#can’t believe I did this. it’s far from perfect but I actually like it??? unbelievably happy I can still do art it seems

[krystaldeath-art]

Quick thing to get an idea for my own version of The Lamb

[familyvideostevie]

october eighth

day eight: remus lupin you and remus fool around on a spooky path at night | 18+, minors dni, fem!reader, semi-public sex, unprotected sex | 1.9k detailed content warnings: fem!reader, semi-public sex (risk of being discovered, doesn't happen), unprotected p in v sex, fingering, little bit of dirty talk, little bit of praising, remus is a tiny tiny tiny bit mean, creampie

“Are you trying to torture me?” you ask. A cold gust blows down the forest path and you shiver, pressing harder into Remus’s side.

“Me?” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Never.” His arm is warm and heavy around your shoulders. You’d walk faster if you were less glued to him but you’re not about to pull away. The path is scary.

“Why are we doing this, again?” You look over at him. Remus looks lovely every second of every damn day but in tonight’s light from the full moon he’s practically glowing. The scars on his face stand out and you want to trace them.

“Because I have something to show you.” The harvest festival you’ve left behind is a dull road back down the path. You haven’t seen another person in almost ten minutes, even though you’re still technically on the fair grounds.

“You better not have something scary planned.”

Remus smirks at you and presses his lips to your temple. “Have faith, love,” he says. “I’m not going to terrorize you.”

You roll your eyes. The path is well traveled though deserted. The trees around you are tall, the color of their leaves still visible in the moonlight. It’s not quite a proper fall night but it’s pretty close.

“Why isn’t anyone out here? Whatever you want to show me can’t be that great if no one else wants to see it.” You’re teasing and Remus can tell. He tugs on your earlobe.

“We used to come out here in the summer, actually,” he says. “Not so much this time of year. Bit nippy.”

“Yeah, and creepy.” You’re speaking in a hush for no reason.

“Well, we came to see who would be brave enough to sneak into that.” He points in front of you and as you see a massive house rising out of the shadows at the end of the woods.

“Remus!” you gasp. “Fuck, that is scary!”

He laughs. He laughs at you. Unbelievable. He tugs you close, arms around you.

“Rumor says it’s haunted.” You believe it. The house itself looms in a way that cannot be natural. The siding is chipped and rotting, the windows nothing but broken glass with torn curtains flapping in the wind. It looks like the perfect place to get murdered.

“We are not going in there.”

“No,” he agrees, “we are not.” His hand rubs up and down your spine, warming you through your coat.

“Did you ever go in?”

“A few times, with James and Sirius,” he says. “Most everyone else who came down here was only interested in the house.”

You frown. “Is there something else more terrifying and more interesting that you idiots hung around for?”

Remus smirks and you know he’s up to something. Your buttoned up, calm, collected boyfriend has a devious side that still manages to surprise you.

He leans down and presses his lips to your ear. “This is where we’d come to snog girls,” he whispers.

Your breath stutters in your chest and you swallow and embarrassing noise at his closeness. “Oh?”

“Among other things,” he adds. He turns you in his hold and walks you backwards until you’re back in the trees, off the path a little bit. Your back hits the bark of a trunk.

“Other things?” you swallow. You see where this is going but you’re not sure how far he’ll take it. Already you feel hot under your layers.

He steps back into your space, pressing you against the tree, and drags his nose down your throat, nipping at your skin as he goes. “Would you let me do other things to you, darling?”

“Remus,” you gasp. “Remus, really? In the woods? Here?” Anyone could walk by. And yet…your legs clench at the idea.

“No one will see us,” he says, pulling away to look at you full on. “We’re off the path enough, I swear.” He rubs the skin under your eye with his thumb. “If you don’t want to I will happily take you home and fuck you in bed instead —”

“I want to,” you rush out. It’s the truth. Your sex life is healthy and fun and you like trying new things with him, but this is…something different. This is hot in a way you didn’t think fooling around outside would be. You like it.

“I thought I was the only one who went a bit wild under the full moon,” he teases. Smug bastard. You slide your hand down his chest and palm him through his pants. He’s half hard already.

“Nope,” you say, popping the p. He grins wolfishly.

“Going to be quiet?” he says, whispering. The woods aren’t silent, but all you can hear is your own heartbeat and Remus’s breaths. You nod. “Good girl.”

You surge forward to kiss him. It’s teeth and tongues, sloppy but hot. Remus manages to undo his belt before leaving the button and zipper to you as he goes for your own pants, mouth never leaving yours until you pull away to spit in you palm.

He hisses when you get under his briefs to grasp his cock. It’s warm in your cold hand and you jerk him as best you can with his pants still on. “Fuck,” he gasps.

“What was that about being quiet?” you mutter. He kisses you again, tonguing into your mouth as he pops the button on your jeans. His long fingers find their way underneath your underwear and into your cunt and you moan against his mouth.

“Hush,” Remus chides. You pant into his neck, your grip on his cock haphazard as he circles your clit. “You’re soaked, darling,” he says. “You like this? Being out in the open like this? Where anyone could see how wet you are?”

You grasp his bicep with the hand not in his pants so you don’t fall over. “Oh my god,” you gasp. Who knew you were so into this?

“Not quite,” he teases. He slips two fingers into you and you bite down on his collar. “I’m going to fuck you right here against this tree,” he says, voice deeper than usual in your ear. “And then we’re going to go home and you’re going to ride me after I lap at your cunt until you scream.”

“Busy — ah — night.” Remus sucks on your pulse point and you clench around his fingers. He thrusts into your hand and then his touch is gone and you whine.

“Can’t have you wrecking my plan with those hands,” he says. “Step out of your jeans?”

You look around and see no one in the darkness. Remus pulls his boxers down a little further so he can free his entire cock and his balls. If you weren’t so desperate for him to fuck you right now you’d get on your knees, but instead you shimmy your pants down and step out of one leg. It’s not like you’ll be able to pull them up if someone comes by but not being totally bare makes you feel better.

“Now what?” The cool air makes your cunt clench and you can see that Remus’s pupils are totally blown. He crowds you against the tree so your back is against it once more and hooks one hand around your thigh to lift your leg. The mechanics of fucking like this worry you a little but you’re perfectly content to let Remus arrange you how he likes.

“Now I fuck you,” he says. He strokes himself a few times then lines up near your entrance, the tip of his cock brushing your clit for a few breaths.

You moan low in your throat. “C’mon,” you whine. Remus doesn’t wait any longer. He slide inside you in one movement, stealing the air from your lungs. He wraps one leg around his hip and taps the other. Between his firm hold and the tree, you’re fairly secure with both legs around his waist.

“So tight,” he says in your ear. “I’ve been inside you hundreds of times and you’re still so tight.”

You’re about to retort when some twigs snap in the darkness. You freeze and Remus stays where he is, face in your neck and arms steady, palms on your bare ass.

The trail is almost certainly out of sight but not far enough that you can’t hear a group of guys walking down it. “It’s not that scary, dude,” one of them says.

“Be quiet,” Remus reminds you and then he starts moving his hips. You swallow your moans as he drags his cock out and then in again, torturously slow.

“People used to fuck in these woods when we were younger,” another guy says. Their voices are already fading but it feels like they’re right next to you.

“If only they knew,” Remus continues. His lips are pressed to your ear, tongue darting out between every sentence. “I can’t believe they aren’t hearing how wet you are.”

You might explode. You might bite through your tongue. The group keeps talking but you can’t be bothered to listen anymore. There is laughter and under the cover of the sound Remus snaps his hips hard and you swallow a scream.

“Good girl,” he tells you. You clench around him. “They’re gone.” You can’t hear anything anymore except your blood pounding in your ears. Remus finally picks up the pace. The sounds must be obvious — your slick, his balls smacking into your ass, your panting. But you don’t care. The angle he’s getting is so good and it’s so hot that anyone could walk by and see you taking him and —

“How close are you?” Remus grinds out.

“Close,” you manage. “Close, Remus, keep going —”

“Me too,” he says after he licks a stripe up your neck. “Dirty girl, letting me fuck you against a tree, I’m not going to last long —

“Inside,” you blurt out. “Please, inside me, Remus.”

Your eyes are closed but he shifts his hold on you and uses one hand to grab your jaw so you’ll look at him. His pupils are totally blown and his eyes are wide.

“You want to — fuck — walk out of here with my cum inside you?”

You nod frantically and he grabs your ass again, picking up his pace.

“Anything, Remus,” you moan. “Anything, just — ah — don’t stop, I’m —”

His cock hits that spot inside you once, twice, three times, and you’re gone. Over the edge, head thrown back far enough that you thump it against the tree as you clench around him. He says your name like a prayer and his hips still as he spurts inside you.

“Fuck,” he hisses. You’re both panting and he gently guides your legs back to the ground even though you’re weak in the knees. Your jeans have almost come off the remaining leg entirely but you don’t care. Remus pulls out of you and without tucking himself back into his briefs he leans down to pull your panties back up your legs and around your hips, your jeans following. “Can’t lose any,” he says.

You laugh. “That’s filthy,” you say, breath still returning to normal. You can’t believe you just fucked in the woods.

He shrugs and puts his cock, shiny with you, away and fastens his belt.

“C’mere, Remus.” He obeys and cups your face with one hand. You kiss him gently, chastely compared to what you were doing before. “Let’s go home,” you say. “So I can blow you because I’m not kneeling on this nasty forest floor.”

He laughs loudly, so loudly you know that anyone walking by will hear. Good thing you’re not fucking anymore.

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here! promptober masterlist, find all fics under #fvspromptober23

[imperfectpompom]

“Ah! Shit…” Wei Wuxian almost drops his chopsticks as the temperature of his mouthful of chilli oil soaked noodles hits him. “Shit!”

Wei Wuxian fans himself frantically with his hands as he tries to blow the steam out of his mouth. Across from him, Lan Zhan watches amusedly as he blows on his noodle soup patiently. Even the way he eats his food is perfect. God dammit - Wei Wuxian doesn’t have a chance. 

As his eyes start to water Wei Wuxian brings his gaze up using one hand to cover his mouth as he debates spitting his mouthful from hell out and the other still fanning his face. God he hopes the mascara he’s wearing doesn’t run. All he had wanted was Lan Zhan to notice his pretty eyelashes. Should have known something like this was coming when he put it on earlier. 

Eventually Wei Wuxian gives up on chewing and gulps the mouthful down. 

You would have thought that by now he’d burnt all of his mouth’s pain receptors off with spice haha!! Guess not. 

“Shit that hurts…” Wei Wuxian reaches for his glass and chugs the whole load of his water down. He usually doesn’t bother pouring the water glass when he sits down, but thank God Lan Zhan did. 

Wei Wuxian sighs as he places the cup back onto the table. Way to impress his crush… 

“Ow…”

“Are you okay, Wei Ying?” 

Wei Wuxian flicks his head up back to Lan Zhan’s gorgeous face with a smile plastered on his face. “Yeah, of course! Not the first time I’ve burnt my mouth hahaha… Only my pride was injured.” 

Lan Zhan’s eyes twinkle with unspoken laughter. “Of course. Do you need any medicine?” 

Wei Wuxian runs his tongue along the top of his mouth - he swears that burning his mouth has never actually hurt before!!! It usually just goes a bit numb. 

He can’t believe he’s saying this, “Well, if you have any then yeah that would--”

Wei Wuxian is cut off by two lips pressing to his own. 

His eyes go wide as he takes in a sharp inhale through his nose - he would recognise this skin tone and these unbelievably close facial features anywhere. 

Lan Zhan???

No that can’t be right. 

Oh, who cares?!?! Wei Wuxian closes his eyes as the insistent lips press closer and a tongue runs across the line of his mouth he drags in a shaky sigh through his lips, opening up to the very much wanted visitor. Wei Wuxian’s body quakes as Lan Zhan’s tongue brushes against his own, his third eye opening as he brings his hands up to run along the sharp line of Lan Zhan’s jaw. 

However, all good things must come to an end and Lan Zhan is retreating back to his seat far too soon for Wei Wuxian’s liking. 

His hands are still hovering mid-air where they were cupping Lan Zhan’s cheeks when Lan Zhan breaks the silence. 

“All better now.” 

“Huh??”

Lan Zhan frowns at him, “I kissed it better for you.” He turns back to his meal. 

Wei Ying slams his hands down on the table and literally jumps over it, coming to a rest when he finds himself straddling Lan Zhan’s legs on the other side. 

“Do it again.”

[blindmagdalena]

Firstly I hope you’re feeling better after your flu shot and booster shot💛

Eat Your Ego, Honey is an immaculate story but chapter six and seven had me punching the air because of how good they were.

They had me going feral because of how well written they were. The “it’s my birthday line” and then when Homelander was stuttering trying to explain that he can’t sleep in his clothes. I am a huge fan of the headcanon that Homelander has sensory issues because it would make sense given that his senses are superpowered or at least his hearing and smell are superpowered.

But I have to ask how far do you think Homelander would go to keep his s/o in his life? Like if his s/o did not want anything else to do with him but he was already unhealthily attached to them.

oh my god this is so unbelievably kind. i'm terribly sorry for the delayed reply. i wanted to be able to give a proper response. 🖤

thank you so very much!! eat your ego is very near and dear to my heart, so this really does mean a lot. i know oc x canon content doesn't have the same broad appeal as x canon or x reader, but using an oc has really allowed me to tell exactly the story i wanted to tell, and i'm so glad folks are enjoying the ride with me.

totally agree with the sensory issues!! he just has so many very specific little isms. it makes perfect sense to me.

as for your question... he'd go pretty fucking far. we've seen some fairly intense examples of this in canon, particularly with Maeve.

i do have a fic that leans into this, actually. this nameless breakup fic, which I really should add to my pinned and expand on because it's probably my favorite i've done when it comes to darker "meanlander" content. mind the tags!

i have a couple of wips in the works where i want to slowburn a good relationship with Homelander going sour, and what that would actually mean for the reader when he is simply Not willing to let them go. obviously he'll delude himself into whatever he wants to believe simply because he can. there's a sense of truly terrifying helplessness in being loved by someone as powerful as Homelander. there's really nowhere you could run and no one who could protect you from his attention. he doesn't actually have to do all that much. he can just show up and... take you. simple as that. put you where he wants you and tell you this is how it is.

he can be patient. you'll come to your senses eventually.

[tater-tot-jr]

I’m making this specifically at the request of @anonym-potato

Anyway, HSR 2.5 yapping. (Spoilers, duh.)

So, that was pretty neat. It wasn’t perfect, and had more glaringly obvious flaws than the last few patches, but it was enjoyable all around. I already know there are gonna be people calling this patch trash. It’s not. Don’t listen to them.

To get down to brass tacks, let’s talk about a few things that really stood out to me. The beginning was very very strong. Feixiao mentoring Yanqing was sweet, and it was funny to watch Danny get dragged back to prison for a third time. It was also nice to get some explanation about the situation with Hoolay’s imprisonment and learn just a tad bit more about what Dan Heng went through. Those three definitely had the side story of the patch, but they served their purpose well.

