure of you surrounding him. 

“I should’ve taken your damn hat a long time ago..” You mirrored with a soft laugh, hissing as a full-body spasm shot up your spine and clenched around him, overstimulated from the recent orgasm that made your brain go hazy. “Mmm... Did you cum inside?”

Ghost looked up at you with a smirk, his teeth slightly bared as he spoke to you. "I might have..." He chuckled softly. He trailed his hand up and down your waist leaning close so the two of you were close together, he whispered in your ear, "I might have..." He repeated himself once more, his voice a murmur which made his breath hot against your ear.

You nodded and leaned against him in a limp-like fashion, exhausted from the work done. Simon let out a small hum of pleasure as you leaned into him. He placed a hand on your cheek and pulled you toward him, your mouths meeting in another kiss. "I needed you.” He mumbled, his lips meeting yours once more in a deep kiss.

Between the sweet and deep kisses, you replied, “Mmm- we should do this often.”

"I like the sound of that..." Simon mumbled against your lips, his breaths hitting against your skin as he kissed you along your jaw. "Whenever you want it," He said to you softly, his fingers beginning to trail down your cheeks, "Just come find me anytime on the ranch.... I'll give you the best ride of your life..." He smirked, still holding onto you but slowly beginning to pull you off him.

You helped him with getting up, raising your hips, and blushing when you felt his cum drip out and down your thighs. Simon’s breath hitched as he saw the essence seep out of you, his gaze slowly drifting down to your body and taking in every inch of it. He smirked, his fingers trailing down your stomach to your thighs. He chuckled, "You're a mess, doll." He pulled up his cowboy jeans and took a deep breath.  "You need anything from me right now, Sweetheart?... Some water? A towel for your body?" He spoke to you softly as he looked at you.

You pressed your thighs together to stop the juices from seeping out of your cunt, bending forward to pick up your underwear and shimmy it on. “No I don’t need anything, I am fine thank you.” 

Ghost nodded, and with a deep breath, he put on his cowboy hat as he watched you bend down to pick your clothes up off the barn floor.  "I'll uh.... just wait outside and give you some time to yourself to clean up" He chuckled softly, looking away as he did so. He stepped outside the barn and leaned up against the side of the building, looking at a few horses as he sighed and closed his eyes.

After a few minutes, you joined him approaching him with a slight limp, and stood next to him, glancing at the scenery. Your appearance was fixed up though any mascara you had on previously was slightly smudged on the corners of the eyes. “That was nice.” you began.

Ghost looked over at you as you stood next to him. He smiled and looked back up at the horses as you spoke. "It was, yeah." He chuckled and turned around to look at you for a moment. "I'm glad you came to see me." He said to you, his tone a bit quieter and more serious than usual. Ghost looked down at the floor for a moment, his expression a bit more pensive than normal. "So... you want to... do that again... sometime?" He sighed and looked down at his boots, his face hidden by the cowboy hat. "No pressure, though. I won’t press for more if you don’t want that.”

You cut him off with a laugh shaking your head. “No, I want more!” You coughed and spoke a bit more calmly and casually. “I mean- I like you and uh.. it would be nice to stay close...”

Ghost met your eyes and smiled, pulling you into a hug. “Sure thing, baby.”

[psych0t1c-bread]

@howlsofbloodhounds here's the fanfic I promised! Sorry it took me so long lol (and sorry that it's so long in the first place. I meant for this to only be 5k but... judging by the fact that this ended up being 10k, that didn't quite happen, did it?)

@adler9944 because you wanted to read it as well!

Also, the first half of the chapter is a flashback that sets the tone for the story. You can skip it if you want, but I wouldn't suggest it.

I also posted this on Ao3. I hope you like it! Enjoy!

The Right Time and Place

(Cw: swearing, dissociation, self-deprication, mention of blood, PTSD nightmares/flashbacks, etc.)

5 months.

It had been 5 months since Color escaped the VOID. 5 months since Core found him, 5 months since he had been accepted into the Omega Timeline, 5 months since he began to get adjusted to life outside the VOID, and 3 months since he had been introduced to Delta.

Color had learned a lot from being with Delta, casually observing his friend's behaviors to mirror them. He still didn't quite know how to act now that he was out of the VOID. But life seemed a bit more normal now, much easier than it had been - much better.

He watched Delta's movements and attitude with utmost curiosity, unintentionally mirroring it all. He felt like he knew everything about his friend - his hand movements, his interests, where he worked, his attitude, his sarcasm and sass, his confidence, his knowledge.

Color felt like he knew everything about Delta.

It was about 10 pm as Color thought about this. His drifting, heavy eyes slowly began to close as he thought about it while drifting off into dream. And for once, his memory served him well - he remembered how they met almost perfectly...

[For the first two months, Color had stayed in the hospital while Core tried to find a suitable roommate for him, or at least one that would be willing to try.

Luckily, their newest tenant in the apartments a couple blocks from the hospital seemed up for the challenge.

When Core had first approached him with the idea of a roommate, Delta naturally asked who they were, why they were here. He was curious, but needed to make sure it'd be safe for him to room with this person.

Core couldn't tell him much - just that his supposed roommate had arrived two months ago, depressed and malnourished, from a dark VOID where he was held captive for around 20 years based on the doctor's observations.

They weren't able to tell him much more.

It took Delta all of 10 seconds to make his decision. Core offered him time, but before they could even finish their sentence, he had decided to accept this new person.

He asked if he could at least visit his new roommate in the hospital. Core explained that he was near catatonic, and wasn't used to people - but that the doctors would help his new roommate get adjusted by stopping by once a day. (Bit intrusive in Delta's opinion, but if all of what Core said was true, then it was incredibly necessary to have the doctors stop by.)

He gladly accepted.

Once Color had been discharged, Core took him to meet Delta if he was feeling well enough for it. And luckily, at that moment, he was.

Core led him to a peaceful park at dusk, not wanting Color to be overwhelmed by the sun and the busy lives of the people who lived here just yet.

After a short walk, they found Delta, who was sitting on a bench and patiently waiting to meet his roommate.

The two hit it off the bat immediately.

Well, Delta did, at least. At first, his bright orange eyes - a sign Color later learned that meant he was on guard, or that Beta was watching from inside - deeply intimidated Color, with their white dragon-like pupils unintentionally glaring down at him.

But once he saw Delta smile, and happily introduce himself and offer a handshake, Color couldn't help but relax. He was... charismatic, in his own special way.

Their clothes were covered in dirt and grime, having just been called after work. He barely had time to take his goggles and apron off before rushing to wherever Core needed him.

(Truthfully, they had been expecting a fight, but were nonetheless happy to meet someone new.)

And from what Color could hear, Delta had been taking up work at an engineering place of sorts - making new gadgets, weapons, safety items.

Needless to say, Delta's first introduction to Color wasn't him at his prettiest. (Not to say he'd look bad in his work clothes covered in dirt, though...)