Before we go further I’d like to talk about some of the issues I had. They didn’t ruin my experience, but they were noticeable enough for me to talk about it. That Hoolay fight was super fucking hard, right? My friends (who have much better teams than I do and have actually put money into the game) also agree it was strangely difficult. I felt like he did too much damage to you and didn’t take enough damage, and that made his whole fight really clunky to play. Additionally, the pacing was a little wonky. Some sections felt like they were too early or too late in the story. The biggest example is the conclusion to the Dan Heng/Jing Yuan/Lingsha story. It felt a little forced and out of place. Although the actual content of the mission was great. Dan Heng just fucking chucking his spear at Taron after he had just spent forever talking about how they wouldn’t dare break the dragon people code was so funny.

Let’s talk characters. Yanqing finally got to complete his arc, and he got a massive W. His growth in 2.4 and 2.5 has been a highlight of both patches. I like how dedicated he is, I like how he’s really seemed to grow up. He had some really badass moments. He probably landed the single biggest blow on Hoolay we’ve ever seen, barring self inflicted wounds. I’m just happy he finally got to grow into himself a little more, if we don’t see much more of him I won’t be upset. He had a satisfying conclusion to his arc.

Okay okay listen, I know this was supposed to be Feixiao’s patch. I know. She was great! We got to learn a little bit more about her and her lore, and I think everyone loves our lacking general. But… she had her patch stolen lmao. Jiaoqiu was 2.5’s baby, he was the bitch of the hour, he was the star of the show. I’m not even mad about it either. Shit was peak.

Jiaoqiu’s arc with Hoolay was the best part of this patch. It was so hard to watch. They really didn’t pull their punches. I mean some of the things they choose to put Jiaoqiu through… Since you’ve gotten this far I don’t care about spoiling you. The way the choose to end his story in 2.5 was tragic. I was sure they were actually going to kill him, I was losing my mind. Him drinking the poison because he knew that Hoolay would want to drink his blood is so unbelievably badass. If he had actually died from that I don’t think anyone would be bashing the writing. I’ve already seen some debate about if they should’ve actually killed him, or if his survival is more interesting. Personally I like keeping him alive as a choice, specifically because they took his sight. The more I thought about that the more I realized how cruel it is. He’s a doctor, and a cook. You can’t really be a doctor while blind, and he probably couldn’t cook meals with the level of complexity he’d like. Not only that, but he’s clearly deeply traumatized by the experience. Wondering aloud if Feixiao is really speaking to him or if it’s a trick to kill him. He said he was content but honest to god I don’t believe him. I don’t think those are the words or the tone of someone who is actually at peace with their decision.

And his VA? Hello?? Brother must’ve had rent due or something because goddamn he killed it. Jiaoqiu kept getting more afraid, injured, and miserable as the story progressed and his VA managed to portray that without going over the top or sounding hammy. There was so much emotion in his voice, it was crazy. That was an all time great HSR vocal performance.

Those are most of my thoughts for now. I suppose I’ll probably be back for 2.6.

[hiswordsarekisses]

“Hailed as the wisest King in history, we might question that, just based on his 1000 wives story!

But it’s a tender story, this King Solomon.

His father, the adored King David, had made one of his greatest mistakes.

He had committed adultery and had the woman’s husband killed.

Not a bright shining moment for anyone, let alone a king. A child was born from that adultery and little Daniel died. Solomon was born next.

Scripture says something about Solomon, it doesn’t say about any other baby.

…..”She bore a son, and called his name Solomon; and the Lord loved him.” (2 Samuel 12:24b)

Solomon is a derivative of the Hebrew word “Shalom” which means Peace.

God had said Solomon would be a man of peace, so he could build the Temple.

A place of God’s Presence.

While we may see our spiritual life as warfare here, let is always be mindful that the Presence of God is Peace.

Solomon was so special to God, that God sent a word to his parents that His nickname for Solomon was “Jedidiah” which means: “Beloved of the Lord”. Isn’t that beautiful?

Solomon was incredibly wise, unbelievably wealthy, and did remarkable things for his country. He was admired and respected

far beyond his kingdom. He wrote like his father, so we have many songs and proverbs from him, a book about life, and even a book on spiritual romance.

He did complete a fine palace for him and those wives, and of course, he built that glorious Temple. He reigned 40 years and actually died quite young at 55 years old.

But Solomon’s greatest battle as a man of peace, was the very thing God specifically warned him about early on.

Unbelieving ungodly wives.

God still tells us not to be unequally yoked. A Believer must marry a Believer.

That is still Scriptural today:

“Do not be unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship does righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness?” (2 Corinthians 6:13)

But like many people, Solomon did not obey God in that area of his life.

You can tell from his proverbs he learned a lot from those experiences.

While I believe Solomon left God for a season, I believe he’s also in heaven today, because of the last verse in his book, Ecclesiastes 12:13-14:

“This is the end of the matter; all hath been heard: Fear God, and keep His commandments; for this is the whole duty of man. For God will bring every work into judgment, with every hidden thing, whether it be good, or whether it be evil.”

He concluded his book with full recognition of understanding the fear of God, that he would answer to God.

Solomon teaches all of us that no matter how wise, wealthy, or powerful

we may be, we can still make major mistakes in our personal devotion to Christ. We can still choose things and people who will take us away from God. We can still want the excess of sin. Maybe it’s not in every area of our lives, but maybe in one. Maybe it’s secret. Maybe it went viral.

Because God loved Solomon so much, I believe God loves us so much. No matter where we fail Him, and we all have our places, He still waits for us to recognize thd truth.

No matter where our greatest place of learning may be, God still desires the beauty of holiness, purity and purpose.

The sin I battle most, might not be an issue for you at all. What tempts you, may not be a glimpse for me. But we have to look at each other with grace and love, knowing God’s purpose for us all, is bigger than our sin.

Even though Solomon was very wise, he still made stupid mistakes. Remember that, when you want to hate yourself or somebody else for that really dumb sin.

It’s not wisdom or wealth or position that keep us from falling into sin. It’s our walk with God. Our remaining in Christ.

We all may struggle remaining at times. We can’t hate another person, just because their sin is different than ours. God perfects that which concerns us,

is what He says. We don’t have to do the perfecting of each other.

To know Christ and make Him known gives us a purpose like no other. May we live with grace and purpose, firmly remaining in Christ.”

~AnnStewartPorter

[hypnofur1]

My Life as a Hypno-Fur Queen: Chapter 3

by Hypnofur

I had such a hang over the night after the Biltmore experience. Both an actual, alcohol dehydration induced hang over, and kind of a mental one too. I can’t believe I made my husband, and a perfect stranger lick their own cum off my legs and the floor. That was crazy. Too crazy. I knew I had gone too far.

I had Nick take me home the next day. We never did anything about transferring the mini van to my hard luck sister Denise. We just went home and I slept for like 20 hours. Nick was great. He explained to my Mom that we wouldn’t need her for the rest of the weekend, and just made an excuse that I had come down with a bug. He then took care of the boys for Saturday and Sunday without bothering me at all. I didn’t like hypnotically force him to do that, he just did it because he was a good guy, and my husband who loved me. I had to get back to that. I had to get away from this crazy hypno dominatrix stuff. It was all too much.

I didn’t even wake up until like mid day Sunday. For a moment, when I first awoke in my beautiful house, in my own bed, I heard the laughter of my boys down stairs, and I knew Cindy was back. It felt great. It felt right. Warm, safe, pure, good. But then the phone rang. It was my sister Denise.

“Hi Den” I said as my eyes rolled. She immediately went on and on about the mini van. Why didn’t I drop it off, etc. So annoying. I mean, I know I went back on my word, but like, it was an unbelievably nice favor to just GIVE her a car, so why was she being so annoying about it when it didn’t instantly work out perfectly like she wanted? Because she was awful Denise, that’s why.

I told her I would figure out something for her car problems, and I hung up the phone. A thought of hypnotizing Doug Stumbly to give my sister a car at my command briefly flashed through my head of course, but I quickly shooed it away. I didn’t want to go there. I couldn’t go there.

That night I made us all a nice, healthy grilled chicken dinner. Nick and the boys then watched some sports thing, and I watched it with them. Well, I was in the same room as them at least. I was scrolling through my phone. I found myself on the Stumbly motor group website. Then I caught myself. No! I went back to Instagram. Because I had gone to the site, an ad for Stumbly Motors popped up on my IG. Argh! The stupid social media algorithm was pushing me to turn back into an evil hypnotist as I was trying so hard to be Cindy the caring wife and mom.

But, through what I felt was an unbelievable amount of will power, I made it through the night without any hints of ‘Cynthia’. I was ‘Cindy’ all night. It felt good. It was good. Boring, but good. Well, good-ish. I couldn’t help but notice that Nick hadn’t brought up what happened in Providence at all. He was acting like nothing happened. That was interesting, but probably better. Again, a little bit boring, but probably better.

Jorge the carpenter showed up the next day, as it was now Monday. I could tell I freaked him out with my little performance last week. I laughed to myself as he politely, but timidly, scurried by. It was an evil laugh, so I scolded myself.

I did pretty good the rest of the morning. I got caught up on PTA emails and called my mom and thanked her for coming on Friday. She asked if I was feeling better. In answered with an exuberant “yes”. After all, I was feeling a lot better. I had gone a little bit off the deep end, but now I was back on the straight and narrow.

It wasn’t long before the boys came home from school. They were happy, and I was happy to see them. They asked what was for dinner. Earlier in the morning, I had considered making pork chops. Now though, that seemed like so much work. Ugh, I wasn’t into that.

I texted Nick and told him to bring home wings from the wings place. The boys loved those, and they had a great salad that I liked too. It took Nick a while to respond, which annoyed me.

I have to admit, I was secretly hoping he’d respond wirh “yes Cynthia”, but when he finally did, it was just an “ok”. That was underwhelming… but good. Good for sure. That was better. We had a marriage, a partnership. I wanted a loving husband, not a hypnotized slave to my will. I did, really. But “ok”? That’s it? …. Wait. Nope, I wasn’t going to go down this road.

Jorge the Carpenter came down all nervous. He was explaining how he couldn’t hang the last mirror because of mounting hardware or something, and how he had to leave it on its side up against the wall. I could see that he was afraid to look into my eyes. I was actually getting off on how afraid he was. I was the popular girl in high school, and I admit, I liked when the nerds were afraid of me. High school. I had to think about high school! More to the point, my high school (and middle school) aged boys. I had to think of them, not tormenting a carpenter. I thanked Jorge and let him go, telling him he could worry about the mirror later.

I focused on the boys and caught up with what was going on with them. Well, at least with what few words they’d say. They were teen boys, they weren’t really over communicative with their feelings or experiences. So, the whole conversation lasted like five minutes. Then I was back on my phone. Stupid Instagram kept showing my Stumbly Motor Group ads. His marketing person must have paid extra for like the super algorithm package or something.

I thought about whoever that marketing person might be. Probably some young woman fresh out of college. She probably thought of Doug Stumbly as some stately captain of industry. Which he was, I guess. That marketing person had no idea that her rich, powerful boss had spent Friday night deeply hypnotized playing with himself on his knees at my command. I felt my pussy tingle as I thought about that. No! No, I wasn’t going to go there.

Between that moment and dinner, I did really good. I was cheerful mom and wife Cindy. The boys were thrilled about take out wings on a Monday night. Nick asked why we were doing take out (as opposed to me making something). I was going to come up with a better excuse then “I didn’t want to cook because it was boring”, but I was having trouble thinking of one, so I asked him to pour me a glass of wine. (Asked, not commanded.) I was doing everything right, at least until the first drop of the white wine touched my lips.

I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. I don’t think I’m addicted to hypnotic domination either. I don’t think these things have the better of me, but I’m not entirely sure.

The boys burned through their dinner, then asked to be excused so they could start homework, which really meant video games, but I didn’t really care at that moment. I let them go. In fact, I suggested to Nick that we play a board game. That isn’t as out of the blue as it sounds, we actually have been doing this since we were dating. We both just kind of liked it.

Anyway, he was still finishing his wings and beer. He dipped one of the wings in the ranch sauce that they had given us. Now two glasses of wine in, I felt the wickedness build up inside me. “See, I knew you’d like this better than pork chops. I know you love licking up white creamy stuff.” I said with an evil smile.

He almost choked on the chicken wing “Cindy, Jesus!” He said, shocked.

“What? You obviously do. Which do you like better Nick? That ranch dressing, or your own cum?” I asked. Boy, it really didn’t take me long to flip back to evil. Maybe I do have a problem?

“Cindy, I-“ he stumbled.

“Tell me.” I commanded.

“Ranch dressing” he said.

“Well then why did you lick up your own cum?” I toyed.

“Cindy, c’mon. Stop” he pleaded.

“Tell me” I commanded again.

“Because you made me” he said. God, he almost looked scared of me. “Cindy, please. I’m still trying to even come to grips with that. I mean, this isn’t the kind of thing that we do. Is it? You had that other guy, and me… we were just…. “ he stumbled

“Say the word furs, Nick” I said calmly

“Furs” he said, still looking scared. I should have felt bad about him being scared. Instead, I like… liked it.

“Say the word hypnotized.”

“Hypnotized.” He said quietly.

“Who hypnotizes you Nick?”

“You do”

“Who is your fur queen Nick?”

“You are Cynthia”

“Good. Now, go pour me another glass of wine. “

“Yes Cynthia” he said.

Was he hypnotized? Yes? No? Maybe. He was dominated by my hypnotic power, that was the big picture answer, and that made my pussy tingle. I smiled as he handed me my third glass of wine. I was already a bit buzzed, for sure. “Sit on your knees next to me.” I told him. I could see his erection through his pants. I was afraid the boys would see his tent pole, though I may have been a bit more drunk than I thought at that point, because them seeing him kneeling next to me would also have been pretty weird I guess.

I was working through glass number three pretty quickly. I was getting hot now. Not just like, sexy hot, but legit hot. I took off my sweater and blouse. I had a white, cotton tank top underneath. Then I kicked off my jeans, leaving only my white cotton panties. Nick didn’t say anything, but his eyes were wide as he stared at me. I smiled at him as I confidently walked up to my closet, half dressed.

I stumbled upstairs, finishing my third glass of wine. I grabbed some furs and threw them on the ground, then plopped down. I saw the mirror Jorge was talking about leaning up on the wall in front of me. Feeling wicked, and sexy, I sent a picture to Doug Stumbly. I had far less concern than I should about sending a picture of myself in a tank top and my panties to a man I barely knew. It wasn’t safe, but I ddin’t care.

I took the picture and hit send. Within a few seconds, I could see that he saw it. I couldn’t believe he had his read receipts left on. What a boomer.

Doug: Hello! Lovely picture.

Cynthia: What do u c in the picture Douglas?

Doug: A lovely lady that I made a mistake with.

Uh, not the answer I was looking for. Jeez, these guys lick up their own cum at my hypnotic command one time and they get all freaked out about it.

Cynthia: What else do u c in the picture Douglas?

Doug: I really don’t think this is a good idea. The other night got out of hand I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.

WTF? I send him a picture of me, drunk in basically my underwear, surrounded by furs and it doesn’t do the trick? I was getting pissed. Oh, wait, the furs aren’t white. This weirdo and his incredibly specific fetish only goes for white furs.

Cynthia: Do u c any white furs, Doulgas?

Doug: No.

Cynthia: Does that seem right? Would u like 2 see me in a a white fur, Douglas?

(after a small pause) Doug: Yes

Cynthia: I know u would. Do u want 2 c me in 1?

Doug: I shouldn’t

OK, now we were getting somewhere. I knew I just needed to find the right button to push.

Cynthia: Douglas, I want u to jerk yourself off thinking of me hypnotizing u while I am wearing a white fur. Do as I command.

With that, I threw my phone on the hardwood floor. Not a good way to treat expensive electronics, I know, but I was drunk and careless at that moment.

“Nick, come here!” I slurred loudly. He arrived very quickly. He still looked nervous. That turned me on.

“You like eating cum so much, come eat mine. Do it now my furslave!” I told him. Luckily, he thought to close the door behind him as he rushed to obey my orders and went straight to my pussy.

The power I had over him was as intoxicating as the wine. It was like rockets going off in my head when he licked and sucked my pussy slit and his tongue fucked my hole! I held his head and slowly fucked his face as he worked on my cunt with his mouth and tongue for about a minute. That was all it took to have me grunting and moaning and panting and crying out with my pleasure. God, in retrospect, I hope those videogames were goddamned good that night and kept the boys occupied!

Then another minute of him rubbing his mouth all over my pussy and I screamed and I was cumming and cumming and cumming. Feeling my orgasm sweep over me until it took over my entire mind body and soul and I arched up high off the floor and climaxed. I mean I climaxed like I have never done before. My hips were thrusting up and Nick was holding my ass in his hands and licking.

The hypnosis, the control, the power, and quite frankly the darkness over took me. I was Cynthia the Hypnotic Fur Queen and I was fucking evil in that moment. I looked down at him, not as my loving husband and partner, but as my victim. My hypnotized slave.

“You are mine!” I screamed at him as another orgasm overtook me. When he felt me begin to cum he sucked my pussy, all of it into his mouth!

"Yeah! OH GOD! YES! Eat my cum my slave. Slave Slave!!!!!", I know I screamed it at him.

My slave knew what he was doing and he was already sucking it and I was fucking his face as hard as I could. While I held his head with both hands and pushed against it shoving his mouth harder on my hole He didn't resist or fight me. He let me do whatever I needed to do until I had finished cumming. His Queen’s pleasure was all that mattered.

And… then I passed out.

At least, I think I did. I don’t remember anything from the end of the climax to waking up in my bed the next morning, at like 10:30. Nick must have gotten the kids to be that night, and then up and out for school the next morning. He was such a good Dad, and such a good hypnotized pussy licker. No! Good Dad, I had to leave it at good Dad. OMG, I had such a headache.

I got up and started my hangover cure. Tea, asprin, toast, etc. I was starting to feel better as I started the last part of the process, a nice warm bath. While in there, my mind stumbled across a question. If I passed out last night, and never ‘woke Nick up’, was he still hypnotized right now? Was he able to focus on his work, or was he just sitting there, awaiting my next command? The thought of it turned me on. The memory of him submissively working my pussy with his slave mouth turned me on even more.

I fingered myself in the bathtub.

Holy shit. I was like a crazed sex addict.

Fortunately, that was enough to get me through the rest of the morning, and allowed me to be more or less normal when my mom called. She was of course acting like Denise’s freakin’ advocate again, going on and on about the fucking car. My mood was totally shot. I knew I had to handle this car thing for Denise, or they were just going to nag me to death about it. Fuck. Fine. Maybe I’d just handle it today.

It was like 2:00 at this point. I called Nick at the office and told him to come home. It was freaking pouring out, but I didn’t care, I had made up my mind to go down to Providence and handle this car thing. I was putting on my make up and really doing myself up as the boys got home. I just let them play video games right away with some Doritos I bought them. Fuck it, I wasn’t preparing carrots and hummus and filling out the homework chart today. I was just not feeling the ‘mom’ thing. The afternoon was about preparing for a seduction.

Nick seemed… different when he got home. Not hypnotized, persay. He was talking to the boys, and acting normal around them. But something interesting happened when they weren’t around. He got very quiet. He didn’t complain or even ask why I made him come home early from work. Testing a theory, I abruptly told him, “Nick, pour me a glass of wine”

“Yes Cynthia” he said calmly, then immediately went to pour it.

Wow. I was still Cynthia to him. That was fascinating. I wanted to explore this, but Denise annoyingly called me about the car thing again. Then my mom did. Jesus, she was like Denise’s fucking agent sometimes. This had to be the last day of this. I told her I was going to handle it, but that she had to come watch the boys and figure out dinner. She agreed easily.

The glass of wine was nice, but I knew I should stop there. I went to go pick out an outfit as I was putting together a plan. I decided to go with a “rich WASPY” look. I grabbed a cashmere sweater with gold buttons that I had bought for a conference trip that I joined Nick on a few years ago. I knew it made my boobs look great, while still looking classy. It paired nicely with a chanel skirt and sexy, but not slutty, heels. I heard the rain coming down as I grabbed the beautiful silver and white fur that first caught Doug’s eye. Fur doesn’t do well wet, so that was going to be a problem. Refusing to let obstacles stop me, I went with a not quite as nice one that I had grabbed off ebay. I figured it would be enough to do the trick. My mom asked why I was dressed so fancy. I told her I read in a negotiating book that it helped to look rich when buying a car. In truth, it was probably the exact opposite, but she bought it, so I didn’t fight it. I quietly told Nick to bring the bottle of wine and a glass in the car for me while I distracted my mom with details.

The ride down was so strange. It was like Nick was my chauffer, not my husband. It’s not a short ride from our house to Providence either, it was like two hours, especially with the rain. We finally arrived at the Stumbly Motors offices, which were in the downtown. It was winter, so it was dark by the time we got there, but thankfully, not yet 5:00. I had Nick drop me off at the door. I instructed him to go park and wait for me to signal him. When I got out of the car and stood up, I really felt the effects of the wine.

I went inside the very nice office building. There was a security desk at the front. Of course the guards were all checking me out as they directed me to the Stumbly Offices. As I approached, there were glass doors with a young, attractive receptionist sitting at the desk beyond. That didn’t surprise me at all, that’s exactly who I expected to be working at a car dealership’s headquarters. I greeted her with the air of superiority she likely expected based on my outfit. She assumed I was a big deal, so she didn’t even ask why I wanted to talk to Mr. Stumbly, and just sent me to his office down the hall.

That’s where things got a little tricky. He had a secretary sitting at a desk right outside of his office. Unlike a pretty 20-something that didn’t try that hard, this was a woman in like her 50’s. Not ideal. She looked up from her computer at me with an inquisitive look. I had to get ahead of this situation.

“I’m here to see Mr. Stumbly.” I said adamantly as I approached, never slowing down my gait.

“He’s in a meeting Ms….” The woman said.

“Davidson.” I answered, “I’ll wait. He’ll know what this is about. I don’t want coffee, tea, or water.” I said as I just marched right into his office, right by the shocked older woman. To be honest, I didn’t know if this was going to work or not. For that matter, I didn’t know if the meeting Doug was in was taking place in his office. He had a big wooden door that was closed, but thankfully not locked. I went right inside and closed the door behind me. No one was inside, so apparently the meeting was in a conference room or something.

I held my breath for a minute inside the office, thinking the old bag was going to barge in and kick me out, but that didn’t happen. A minute turned into two, which turned into five. When I was finally confident that she wasn’t coming in, I immediately started to get impatient waiting for Doug. How long was this stupid meeting?

I finally heard muffled voices outside the thick wood door. I knew that the hag was trying to explain how I just barged in. My heart jumped as I saw the door handle start to turn as he entered. But then, I felt like I could hear his heart jump as he saw me standing behind his desk, a white fur coat hung by my elbows. Staring right at him with my seductive, dangerous eyes.

“Hello Douglas” I purred.

I immediately saw his eyes flash with emotion. Surprise, anger, and fear all mixed in. I didn’t know which of the three would win the triangular tug of war.

“You can’t be here! I can’t believe you did this!” he said in a ‘yelling whisper’. Looked like anger won, or at least took an early lead.

I’ll admit, his rage unnerved me a bit. I feel like I did a really good job of masking that though. On the outside, I exuded full, unshakeable, sultry confidence. “What, you don’t think I look good in this white fur, Douglas?” I said, immediately leaning on the fetish thing. (I know guys)

“No, I mean, yes you do. It’s not that…. “ he stammered, before regaining his pissed off whisper voice. “This is my place of business!”

“Yes, I know that Douglas. That’s why I am here.” I said cryptically. I was about to get rolling with my plan, but he interrupted.

“I want you to leave!” he whisper demanded.

Silly Dougie. It wasn’t going to be that easy. “You don’t want me to stroke your temples with this white fur for a few minutes first?” I asked coyly.

He paused. Then he paused more. “No” he said weakly.

“Sit down here at your desk Douglas” I said, pointing to his large leather desk chair that I was now standing behind.

He hesitated.

“Douglas, I want you to sit down now. Obey me.” I said, calmly but authoritatively. His legs listened to my call and moved him over to the seat. I softly and gently helped him into the chair. I wasted no time in slowly moving my soft, fox fur sleeves up his the side of his face. I then purposefully moved my warm finger tips to his temples and started stroking. I made sure to keep the fur still in contact with his head. I was very deliberate in this in order to keep his fetish working for me. I could tell just from the sound of his breathing that I was having an effect on him, so I started in with my hypnotic induction before he could even speak.

“I want you to take a deep breath in and feel yourself relax. I want you to feel your arms so relaxed, so weightless. I’ll just help you relax quickly, then I’ll be on my way. No one will suspect anything you have nothing to worry about so you can just sit here and enjoy the feeling of the white fur, and the feeling of the soft touch of my fingertips and my feminine voice.” She said, trying to put him at ease and focus on the enjoyment of it all.

“So, you can just go ahead and feel all of the anxiety just slip away from you. A feeling of pure contentment, of pure tranquilty comes over you. You just feel so wonderful being here with me. So relaxed. Just letting yourself drift into a deep state of relaxation, just like you did the other night. And it feels so wonderful, and so relaxing that you just let yourself float into a wonderful, deep state of hypnosis. You know that feeling now. You’ve been craving it, I’m sure. It’s here now. I’m here now. So you feel so deeply relaxed, so peacefully heavy. In fact, I want you to imagine that you are in a beautiful chair, completely covered in white fur. I’m behind you, stroking your temples, just like I am now.” I said, getting an idea. It was a twist on a pretty standard thing, but if figured it would get him going. Then, at the last minute, I decided to spice it up.

“And I want you to imagine that you are naked Douglas. You are naked, but you are on the soft white fur chair, and you have an incredibly thick and soft white fox fur blanket over you. I have enveloped your body in fur as I am enveloping your mind. Mmmm, can you feel that Douglas?” I asked.

“Yess” he answered dreamily.

“Good, so good. That makes me happy. In front of you is a window. A giant window that looks out to a beautiful sky. The feel of the soft fur on you, the feeling of my fingertips, and my soft voice in your ears all make you feel so wonderful and relaxed. They make you feel so amazing. And as you drift deeper and deeper into a wonderful state of relaxation, you feel so wonderful and relaxed. You so warm and soft in the fur. So wonderful and relaxed. No worries, just in my thrall. Completely worry free as you let go to me more and more. Now, I want you to look up and see how beautiful the wonderful blue sky is before you. Just relax more and more as you continue to look higher and higher into the deep blue sky, as all of the fluffy clouds are before you. There is no anxiety, there is only a wonderful feeling of contentment flowoing over you . As you just float deeper and deeper, you feel all of the tension in your body simply dissolve away. It is the type of profound relaxation that you can never really appreciate until you have moments like this. When you can feel the sound of my voice relaxing you deeper and deeper. Into a deep state where this is no stress, no anxiety. There is only relaxation, and comfort. A place of wonderful relaxation. A place of wonderful hypnosis. My hypnosis.

And as you drift even deeper now into my hypnosis, you realize that you just want to follow my voice further and further. You realize that you want to go deeper and deeper into this hypnosis, for me. You want to stare so deep into my sky. You want to feel so wonderful and relaxed. As you let yourself drift into a deep, deep state of hypnosis. I want you to look out into the horizon, before you. Where you see the land and the sky meet. You see a beautiful setting sun. Just in the horizon, casting a wonderful and beautiful cast of light over the horizon, over the earth, over the sky. And you just feel so wonderful and relaxed as you just drift into a deep state of tranquility. I am going to count down from the number five to the number zero, and as I do the sun will set. The sun will be completely below the horizon, and you well feel so relaxed and so wonderful. With every number that I say, this feeling will just get a thousand times deeper, and a thousand times stronger. You’ll feel the need to listen to my voice and take in everything that I say. You know it through the power of the sound of my voice that you have been brought into this wonderful state of relaxation. Into this wonderful state of my hypnosis. So you just want to listen to my voice more, and slip deeper into relaxation, and under my spell.

Five, the sun slowly begins to set. And as it does, you know it is time for your subconscious mind to just listen to my voice. And it is time for your conscious mind to just sleep, and go into a deep state of hypnotic slumber

Four. You know it is time to relax and just listen to my voice. It is time to relax and just take in everything that I say so that you can just drift deeper and deeper and relax into a state of deep hypnosis.

Three. You just feel so wonderful and so good, completely surrounded by the white fur. The sun is just setting further down the horizon. Further and further. And as it does, the lights just get more beautiful, more comfortable. They get more soothing. They get dimmer and dimmer, but as they do, you get calmer and calmer.

Two. You see the beautiful sun set. The beautiful rays, the reds, the oranges. Even purples. Every color you see in a sunset, and the colors are so majestic. It is so beautiful, and you just want to listen to my voice more and more and more and go deeper and deeper into hypnosis for me.

One. The sun barely has its crest over its horizon. And you know that when it sets completely, its going to be time to have your conscious mind completely asleep, and have your subconscious mind just listen to everything that I say. Because everything that I say is so important, and you just want to accept everything that I say.

Zero. You know that you just need to obey my voice. The sun is completely set, and you see a beautiful night sky all around you. It feels so beautiful and relaxing to breath in nice and deeply and relax completely. You know it’s time to just listen to my voice. You know it’s time to just take in everything that I say. So just relax and drift deeper into a deep state of relaxation.” I said, knowing full well he was completely deep.

I’ll admit, I didn’t know whether the old bag at the desk was going to barge in or not, so I was glad to have gotten to this point, as he was now totally under, and it wouldn’t matter if a band of elephants ran through. Still, I was glad I didn’t have to deal with her. I continued, getting now to the exciting parts.

“As you sit there listening to the wonderful sound of my voice. You know you just want to take in everything that I say. And everything that I say becomes a wonderful and perfect truth in your brain. You know this, because it is through the power of the soft touch of the white fur, the soothing feel of my fingertips, and the sound of my voice that you have been brought to such a wonderful place of hypnosis for me. You know it through the power of these you have been brought to such a deep place of relaxation and pleasure, where your mind is completely open to everything that I say.