Yet still, Color felt himself being drawn to them. Something about them - their voice, their appearance - made them enticing. And it didn't go unnoticed how the Bravery Soul inside of him felt suddenly at ease, watching the other still closely but much more relaxed. There was some sort of... attachment, on Delta that he could feel.

Something new. Something he hadn't experienced with any other Sans before.

It was overwhelming at first. Delta was very excited to meet someone new - he couldn't seem to stop talking, unable to stop asking all the questions that came to their mind as they lightly bounced on their feet. They had an almost childlike curiosity to them.

Core gently shut them down, being direct yet cautious. They knew Delta had no idea about Color's past, and was rightfully curious - a bit too curious, but innocent in his curiosities.

Unfortunately, Color did not take that well.

He was polite, at first. He was able to smile and force himself to keep calm. But the longer the noise carried on, the more questions Delta asked that he didn't want to answer, the brighter the lights around them seemed to get - it was all quickly too much.

But upon seeing the distressed and aggravated look in his new friend's eyes, Delta stopped. He froze momentarily, seeming deep in thought, silently wondering if he was being too much already.

To fix this, they whipped out their backpack, quickly unzipped the big pocket, and pulled out some headphones.

Without hesitating, he offered it to Color.

The other tried to deny his needs at first, not wanting to seem like a burden so early on - look at him, how selfish he is. Burdening a stranger on their first meeting. And he hasn't even made it back to the apartment yet, barely even spoken a word to this stranger! What if he was being rude? What if Delta didn't want to be his roommate anymore because of this? Was he going to be left alone again? Was it his fault? What if this was a trap? Was Delta tricking him to trap him and keep him here forever? What if he was? What if he wasn't? What if-

His breathing began to grow heavy as these thoughts filled his mind. The lights, the noise - it was all too much. The fire in their skull crackled, glowing brighter by the second as a sharp, violent pain overtook their skull.

Instinctively, Delta tried to gently touch Color's shoulder to get him to focus and take the headphones. They could see the pain in Color's grimace, and wanted to help.

Unfortunately, Color snapped.

He jumped back, almost screaming at Delta to get away, making the other flinch and take a quick step back.

Before he could even process what was going on, Color had sunk to his knees as he trembled, violently restraining his sobs as his thoughts and pain overtook him. He frantically tried to cover his broken skull with his hood, desperately trying to block out all the lights around.

Silently, after he overcame the shock, Delta quietly began to analyze him. The Bravery Soul inside him demanded an answer for the outburst, but Delta didn't have one - that was, until, he heard faint sobs from the other.

He came to the quick conclusion that Color wasn't mad at them. He was mad at the world - for reasons unknown to Delta, obviously. He had only been told bits and pieces of vital information when Core had first approached him about it - he always needed to know what he was getting himself into before deciding something major.

Core glanced almost nervously at Delta. They knew his demeanor quite well - and they knew that if such kindness was rejected so harshly, it could get an even harsher reaction out of the hot-head. His silence was a bit unnerving.

But instead of growing irritated or aggressive, Delta opted for comfort. As much as people may know him for his his brash attitude and doubt that much good can come out of it, he knows when the right time for a fight is - and now is not that time. He wasn't gonna just start fighting someone who so obviously needed help! (Maybe not his help specifically, but it didn't look like anyone else besides from Core was gonna be of much use, so why not do what he can?)

Needless to say, both were surprised when Delta gently and cautiously crouched down in front of Color - still keeping his distance - and quietly called out to him.

Color managed to force himself to peek up from his hood, to see Delta sitting down and smiling a bit sadly at him, empathy glistening in his eyes.

Delta began to sign to him, unsure if it would work or if Color even knew sign language, but he knew that he shouldn't speak more to aggravate the other further. He kept his body a bit closer to the ground, not wanting to make Color look up in the light any more than he had to.

Cautiously, Delta offered to take Color somewhere quieter and safer. He mentioned that there was a library they could go to, it had a sensory room with blackout curtains if he needed a nap, and a Cafe in case he needed a drink or caffeine.

Color froze at the options. What was all of this that he was speaking of? A Cafe? Library? He didn't remember those words anymore. Stars, he could have sworn he heard about them in his dreams.

Was this all a dream, then? Was any of this real? What if it wasn't? Was he trapped somewhere, was he dreaming again? Was this reality or not? How could he tell?

But after Delta had finished signing, Color realized that he had stopped shaking so much. He didn't feel much calmer, as he was still hyperventilating, but he was able to see Delta clearly enough to listen. He found himself breathing a tiny bit slower, his body slowly relaxing the longer Delta held eye contact - he couldn't look away.

Color managed to regain his voice after a moment. He hadn't experienced kindness from someone else in so long... it felt amazing. And yet, that feeling was quickly overtaken by terror and suspicion.

Tears rolled down his skull as he managed to choke out that he wanted to go home. But what was home? Was it the VOID? His AU? Where was it, what was it? Was it with anyone?

Delta and Core were both quite surprised, but upon seeing the despiration in Color's eyes, Delta decided to back off on taking his friend anywhere new.

Core softly spoke up, offering to take Color back to his new apartment. But Color shook his head, unsure of where that was - if it even existed.

After about an hour of trying to talk Color down, Delta had managed to bring him back to reality and get him to take some deep breaths. He handed Color his water, which the other immediately snatched and downed in one go.

Delta was surprised, but gladly let the other take it. And once Color had managed to ground himself and calm down, they slowly stood and offered a hand up. (In truth, with how sudden the panic attack happened, he wasn't quite sure if Color would be able to walk without help.)

Color flinched back, his shaky hands tensing at the sudden movement. But when he saw Delta was genuinely offering to help, he paused.

He hesitated, unsure if touch would send him back over the edge. But the pain in his legs made it feel impossible to get up on his own.

He didn't want to get hurt or tricked. But the kindness in Delta's bright orange eyes told him that he was safe.

For once in his life, something was telling him he was safe.

Slowly, he reached out a shaking hand.

Delta gladly took it.

His tight, strong grip was like no other Color had felt - not in a while, at least. Their hands felt strong and safe, comforting Color and silently telling him that not a single Soul would dare to harm him - not if Delta was around to help it.

The orange metal gauntlet was a surprisingly smooth, almost soothing texture. It was slightly cold, but warmer than Color was expecting - was it always like that, or did Delta just do that for him?

And as Delta pulled him up with ease, Color felt their body practically melt into his hand. It helped that Color couldn't feel his bones - the gauntlet covered his hand fully, blocking out any physical contact from under it. And the fact that it was smooth and not rough or jagged or cold like other metals was the icing on the cake.

Quickly pulling him to his feet, Delta held his hands out just in case Color stumbled or collapsed again. But once his new friend was stable, Core began to lead them to the apartment.

Color still doubted his surroundings. He yanked his hand away from Delta after a moment, but mumbled a quiet 'thank you'. Delta responded with a bright smile.

As they walked in silence, Color couldn't help but notice a protective energy around the group - as if something was watching over them, keeping them safe, protecting them.

He glanced over at Delta.

He figured out where the energy was coming from.

If anyone dared to look in their direction as they made their way to the apartment, they were met with a fiercely protective glare from Delta - a silent promise of hurt if they dared approach with ill intentions. Their hands were kept firmly at their sides as they surveyed the surroundings, keeping track of every alleyway, every person, what they looked like.

Color felt safe. He didn't know why or how, or if it was a trick. But he felt his body relax slowly as they continued walking.

And after a 10 minute walk, they arrived at the apartment.

As Delta carefully held his keys as still as possible so they wouldn't jingle too much, he slowly cracked open the white door, and entered in.

It was fairly clean, though evident that Delta had been living there - he hadn't expected to have company so soon, but had a short warning beforehand (three days) so he could at least clean up the place. Everything was swept and dusted, but his work clothes and apron had been carelessly tosses into a pile near his bedroom door.

The dark, dull beige walls of the apartment greeted their eyes first. The light brown couch was lovingly worn down from Delta alone, with the TV remote resting on the class coffee table in front of it.

The TV stand was nothing fancy, either - not that Delta cared, anyhow. It was tidy with a few movie boxes and a DVD player on it, on the small shelf below the TV itself. The TV was a decent size, nothing huge but definetly big enough for multiple people to enjoy.

The big light above them had been left on, but Delta quickly shut it off as to not overwhelm Color. He silently slipped his shoes off before fully entering to reach for the lightswitch, walking on the cold wooden floors.

Looking a bit to his left, Color could see the open entrance to what Delta described as the kitchen. He could faintly see what looked like chairs and possibly a table.

To his right, he saw a hallway. Delta explained that it led to the bathroom and bedrooms, though Color couldn't quite remember what that meant.

Color remained frozen in the doorway. He saw dozens of items he had a vague memory of, but didn't know the names.

Delta silently awaited a reaction, wanting to ensure Color didn't get overwhelmed. Though, to him, there wasn't much to get overwhelmed about. But judging by Color's earlier reactions, he wasn't quite sure if it would be the same.

Softly, Color asked what the new items were.

Delta was quite surprised by that. But, he cautiously described each and every one, giving Color breaks when he saw his face twist in confusion.

Eventually, Color managed to walk into the house. He took a close look around at the bleak walls, into the kitchen and down the hall. There were so many new things - but all he cared about right now was sleep.

Before he got fully settled, however, Delta offered both him and Core lunch. He wouldn't be able to cook much (the oven was most likely still broken from the last time he attempted to use it), but he could at least feed them a snack or something.

Color's demeanor suddenly sparked up at the mention of food. And upon seeing the sudden shift in attitude, Delta took it as a yes and immediately headed to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches.

To his surprise, Color followed.

The creaks in the floorboards startled him at first, along with Delta's silent footsteps - why couldn't he hear them? Were they really there?

Delta glanced back, to see Color looking confused and uncomfortable. He was about to ask what was up, when Color softly spoke out and asked why he was so quiet.

Delta was surprised, but apologized and explained that he didn't want to overwhelm him. He made sure to walk a little louder. He could see the distant look behind Color's blank eyes.

But he noticed something else - Beta had pointed it out - that concerned him. Color was fidgeting with his hands, pacing in circles around the kitchen on his small square, keeping his eyes on Delta's hands the entire time.

Color nervously glanced at the food. He barely remembered what it was like to eat something - he didn't remember what the name or ingredients of what Delta was making, but made sure that the other wasn't adding any pills or something strange.

Color still wasn't sure if he was safe. Could Delta be trusted? What if this is a trap? Are they going to poison him? Would Core allow that? What if they're the one who suggested it?

Upon seeing Color work themselves up again into another panic, Delta quietly offered for him to come help, if he wanted. He didn't want to make his roommate uncomfortable, but it was clear neither of them knew quite what to do.

Color was startled out of his thoughts, quickly looking up to Delta as he froze in place again. He could barely think, but after a few minutes of debate, he decided to learn about whatever Delta was doing.

As he cautiously approached, Delta made sure Color could see all the ingredient lists and what he was using, how he was using it and where it belonged in his organized mess of a kitchen.

Color had no idea what to do with any of the items, or what they were. And despite not knowing if Delta would tell the truth or not, he decided to ask.

Delta was visibly surprised by this, but made space for Color on the counter and patiently explained the process of making a sandwich, including all the ingredients. They weren't sure if it would be too much for Color to handle, but tried to help anyways.

Color was quick to learn. When he wanted to taste the items first before he put it on his sandwich, Delta didn't stop him. He made sure to separate his sandwich from Color's for sanitary reasons, though.

As they observed from their seat on the windowsill, Core couldn't help but smile. They knew they had made the right choice to pair these two together in spite of their differences.

After the boys had finished making the sandwiches, Delta let them sit anywhere in the apartment as he gave Core their sandwich.

To their surprise, Color scarfed his sandwich down in mere seconds. Delta was worried he'd choke, but somehow he didn't.

After making sure Color wasn't sick from eating so fast, Delta offered to make him another sandwich. Color frantically agreed.

As Delta got up to make him another sandwich, Color stood and asked if he could do it. He truly meant no offense, but he just didn't trust Delta enough to let him make the food.

Core smiled. And, as to not startle Color, they announced their leave.

The two bid Core their goodbyes, and Core left silently as Delta continued to teach Color how to make a sandwich.

And despite Color's clear distrust and fear, the two had been inseparable ever since.

Of course, their relationship has had its ups and downs over the few months they had known each other.

It was certainly an experience for Delta when he first found Color on the kitchen floor, sleeping peacefully with the lights dimly lit up.

Delta, having thought the poor guy was fully unconscious, immediately tried to wake him up while frantically calling the doctors in charge of Color's care at two in the morning.

Color woke up quickly, startled and hostile, kicking and screaming in shock. Delta had jumped back, but breathed a sigh of relief - and hung up after telling the doctors that Color was alive.

That night turned into a long conversation, which led to them helping Color get situated in his new room with the offer of full control over it. The doctors came by to check on them about 15 minutes later, but once they judged that Color was safe, they left.

Another late night memory that Color happily reminisced on was a comforting reminder that he was no longer alone - Delta had caught him playing chess by himself at 1 am, muttering his moves to himself.

Delta, who was somehow both the lightest and deepest sleeper that Color had ever known (even though they were his only friend), was awoken by mutterings coming from the couch.

And upon investigating, visibly concerned of what he would find, he was relieved to see Color.

Delta had asked what he was doing, making Color flinch at the interruption. But when he explained, Delta, in his half-asleep state, managed to say that he didn't have to play alone anymore because Color had him now.

Against his better judgement, he offered to play with him. Color thought for a moment, but accepted.

They both managed to fall asleep as they played chess, waking up on the couch as the warm beam of sunlight gently awoke them from their peaceful slumber.

And it was definitely fun to remember how he had met Beta for the first time - the day he realized that he wasn't alone in having a human Soul with him.

They had walked in on Delta and a glowing orange outline of a body softly talking early in the morning - it sounded like they were talking about some kind of dream. By the tone, Color could tell the spirit sounded nervous as Delta made him some kind of drink that Color didn't recognize.