You know in this deep state of hypnosis, that you want to listen to my voice and accept everything that I say. And you know the first thing that you want me to say, and that you want to accept into your brain is that you know that I am your Queen, your Fur Queen. You love me being in control of you. You love being my furslave. You love it when I’m in control. You love it when you just obey me and serve me. In whatever I say, whatever I tell you . You just listen to the sound of my voice. Just giving you any order that I say, any command that I give you. You feel so addicted to being so deeply hypnotized by your Fur Queen. To be so completely relaxed. To be so completely owned by me. That’s what you know. That’s what you desperately, desperately want. So wonderful, so relaxing. And that’s what you want. To be so comfortable, so relaxed, so hypnotized. Very deeply hypnotized and obedient to me. You are a loyal subject to your Fur Queen Douglas.

You’ll give me anything I want. Anything at all. Won’t you Douglas? Say yes Cynthia”

“Yes Cynthia” he answered. God, that got me so turned on. I felt my dominant streak flare up.

“Get out of the chair, get on your knees. Face me” I commanded sharply. As he exited his big leather desk chair, I sat down in it. I slowly and seductively crossed my legs in front of him as he stared at me from his now kneeling position. God, this all felt so powerful.

“What is the most expensive car you have on your lot?” I said, definitely feeling cocky.

“The Mercedes Benz EQE” he replied docilly.

“Is it a sports car?” I asked. I don’t know cars that well.

“yes Cynthia” he said. I momentarily fantasized about whipping around like that. I’m sure it only had two seats, and no way for me to bring the kids, or my mom, or groceries or anything, but Cynthia didn’t care about that. Those were Cindy problems. Maybe I’d make him give me that? Then again, I live in stupid Massachusetts, where it is winter like six months of the year. Getting stuck on a hill, or sliding into a telephone pole was kind of both a Cindy problem and a Cynthia problem.

“What is your most expensive SUV?”

“The Mercedes GLC AMG” he answered.

“Mmmm. Mercedes. Don’t you think I’d look amazing in a Mercedes, Douglas?” I said, batting my eyes at him.

“Yes Cynthia” he said, I could tell he was so deeply infatuated with me.

“Good. Have someone get it. I want to drive it home tonight” I commanded.

“I-I can’t” he said weakly.

“Why not??” I asked, very annoyed that he didn’t obey without question.

“Paperwork, registry, especially for out of state… I’m sorry, but it will take at least a day” he said, almost fearful.

Nick and I have bought cars before, so I knew this was true. I realized I’d have to come back tomorrow. Probably best, I was actually pretty drunk, so filling out paperwork might not have been the best plan… nor was driving myself home. Ok, I guess it was time to wrap this up. “Who do you serve Douglas?” I said, looking deep in his eyes.

“I serve you my Fur Queen” he said, likely so glad I was not going to lose my shit over the paperwork stuff.

“Again”

“I serve you my Fur Queen”

“Are you hard, Douglas?” I asked, getting a aroused again by his chants of submission.

“Yes Cynthia” he said.

“Good, but I don’t want you to come unless I give you permission, do you understand? And you aren’t going to be able to cum until you see your Fur Queen drive away in the Mercedes, do you understand?” I said, really feeling my power. God I was so turned on.

“Yes Cynthia” he replied like an obedient little puppy.

“Good. Make it happen” I said flatly. And with that, I just got up and walked by him, right out the door. The cranky old bat at the desk scowled at me as I walked by. No matter, I’d have that bitch fired if she looked at me wrong one more time. That thought made me feel even more powerful.

I was completely basking in that power as Nick picked me up that the door. Again, he was more my chauffer than my husband. He didn’t say a word. He was just like a faithful servant. My servant. There to fucking serve me. Fuck, I loved that. Rhode Island is very small, so we soon crossed over the Massachusetts border on the highway. I was getting so turned on thinking about all of my power. I told Nick to pull into a rest area I saw a sign for.

There wasn’t a McDonalds or a convenience store at this rest area, it was only for people that needed to park for a minute. I directed him to a space where there weren’t many other cars. It was dark, cold, and the rain was coming down hard. No one was out of their car, and the few cars that were there had fogged up windows, probably from people reading maps or answering texts.

I turned to Nick as I opened the Mini Van door and said, “I want you to come please me. Obey me now!” And with that I stepped out of our family car, then stepped out of my panties, letting them fall to the parking lot ground. Nick came around as instructed and kneeled in front of my pussy. I lifted my posh chanel skirt up to give him access, and he went to town.

My husband, my one time partner, was now my hypnotized, obedient slave, licking my pussy outside in a public rest area in the freezing cold rain, as my hands dug into his hair. It was so wrong, but so decadent. I noticed one of the the fogged up windows a few spaces away suddenly had a hand wiping it clear. I stared into that car and laughed wickedly as I enjoyed Nick’s inexperienced, but enthusiastic tongue on my clit.

Then my face got hit with a very bright spotlight. The light was rolling towards me. I soon realized it was the side spotlight from a police car. Feeling sassy beyond sassy, I just told Nick to keep going as I stared down the officer as they were rolling by. Well, I think I stared down the officer, I really couldn’t see a thing with the spotlight in my face. But, my peripheral vision did pick up the fact that there was steam coming off my body and skin in the freezing cold rain. I thought about how that must look to the officer. A beautiful, rich looking woman getting eaten out as the rain hit her and she was literally steaming hot. It was like something from a music video, or a porn.

“Let’s go hun, you can’t work here” the officer said from his car.

I didn’t know what he meant. What did he mean work? Oh shit, he thought I was a prostitute. Ok, I guess that wasn’t a wildly outlandish assumption. I was going to just get back in the mini van and go… but like I said, sassy beyond sassy. “I’m not working” I said loudly to the officer through the rain, never breaking my gaze of where I thought he was. “He’s my husband”

“Sir, can you please get up?” The officer said to my hypnotized husband, who had not stopped pleasuring me orally.

“He only hears my voice” I said. Fuck, that was so hot to say.

“Sir. Get up now!” the officer shouted.

“He’s deeply hypnotized. He only hears and obeys my voice” I told the officer again, still with my wicked, sexy stare and all the steam coming up around me.

The State Trooper said nothing in return, instead the spotlight turned from me and went to our license plate. Nick kept working me at my command. After a few minutes, the officer got out of his car and approached us. He was very tall. Looked to be early thirties.

“Mrs. Davidson, I don’t know what kind of game you and Mr. Davidson are playing here”, he said, clearly getting our names off of the our plates that he ran in his cruiser, “but this is a public rest area. I can arrest you for this.” He said… but not that firmly. Usually Statie’s tried to intimidate. I thought one was going to shoot me on 93 once because I was going like 11 miles over the limit. But this guy wasn’t doing that. Hmmm.

“Nick, stand up, see only me.” I said flatly, looking at the officer right in the eye as I did so. I straightened my skirt as Nick stood and looked at me. I looked at the officer’s name badge. “You are intrigued by this, aren’t you… Trooper Bates?” I said, raising an eyebrow.

“Ma’am, I –“

“Open your mind and hear my phone number. Remember it. 978-555-6387” I said to him, interrupting whatever stuttering he was going to do.

“Nick, open my door. Pay no attention to the officer.” I said, never breaking my stare with Trooper Bates. Nick followed my orders of course, and I went back into the mini van. Trooper Bates just stood there, frozen. He was turned on by this. I knew the look by this point. That look fueled my crazy, and emboldened me. I rolled down the mini van window.

“My panties are on the ground there Trooper Bates. Pick them up, and take custody of them. Text me later this week, and I’ll tell you what your next step is.” I said before rolling up the window but still not breaking eye contact. When the window was up, I told Nick to pull away and drive home. Trooper Bates did not move. He just stood out there at that rest stop in the pouring rain, watching us drive away.

Holy shit, I was officially crazy.

And officially cold, like freezing. I was soaking wet… and I mean my clothes and hair and stuff. I turned up the heat full blast and told Nick to drive as fast as he safely could. The wine, the power rush, the adrenaline, was all catching up to me. I was exhausted.

Nick went to work the next morning, so I woke up alone. It was so fucking bright in my room. Ugh. I was hung over again. I tried to catch up mentally as to what was going on. I remembered hypnotizing Douglas in his office, a totally weird thing at a rest stop with a cop, and the fact that I needed to go back down to Stumbly Motors today to pick up the car.

So, this was an interesting time for me. I was working on my headache (food, asprin, etc), and hopped in the shower. It was very much a weekday, and I am emphasizing DAY. I felt like Cindy. But, at the same time, I felt like the further Cynthia went each time with all this craziness, the more I was like always Cynthia too. With that said, today would be a good test for Cynthia.

I threw on some of my regular clothes. A black logo t-shirt and some black jeans. It a blustery cold winter day, so wearing a fur totally made sense, and I of course chose a white one, as I was meeting with Douglas. Putting the fur on definitely increased the Cynthia vibes, but figuring out a train schedule to Providence, and working all that out was very Cindy-ish.

The train took me to the Providence train station, and I hailed a cab from there to take me to Stumbly motors. I was already in the cab when I realized I should have just commanded Doug to send a car. I guess I wasn’t that experienced a controller of people yet. That made me feel very Cindy-ish.

But then the cab driver seemed to be totally checking me out. He asked me what I did, and I told him I was a hypnotist. That made me feel very Cynthia-ish. He asked if I helped people quit smoking and stuff. I told him no, that I turned them into my obedient servants. He gave a nervous laugh while looking at me in the windshield mirror. I arched an eyebrow, as if to say “what about that do you find funny?”. He was quiet the rest of the short trip. That made me feel very Cynthia-ish. In fact, I was really feeling that was the cab pulled up. I stepped out in front of Stumbly Motors and looked up the building. Doug’s building. But then again, Doug was now mine… so in effect, this building was now mine. Stumbly Motors was now mine.

I fucking loved that…

#furfetish #femdom #femdomhypno #hypno

[autisticlancemcclain]

Should Lance have told the team earlier?

Yeah, probably. But he didn’t, so it was moot point. It was too late, now — at this point, he feels like it would be almost insulting.

Like, how the fuck is he supposed to say ‘hey, y’all. Y’know how we pilot a mecha mind-meld robot lion together? And we’re supposed to trust each other implicitly? Well! You see, twelve years ago, me and my dumbass sisters went on an adventure in a little moonpool we found. This pool happened to be magic, and now whenever I touch water I grow a fucking tail.’

Yeah. No.

Lance had the perfect opportunity to say something after the real life, genuine, actual occurrence of a mermaid planet he rescued came up in conversation. He could have dropped the bomb then. Hell, he could have removed a glove or something while he was down there and then at least Hunk would have seen!

But alas, Lance had been a bit preoccupied with, y’know, freeing a race of enslaved, brainwashed alien mermaids to be thinking that far ahead. He feels like he has an excuse for that one.

His excuse for his continued silence on the matter?

Well. He has anxiety. Also, he’s a chronic people-pleaser. He’s a little freaked about the reactions forthcoming for keeping such a huge secret, as well, so he feels like he’s trapped in a feedback loop from hell.

On top of that, the explanation of the mermaid incident is objectively humiliating. He can’t even blame genetics or a curse or anything. He just shares one brain cell with his sisters, and unfortunately they left it at home one night and were turned into creatures of myth.

All this is to say that yes, Lance fully understands that his current situation is 100% on him (well, 99% on him. Maria gets 1% of the blame for all eternity as jumping into the moonpool was her dumbass decision). Lance looks up to where Keith is standing, slack-jawed, towel dropped to the floor, staring at what is unmistakably a giant tail in place of Lance’s legs. He has not blinked in several minutes.

“Would you believe that you’re sleep deprived and this is a dream brought to you by your unyielding lust and thirst for my otherworldly form?” Lance tries.

“You’re a fish,” Keith breathes after several minutes of stunned silence.

Lance can’t help the haughty snoot, as ridiculous as he knows he’s being. “Half fish,” he corrects. “I am still very much half god of sexy. You know what, I don’t even have this thing —” he flips his tail, causing Keith to jump, which makes Lance smirk despite himself and the situation — “all the time, so technically I’m only a quarter fish. An eighth, maybe.”

“Why the fuck are you a fish?!”

Keith’s tone has quickly shifted from one of bewildered and unbelieving astonishment to one of alarm. Perhaps the movement startled his caveman brain.

“Perhaps your caveman brain was startled by the sudden movement,” Lance says out loud, fully aware he’s being a dick. “But I don’t believe that’s any of your business. I can be half fish if I so please, and you can’t stop me. Maybe I want to be half bird, next! Or half butterfly!”

“Lance, what the fuck are you talking about?”

Lance throws his hands up, and allows himself to feel some of the panic he feels brewing in his chest. “I don’t know! I’m stressed out! You weren’t supposed to be in here! I was supposed to be able to dry off before anyone saw me! I think I’m allowed to be a little nonsensical for a while!”

Lance can feel the burn of tears in his eyes, and is humiliated to feel himself begin to cry. Aw, man, fuck, is the mermaid thing not bad enough? Does he really have to fucking cry in front of his esteemed rival?

“Please don’t cry,” Keith says, visibly panicked.

Lance sobs, which prompts Keith to surge forward.

Keith carefully kneels down next to him, giving the tail a wide berth, and and hesitantly pats Lance on the shoulder. “Uh, there there?”

Lance wails harder. Oh, why couldn’t Hunk have found him? Or Coran? Or even Pidge! Why did he have to get stuck with the one who handles emotional people the way one might handle a particularly volatile and rabid squirrel?

“Uh, it’s all going to be good!” Keith tries again, increasingly frantic. “I’m not mad! Just a little surprised! I didn’t know you were a mermaid, so I think that’s justified a little! Sorry! Please stop sobbing!”

Despite the misery of the situation at large, Lance feels laughter bubbling up his throat. Maybe it’s hysteria, maybe it’s the overwhelming emotion. Maybe it’s the fact that Keith’s panicked face is always funny. Regardless, he knows that if he starts laughing right now, his tears and snot still running down his face, Keith will absolutely freak out and go get backup, and Lance would like to keep this clusterfuck of a situation on a need-to-know basis, thanks.

He takes a deep breath, and then another, trying to get his emotions under control.

Fine. This is fine. All he has to do is convince Keith to keep his mouth shut, and then he can continue to be devoured by guilt and plagued with the burdens of secrets for the rest of his time in space, which could be decades. All is well.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Lance begs the second he has the tears mostly under control.

“Why?” Keith responds automatically.

Lance blinks at him, incredulous.

“Uh, I mean, sure. I’ll keep your gigantic secret for you. No problem. I love lying to people, especially about the fact that mermaids exist on Earth. This is fine and good.”

Lance rolls his eyes, dragging a hand down his face. “Look,” he says carefully, “this is a… perilous situation. I understand that me keeping a big secret is not great. But… I’ve grown up knowing that this is a secret that could get me killed, or hurt, or worse, even.” Lance ignores Keith’s mutter of “What the fuck is worse than killed or hurt?”, continuing on his tirade. “I’m not ashamed or anything, and it’s not that I don’t trust you guys, but this is kind of a huge deal. I’ve never had to tell anyone about this before, I don’t even know where to start. Hell, I didn’t even know if anyone would’ve believed me —”

“I would’ve,” Keith interjects. At Lance’s look of confusion, he clears his throat, glancing down. “Believed you, that is. I would’ve believed you.”

“Oh,” Lance says. He doesn’t really know what to make of that, or the weird feeling it brings him. “Thanks, I guess.” That feels inadequate, somehow, but he’s not sure how else to respond.