When he called out to them, the two flinched and swiveled around - but upon seeing him, relaxed.

Color remembered asking who the figure was.

The two looked startled, glancing at each other, before the spirit turned back to Color with the biggest grin he had ever seen.

Excitedly, the kid introduced himself as Beta, explaining who he was and why. He was thrilled that Color could see him - he thought no one other than Delta could! He was so excited!

Delta tried to calm his kid down, not wanting him to overwhelm Color. But for the first time, Color felt something stirring inside of him as the spirits in his head managed to force him to say hi.

A few who were more powerful were able to make themselves into spirits to say hello. Beta was practically jumping up and down when he saw that.

That was probably his favorite 3 am experience with Delta.

He remembered his first panic attack in the house, when Delta had gone out to buy groceries early before work as to not wake up Color. He remembered frantically calling Delta, in tears when the other picked up.

Within seconds, Delta had managed to steal the cart with the groceries still in it, slap a $50 on the counter for the cashier, and teleport home - where he literally slipped on the floor and dragged the cart down with him on total accident.

Yet still, once they managed to get up somehow unharmed, they left the groceries on the ground so they could run to help Color.

He remembered when an ignorant Monster had decided to challenge Color's flames, mocking his body. He remembered the shame and humiliation - and how it quickly turned to utter shock when he saw Delta clock him in the jaw, breaking it almost instantly and knocking the man out.

Color remembered the way Delta had grabbed his hand, quickly pulling him up from his seat in the Cafe and began to run. They ran all the way back to their apartment practically at the speed of light, and when they got in and locked the door, they took a moment to breathe.

They looked at each other, still in mild shock that that had just happened. But then they immediately burst into laughter, in awe that no one had stopped them or caught them yet.

(They got caught later that week cause the guy who got his ass beat saw Delta visiting Color in the hospital during one of his more frequent checkups. He bitched to Core about it and Delta got a earful from the kid. Color couldn't stop laughing.)

He remembered one of the many times when the sheer emptiness of the walls had trapped his mind into thinking he was back in the VOID - alone, cold, and scared.

Thankfully, Delta was home at the moment. He rushed to help as usual, bringing Color back to reality.

And for the first time, Color began to speak.

He spoke about the VOID. The darkness. The same dull scenery, a memory long forgotten and yet forcefully re-experienced every single day.

That was when Delta decided to paint the walls.

He let Color help, of course. He allowed Color to pick out the paint, while he went to find the paint brushes - they remained in each other's sight the whole time, not daring to stray too far.

Color ended up picking out a blue-teal color, and once they had gotten home, they began to rearrange the furniture momentarily so they could protect the floor and such.

It took about three days to paint, which was a bit longer than either had planned. But in those three days, they had begun to talk, both sharing their respective stories about how they had gotten here.

Delta was much more open about it than Color was. But Color, being intuitive as ever, noticed that Delta never went into specific details - he only managed to say that things happened, and instead preferred to go on about his adventures fighting bad guys in the multiverse.

Color asked, once. Out of curiosity. He had asked why Delta had chosen to do that of all things.

Delta managed a quick response. It was witty, Color gave him that, but based on the guilt and hidden shame in their eyes, he knew it wasn't the full truth.

He asked if something had happened to make him not want to talk about it.

Delta dodged the question by changing the subject.

They didn't bring it up again.

He remembered the first time he had recieved a hug from Delta. It was during a panic attack, where Color was doubting his reality and everyone around him, desperately reaching out for anything to keep ahold of.

Delta could see the despiration in his eyes. The desperation to be loved, seen, wanted, remembered. He saw it. Without much thinking, they held him, drawing him close in one swift movement.

It was magical. Color truly had no idea what he had been missing until he had it - but he wasn't ready to let it go missing again.

He remembered collapsing into Delta's arms, sobbing into his chest as he desperately clung to him while Delta coaxed him down gently.

After about two hours of calming him down, Delta was allowed to make the mistake of attempting to let go. Color refused.

Luckily, Delta learned quickly, and did not attempt to let go until Color was ready. Color stayed attached to his hip for the rest of the day, terrified that if he let go, it would never return.

And during some of their late night talks, sometimes Delta would say that he couldn't remember a time where he didn't know Color. Days all blended together - unless something particularly exciting happened that set it apart from the other days.

Color wished he could say the same.

But in these months, these three fresh months, never had he felt so exhilarated and overwhelmed at the same time.

Every moment with Delta was precious. Delta had even managed to score Color a job at the same place so that he'd feel less alone - and would be able to adjust better.

Delta had always been the stronger one of of the two of them - from how he carried himself, to the way he'd threaten violence at any given second if someone so much as dared to breathe incorrectly in Color's direction. It was clear he was capable of great violence. Especially with how much he bragged about his fights in the past.

Color had never been more grateful to find a friend who was willing to tolerate his codependency. And Delta happily entertained it - they would never dare to admit it, but they were incredibly lonely.

And Color had learned how to carry himself, too - how to carry himself with utmost confidence, ensuring no one would dare to doubt him (except himself). He learned how to get away with most things, lying flawlessly without guilt if it was necessary. He learned that it was okay to ask for help when he needed to, when he wanted to. He learned how to love himself, even if it was just a little bit.

He learned how to interact with his Souls and Beta, and how to accept them as his reality. He learned how to be reckless and how to fight, but to also calculate and plan out moves and escapes when necessary. He learned that although life wasn't kind or safe all of the time, he had the power to make it a little kinder and a little safer - if not for himself, then for others.

He learned that for once, he had power and control over himself and his surroundings. He learned to apologize for mistakes and move on instead of deflecting them, and that it was okay to be angry and process the trauma that had been caused to him.

He had learned so much in these three months with them.

He remembered how he had doubted Delta at first, as he watched silently, analyzing every move and what it meant. Delta carried himself with nothing less than reckless confidence, so much so that no one dared to doubt him - even when he was blatantly wrong about something.

But when Delta showed him the kindness of acceptance, he doubted him a bit less each time. It didn't take too long for Color to feel comfortable enough to trust him with important things - buying and making the food, getting water, keeping them entertained and safe. Such simple things to Delta were the most important things to Color.

Yes, these memories and experiences were the core of their relationship - his favorites by far. But these dreamy memories of his were cut short by a sudden loud clang, triggering a harsh memory of when Delta had awoken to Color screaming after he accidentally hurt himself while making a late night snack.

The blood gushed out of his palm as the knife clattered to the ground, as Color frantically began to hyperventilate at the sight of his own blood.

Delta sprinted out of his room, running straight at Color as he managed to dial for help at the same time. How his hands were so steady as he sprinted at full force, Color still couldn't figure out.

He dragged Color to the bathroom, immediately beginning to hold it above Color's Soul to help stop the bloodflow as Delta got a tourniquet above the wound, on his wrist. He quietly reassured Color that the ambulance was on its way. His hands lit up in a soothing green glow, as they gently held his palm close.