He coughs, running a hand down his scales. “Oh, I’m almost dry,” he comments.

Now Keith is the one looking at him in confusion.

“Watch,” Lance says, and in seconds, Lance closes his eyes as he feels the familiar, tingly feeling of his body turning back human.

When he opens them again, Keith’s jaw is dropped, and he looks almost as shocked as he did walking into the pool and seeing the… situation for the first time.

“I’m only a mermaid when I’m wet, Lance explains.

Keith snaps his jaw shut, shaking his head. “I guess it can’t get any weirder,” he says idly.

Lance snorts. “Just you wait until I tell you how I got into this stupid conundrum.”

part two

[avis-writeshq]

promise? — amajiki tamaki 

[i had a little inspiration from a conversation i had with one of my friend(?)s. and so, this was born]

“isn’t that tamaki?” sakura asked, eyebrow raised with a sly smirk on her face. “why don’t you go say hi to him, (y/n)-chan?”

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you nudged her in jest. “i’d rather not, thank you.”

“didn’t you say you talked to him a little? you have his number right?” aneko chimed in, a look of disbelief still on her face. “i can’t believe you’re actually friends with the big three. kinda unbelievable for support students like us.”

you shrugged, “mirio was nice enough to introduce me. after all, he is my ‘client’ for this assessment.”

a small whistle escaped from sakura’s lips. “perfect time to get close to a certain member?”

“you’re insufferable,” you hissed, but the smile still rested on your face. 

“i wanna go home…” tamaki groaned, covering his face in his hands as nejire sang out a string full of teases.

“tama is in love~ tama is in love~” she squealed before leaning in close, her big blue eyes practically bulging out of her head from curiosity and anticipation. “well? well?! who is it?!”

“give him a break, nejire,” mirio chortled, patting tamaki on the back. “he’ll tell us soon enough.”

tamaki let out a muffled whine, slinking down to rest his chin on his arms on the table. his eyes drifted to where you stood, laughing and joking with your friends. you had just pushed sakura jokingly, while aneko watched on with the same amused look on her face. you were right there literally standing in the same room as him. you were so close… so why were you so far away?

“i’m pathetic…” tamaki muttered to himself, his eyes downcast and no longer trained on you. 

“you’re not pathetic!” mirio scolded, clearly hearing tamaki’s self-deprecation loud and clear. “just talk to her!” 

nejire pouted as mirio talked about tamaki’s mystery love interest, clearly out of the loop. “c’mon tamaki, tell me, tell me!”

he’s never going to make it out alive.

*** 

The sound of a notification on his phone brought tamaki out of his focus, looking up from his maths revision for the first time since he started (two hours ago). he tentatively picked up his phone, eyes widening as he read the contact name. 

(y/n): hey amajiki-san! i hope you don’t mind me messaging you this late… 

(y/n): i just wanted to wish you luck for your tests tomorrow :)

at the message, tamaki flushed a deep red. how can you be so nice all the time? did you message everyone else? why didn’t you just message in the group chat? before he even realised it, he had been staring at the message for five minutes. fear rushed through his veins. he just left you on ‘read’! you probably think he’s weird… he had to respond now!

tamaki: thank you

‘no! not like that!’ he groaned, ‘fix it! fix it!’

tamaki: that’s nice of you to say

‘i made it worse!’ 

before he could spiral even further into the depths of his own self-loathing, his phone ping!ed with a notification. 

(y/n): haha, that’s okay!

(y/n): if you see me tomorrow, say hi, okay?

bursting into a million shades of vermillion once again, his phone shook in his hands as he stared at the message you just sent. now he actually needs to talk to you! not that he doesn’t want to talk to you it’s just… 

tamaki: okay

‘why did i agree?!’

(y/n): promise? 

(y/n): i’ll hold you to it!

tamaki: promise

before he could dig himself a deeper grave, tamaki threw the phone on his bed, and he let out a worried sigh as he slunk deeper in his desk chair. time to ask mirio. 

*** 

you hummed quietly as you made your way to the bathroom from the lab you were just working in. because everyone in the hero course was busy preparing for their hero exams and tests, the support students had to go for more than a week without their ‘clients’, which was frustrating when it came to measurements and double-checking ideas. to be fair, it was a stressful time for everyone so you couldn’t blame them. 

as you passed by 3-A, you noticed the big three entering the classroom, tamaki being the last to enter. 

your eyes met at that moment, and you gave a small smile. his cheeks flared up before he gave a cute little wave. your eyes lit up and you waved back, mouthing ‘good luck’ to him before he retreated into the classroom. 

you couldn’t help but squeal silently as you jogged back to the lab, your stomach doing backflips at the exchange. you looked over your shoulder one last time before disappearing into the other room. maybe he’ll feel a little more comfortable now… and maybe… maybe you could even be more than friends. 

Reblogs are appreciated!

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

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

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body. 

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.  

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can. 

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso. 

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again. 

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic. 

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

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position  

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window. 

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit. 

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for. 

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock. 

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful. 

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain. 

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it? 

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can. 

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity. 

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge. 

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use. 

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore. 

K = Kinks 

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity. 

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token. 

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

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

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

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold. 

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence. 

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench. 

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail. 

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping. 

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest. 

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

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

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”) 

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.   

[dodo-begone]

Scrambled Eggs

Pairing: yan!Ranboo x reader, Yan!Tommy x reader, Yan! tubbo x reader, Yan!Purpled x reader

Request: I raise you: Hnfnnnnnnnnnn more Yandere minors but this time you're with the eggpire already (not on purpose but you get the idea)

Word count: 3k

Warning: yandere, the egg, obsession, cult (egg), kidnapping, cursing

A/n: this is all platonic. Nothing romantic. also oop this went a lot longer than i thought it would- I got really into it. Also uploaded this and didn't proof read it. I know there's at least one mistake in there- sorry in advance.

Ranboo

When this poor lad finds out you’re currently in the Egg’s clutches, he was shocked. Oh my gosh, didn’t you love him? Did you actually love him? If you really loved him, you wouldn’t have let the Egg gain control of you. That’s how “the power of love” works. Right?

He’ll go to you, begging and doing his absolute best to reason with you. In all honesty, trying to reason with you was as productive as asking Santa Clause for that new ferrari model-

But that didn’t stop him. He was too far to properly think things through. Now why don’t you come home with him? It’s not safe for you. This “Egg” doesn’t actually care for you. He cares for you though- You end up chasing him off, saying that you were happier with the Egg than anytime you were with him. Oh how the Egg has brainwashed you. It’s so bad for you, can’t you see? He’ll go through the cycle of attempting to save you a few times before it becomes too much for him.

Eventually he just goes to Phil, ranting about how you were controlled by the Egg now and he was scared for your safety. Oh god Phil what can he do to save you? Phil please help him, give him some guidance- anything! And after Phil? Well, he’d pray to any deity that’d listen. Only asking them to save you from your current plight. You weren’t safe and he loved you so much, he can’t lose you too.

Phil tires of this cycle very quickly. It’s pathetic how much Ranboo is upset by your situation. But he’s your friend and he cares for you so much; you’re a constant in his life. How can he not love you? So he’ll just give in during one of Ranboo’s pleading stages, saying that he’ll help Ranboo rescue you- which makes Ranboo very pleased. If it was this easy to end this toxic cycle, he would’ve done it ages ago.

They plan your rescue for weeks, almost a few months. Everything had to be absolutely perfect; any flaw that could allow the Egg to repossess you needed to be resolved. As time passed, Ranboo grew more anxious. He kept visiting you during the planning process, just to keep an eye on you. Make sure you were safe.

When the plan was finally put into motion, his anxiety grew more. What if there was something that they miss? Something they didn’t account for? Phil had to remind Ranboo, multiple times, that you needed him. And he was here to save you. Ranboo couldn’t afford the time to hesitate, he had to take action. Plus if something went wrong, they always had Techno to fall back on. This got Ranboo back in the mindset, ready to save you again.

Something that was unavoidable was physical conflict. A fight started between the eggpire and the rescuers. It was rather rough and unfortunate that you got involved. You were fighting against them, rather fiercely as well. Leaving you mostly unharmed was nearly impossible when you were so determined to have their heads. But they managed. And they succeeded; they defeated/subdued the eggpire, you came out with only a few scratches and they got you away from the egg. All in a day’s work.

Once they got you “home” (specifically Phil’s house since it was far from the Egg and provided the most on-site protection), they started the recovery process. They had to restrain you to the bed, tying you up so no harm could come to you or them. Another unfortunate thing, but a necessity.

You were feral, thrashing around and snarling. Demanding that they release you. You had to get back to the Egg, the Egg needed you and you needed it. Though time passes with no change and you eventually tire, finally being subdued from exhaustion. Ranboo volunteers to keep an eye on you once you’re deemed “stable” (as in “not trying to actively leave”).

Phil is Reluctant to leave you in Ranboo’s care, but he was tired. The day had been long and rather draining. But Ranboo seemed so eager to help you, stay with you. So he, although reluctant to do so, leaves you in the care of Ranboo. They agreed to work in shifts before he left.

As he leaves, he gives you two a final look. Ranboo moves his chair closer to you, learning in and starts to talk to you. Honestly, Phil could care less about what conversation you two were having. He was only there to rescue you. There weren’t any ties between you two besides Ranboo, a common connection. All that mattered was you getting cured, out of the Egg’s clutches.

Tommy

This boy? When he’s told the Egg has you in its possession, he vehemently denies it. There’s absolutely no way it could’ve gotten you. I mean do they realize who they’re talking about? They’re talking about you- one of the strongest people on the smp!

Though a small part of him doubts that. Whispers that yes, you’re strong. But not strong enough to protect you from a danger like the Egg.

There’s absolutely no possibility that you were taken by the Egg. I mean come on, as mentioned above, you’re hella strong. You fought in so many wars and never fell for any of Dream’s lies. The last one is mostly why he believes the Egg doesn’t have you. If you can defy Dream’s manipulation, then the Egg should be no different. Right?

And so many people didn’t like him, so this had to be a joke. It was laughable, unbelievable. They thought they could get him so easily? Oh how wrong they were. Here, he can easily prove them wrong. Prove that it’s a prank. Mostly needs to prove it to himself though.

So when he walks around the smp, he keeps an eye out for you. He does it everywhere and eventually wanders to areas less frequented by him. That’s the level of “delusional” he’s at; you’re just hiding somewhere, far from him. This is a mean prank you’re pulling and very effective if the wanted product was a panicked Tommy.

Finally throws in the towel when he can’t find you anywhere after a week. He asked everyone on the smp for your location and got one of two answers; they either haven’t seen you or they saw you in the Badlands, near the Egg’s domain.

Now he wasn’t scared to go into the Badlands to look for you. Oh absolutely not! He was, in fact, absolutely terrified of the Egg. His reasoning for not going there boiled down to “the Egg doesn’t like him and wants him dead” and “there’s no way the egg got them”.

Enough time passes and he finally starts to accept the idea that the Egg may actually have you. When the thought pops up to look for you in the Badlands, he doesn’t question or fight it like before. Now accepting it with open arms, he heads to the Badlands. His worst fear will be laid to rest. You won’t be there.

Oh how wrong he was. When he gets closer to the Egg’s lair, he finally catches sight of you. It’d been weeks since he last saw you, and was ecstatic when he found you. A closer, more in depth look decimated any joy he had.

You were definitely a part of the eggpire with the signature red iris that obscured your natural eye color from the light. And it was also obvious that it was working you to death. Your body looked so much weaker than it ever had, besides grave injuries. Absolutely drained of all, fucking demented, lifeless were just a few things to describe your current state. It was so hard to look at. He knew he had to save you because the Egg was slowly killing you.

He executed the best plan he could conjure up in that little pea-brain of his; he’d “kidnap” you. A very simple plan, in all actuality. When the other eggpire members were away from you, he’d lure you away with just his presence. The Egg absolutely despised him, he was well aware of that. That’s why you were most likely chasing him, but he liked to believe you were coming with him willingly. Breaking from the Egg’s control.

Okay so he hadn’t planned on where he’d take you- BUT he did know you had to be taken far, far away. Far from the smp and especially the Egg. He’ll stop when he believes you’re too far from the Egg’s influence. A place you can finally rest and break free from the Egg. After that? Well it was obvious; he’d do everything in his fucking power to ensure that the Egg could never get ahold of, control or bother you again.

Tying you to the bedpost should be sufficient for now, right? Oh don’t worry about the long chain on it. It’s long enough for you to get into the bathroom and get business done. He’s a really considerate guy, huh? It’s only there to prevent you from running back to the Egg, he swears.

And look! You’re slowly becoming yourself again. It’s happening slowly, but Tommy can see the progress that’s already being made. And that makes him overjoyed.

Tubbo

The news of your disappearance couldn’t have come at a worse time. He had been told about one of the nukes being stolen and then the news that you were kidnapped right under his nose? Absolutely worse. All he felt was absolute rage and despair. First the nuke and now you? How could this get worse!

Finding out how you were taken can, apparently. Jack recounted how he last saw you with Bad. But it wasn’t like “oh they’re just chillin like homies”. No, it was about how Bad was carrying you to… somewhere. It was unclear where they went. Rather unfortunate how Jack had to deliver the news of two horrendous incidents at the same time.

Tubbo wanted to scold Jack for not stopping Bad, but he couldn’t. It wasn’t Jack’s fault. Well it was but wasn’t all at the same time. Telling Jack how he fucked up severely wouldn’t help the situation, and neither would yelling or any other destructive form of anger. Keeping his cool was his best option to solve the current crises.

He gets to work on solving both issues asap. Jack volunteers to find the missing nuke which left Tubbo to find you. Jack taking up the nuke issue was a blessing; he’d rather have Jack find the nuke than risk your safety.

Now since he’s left to look for you, he needs a plan to locate you. His best option? Getting help from the other residents, of course! They were more than happy to assist Tubbo. All of them get told the same story; the recount that Jack told Tubbo of the last appearance you made.

It isn’t long into the search before results were made. Puffy came back with your location. Your situation was less than favorable. Adding you being in the Badlands and so close to where the Egg laid, it was all clear. It appeared that you were under the Egg’s thumb. After all, if a friend calls out to you, a normal person wouldn’t just ignore them. And Puffy said she wasn’t too far away from you when she yelled for you. So something was obviously wrong.

Tubbo decides to give the Badlands a little visit. To give his own input on the situation, if you’d call it that. In all honesty, it was just to see you and see if the tales were true. Sadly, they were.

The next best thing would be to plan an escape for you. So the first attempt is him just trying to get you to leave on your own accord. And that plan was unsuccessful, which was less than surprising. Then he tries to physically drag you back. A hilarious sight, but another plan that was doomed to fail from the beginning. As a last resort, for that visit, he pulls out the puppy dog eyes and alligator tears. You were unfazed by his tactics. There go his immediate plans of freeing you.

Eventually you tire of his behavior and chase him away. You spare him some last words before you part ways though. “I don’t need to leave the Egg. I’m perfectly fine, so just leave me alone”.

That really made him upset, but he wasn’t going to give up on you just like that. No, you were his best friend. Best friends don’t give up on each other so easily. They stick with each other and get the other out of a nasty situation. And this was one nasty situation you got pulled into.