He remembered the pure fear in Delta's eyes as he forcefully woke himself up, trying to hide it as they comforted Color. They whispered kind words of reassurance, holding him close as they let him cry on their shoulder.

He remembered when he was half asleep in the hospital bed, that Delta was sobbing as quietly as he could. Color couldn't hear it - but when he tried to roll his head over to look at Delta, he saw the other keeping their head down, shaking lightly as they breathed deeply, trying to hold it all in.

That was the first, and only, time that he had ever seen Delta get so scared that he cried. And it killed him to know that it was his fault his friend was crying.

In the morning, when Color woke up, Delta had clearly been awake. He wasn't sure if they had slept at all. They did not talk about the tears of last night, rather opting to check in on Color and his wound.

They did not bring it up again. And Color vowed to never make that kind of mistake again.]

Color jolted awake, with a short gasp for air as the loud, shattering clang echoed through the apartment.

His mind raced as he tried to figure out if he was still dreaming or not. He rushed to check his palm, only to see the wound closed up and scarred.

A thud followed.

His heart skipped a beat, as his body began to move without thinking. Within seconds, Color had ran from his bed to the kitchen...

... to find Delta collapsed on the ground, a pile of broken glass surrounding him.

His eyes were blank, a dull shade of the usual bright orange that greeted Color when he woke up. His expression held nothing of its normal composure, as his body slumped towards the ground on his knees.

Color froze, his eyes widening as he felt his Soul drop into his nonexistent stomach.

What the fuck?

What just happened?!

"Delta...?" His voice trembled as he spoke softly. He didn't want to startle the other.

No response.

[Is he sleep walking again? How did this even happen?] Color thought, slowly moving closer. He examined his roommate, checking for any external injuries, but there were none.

So, cautiously, Color reached out to lightly shake Delta's shoulder.

Still, no response.

Color's breathing began to get shaky as his mind raced with terrifying possibilities as to why they could be acting like this. Did something happen? Are they hurt? Were they dying? Did they need to go to the hospital? Was it even really them?

Delta wasn't even blinking. And with his hand now hesitantly resting on their shoulder, Color couldn't feel them breathing, either.

Color flinched when he realized that there was not a single movement from Delta. No flinching, no startle, not even breathing. Nothing.

He shook his roommate a little more aggressively, his breath catching in his throat as he desperately called out for him, "Delta?! Hey, come on, wake up!"

The harder Color shook him, the closer he got to getting Delta to snap out of it, even if it was just a little.

Finally, Color got desperate enough to smack him on the shoulder as hard as he felt comfortable.

As the hit landed, Delta's hand shot up and grabbed Color by the wrist, making the other flinch and gasp lightly in shock.

Delta's empty stare turned to Color, making him shiver.

He spoke softly, calling out to him, "Delta?"

Delta still gave no response. Didn't even blink. But after a minute, he slowly released Color's wrist from his grip. His hand dropped back down, hanging limply at his side.

Color was startled at how motionless it was. There was such little weight to his grip - nothing at all like he was used to. As his voice still shook, he called out again, "Delta?... can you hear me? Are you- can you answer me, please?"

He pleaded.

Luckily, he got a blink this time.

Color felt a bit relieved, at least knowing that Delta was awake now. But still, he awaited some kind of response, anything at all.

Their blank, empty stare was unnerving. There was absolutely nothing behind their eyes - just like the rest of their expression.

They tried to speak. Nothing came out.

Color's eyes widened in horror. "Delta?! Hey, hey, what's wrong? Is- is something wrong? Are you hurt? Why can't you speak? Did you-"

"I'm fine." An empty, desolate voice muttered in response.

Color flinched back, ripping his hand off of Delta's shoulder.

No. This wasn't him. This- this can't be him, right? It barely even sounds like him!

No, it can't possibly be. His eyes are too dull, voice too bleak. He wasn't even wearing his usual clothes, Color noticed. He was wearing a tank top, no gauntlets on, and black shorts and socks.

He had seen Delta sleep in those clothes before, but now it just looked wrong. Like it wasn't really them.

Was he having another nightmare?

Was this real?

There's no way this was Delta. There's just no way! There was no spark, no energy, no emotion, nothing! It was honestly creeping him out.

Seeing his brightest - and only - friend so lifeless just... wasn't right.

The Souls inside his head spoke softly, discussing what they should do to snap Delta out of it, if there was even anything they could do about it. Color listened to the options, but they all eventually agreed to try to talk to Beta first - see if he knew what was going on.

"Beta? Kiddo, you there?" Color called out, eyeing the time. It was around 3 in the morning. Surely the kid would be asleep, but maybe he could wake him up.

No response. But upon hearing his name get called out, Delta's eyes seemed to glaze over even more as their orange color slowly drained into white.

His eyes went wide as he helplessly watched all the color dissappear from their eyes.

"... okay. So that didn't work. Let's just... take him out of the glass." Color muttered to himself, slowly moving closer to Delta again.

Cautiously stopping outside of the ring of glass, Color reached down and grabbed Delta by the arms. Then, he slowly pulled him up, and dragged him out of the glass. He managed to lift them high enough to get him safely out of the ring.

Delta's body practically collapsed into Color, startling the other entirely. His whole body was just limp in Color's arms.

What was going on with them?

After adjusting the other, Color picked him up fully, and carried him over to the couch.

He gently lowered Delta onto the couch, having him lay down on his side in case anything happened. He sat on the ground in front of them.

There was a long moment of silence, before Delta spoke again.

"Are you here?" They murmured, staring emptily at the wall.

Color was surprised, but quickly nodded, "Yeah, I'm here, Del. I'm right here. Can you talk? What's going on?"

Delta tried to speak again, but nothing came out. So, slowly, they forced their arms to move up and began to sign.

'I'm sorry.'

Color was taken aback.

"... sorry for what?" He asked softly, moving a bit closer.

'I messed up. I failed.'

"What do you mean?"

'I hurt them. I couldn't save them.'

"Who couldn't you save?"

'You know.'

Color paused. Who was Delta talking about? Did they even know it was him?

"Do you know it's me, Delta?"

Delta paused for a moment. In truth, they really didn't know. But they felt the Bravery Soul nearby, and assumed it was Beta. 'Yes.'

Color breathed a sigh of relief. "Alright. But, who are you talking about?"

'Frisk.'

Color froze.

"... what do you mean? How did you fail them?" He murmured, looking over Delta's body language. But there was nothing to look at.

'They died. You know that. Don't make me say it, please.'

"Did you... have a dream about them?" Color asked, desperately trying to figure out what was going on. Why this sudden memory? And why now, of all times?

'Yeah. Was hurt again.'

"I'm sorry to hear that."

'Nothing we can do about it.'

"Do you... wanna talk about it?"

'I failed them. I couldn't save them. I killed them. It's all my fault.'

There was a long pause in their conversation. Hesitantly, Color asked, "... is something else bothering you?"

'I can't do it anymore.'

Color froze, his eyes slowly widening in terror as his Soul skipped a beat. "Wh-what do you mean by that?"

'He's hurting and I can't make it better. I'm failing him.'

The air around them held still as Color silently stared into Delta's dull eyes.

"... what?" He shakily reached to cover his mouth, absolutely horrified.

'I wanna help him so bad. But there's nothing I can do. I can't do anything right.'

"Hold on-"

'He hurts cause I can't make it any better. It's all my fault. I don't wanna fail him like the others, but I guess I'm not much good at protecting, either.'

"Delta."

'What do I have if I can't help him? Nothing. Got nothing. He got taken here so someone could help, and I can't even do that right.'

"Delta!" Color desperately tried to shake him awake, as tears pricked his eyes. What was going on? Did they really feel this way?

'It's all my fault. He's hurting and it's all my fault. Maybe they should put him with someone better. He deserves better than me.'

"Delta, listen to me-"

'First I hurt Frisk, and then Paps, and now I hurt him. Why can't I do anything right? Why can't I do what I'm supposed to? I wanna help but I keep hurting people. I'm so stupid.'

"Hey!-"

'I'm worthless if I can't help him. I have no use. They only like me when I can be useful, and I can't even do that right now. I'm such a burden. What is wrong with me?-'

"STOP!"

Delta stopped, as Color's chest heaved, breathing shakily as tears dripped down his skull.

It killed him to see how much pain Delta was in. He was heartbroken. Why hadn't they told him about this? Did they really feel like this all the time? No wonder they were so stressed out, the poor guy!

But seeing the still blank look in their eyes, Color knew he had to help.

He took a deep breath, wiping his eyes as he restrained his sobs. He couldn't cry. Not now. Not while his best friend needed him.

Once Color had calmed down quite a bit, he gently cupped Delta's face, holding it in his warm hands.

As small tears still leaked from Color's eyes, he spoke, voice trembling, "Delta, I need you to listen to me, please." He pleaded softly.

Delta nodded, 'Okay.'

Color took a deep breath as he spoke, "Delta, I don't know why you think these things or if anyone made you think them, but you are not a failure. You are not a burden, not to me or anyone else.

I don't know much about you. What you've been through, what you're going through, I don't know. You've done a really good job at hiding that. You let me know what you want me to know. I can't blame you for that - I do that, too.

But I don't want you suffering in silence. I may not be the best with emotions, and I might not be the best guy to hang around sometimes, but I care about you.

I'm sorry if I ever made you feel this way. But listen to me now - I don't think that you're a failure. I don't think you're a burden, or at fault for any of the things you've been through. Okay?"

Slowly, the color began to return to Delta's eyes. But still, he signed, 'I'm sorry. I'm weak.'

"No, you're not." Color insisted sternly, gently stroking the side of Delta's skull with his thumb, "You're not weak. You're not any of the horrible things you claim you are.

You're not weak. You're not a burden. You're certainly not a failure. And you're most definetly not stupid."

There was another pause, as Color calmed himself. And gently, still cupping Delta's face with his right hand, he trailed the other to Delta's hand, which had slowly dropped back down when they had finished speaking.

Delta managed to speak. "Why?" They whispered.

Color's eyes saddened. "Well, if you really don't know... then let me tell you.

Listen, I know we've only known each other for a couple months, but... you've helped me more than anyone else ever has. You've put up with me when no one else wanted to - when even I didn't want to. But you stuck by my side, didn't leave me alone, even when I annoyed you.

You protected me. Remember when that guy at the Cafe harassed me? You punched the shit out of him and then brought me home. You didn't let him hurt me, even though you didn't know anything about me at that point.

And the nightmares? You stayed with me. You woke me up when we stayed together in your room, even let me sleep in your bed while you slept on the floor when I was too scared to be touched. And even when I woke you up screaming, you held me, calmed me down. And you never got mad! You never yelled at me, even when you had work in the morning.

And at work, whenever I was able to show up, you always protected me, made excuses for me when I couldn't show up. You always kept me safe, even when you weren't around. They knew they couldn't hurt me because you'd hurt them back, even if you got in trouble for it.

You've helped me more than you even know. You taught me how to live again - literally! I didn't even know how to eat when I first got here, but you were patient enough to teach me how to use the utensils. You even helped me wash up when I physically couldn't do it myself.

You always got me to my doctor appointments, even leaving work early to drive me there. You put up with me even when I didn't want to go, and when I exploded because I was so scared of them. And you always made sure to call the doctors when I needed help and couldn't call anyone for myself, even when I got mad at you for it.

Even when I was tired and depressed, you took care of me. You made sure I ate and bathed at the very least, even if you couldn't drag me out of the house. You did everything that you could to help me, and succeeded. No one had ever done that for me before. You were the first.

You stuck by my side, even when I got sick and got you sick in return. I didn't mean to, I still feel kinda bad about it. But you never made me feel like a burden, or like it was a mistake that you got paired with me. You've always been so good to me.

You never made me feel like an asshole, even when I acted like it. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like this, but... you've saved me more times than I can even count.

Like that time when I was too paranoid to let anyone in the house, including you. You were patient with me and talked me down from the other side, even though I was having a panic attack because I was alone. You stayed with me until I was calm enough to use logic and let you in. And even still, you weren't mad at me! I honestly don't know how you put up with me sometimes.

And remember when I cut myself on accident that one night? You woke up and were literally at my side in seconds. And you called for help while calming me down, trying to keep me from passing out. You certainly weren't useless then, so why would you be now?

I know we didn't talk about it again after that night, but... I saw you crying when I woke up. I didn't even notice it at first - you were so quiet about it. But I saw it. And I'm sorry that I didn't say this before, but you're not weak for crying.

I'm not... even sure if that's what you're thinking right now. But in case you are, I really don't think you're weak for crying.

You never made me feel weak for crying. So why make yourself feel that way? You don't deserve that hate, even if it's coming from yourself.

I know I don't say it a lot, but I really care about you. Even when I'm scared or angry or overwhelmed with the world, you're the only good part of it. You've practically kept me sane! You've helped me in more ways than I can even count. And I certainly wouldn't call that failure, now, would I?" He smiled.

The longer Color spoke for, the more the orange spark return to Delta's eyes. And by the time he finished, Delta had come back into reality fully - having no clue what was going on or why, but appreciated being woken up from whatever had happened with fond memories and kind words.

Color smiled softly at them. "Hey, buddy. Glad you're back."

Delta nodded, propping himself up with the arm that Color wasn't holding. However, he gladly let Color's hand stay on his face, and lightly nuzzled into it, still confused, "Uh, hey... what happened? How'd I get here?" He asked softly, glancing around.

"I honestly have no idea. I heard glass breaking and saw you in the kitchen, but you weren't answering me - totally out of it. So I got you away from the glass and brought you over here. You didn't look hurt, but... you started talking, and-"

"Wait, wait, lemme stop you there. What do you mean I was in the kitchen?" Delta asked, his eyes going slightly wide as he realized that there was no lying out of this situation. He was going to have to tell Color about the episodes.