When he gets back, he relays all of the discoveries to the others. It was undeniable, unanimous; you had to be rescued. As they all talked it over, a smile grew on Tubbo’s face. Tubbo’s change in mood was dismissed easily; he was just excited to get his friend back. They weren’t half wrong with that.

Tubbo was more happy that it’d be easier to contain you. He could easily get you where he wanted you and keep you there under the pretense of “keeping you there for your safety”. And all he’d have to do is volunteer to care for you…

Purpled

Surprisingly, he meets you through the Egg. Well, properly meet you. Originally, he joined for the money. Some of the eggpire members were rather wealthy and paid handsomely for his services.

So to elaborate on how he “knew” you. He first found you when you first appeared on the smp. Being toured around by Dream. So logically he goes up to greet the new member. You want to make good impressions on people as soon as you can.

You two only exchange names before Dream starts to shoo Purpled off. Dream gives the excuse that you were his friend. Not Purpled’s. His. He didn’t know you well and this was his server, so he’d obviously give the best tour of it. Plus you two were also catching up on things you two had done.

Dream’s behavior peeved you. He was being rather rude to this stranger and rather irresponsible. If he was trying to seem good, he was doing a poor job of conveying that.

You argued with Dream to allow this other person to come along with y’all. The argument doesn’t last long before Dream finally shoots it down and pulls you away for the rest of the tour.

Purpled was awed, felt so loved. You argued back at Dream of all people, and just for him. To defend him and let you come along with him. God you must be an angel in disguise, a true treasure. People as gracious as you are hard to come by nowadays.

After that, he does his best to become your friend. He does all the research on you that he can and watches your behaviors. Noting what you like and what you do throughout the day. Just the normal stuff, ya’know.

Without you knowing it, you had become such a precious thing to him. You’d become his best friend. Yes you two didn’t talk often at all, but you two were still friends. After all, he knew everything about you. Your favorite color, your favorite place to hang out, which genre of books you like, what muffin you get at Niki’s bakery, how you like your tea and coffee. Just the normal stuff a best friend would need to know.

Also collected things of yours. Things you came in contact with. If you left them, that meant you didn’t want them. And if you didn’t want them anymore, then they were free for the taking. This was all obvious stuff.

Another surprising thing; he became too busy with the egg to even notice your disappearance. With how much he was around you, he would’ve noticed you go missing within seconds. Yet he wasn’t around to keep you safe, now was he? No he wasn’t. He was away collecting some of the dumbest things for the egg.

He was rather annoyed when he was told of the soon-to-be new member of the eggpire. Great, another egg freak he’d have to deal with. Right now, he could really use a pick-me-up. Visiting you wouldn’t hurt- apparently it can because he was almost immediately put to work after being told the news.

After prepping for the initiation process, he was more than peeved. It’d been weeks since he last saw you. It was some of the worst weeks of his life. All he needed right now was you- oh boy.

Well he wishes were granted because there you were, being inducted into the egg cult. Man he should’ve been a bit more careful on what he wished for, but whatever. You were here now. Once it’s all over, he goes to properly greet you as an eggpire member and tours you around. So since you like the egg and he likes the egg, you wanna keep talking?

Will do everything in his power to keep you under the Egg’s control. If anybody comes in hopes of rescuing you, they’d have to deal with Purpled first. They’d usually never get past him, defeated by his hand and sent away.

It was in “your” best interest to stay with the egg. Really it was his, but you believed it too.

Those egg-cult freaks kept preaching about how the Egg would give people anything they asked or craved. Now that you were here, Purpled supposed it was true. After all, you were what he wanted after all. He is best friend by his side forever. What else could he ask for?

[chiveburger]

hongseok has a whole live where he spends 30 minutes talking about his members... he goes in depth to talk about each member’s personalities and defining characteristics and this is what he says:

kino: when he first met kino, he couldn’t believe that someone like him could actually exist. he didn’t realize that someone could be so pure and innocent and good hearted, and kino wasn’t shy about caring for others eithers. not only did he do things secretly he’d be upright about being kind to others to the point that hongseok wondered if this was all an act. If kino was just faking it or maintaining his image that way. over time he realized that he really was like that all the time... he was nice to everyone, good to everyone and he had a personality that not everyone can emulate. as you age, hongseok realizes that it’s hard to be someone that is so altruistic and genuine. “Is he really a perfect human being or is he just faking this” were the two choices hongseok thought of when he first met kino

hui: hui is a really really good leader, and his job is a lot harder than it seems. for him to even take the lead requires a lot of responsibility and leadership, and he’s shown that time and time again. hui is someone who is tough when he needs to be tough, but he’s receptive and malleable too. he listens to everyone’s opinions and tries to incorporate all of what he hears, and tries to find a solution alone. just so that his other members don’t have to feel burdened by it. as an idol group those problems always arise, and hui tries to take care of it every time. 

yeoone: alike kino, he’s unbelievably nice. he’s not weak, but he’s very innocent and honest to the point that he almost feels like a blank piece of paper. he’s very good at keeping promises, but not in the way that’s just like... “oh I’ll meet you there on time, promise!” promises that are embedded in wanting to change or better himself. he puts in a lot of effort into keeping his word, and if he can’t he has asked hongseok for help. he’s open about his feelings and he tries to absorb and learn from others. he’s a person who knows how to take responsibility and blame too. yeoone was also the first person to greet hongseok when he first came into the company, he told him that he was a fan and tried to get close with him. he’s one of the first people who helped hongseok find comfort in being a trainee in cube.

shinwon: with shinwon, the more you get to know him, the more you’ll begin to like him. his first impression was very blunt and straightforward, and he is still like that today but everything shinwon says is truthful and sincere. shinwon doesn’t lie. he never lies, and if he does he doesn’t speak and he doesn’t answer questions. this was in regards to when he asked him about something to do with kino, and shinwon said he didn’t know. he kept on prying, and shinwon said “hyung, I know the answer but I don’t know if this is something I can tell you without kino’s permission. I can tell you but only if I ask kino first.” shinwon is very loyal that way. because his honesty is not sugarcoated, sometimes his words can hurt but there’s never any malicious intention behind them. he will properly express his opinion in hopes that it’s helpful. he’s also very sharp, and if he's not confident in any task he won’t accept or promise to do it. 

wooseok: in one word... he is cute. he is pure too. whenever he sees wooseok, he’ll start talking to him as if he’s a baby just out of habit. he knows that his personality is very sweet so he knows there’s never bad intentions behind his words. If wooseok is sad, sulky or upset they can tell right away. he can’t hide his feelings, so when he’s adamant about saying no even in a more serious tone they know that he’s not saying it to be hurtful or that he really means it. he’s saying it because he’s unhappy. what wooseok says and emotes is what he feels in his heart, and because he is like that hongseok (and most of pentagon) finds him very lovable.

yuto: yuto is a dedicated and gentle person. hongseok has never met a foreigner like him before, and he recalls moments during their trainee days where his heart would be aching for him. at night time when the lights had to be shut off, and the doors to their practice room had to close yuto would always stay late to practice his korean. he’d be biting on a pencil working on his pronunciation. to yuto, he just feels like he’s pulling his weight and doing his part. he’s responsible and selfless too. as a foreigner he’s already at a disadvantage but yuto never hides behind those excuses. he stays tenacious and meticulous, he puts in a lot of effort into everything he does... he doesn’t show off and he works silently but when push comes the shove he is always reliable. 

jinho: as their oldest, jinho is pentagon’s mental pillar. he is someone who tries to take an objective and neutral stance on everything, and he believes that it’s role to do so. he cares for each and every member, and knows their strengths and weaknesses too. with that he talks to everyone and tries to help them in reaching their highest potential by highlighting their strengths and making them aware of their lacking points. If the members disagree with some of the decisions hui makes, they try to ask jinho to relay their grievances to him but he’ll tell them that they have also have to look at it through hui’s perspective. for hui to make certain decisions he must have his reasons, and because of that, hui even as their leader also relies on jinho a lot.

yanan: there’s never a reason to dislike yanan. he is cute, diligent and confident. If yanan is criticized once, he’ll stay up all night fixing his mistake and when he says that he’s practiced the members know that he’s not lying. yanan is so pure that it’s almost like he’s filled with child-like wonder... he’s very keen, but there are times where his answer to their questions are so far-fetched that it seems right. before finalizing for title songs, hui sometimes goes to yanan to ask which one he’d like best and whichever one he chooses always becomes the song they promote.

hongseok says that for all these truly good people to have found each other and created this group is very rare. there isn’t one member’s personality that he doesn’t like, and if he was uncomfortable with them he wouldn’t be able to say any of this truthfully. all these different and great characteristics is what makes up pentagon 💗

[hxseok-honee]

blossom || part 20

blossom [part 20] || "Closure..."

[‘cause all i need is to see you blossom out, blossom out, blossom out]

previous || masterlist || next

a/n : welcome to another 'is this a hobi chapter or is this a yoongi chapter' chapter!!!

taglist [open] :

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When Y/n leaves Gryffindor common room, her bottom lip is quivering. She’s not sure why, and she’s definitely not sure what to do about it. So she just walks. She doesn’t make the active choice to head in a certain direction, but before she knows it she’s heading downstairs toward the kitchens — she only realizes that she’d been walking to Hoseok when she turns the corner toward Hufflepuff common room and finds him there, sitting in the corridor, exactly where he said he’d be.

He looks up when he hears her shoes on the cement, his face lighting up when he sees that it’s her.

“Y/n! I was wondering if you were gonna come find me. That’s actually the reason I told you where I was-- wait, what’s wrong?” The excited rambling dies in his throat when he looks up at her properly and sees her face -- the loss in her eyes, the way she’s pursing her lips to stop them from shaking. She looks so unbelievably sad, but it clearly hasn’t registered in her own mind that she is, because she’s looking at him in confusion now.

“What do you mean?” Assessing the situation in the split-second way only someone as observant as him could, Hoseok pats the ground beside him, deciding not to be so up-front about his concerns. She settles onto the cold ground, scooting in close to press her side against his, seeking warmth. He says nothing about it, but he’s grateful -- it gets cold in the corridors in winter, and he likes the feelings she gives him when she’s close more than he’d care to admit.

“Did something happen today?” He asks while he’s looping a flower through the twine and taping it down, the same one he’d been working on when she’d arrived. When she doesn’t respond right away, he glances over at her, taking in the faraway look in her eyes -- and then he leaves her be. She’ll tell him when she’s ready.

“I talked to Jungkook tonight… we just finished talking, actually.” Hoseok isn’t sure why he’s tensing -- whether it’s because he’s worried about how she’s doing or whether Jungkook had said something to upset her. Or maybe it’s because of the little irrational voice in the back of his head telling him that somehow, Jungkook had convinced her to get back together with him. The idea of that makes him vaguely nauseous, but he does his best not to show it when he responds.

“Oh… How did it go?” He can see her nodding slowly out of the corner of his eye, meaning that it went well.

“He apologized. Said he would leave me alone and do his best to work on himself before trying to be my friend again… I guess he really wants to do things the right way this time… So that’s good…” Hoseok doesn’t say anything, staring at the ground in front of them as he waits for something else from her, any indication of how she’s feeling because all she’s done so far is give an objective retelling of the conversation. But she doesn’t speak again, so he turns to her slowly, suddenly apprehensive.

“Are you okay?” Blinking rapidly until she’s able to focus on Hoseok again, she nods, turning to him with a small smile.

“I’m okay, Hobi… relieved… sad… but okay.” He feels glad that she trusts him enough to tell him that she’s upset, but he’s not sure how to help. So he sets the unfinished flower crown on the floor in front of him, reaching over and pulling her hand into his lap so he can interlock his fingers with hers. He doesn’t say anything -- he’s not sure why she’s sad, but he knows there has to be a really good reason for her to not be overwhelmed by the happiness of finally having gotten the closure she needed--

“Closure…” He whispers to himself, realizing with a small shake of his head that he’d taken too long to put it together. Y/n looks up at him from where she’s just rested her head on his shoulder, wondering where his thoughts have gone. He squeezes her hand, meeting her eyes with a small smile. “It’s the closure… isn’t it?”

Y/n frowns, unsure what he’s getting at. And then she thinks about it -- the amount of time she’d spent being annoyed with Jungkook for not letting her have exactly that. The summer spent crying over him and then deciding that she needed to be over him by the time school started again, never giving herself a chance to reach her own form of acceptance. Closure’s exactly what she’d needed this whole time, and months later, she’s got it at last. But for some reason, knowing that she and Jungkook are finally done -- knowing that now they needed to work on their friendship more than anything — it brings her a sense of incredible loss, like finally tossing the key to the door she’d locked up so long ago and moving on from it for good.

She eventually nods, laying her head against Hoseok’s shoulder again. She doesn’t want to say more, still trying to work through her own emotions, but she knows he won’t mind -- he’s always known what she needs without her saying it aloud. But she wants to make sure he knows that she’s fully aware of him, that he’s not just the boy she runs to when she’s an emotional wreck. Because it’s starting to worry her, and she would hate for him to think that about their relationship.

Hoseok seems like a really good guy. I hope he makes you happy.

The memory of Jungkook’s text shakes her, and her stomach’s alight with nerves when she realizes that, yeah, Hoseok does make her happy. Even when he thinks he’s not doing anything at all, he’s making her happier than she’d felt in a long time. He makes her happy even when she doesn’t realize that happy’s the one thing she’s been longing for.

“Thank you, Hobi. I don’t know what I’d do without you…” Hoseok stills when she whispers it, never lifting her head from his shoulder. He almost feels like he imagined it. But she’s pulling away from him now, craning her neck so she can find his eyes. He turns to her, too, eyes wide and a breathless laugh of disbelief leaving him.

“But I didn’t do anything…” She smiles then, having known he’d say that.

“You’re perfect as you are. Right next to me like this.” It makes her nervous, saying something like that to his face, but she means it. Because Jung Hoseok never believes he’s enough, even if he hides it well. And she needs him to know that he’s not just enough -- he’s perfect. To her, he’s perfect.

Apparently, saying it so blatantly like that has sent a shock through him, because his eyes are blown wide and his mouth is hanging slightly open. She thinks maybe she’s gone too far, but she can also see that his ears are turning red the longer he looks at her, his cheeks coloring in the same way soon after.

“I-- no one’s ever…” He trails off, nowhere near done with his thought but unable to get the rest of the words out. No one’s ever thought of me as important. The way Y/n’s looking at him, he knows that she’s aware of where his thoughts had gone, that she can see him even when he’s hiding. It’s scary, being vulnerable to someone the way he is right now. But he can’t say he would have it any other way, not if it’s her that’s seeing right through him.

“Y/n… I think… I think I--” I think I have feelings for you. It should have been so easy to say -- he almost has all the words out, he just has to finish saying them. But he can’t. Because he’d already told her the kiss had meant nothing. He’d already told her they could keep going as they are now. That nothing had to change. Because he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of their friendship, not when things between her and her ex were so precarious. He’d been too happy beside her like he is now, and he hadn’t been willing to risk it. But now he wishes he had. And he has no idea, but she wishes he had, too.

Before he can gather the courage to start again -- to say it again, clearly this time -- her phone is buzzing, Yoongi’s face and contact lighting up the screen when she pulls it out of her pocket. Hoseok swallows whatever awkward confession he’d been about to make, watching as Y/n frowns at her phone.