He sat up fully, making Color back up a bit and take his hand off of Delta's face. However, when he tried to let go of Delta's hand, he instead tightened his grip slightly - he didn't want to let go yet.

Color gladly obliged.

"Well, I got woken up by the glass, and saw you in the kitchen. You were on the ground and the glass was all around you. Don't know how you got there, though - your guess is as good as mine." He answered.

Delta nodded along, turning to look back into the kitchen. And sure enough, the ring of glass was still there, not yet cleaned up.

"... huh. That's really weird." They muttered.

Color couldn't help but snicker at that.  "You're telling me, man." He replied.

Delta turned back, his brain still processing all of this, "You said I woke you up? Shit, I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to."

"Hey, no, don't worry about it. Whatever happened, didn't look like you had much control over." Color replied, smiling reassuringly. "Do you remember anything?"

"Uhh, sorta. I remember I was laying in bed, then-" a look of realization dawned on their face. "... oh."

Color tilted his head. "What?"

"... um. Okay. I got something to explain." They muttered, sighing.

Color was even more confused. He motioned for Delta to go on, and he did. "So, I had a nightmare last night. And, sometimes, when I have nightmares, I tend to... dissociate."

"Dissociate?" Color repeated. The hell did that mean? Delta hadn't taught him that word yet.

"Yeah. Um, I lose grip on reality, I'd have no clue what's going on whatsoever. That brings me to a question, though. Did I say anything weird?" Delta looked nervous even asking it.

Color thought for a moment. Would he classify those things as 'weird'? I mean, they were definetly abnormal, so maybe that's what they mean.

He nodded. "I mean, for you, kinda. I've never heard you speak that way before."

Their Soul sunk. Oh fuck. What did they say?

"Oh, that's great." He muttered sarcastically.

Unfortunately, Color didn't quite understand sarcasm yet. He quickly replied, "Not really. It was kinda scary - you started going on about a lot of things, things I didn't even know you were thinking about. Do you want me to repeat it?-"

"No."

The sudden venom in their voice was startling enough to make Color stop. He quietly examined his friend. Had he said something wrong? Were they angry at him for talking too much? Why were they upset?

But when he looked at them, instead of anger, Color saw hurt. Their face was twisted in a deep sadness, clearly having not expected things to go down like this.

They didn't talk for a good few minutes, until Delta spoke up first.

"You weren't meant to know." He muttered, staring at the ground in shame.

Color tried to say something, but Delta continued on, "I didn't tell you because I didn't want to be weak. Not when you needed someone to help you. It'd be unfair of me to burden you after you just got out of basically solitary confinement for 20 years of your life.

And after everything I've seen you go through, fuck, you've been hurting so much. And it's not your fault at all - I ain't saying that I'm uncomfortable around you or anything like that, just... didn't think I'd need to tell you so soon. I'm sorry."

Color stared up at him for a long moment, before asking, "Do you think I'm weak for needing help, Delta?"

Delta tensed, instinctively looking up with pure worry in his eyes, "What?! No, not at all!"

But before he could say anything else, Color replied in an even tone, "Then why do you think that you're weak for needing help?"

Silence.

Delta stared at him, his eyes wide as he tried to figure out if Color was joking or not - if they had said something to upset him. But when they saw the empathy in his eyes, they realized what it really meant.

"... I guess I didn't... really think of it that way." They sheepishly admitted, glancing away from him.

Color couldn't help but smile, as he moved closer. He sat on the couch, and Delta gladly made room for him. Instinctively, like Delta had done many times for him, Color slinked an arm around his shoulder and held him close.

Delta tensed at first, but eventually relaxed into Color's arms.

"That's alright. I'm not mad, obviously. Can't really get upset at you for hiding things when I haven't exactly been the most vulnerable," Color said, making them both chuckle lightly.

"But, still. If you have these problems, I wanna help. It's not fair if you only help me and I don't help you back. So let me help. Okay?" Color asked softly, smiling at him.

Delta was surprised. He wasn't used to being able to let his guard down - he never knew when it was safe to relax without worrying about someone catching him and picking a fight when he was vulnerable.

Vulnerability was not a concept he was comfortable with yet.

But as he looked deep into Color's eyes, he knew that he was safe - he didn't know why, but... something inside him was telling him that he was safe to let his guard down.

He relaxed, nodding slowly as a smile crept up on his face.  "Okay."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Alright. You, uh, wanna talk about it?" Color offered, still concerned.

Delta thought for a moment, but shook his head. He really didn't. He didn't want to think about it anymore.

Color nodded, "That's okay. I definetly can't blame you for that. But, if you do, let me know - I'm here to listen, alright?" He asked, gently rubbing Delta's shoulder.

Delta nodded. "I will. Thank you."

"It's no problem. Think you can go back to sleep, or do you wanna stay up? We can watch a movie, or play a game - go on a walk, if you want." Color offered, knowing that Delta would probably need different options if he wanted a distraction.

Delta thought for a long moment, quietly speaking to Beta about what to do. They settled on a movie.

"I don't think I'm ready to go back to sleep. Could we watch something?" They asked quietly.

Color nodded, "That's fine. Need anything to drink, eat?"

They shook their head, "No, I'm alright. You can get something if you want to, though."

Color paused to think. But after all of this, he decided to just get up and grab Delta some water anyways. "I'm gonna get some water. Wanna come with?"

Delta debated it for a moment, but decided to get up with him. And the two quickly stood, and walked over to the kitchen.

"Watch the glass," Color reminded him, as he used his magic to get two mugs down for them.

Delta was distracted, however, and was now focused on getting something Beta was demanding - hot chocolate.

It was always the kid's favorite drink of choice after a bad nightmare. And after a night like this, they deserved it.

Color only seemed to notice when he heard the microwave start humming. He quickly turned around, to see Delta ready with a hot chocolate packet and extra marshmallows ready.

They both just stared at each other for a moment.

"... want one?" Delta offered. Color nodded, and went over to get started on his.

It took only a few minutes to prepare it, but Color was still confused. However, he wasn't sure if it'd be okay to ask.

Delta, intuitive as ever, knew he was confused. They answered before he asked, "Tradition for Beta and I. After a bad night, we get hot chocolate."

Color nodded, smiling lightly, "Awe, that's sweet."

The two finished their hot chocolates, and quickly headed back over to the couch. They placed their mugs on the table in front of them, getting out blankets and pillows so the couch would be more comfortable.

Once they had finished setting up, Color handed Delta the remote. "You pick."

Delta nodded, thanking him. But, to Color's surprise, he immediately started looking for The Lion King.

Color quickly turned to them, making Delta chuckle lightly, a bit embarrassed. "Tradition."

He chuckled, nodding back as Delta clicked 'play'. Color slung his arm around them again, holding them close as they drank their hot chocolates and watched the movie.

After a little bit, Delta found themselves getting lulled back to sleep as their body slowly relaxed. They tried to resist, not wanting to have another nightmare, but Color gently coaxed him into it.

The rest of the night was peaceful, as Delta fell asleep in Color's arms, holding them close - keeping them safe.

[forcryingoutlloud]

guilty as sin?