She’d texted him over an hour ago, and when he hadn’t responded right away, she’d just assumed he was in the midst of his usual nighttime business -- there’s no way he could already be done. It’s not even 11pm yet. Lifting the phone to her ear, she answers with confusion.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice is calm, and she can tell he’s aiming to keep it that way, but his breathlessness is coming through the speaker against his will.

“Uh… by Hufflepuff -- why?” She hears him sigh, a huff of irritation that’s somehow also him trying to catch his breath.

“Fuck, I came all the way to Gryffindor Tower for nothing? So many fucking stairs--” He cuts off again, and she can hear his feet hitting the ground in quick succession, so she knows he’s running. He keeps talking, but it’s mostly to himself. “Fucking magical moving staircase, never where I need it when I need it most-- your text was really vague. You good?” Y/n blinks, not having expected to be addressed so suddenly.

“Yeah, I’m okay. I’m fine--”

“Liar.” Y/n scoffs, not appreciating his tone.

“Then why ask if you already know, hm?” He chuckles deeply, knowing he’s pissed her off.

“I always like to check if you’ll be honest with me when I ask. You never are.”

“Then stop asking!” Hoseok looks to her then, eyebrows hiding behind his fringe as he watches her expression turn to empty rage. She’s annoyed, but it doesn’t seem like it’ll last. In fact, it’s already gone, because at the end of the corridor, Yoongi’s rounding the corner, phone pressed against his ear as he locates her, sitting there on the ground with Hoseok. When she sees him, her face becomes one of surprise, and she’s lowering her phone when he does, sliding the device into his pocket as he approaches them.

He’s only half-dressed, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, his sneakers completely untied, the shoelaces dragging across the floor while he walks. How did he not trip on his way here, Hoseok wonders, because that is really an impressive feat in a school as big as Hogwarts. But there are a few things that catch his eye while Yoongi flops down on the ground in front of them and levels Y/n with a hard stare when he finally settles into his spot.

“Why are you guys out here on the cold ass floor?”

“Hobi’s doing flower crowns.”

“That didn’t even come close to answering my question.”

Hoseok doesn’t react to the conversation he’s clearly now a part of, too distracted as his eyes roam the shirtless boy’s form curiously. Because there on Yoongi’s left ribcage is Y/n’s name — not the full thing, just her given name, scribbled in black ink across the expanse of his ribs. Right under his heart. Simple and to the point, much like everything uncomplicated about Min Yoongi, Hoseok’s coming to realize. It’s interesting to him that Yoongi has Y/n’s name tattooed on his body, mostly because he’s wondering how many of Yoongi’s ‘late night visitors’ would have had a problem with it -- just how many times Yoongi’s had to make it clear that he doesn’t care what they think.

The other thing to catch Hoseok’s eye is the necklace that Yoongi wears, a thin silver chain with a simple charm, a black star that sits comfortably between his collarbones. It’s something that otherwise would never have gotten Hoseok’s attention, but he’s seen it before. In fact, he knows that if he’d just turn his head, he’d see its double peeking out from beneath Y/n’s sweater. He thinks that if their bond is this tight, he wouldn’t be surprised to find that Y/n has Yoongi’s name tattooed somewhere on her body, too. It’s a curious thing, their relationship, but he’d said it that day in the forest with her, and he’d meant it. He’s grateful for Yoongi, because he would never have met this version of Y/n without him.

“--checking me out right now, I just know it.”

“He’s not checking you out, dumbass.” Hoseok blinks, coming back to reality at the sound of Y/n’s voice, clear as day. When he looks up from Yoongi’s chest, he finds the boy smirking at him, an eyebrow raised in amusement.

“If you’re interested, I am very free tomorrow night.” Hoseok makes a noise of surprise, eyes wide, before he realizes that he’d just been looking Yoongi up and down for at least a full minute. Immediately he’s flushing red because Yoongi’s just propositioned him over a misunderstanding, and the Slytherin is now chuckling at how flustered he is, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Actually, I’m not so sure Y/n would be okay with that -- sorry, Flower Boy. Maybe in another life, when Best Friend Rule 32 doesn’t exist.” Hoseok has no idea what any of the words Yoongi’s just said means, so he’s shaking his head and looking to Y/n for help. She smiles, laying a hand on his shoulder in understanding.

“You’ll have to forgive him -- he reached his sexual awakening way too young in life and now his internal wiring’s a little wonky.” She says it with sarcastic pity, and Yoongi only rolls his eyes before standing.

“Well, I’d love to sit here all night freezing my balls off, but that sounds like something I would definitely not love to do. You gonna be alright here, man? You’re welcome to use Slytherin common room for your flowering if you want.” Hoseok had guessed when Yoongi arrived that he’d come to pick up Y/n, but he hadn’t been expecting the Slytherin to do much more than bid him goodnight. Although warmed by the kindness that Yoongi probably doesn’t even think twice about, he shakes his head with a smile anyway.

“I’m good! I’m just gonna finish this crown and then go to bed — hopefully the party’s dying down a little.” He gestures toward the door to his common room innocently, like he can’t hear the music still blaring loudly even from here. Yoongi raises an eyebrow but nods, reaching out and lifting Y/n to her feet when she takes his hand. He doesn’t let her go, only leading her slowly down the corridor as she turns back to Hoseok.

“Let me know if you get too cold! And make sure you get inside soon, it’s late and you might get sick, and—“

“Oh my God, let the boy live his life, Y/n — you’re not his mom!” Hoseok chuckles when they round the corner, the sounds of their bickering fading into the night.

--

“Weren’t you busy? You’re impossible to get to after the sun goes down, especially when we first get back to school and you have ‘lost time to make up for’ or whatever your crazy logic is.” Yoongi shakes his head with a snicker, pulling her into his bedroom and shutting the door behind them. Jin’s not back yet, and Y/n turns to Yoongi in confusion. He only shrugs.

“Probably with Jimin.” He says nothing more, gesturing to his bed while he slips his shoes off. She does the same, climbing onto the mattress and scooting over to give him room. He’s not telling her something, so she pries because that’s what they do — nothing goes unsaid between them.

“So if you weren’t sleeping with someone…” Yoongi sighs as he turns the light off, making his way to her in the dark.

“I was with Jimin, but we weren’t fucking. My phone died — that’s why I didn’t see your text until I was getting ready for bed, waiting for it to charge.” That explains his state of undress, but it doesn’t explain literally anything else.

“What happened with Jimin? Did you get into a fight or something?” She hears Yoongi snort beside her, and he wiggles an arm under her head so he can be more comfortable.

“Actually, yeah.” Y/n sits up right away, and Yoongi sighs, thinking about how much time he’d just wasted getting his arm under her neck.

“What happened?!” Reaching out, he takes hold of her upper arm, pulling her back down onto the bed.

“Calm down, dork. Nothing’s gonna happen to our group.” She had actually been worried about Yoongi himself, but now that he mentions it, she’s starting to stress about the group dynamic again. Of course something would happen as soon as she and Jungkook resolve their issues.

“He said he didn’t want me coming around just to fuck anymore — that he wasn’t going to be ‘one of many’, whatever that means…” She can see him now that she’s so close to his face, so she catches the way he rolls his eyes in frustration and holds back another sigh. He’s obviously worked up over this, regardless of how he acts.

“But you haven’t been sleeping with anyone else since the first time you slept with Jimin… right?” He’d never actually told her that, and she hadn’t wanted to say anything, but she’d picked up on his behavior since getting back to school — he’d started avoiding making eye contact with people he sleeps with regularly, ignoring texts from numbers he hasn’t saved. It’s all very unlike the Yoongi she knows, so it must be because he’s changing. And it’s confirmed so easily, when he looks into her eyes for a long moment, finally giving an almost imperceptible nod, one that she only picks up on because he’s breaking eye contact, embarrassed.

“Yeah… it’s just Jimin…” She tries so hard to hide her smile, but she fails — this is the first time Yoongi’s ever slept with only one person consistently, if sleeping with Jimin twice could be considered ‘consistent’. She can’t help that she’s a little proud of him.

When he sees the edges of her lips turning up, he rolls his eyes, grabbing her shoulder and pushing her away from him until she’s facing the other direction.

“Enough about me. What happened with Jungkook? Did he apologize or do I have to put him in the Hospital Wing?” She turns back around to face him, smiling when he rolls his eyes again, a habit when they’re together.

“He apologized. Said he would work on himself. That he doesn’t want to lose me or the group.” She keeps it short, gives him the cliffnotes because she knows he’ll fill in the gaps himself. And he does, nodding slowly as he looks her over.

“Relieved because you’re free of his demonic badgering — sad because you actually have to cut the cord with him this time?” She purses her lips, finding it interesting that both Hoseok and Yoongi had reached the same conclusion but had delivered their findings in comically different ways. Nodding, she reaches out to play with his piercings while she thinks, fiddling with the rings on his ear just as she has nearly every day since he’d gotten the double helix.

“I’m just happy that things are finally looking up… but yeah, it hurts a little to let go for good. But I’m okay, I promise.” He nods, the piercings slipping from her fingers. She drops her hand to his shoulder with a small sigh, waiting for his response.

“I know you’re okay — you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.” Suddenly overcome with emotion, Y/n finds herself frowning deeply, her bottom lip starting to quiver just as it had when she’d left Gryffindor. Yoongi sees it, changing the conversation before the waterworks can start.

“Okay, so we talked about Jungkook. Now let’s talk about Hoseok.” Y/n rolls her eyes, shoving at his shoulder this time and forcing him to turn onto his other side.

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

“I’m just saying, if you’re not going to cuff that man, let me know. Because he really was giving me ‘the eyes’ earlier, if you catch my drift—“

“Goodnight, Yoongi.”

[thesiriusmoon]

Harry Potter ships I truly hate

Disclaimer: I’m not telling you who to ship and whatnot, I’m just expressing how awful these ships are to me and then explaining why.

1. Harry X Draco

Now this is coming from a former drarry stan who before, hadn’t read the books. I thought Draco ‘had no choice’ and ‘just wanted love’ until I opened my eyes and saw the character for who he really was. That is a spoiled blood supremacist who hates muggleborns, and is loved by both of his parents. Draco bullied Harry. Although Harry fought back, it was because he was the victim and had to defend himself. Harry never went out of his way to hurt Draco, but Draco did it constantly. Draco and Harry would never work because Harry hated Draco just as much as Draco did him. You could ship Harry with so many others that wouldn’t be toxic such as, Ginny, Cho, maybe Hermoine (but I prefer Romoine), maybe even Ron if you want to. (I don’t ship Harry and Cedric because the ages are too weird). It’s so obvious throughout the entire book that Harry didn’t have romantic feelings for Draco, he only ever thought he was doing bad things, seeing as he was a bad person. Harry found love in Ginny in like the fifth book? Which is when the crush started, and no one else was in the picture for him once he began dating Ginny. In conclusion, Ginny is the one he married and had children with, not Draco, because he hated him and wanted nothing to do with him as he was nothing but a bully who hated muggles and muggleborns. Seeing as Harry is a half blood, and his mother was muggleborn, why do you think Harry would turn around and be like “oh he’s just broken I’ll fix him.” And ignore everything Draco ever said about his family???? That’s such a toxic thing to think... because believe it or not, in a relationship you’re supposed to be with someone you like as a person. Just because you may find Draco attractive, that doesn’t make him a good person!! Harry would never choose Draco over anyone for that matter. If it were between Ginny or Draco to be saved, you better bet on Harry saving Ginny.

2. Hermoine X Draco

I genuinely hate this ship with my entire being. It disgusts me. This isn’t an enemies to lovers, this is literally bully X victim. Hermoine didn’t fight back, meaning Draco was the full oppressor and she was the oppressed. Draco is a blood supremacist who called Hermoine a mudblood constantly and hated her, and the feeling was mutual from Hermoine because why would anyone like their bully? Falling in love with your bully is a book trope, that doesn’t happen in real life. When Hermoine was being tortured in Malfoy Manor, Draco stood and watched because he didn’t care, meanwhile Ron, the boy Hermoine was attracted to and loved, was screaming and crying begging for him to take her place so she would be protected. That’s true love, something Hermoine and Draco will never have. I really will never understand why so many people love shipping victims with their oppressors... like do you get a sick kick out of it by babying the oppressor? Saying things like “oh he’s just unloved” or “he can change!” When none of that is true. Draco chose to be who he is, which is a blood supremacist and was loved by his family, and Hermoine chose not to ever engage with him because of his personality and attitude. Draco hated her, and everyone else like her because of their status, and overall, Hermoine just isn’t attracted to him. Hermoine is attracted to Ron and he’s the only person I can see dating Hermoine because everyone else would be a bit strange. Dramoine is unbelievably toxic, and all it does is romanticise abuse. “Oh Draco only bullied her for 7 years because he was afraid to love her.” Stfu. You’d never hurt someone you love. Draco bullied her because he thought he was ABOVE her, and she was nothing but dirt on his shoe.

3. Hermoine X Pansy

When it comes to fanon, I still don’t understand why it gets shipped because in order to do that, you have to change Pany’s entire personality to the point where it’s not even Pansy anymore. It’s just some nice girl with the same name. Because the real Pansy bullied Hermoine and made it known how much she didn’t like her. Not only that, but Pansy was head over heels for Draco. This isn’t an enemies to lovers, this is shipping the bully with the victim for some weird reason... because Hermoine didn’t fight back just like Hermoine X Draco. If they were both at each other’s throats I could see your enemies to lovers, but that’s just not what this is. If you ship them because you’re looking for a wlw ship, why not take a look at Ginny X Luna, Lavender X Parvati, or even Tonks X Fleur, rather than picking the toxic ship that would never ever work and would only hurt Hermoine. Ron Weasley exists for a reason. Again, shipping someone with their oppressor is a very weird thing to do. For example, Ron is a pureblood, but Ron wasn’t prejudice towards muggles or muggleborns, because he’s a decent and normal person. Pansy and Draco aren’t decent people, and they bullied people. Really there isn’t much else to say as all canon stuff about Pansy is about her bullying people, and encouraging people to capture Harry because SHE’S A BLOOD SUPREMACIST THAT’S ALL SHE IS. Hermoine is a strong and independent woman and would NEVER date someone prejudice like that, she has standards.

4. Lily X Snape

We have to stop with this “she can fix him” mentality, because women don’t exist to fix men. Either Snape was a good person, or a bad person. He should be able to choose that himself. Which he was actually, and he was very clearly a bad person. You can’t force someone to be attracted to another. Attraction forms on its own, and it’s something Lily never had for Snape, they were only friends. To say that Lily owed Snape something because he liked her... is so wrong and disgusting. If she doesn’t like him, she doesn’t like him and Snape should fucking move on instead of obsessing over her. But, Snape overall was a creep so you can’t say “oh he made a mistake” when that man knew EXACTLY what he was doing. Ripping Lily’s happy photograph of her with her husband and baby, and taking the letter she wrote for Sirius who Snape could pretend she did that for him. Literally disgusting. Even the friendship was toxic. When reading I realised that Snape played the victims card a lot when talking about the marauders as if he wasn’t doing WORSE thing to them. Lily knew that Snape wanted to join Voldemort, as seen in the books. ‘You and your previous little death eater friends — you see, you don’t even deny it. You don’t even deny that’s what you’re aiming to be! You can’t wait to join you-know-who, can you?” Then she says “I can’t pretend anymore, you’ve chosen your way, and I’ve chosen mine.” Lily PRETENDED that Snape wasn’t going to be a death eater because she didn’t want to believe that her own friend would hate her kind so much. Though once reality hit her she was gone and was never coming back. To ship someone who was oppressed with the oppressor is so weird and wrong, and I genuinely think you’re strange if you do that 😐. Snape already didn’t like Lily having other friends... so what does that tell you about what kind of relationship they would have? A manipulative one and an emotionally abusive one. James Potter was a pureblood, and not once did he ever bully someone for their blood status. He did things to Snape because Snape was a prejudice piece of shit and deserved it quite frankly. I would have done the exact same thing. Remember, the Potter’s were ‘blood traitors’ and Snape was a blood supremacist, of course the two aren’t going to like one another. But the difference is, Snape bullied innocent people (laughing at the fact Mary MacDonald was subdued to dark magic) and James fought back for those without voices. Getting revenge for people who couldn’t do it themselves. That’s the difference between a bully and a hero tbh. There’s no way Lily would ever date a death eater, she’s a strong woman who can make up her mind for herself rather than having people on the internet say things like “she was brainwashed!” And things like that. She became attracted and fell in love with a respectful man who would never cause her any type of emotional or physical harm.

In conclusion, I will judge you if you think shipping abusers/oppressors with their victims is ok in any way.

If you made it this far, feel free to comment or reblog with your own opinion. Just know that my opinion on these ships will never change because they’re all extremely toxic whether you like it or not. That’s just common sense. It’s canon that Draco, Pansy, and Snape were horrible people who liked to make fun of others. Fanon doesn’t mean a single thing in this because fanon isn’t real. If you have to change the entire personality of someone so they aren’t abusive... what does that tell you about their character? A lot of people do this because they like how a character looks, which is so tone deaf. If you think a victim should date their oppressor because of looks... I’m judging you heavily. If a character is wrote to be abusive, I don’t understand people do fan art of them with the people they hurt in a romantic way.

You might say I’m being over dramatic, but really it’s not that hard to understand that you shouldn’t romanticise abuse or say that oppressor X victim would make the perfect couple just because of their looks.

Would you ever ship Neville with Draco? No you wouldn’t. And it’s not for the reasons you would think. I bet if Neville was conveniently attractive (in the books, I love Matthew.) people would have shipped him with Draco despite Draco mercilessly bullying Neville for 7 years. A lot of people would have made excuses like “Draco was broken!” In order to be able to ship two attractive men together. (Which also plays into fetishisation of lgbt+ couples I think...) This fandom is rather toxic when it comes to this, and they’d rather ship a very abusive relationship with two conventionally attractive people rather than a loving one with two people that aren’t.

[wildernessuntothemselves]

I’m Yours, You’re Mine | 2

Word Count: 2.6k

Genre: Smut, future angst

Summary:  You’ve always wished to take a more dominant role in bed, but Chan just wasn’t having it. So when you see an opportunity to do just that with Felix, you can’t help yourself. But you soon come to regret your drunken decision for a reason other than that you’d cheated on your boyfriend with his own bestfriend.

Warnings: Cheating, justifying cheating (badly), yandere!felix, sub!felix, dom!reader, reader tries to pressure chan into subbing, felix getting pegged in a kitten maid outfit, excessive use of whore and slut and noona, degradation, felix messy

Gif Credit

It was a mistake. You had decided. You were both too drunk and horny to think it through and it was best to forget it all.

Felix, however, refused to drop it which really only cemented in your mind that it’s the right decision to stop this thing before it starts. If he’s kicking up this much fuss about it and you’ve barely done anything, what is he gonna do if you got more involved later? No, it’s over and you’d told him as such. You don’t want him and it had been a mistake.

But at night, when you’re all alone with your thoughts after chan had fucked you and gone to sleep, you can’t help but think of the freckled boy and how he had followed your every order so obediently. You touch yourself every night to the memory of it, how good he sounded touching himself for you. It has become a sort of escapism for you, a way to let out your frustrations every time Chan doesn’t let you take the lead.

It pissed you the fuck off, how condescending he’d sound when telling you to ‘stop messing around, babygirl’ as he proceeds to pin you down and fuck you from behind. Still, you keep trying because maybe if he’d let you have this, you wouldn’t run to other men to satisfy your needs.

"Baby, take a look at this." You call out to Chan who was sitting on the chair next to you, turning your laptop screen towards him so he'd see the costume you were looking at, a cat maid outfit for men. He scrunches his nose at it and laughs, "That's certainly something."

"You don't like it?" You pout and he looks at you incredulously. "You do?" 

"I don't know.” You shrug, once again feeling ridiculed. It’s not like you haven’t worn a schoolgirl or a sexy nurse outfit for him before when he’d asked. “I just think you'd look cute in it. And with halloween coming up and everything--"

"I’m gonna stop you right there, baby. Absolutely not."

"Why not?" You whine like a child.

"Because it's embarrassing!"

"But it's halloween, it’s supposed to be crazy. No one will care, they might even like it. I’d really like it.." 

"No. Pick something else." He deadpans but you keep pushing. "But I want this!"

Chan gets off his chair and sits on the couch next to you, grabbing your jaw and pulling you close to his face. “Baby, I’m a man, not a toy for you to play with and dress up as you please. You never mentioned any of this stuff before and you can’t just drop this on me now and expect me to do what you please.” 

“But why can’t you at least try?” 

“I’m not interested.” He answers slowly, emphasizing every word. "Now stop pressing or I'll put your pretty little mouth to better use."

____________________

You’re standing alone in a corner, nursing your drink as you watch the party-goers mingle and have fun, when you suddenly feel someone wrap their arms around you and press up their body against your back. You don’t flinch, already knowing who it is. 

“Hey, baby, wanna go out for a bite?” The stupid pickup line only serves to make you more annoyed at the boy behind you and you wince as he digs his fake fangs into the skin of your shoulder. Shrugging the man off, you turn to face him. “I thought strong women made you flaccid.” 

The sour smile on his face only lasts for a second before it turns patronizing. “That’s not true. I was very into Kim Possible.” He cups your cheek and leans down close to your face, his nose touching yours. “But I’d fuck Shego too.” 

You push his hand away and step back, stopping the kiss he was going for. “Sorry, but this Shego isn’t interested in getting fucked.”

Chan rests his hands on his hips and lets out a heavy sigh. “How long are you gonna stay mad at that?”

“How long is your fragile masculinity gonna keep you from satisfying your girlfriend in bed?” 

He steps towards you angrily, getting all up in your face again. “Don’t you dare! I always make you cum.”

“So? I can make myself cum just fine on my own. But what I actually want from you, you’re not giving to me.” 

“You’re fucking unbelievable.” He yells, face turning red as he prepares to launch into his own angry rant when something catches his eyes and he bursts out laughing. “Oh, for fucks sake.”

You look at him in confusion and he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you around.  “Take a look at Felix, honey.” He murmurs sardonically.

With narrowed eyes, you search for the blonde among the crowd of people gathered at your apartment, wondering why Chan was stopping your oh-so-important argument for this. But when your eyes land on him, they blow wide open. Felix is dressed in the exact outfit you’d shown Chan wished earlier, complete with the cat eats and the little bell around his neck. He looked perfect. 

“Look at how ridiculous he looks.” Chan’s voice cuts into your thoughts as he leans down to jeer in your ear. "And you wanted me to look like that. Hey, maybe Lix will bend over and let you fuck him if you ask." 

He says it with the most sarcasm and contempt he can muster before shoving you a little bit forward and walking off. But it’s far from a joke to you. There is nothing funny about the gorgeous boy looking like he just came out of your wildest dreams. 

With anger and lust mixing dangerously in your veins, you march straight to Felix, and without even greeting him, you grab him by the arm and pull him into the bathroom that was further into the apartment and lock the both of you inside. 

Pushing him against the sink, you grab his hair and force him to look at himself in the mirror. "What is the meaning of this?"

“Noona?” He wonders uneasily, playing innocent. 

“How the fuck did you get this?” 

“I found it on the internet, noona.” 

“Oh, you found it, huh?” You scoff, running your hand over the black and white outfit. “You just happened to find the exact same costume I was showing to Chan a few weeks back?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, noona.” He stares at your reflection through his lashes, doing his best to look meek and clueless. Growling, you shove your hand between his legs, grabbing at his half-hard dick and making him squeal. 

“Oh, you don’t, do you? You’re such a fucking whore, Felix.” He moans, bucking his hip into your hand. "You know I belong to your hyung and you're just gonna betray him like that?"

He shakes his head earnestly, "No, noona. I’m not trying to."

"Don't lie. Little whore only thinks with his cock." You hiss, letting your other hand fall from his hair to his chest, your fingers roughly pulling at his nipples through the thin fabric covering them. 

“Ah--fuck--noona!” He cries, thrusting his dick against your hand more and more. "I'm a good boy. You know that noona."

“Then what is is?” You pull his skirt up to clearly show his now fully hard dick straining against the panties he’s wearing. And when you do, you stop in your tracks. 

"Are those my panties?" You shriek, pushing him flat over the marble countertop and flipping the skirt over his ass so you can see the black panties more clearly. “You fucking creep!”

You hook your thumbs under the waistband and yank the panties down, getting even more of a shock when you see what he has under them. 

"Shit." You breathe, momentarily forgetting all about the panties as you stare at the pink butt plug wedged snuggly in his ass. When you reach out and tap the base of it, Felix's legs buckle. “Is this part of the costume too?”

He stays quiet, burying his face into his arms and you scoff. "God, you're such a slut." You grab the plug and pull it back, only to slam it back in all at once. His scream is muffled against his arms but he eagerly pushes his hips back into you. 

You take a few seconds to get your breathing under control. Once again you can’t believe what is in front of you. You’ve only dreamt about something like this before, but here is Felix giving it all to you without you even asking. How can you resist?

"Don't move." You hiss in his ear, ignoring his little moan of protest as you pull away and step out of the bathroom.

You get what you want from your room as fast as you possibly can before going back to the bathroom and finding that Felix has actually not stayed still, and is now standing up and nervously fiddling with his fingers.

"Didn't I say to not move?"

"I was afraid someone would come in." He mumbles.

“Afraid people will find out what a whore you are, you mean.” You step in and lock the door behind you before you before you show him what you have in the box you just retrieved. 

You smile at his gasp when he sees you pull out the strap you own, the one you never even got to show to Chan before. Cocking your head to the side, you stare at the shaking boy. “You’ll let me fuck you, won’t you, Lixie?” 

He nods before you even finish your question. “Of course, noona. You can do whatever you want to me.” 

You smirk like you expected nothing less than that, but in reality you were riding high off of the fact that he so easily gave into you without you even needing to coax him. It made you wanna give him everything he asks for. 

But Felix’s enthusiasm is dampened a little when he sees you putting the strap-on over your costume. Pouting, he asks you, “You’re not gonna take anything off, noona?”

"I don't need to take anything off to fuck you." You reply simply and he lets out an insolent whine. “But I wanna see your body. I never got to see it up-close.” 

Your face turns hard and Felix takes a moment to realize the implication of what he just said. “So you’re saying you’ve seen my body before? Have you been spying on me too, you little shit?” 

He stays quiet, staring at the floor. 

“You’re such a fucking pervert. I ought to tell Chan about all of this.” You push him around to face the mirror again and press his body against the countertop. “The outfit. The panties. The spying.” You grit, taking the butt plug out of his ass and running your fingertips up and down his open hole.

“No, please don’t tell him.” He whimpers, face pressed against the cool marble. 

“Why shouldn’t I? He should know what his precious friend is up to behind his back.” You squeeze some lube over your fingers before you push one inside of him. It goes in easily so you add the second one right away, pressing down as you pump your fingers in and out of his ass.

“Nghh--noona--noona!” He squirms under you, hands grasping to find any purchase over the smooth countertop. “Please, fuck me.”

You can’t really deny him for long, already feeling like you could cream your panties just watching him break down under you. As you push the didlo in, he lets out a loud keen that turns into heavy panting as you start rocking your hips into his. 

“Thank you, noona.” His voice is garbled and you pull him up by the hair to make him stand up so you can look at his face while you fuck him. He looks like an absolute mess of drool and flushed cheeks, his dick leaking little drops on the floor. 

"What a tiny dick you have, Lixie.” You can't help but stare at it and the leather garter belt he has around his thigh with a metallic heart looped in it. Wrapping your hand his wet dick, you start pumping it as you thrust into his ass. “No wonder you can't dom a girl. I probably have a bigger dick than yours."

“I’m sorry, n-noona. Please use me--ahh--however you want.” He sobs, barely able to hold himself up in your arms. 

“Use you for what? You’re a complete mess. You wouldn’t be able to satisfy me even if you tried.” You fuck him harder, quickening the pace of your strokes on his twitching dick and shivering at the sounds that fill up the room, from the snap of your hips against his ass, to the slick sound of you jerking him off, to the whiny moans he's letting loose to the tune of the bell in his choker. “But it’s okay, I’ll just think about this when Channie is fucking my brains out tonight.” 

Suddenly his face changes, taking on a dark and sinister hue that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. But you can’t let him intimidate you. If you can’t even dom Felix then Chan is right not to take you seriously. Besides, if you want to keep this going, you have to have him under a tight leash or else he’ll go rogue and expose the both of you. 

"What? You have something to say?" You challenge, but he stays quiet, his lips curled into a mean sneer. "You're just a toy for me and if you want me to keep playing with you, you need to learn your place. Is that understood?"

But Felix doesn’t respond, continuing to stare you down through the mirror. 

“You want me to leave you high and dry like last time? Because that’s what you’ll get if you don’t back down, kitten.” You warn him, your thrusts turning from fast and hard to slow and deep, and your grip on his cock tightening. “Come on, who is my good boy?” 

Finally, he relents, throwing his head back over your shoulder and moaning out, “I am, noona.” 

“Prove it or else I’ll have no use for you.” You smatter stinging kisses all over the side of his neck in retaliation for taking so long, and you feel him gulping under your lips. "Come on, little slut, squirt out that cum for me." 

“Yes, noona, just need a little more.” He grunts obediently, thrusting his cock up into your closed fist in time with your own thrusts into his ass. "Aahh--noona--fuck---noona!" His hands reach back and his fingers dig into your flesh as he cums, using his hold on you to keep standing upright.

“That’s it. That’s it.” You coo, taking a bit too long before you stop touching him, letting him suffer the pain of overstimulation for a minute, his eyes blown wide as his mouth hangs open as he stares at you with glazed over eyes in the mirror, his cum dripping down your hand and making a small puddle on the floor under you. 

“You’ll keep being a good boy, won’t you, Lixie?” You press a soft kiss under his ear that makes him shiver. Letting the tension out of his body, he relaxes back into your arms and closes his eyes. 

“Yes, Noona.” 

____________

A/N: next chapter is using one of those remote control vibrators on lixie in public uwu oh and making him watch chan fuck reader :))))) 

feedback keeps me going and makes me upload faster like this :))))

[lwt28brave]

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.