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni!) mutual masturbation, handjob, fingering, cum play? kind of?, very slight slapping (like once i think?) shit writing

a/n: i had such high hopes for this idea but alas i fear i did it no justice, i kinda just wanted to get it over and done with. anyway enjoy if you can? feedback is always appreciated too :) not proofread as i couldn’t bear to re read this one more time

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

“goodnight!” she called out to her boyfriends family, gently shutting the door to her bedroom and leaning her head back. she was alone for the first time in days - her boyfriend somehow bumping into an old friend in the old Italian town they were staying in and staying out for drinks - and she appreciated the lack of company.

her mind had been racing with thoughts of him all day, his chiseled abs glistening in the sunlight, his neck dripping with sweat that she longed to lick away and the illegally tiny shorts he was wearing that left practically nothing to the imagination.

him being her boyfriends brother.

unbeknownst to herself she clenched her thighs together and sighed, pulling the summer dress over her head and throwing it somewhere on the floor. her nipples had hardened, wether it was the thoughts racing through her head or the air conditioned room she wasn’t sure, but she settled herself on the bed, gently cupping a tit in her hand and squeezing.

she gasped out quietly at the touch before pinching her nipple and feeling another gush of wetness flood her panties. letting out quiet whimpers, she wished with everything she had that it was matty’s rough hands toying with her instead; but her imagination was strong enough to make her think it was him.

she moved her other hand down her body, biting her lip to stifle a gasp when her fingers came into contact with her clit over her underwear, pressing down slightly and rolling her hips to meet her touch.

she moved her panties to the side and ran two fingers through her slit collecting her wetness before bringing it back up to her clit and rubbing circles into the bud.

“matty,” she whimpered quietly, bringing a finger down to her entrance and pushing in.

she closed her eyes and whined loudly at the intrusion, before slapping a hand over her mouth trying to muffle her sounds.

“bit too late for that princess.”

her eyes ripped open and took her hand out of her panties, sitting up in the bed and staring at the man that was stood by the door.

“matty what are you doing?”, she wrapped her arms around her body trying to cover herself, crossing her legs to hide the glaringly obvious wet patch that had gathered on her baby pink panties.

the movement had brought mattys gaze to her core, a smirk taking over his face.

“the walls are thinner than you think sweetness,” he took a few steps closer to her, sitting on the opposite end of the bed, gazing at her with blown out pupils and pure desire in his eyes.

her eyes widened, a flush taking over her cheeks from the embarrassment of being heard. he cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her. “why’d you stop? i was enjoying the show.”

she bit her lip and thought for a moment. the angel on her shoulder telling her it was wrong, to tell him to get out. the devils voice was slightly louder, enticing her to give in to what she had been craving for so long.

with a flutter of her lashes she slipped her hand back into her underwear, a shaky breath leaving her pouted lips as she ran two fingers through her wetness.

“that’s it," he cooed. "feel good angel?” she sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and nodded, gazing at him with a sultry look on her face.

“want you to tell me sweet girl, tell me how good it feels. what you wish i was doing to you.”

she sucked in a sharp breath when she saw his hand move to squeeze at his sizeable bulge, wishing it was her hand instead.

"w-want you to fuck me," she slipped a finger inside herself and arched her back with a high pitched whine, the sight of her tits bouncing had matty stifling a groan through bitten lips.

"aw poor baby," he pouted at her mockingly, deft fingers undoing the button and zipper on his jeans and pulling them and his boxers down in one swift movement. his cock stood up proudly, flushed a slight shade of red and glistening at the tip with his arousal. "is he not good enough for you?"

she felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head at the reminder of her boyfriend, but it was soon forgotten when matty let out a moan as his hand grasped around his base, pumping steadily.

he fixed her with a stern gaze, his eyes narrowed slightly as she writhed on the bed. his hand that wasn't occupied with his cock slapped her thigh harshly. "answer me. thought you were a good girl hm? good girls do what they're told.”

she whined at the sting on her thigh and shook her head. “no, he can’t make me cum- fuck! always think of you instead-.” she brought her other hand down to rub at her clit, her fingers working rapidly inside her but not getting the job done as well as he could’ve.

he growled slightly at her words, his hand tightening around his cock and thumbing at his slit. “yeah sweet girl? does thinking of me get you off? mm bet it does, fuck-.”

he ran a thumb over his tip, his hips jerking and threw his head back exposing his pretty neck that was begging to be covered in her lipstick. but she knew that would be wrong.

she whined loudly when she slipped another finger inside herself, pumping them rapidly to bring herself to the edge. “matty i-.”

he smirked at her and pumped his cock harder, cocking a head at her. “‘s not good enough is it pretty girl?”

she pouted and shook her head, grinding her hips against her fingers. “need more matty please.”

he tutted at her and shook his head, his movements on his cock never faltering. “can’t do that sweetheart, ‘m not gonna touch you. you’re not mine are you?”

she whined loudly, tears brimming her eyes and threatening to fall at any moment from the dull pleasure.

all she needed was a small touch from the man in front of her to push her over the edge but he was denying her of what they both so desperately craved.

because of his brother.

his movements started to become erratic as he felt his orgasm approaching, rough groans and curses falling from his mouth with the odd moan of her name every now and then. “how about i cum all over that pretty face hm? will that be enough to get that slutty little cunt over the edge?”

she moaned loudly before slapping a hand over her mouth and biting down harshly. she gazed up at him with hooded eyes and nodded, mumbling a ‘please’ from beneath her palm.

he groaned and sat up, still pumping his cock, and moved so his knees were on either side of her stomach, angling his cock towards her face.

“open up pretty girl, can’t leave any evidence behind can we?” she opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out, eagerly awaiting his cum. he slammed a hand on the headboard above her as his orgasm hit, white spurts decorating her tongue, lips and chest.

she felt another gush of arousal through her core, but it wasn’t enough to push her over the edge. he threw his head back and took a few deep breaths before looking down at her with furrowed brows, his curls covering his forehead.

“god, look at you, so desperate for it. you’d do anything for me to touch you, wouldn’t you? yeah you would. so eager to please someone who you don’t belong to. it’s pathetic.”

the tears fell from her eyes at his harsh words but she couldn’t ignore the pulsing in her core. he moved down her body and brought a hand to her thigh, tracing random shapes into it.

“c’mon darling, you can do it. want you to cum for me, give it to me.”

she furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to figure out what he was tracing on her thigh, vaguely making out the letters ‘m’ and ‘i’.

“matty what-.”

by the time he had finished the ‘n’ the band had snapped inside her as she realized what he was doing, leaving her writhing and moaning on the sheets, his words of praise slowly grounding her.

he had written ‘mine’ on her upper thigh.

when she came back to her senses he had a smirk on his face as he scooped us his cum from her chest and stuck his fingers in her mouth, causing her to let out a defeated moan.

he sighed and looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and stood up, pulling his jeans back on and retreating to the door.

“clean yourself up, he’ll be home soon.”

[emlovslennon]

omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

-

Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

-

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

-

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT