#did I just write a sheet about all the red flags and closed it with the simple fact that I'm into it and I don't give a f?

[konigsblog]

I’m sorry this is a ramble but this thought plagues me and I just can’t write so . Spare me my agony here; older stalker Konig.

He sees you at work, some pretty young thing at a seedy diner or bar, barely old enough to be employed there at all. Too young to be working, you’re something he thinks should be housed away and pampered like some dumb pet, so silly of you to not settle down already. Low hanging fruit is what he takes you for, with how naive and innocent you seem; no concept of the world, of seedy men like himself with too much time and money on his hands, his red flags too visible to anyone who knows what to look for. And you poor, poor thing have no clue what he’s like, his faux charm and large tips and solid build blinding you of his true intentions.

He watches, becomes a regular, gets to know you and make small talk and leave fat tips and cheesy compliments that make you giddy and flustered despite the odd air he has about him or the way your coworkers whisper that he’s no good. Eventually his regular appearances turn into him staying til close, then offering to walk you home his possessive streak covered up by vigilant protectiveness that leaves you dizzy with his little touches to your arm or the small of your back, the nearly parental way he kisses your forehead at your door.

Little did you know he’s been planning the whole time; memorizing your work schedules, your daily schedule, the things you eat or drink, places you go on your days off, watching you through your apartment window or sneaking in when you’re out of the house to raid your dirty laundry or leave a gross surprise of his cum in your leftovers. He’s a shadow in your life, always lurking in the background of every scene no matter where you are or what you’re doing. Eventually he’s sneaking in when you’re asleep, so silent for such a behemoth of a man, so he can paw at your soft and prone form while he pants and spills into his hand like a dog in rut while you’re none-the-wiser, unaware of the way he smears his soiled hand on your skin, your cunt, your pillow or sheets.

When he finally takes things further, too determined to do anything but hoard you all to himself, he’s so sweetly condescending as he relays just how long he had planned everything, how cute and stupid you were to never realize what he had been doing all this time, the bits of himself he left around your apartment, on you, inside of you as a precursor to him claiming you fully. You’ve already consumed so much of his seed, you’ll be fine taking it from the source like a good girl Schatz, nicht? Sure his cock is big, but he knows the best ways to stretch your tight hole already, so you’ll be fine! Just stop thinking and let him have you already, he’s worked so hard for you, your the center of his world. His stupid little Liebling, pathetic and confused as she struggles against her bindings and his hands, no choices left but to plead until her voice dies and give herself over to him, because nothing could convince him to accept no as the answer.

anon, my jaw is on the floor, i absolutely adore older stalker-könig and his creepiness. (⁠╥⁠﹏⁠╥⁠)

CW: RAPE/NON-CON, AGE GAP, STALKING. 🪦🕊️

DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. 18+

my brain rots at the thought of könig sliding inside for the first time, holding your wrists down beside your head as he begins rocking gently. the way he cocks his head to the side almost mocking you, taunting you for being so easy, so pliant, and so vulnerable and naïve around him. the faux sympathy and empathy leaves you longing for his sweet praise, but when you're slapped for falling for the mask he puts on, you sob harder with his slicken cock hammering against your cervix, stuffed inside that inexperienced cunt. it's as if you wanted this to happen, to be used and controlled as if you were a puppet, with your inappropriate and flirty comments after each cheesy, overly sweet compliment he gives you, unaware of his seriousness, how this was a part of his plan to reduce you to a mutt, with your purpose being to serve a man, könig.

he hides himself so well, and you take the bait, falling for the façade of a gentle, older male with sweet intentions. looking back, you can only let out pitiful and pained cries as you connect the dots and realise your stupidity, finally realising what you fell for, how stupid you must look on your back begging for him to stop when he'd given you so many hints and chances to flee, your voice becoming quiet and strained as you plead. the rough texture of his old, scarred skin over your mouth to silence you, against your soft and supple skin, your body shaking with each thrust, showing you what you're worth, what your purpose truly is.

könig shows you what reality is, getting you out of your stupid head, that's doing you no good as he continues with his violation and assault. he teaches you that life isn't fantasy, how you don't know everyone and their intentions or who they truly are, or how you'll fall for it and become a wolf's prey within seconds due to your kindness and naivety, how you never accuse anyone and hope they mean well, too naïve for your own good and assuming the best about everyone. leading you to be forced to take every inch of the man's experienced, hung cock, with your eyes glistening and horrified, and the smell of him on your bedsheets reminding you, or the cum stains along your shirts and panties.

or, perhaps the bruises and marks he leaves along your skin as a warning, or maybe as a sign of ownership - who you belong to, who owns you.

how could you be so foolish? :(

[iznsfw]

was wondering if you ever thought about writing a taeyeon smut with breeding/squirting kink

Setup

Part Three of Dulce Periculum | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Girls Generation's Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader Smut

5,273 words

Categories | exactly what's in the ask: breeding and squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, light bondage, overstimulation, uniform sex, subbymommy!Taeyeon

Of course I thought about it! I would have written a hundred more fics for Taeng like I did with Eunbi if I weren't a lazy fuck LMAO This chapter is already barely edited!

Anyway, here's best girl. Please enjoy and await the next chapter ;)

"That was… something."

Eunbi's on your lap again, as she always is. It would be no surprise if it's become what she uses for everything now: a school chair, a backseat, everything. Her glasses are tilted to the side and her skirt is a bit too undone for suspicion to not be cast, for questions to not be said: “Why do you look tired?”; “Do you need a ride home?”; “Were you fucking Ms. Kim?”

Already she's forgotten about her earlier volleyball game loss, which is a good thing, you guess, since a disappointed frown no longer dimples her cute face. You'd rather have this Eunbi: a smiley one, clinging to you as if the two of you were magnetic forces that can't be separated without a fight, with her hair down and her body resting on yours. 

Comfort. That's the word.

You've no idea how you look like, but from the way she's attending to you—brushing your messy hair with her fingers and easing the bruises on your neck with soft massages—you'd say you look pretty fucked up, in a word-for-word kind of way, And the blame is on Kim Taeyeon, certified freak in the sheets and a pretty awesome teacher besides all that.

("In the classroom" would be a more fitting phrase. She completely dominated you and your girlfriend as if she owned you, and it's safe to say that after that, she does. It's something you're more than happy to give in to.)

"Are you okay? You'll have to use makeup for this, oppa," coos Eunbi as she worriedly massages a hickey. 

"My parents won't give a fuck, Eun. They'd be glad to know I'm getting laid."

She pushes her bottom lip out understandingly and nods. 

"What about you?"

"Uhh," she thinks for a moment, "my parents wouldn't see—"

"No." Reword that: "What I meant is: are you okay?" 

She beams. Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl—that charming little smile dances in your mind like an act at a circus. "I'm alive, aren't I?" 

"No, I mean, are you okay with the whole insult thing?" You push her lopsided glasses back on her nose. She kisses you appreciatively. "She called you… what? 'Naughty little girl'?"

"You can say I am," singsongs Eunbi as she toys with your uniform tie. Her smile is wider, a little more mischievous. God, what has Taeyeon done to her? "Right, oppa?"

"Whatever."

"What? You don't like it?" She's pouting, knowing how much that little downward quirk of her lips affects your heart. She curls her arms around your neck and drags her face closer to yours. The old Eunbi would have known better than to put on PDA in school, considering it goes against several student regulations, but she's starting to become a little more coy than usual. Her flushed cheeks tell you that she likes doing that for you, too.

"No, I do," you clarify, your hands sliding down to her tiny waist. "But I just want to, like, know if you're fine with everything. I mean, she likes to talk down on you, maybe even hurt your feelings while doing it. You sure it doesn't raise a red flag?"

"Oh, 'red flag'! Oppa keeps up with the lingo!"

Roll your eyes. Here we fucking go. "You know that I'm barely older than you, right?”

Eunbi giggles. She curls her little arms around you and pulls you close.

Taper your gaze south and you can see there are bruises on her shoulders, and a couple more on her thighs and legs that her skirt fails to hide. Hearing that cute laugh from her causes you to wonder if you're the problem. What did you do to Eunbi? What have you turned her into? A year or two back, she was just a cute little honor student with time in her packed schedule to allow for tutoring you. Now, she's constantly on your lap, as if it's her favorite seat, with the sweet smile on her face proving to be deceptive whenever she guides your hand up her skirt. 

Do you like it? Fuck yeah. Do you feel just a little bit guilty for corrupting her? That's also a yes.

"I'm fine with it," says Eunbi softly. "More than okay."

Her eyes are serious, but hold a gentleness in them that makes you want to pull her down and kiss her, and not even sexually. It brings you at least some comfort to know that whatever you made her into, she actively participates and allows. It would be a whole different thing if it weren't that way.

"You sure?" 

"Yes, my cute little oppa. Stop worrying about me." Eunbi kisses your nose again. "Let's go home?"

You look around. The covered court is empty, except for the remaining volleyball nets and confetti. The high school buildings are also silent. Taeyeon's car is gone from the driveway. Nobody is here but the two of you. 

Has looking at your empty school always been this nostalgic? You used to view education as nothing but a filler and obstacle in your schedule, but being with Eunbi makes you look forward to the future. Having your arm around her as you walk to your locker and sitting with her during lunch has significantly brightened your day. Even your grades started to improve—maybe love is the answer all along?

As corny as it sounds, it might be.

Your satisfied grin is genuine. Picking up the small girl bridal-style, you take the long day head in full stride. "Let's go home, pretty girl."

-

“Why are you home so late?”

Eunbi’s mother squints suspiciously as the two of you enter her house. You’ve come over to visit your girlfriend’s family more times than you can count, but after being royally fucked over by Kim Taeyeon, you can barely look her in the eyes. 

“Sorry, mommy– mom,” fumbles Eunbi. Her ears are red; the word sounds strange now after she’s used it on a woman twice her age, most especially if said woman’s her teacher.  She shrugs off your arm and steps out of her school shoes. “We stopped by the gym.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say to support the statement, considering you didn’t know until Eunbi mentioned it that there’s a gym nearby. It’s time to bulk and lift, you guess.

You and Eunbi stand guiltily at the doorway of the Kwon household, heads hung like faultful puppies. How to deal with Mrs. Kwon after you fucked her daughter and a nymphomaniac professor wasn’t exactly written down in the boyfriend manual. That’s why your mouth has nothing to say, and your hands go nowhere but your pockets. It’s an awkward situation you wouldn’t wish on even the most horrible school rival. 

“You had sex, didn’t you?” 

The bold, no-bullshit question makes Eunbi’s ears burn. Flustered, she shakes her head more times than someone who isn’t guilty should. “No!” she denies, as if offended by the thought of it. “Mom, why would you say that?” 

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Kwon says, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. Her smile is hilariously condescending. “I know you get stressed when I make you attend all those extracurriculars. My little girl needs some relief, too, just like her dad—”

Your eyes widen.

“Ew!” Eunbi rushes into your arms and places her hands on her ears. “Mom, stop, what the fuck!”

“No swearing!” scolds her mother as she skips over to the kitchen to make dinner, her day slightly better now that she’s fulfilled her duty as a parent to humiliate Eunbi. “Make sure to be on the pill, my silver rain! Mommy loves you so much!”

Eunbi’s hiding her face in her palms, pressing them hard on her cheeks that it’s started to mold to their shape. You, on the other hand, are cackling, You’re having the time of your fucking life, slapping your knees like an entry to Heaven depends on it. You can’t believe the strict Mrs. Kwon would be so straightforward about that. It’s certainly a break of character, and an embarrassing but welcome one.

Your girlfriend glares at you. “It’s not funny!” she whines, punching you in the shoulder. “Oppa, how can you even laugh about that?”

“I’m sorry, Eunbi—” Interrupted by your own laughs, you apologize profusely. Still, your eyes make half-moon crescents and your stomach starts to hurt from giggling. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s just—”

“Oppa!” 

"What did she say, baby? Mommy loves you so much—"

“You’re so mean to me!”

“No, wait, wait, wait, you’re not going anywhere.” Sweep her into your arms again when the upset Eunbi turns around to leave. She mewls in protest, but you kiss her over and over, arms ribboned tight around her body. Your laughing lips start to feel numb with how much they’ve touched her pale, milky skin. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re not!”

Look down at Eunbi’s angry face and kiss her on the nose. That should work usually, but it seems like she’s really upset this time. “Oh, come on, baby,” you say. “I said I was sorry. What can I do to make you smile?”

Eunbi looks away like an upset bunny. It’s hard to keep a serious face when she’s too adorable even in times where she’s annoyed. 

“Tell me,” you urge. “I promise I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Bring my uniform to school,” says Eunbi, still refusing to look you in the eye. As she speaks, she unbuttons her blouse and slips out of her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a camisole and volleyball shorts. “We’re training again tomorrow and I don’t want to carry it in my bag. And quit staring at my chest, perv!”

“Sorry.” Close your eyes for a few seconds, then open them, as if doing so would chasten them. The next second, Eunbi’s uniform is in your arms. “Where do I put it?”

“Give them to Professor Kim.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re”—minimize your voice so Mrs. Kwon wouldn’t hear, just in case she'd been eavesdropping the whole time—”fucking her without me.”

“Oppa,” Eunbi interrupts. Her expression is suddenly serious. “Just do it, please?”

-

Oh, yeah, as weird as her request is, you don’t say no. If she's merely having your professor do her laundry or arranging a time for some one-on-one tutoring sessions, you take the clothes and take the trip. When Eunbi's upset, you transform into an overly nurturing father. 

You almost told the school guard you’re there for boyfriend duties. He’s a friendly guy and would have understood if you actually said it, but you’re so irritated by having to drive all the way back to school that you don’t find it in you to crack jokes.  

You meet Taeyeon in the faculty room. “Good afternoon, Professor,” you say, unsure if you should go on with the mommy thing.

Taeyeon is now dressed in a blouse layered with a brown fur sweater. Her beam is so different from the predatory smirk that was on her face earlier. “Good afternoon, pretty boy.” She looks down at Eunbi’s uniform. “What’s this?”

“Um.” You scratch the back of your neck, still flustered by Taeyeon’s coy remark. “Eunbi asked me to give it to you.”

“Ah, thank you. Would you check on me in three minutes, please?”

Another strange request from another beautiful woman. Trying not to look confused, you nod. “Uh, sure, Professor.”

Taeyeon kisses you on the cheek then brings the uniform with her to the bathroom.

You’re becoming more and more suspicious by the second. Everything falls into place a little too perfectly. Wasn’t Taeyeon’s car away from the driveway? If so, why is she here? Why did Eunbi ask you to bring her uniform, and what is your professor doing with them in the bathroom? You’re so close to figuring it out, but anytime you join the puzzle pieces together, they don’t make the right picture.

Three minutes pass anyway, and maybe it’s a wrong decision to knock on the faculty bathroom door, but you do, and—

"You're back, baby boy."

The door opens, as if it were an ominous curtain to one of the drama club's plays.

And the main character herself is in full costume: your teacher pushes her little weight onto the sink with one, practiced hand, dressed head to toe in the school uniform. It's not just any skirt and blouse she's donning—you come to realize that it’s the uniform you gave to her, that it actually belongs to Eunbi. With how slim she is, the uniform fits Taeyeon like a glove.

Her hair is perfectly messed up into brown falls of pillow-soft beauty. Her gaze falls nothing short of sultry, and so do the rest of her actions. Even the way she sets her hand on her hip is graceful. Each thing she does is designed to seduce you, and you'd be a filthy liar if you said it wasn't working.

Her name is all you can say. What else can you utter when she's completely stolen your breath? Locked it into her heart so that it could inhale nothing more than her desire and lust?

"I told you we weren't done yet, didn't I?" Taeyeon says. "And I always keep my word, especially for sweet baby boys like you."

"Mommy…" The title falls from your mouth seamlessly, as if it were a natural thing to say.

"You know," she goes on, suspense in each step as she approaches you, "I wasn't really satisfied with how you bred me. I wanted to really feel what your little girlfriend gets every night from you."

"Did you plan this?" 

"You got me." Taeyeon pulls you close. She's smaller than you, but her dominance overpowers that. "Ms. Kwon wants me to feel good. She only wants the best cum for her mommy, and she chose you."

Ah, everything makes sense now. You should have known something was up when Eunbi smiled a little more cheekily, or when she remained on her phone during the ride home. How could you have let it happen right under your nose?

"So, won't you give mommy more, baby? Please?"

You think about it. You've got one of the hottest women you know standing in front of you with the sexiest uniform on. Is this really a chance you'd let slip?

No, but—

"Hands?"

Taeyeon nods immediately. It's as if she knows what you're about to do, so why is she surprised while you tug the uniform tie from her neck in one, swift pull?

Take her thin wrists after she turns around and bind them together with said tie. Taeyeon moans in excitement, even more so when you sweep her off her feet and place her onto the sink counter. The setting is less sexy than you want it to be, but you settle for it. What matters is what you do.

Part her legs and lift the lapels of the offending skirt out of the way. No panties; your teacher is truly the boldest. 

Taeyeon's pussy is as ethereal as ever. Her thighs are slick from the wetness it exudes, and from that alone you can just tell that she's been fantasizing about having you fuck her for a while. When you glide your finger across the drenched slit, she whines loudly. Her back knocks at the bathroom mirror.

"Baby, please," she whispers. The plea written in her face is genuine. She tries, to the best of her bound ability, to squirm her hips in your direction. It's an unsuccessful attempt, needless to say. "I need you."

"What do you need, Taeyeon?" Yes, you're shedding the mommy formalities now, even going as far to call her by her first name. Calling her by her sexual title is absurd when you've got her fully under your control. 

"Need your tongue." 

She lifts her head high like she's reaching heaven due to your teasing kisses on her inner thighs. They draw the path to her soaked cunt, which clenches around thin air as it waits for you to put it out of its misery.

"A little more specific, please?"

"Need your mouth," whimpers Taeyeon. You're crossing uncharted waters now as you kiss around her folds. Her ecstasy is so close, yet so far. "Need your mouth on me. Need you to make me feel good, baby, please."

The watery look in her eyes convinces you to stop the foreplay. You hold Taeyeon's thighs and spread them apart, squeezing them as you go, then go for the kill.

"Ohhh!" With the tie around her wrists, Taeyeon can't hold onto anything but her own fingers to deal with your tongue. You make sure to drum it on her clit as you pump in a finger into her drenched hole. "Baby, oh my god, baby, that feels so good!"

Taeyeon's taste is one you'd remember forever. The tangy sweetness is addicting, and if you could keep your mouth on her pretty pussy forever, you would. For this reason, you serve rough, languid flicks with your tongue on her nub, and strengthen the force of your fingerfucking. With the combined pleasure, Taeyeon squeezes down so tightly that, if her wetness were nonexistent, it would be hard to move. It's lucky that each thrust draws out plenty of delicious nectar.

Taeyeon's thighs quiver as they try to keep themselves open. Her loud sighs fill your ears, and they turn into whiny cries when you brush your fingertips against a certain spot on her walls. Her lips are pursed, her stomach is tight, and her jaw is slack. She learned self-control as a teacher, especially when dealing with rowdy classes, but experience can't stop her incessant mewls.

"Baby, baby, baby," whimpers Taeyeon. "Please. Oh, oh my god, please, I need you."

"That's right, Taeyeon," you say. You lift your head to smirk at her, adding another finger. "You look so pretty when you're being a good girl."

Taeyeon gasps for composure as the praise leaves her more drenched. Your fingers aren't helping at all—they know each curve and spot that makes her writhe. When you've cornered her weaknesses and targeted them, her formal acts as a teacher go straight out of the window. In this school bathroom, she's no longer a teacher, she's not the one in control. Here, she's your good girl, and you'll lord it over her as much as you please.

Your digits curl. Taeyeon's back curves as her screams bounce off the tiled walls. You place a spare hand over her mouth. Her breaths hit your palm with the pleasant company of her broken moans. 

"Keep quiet," you say, boring her down with your glare. Her eyes return a frenzied, lustful look. "There could still be people outside, you know. Wouldn't want them knowing how weak you can get for one of the delinquents, no?"

Taeyeon's folds swallow your fingers as they move, and when you finally get knuckle-deep inside her, they hold onto them and refuse to let it go. Therefore, you're forced to thrust bluntly, keeping the length of them inside her and reaching places that her slim ones can only dream of reaching.

She shakes her head. Her long toned legs start to kick wildly. You've seen that before, and you know what it means: she's about to cum. Hard.

She's chanting your name for the hundredth time. Lips pursed, eyes shut, she cries for more. You're a known rebel at school, but you choose this order as one you'd follow. 

You place your mouth on her pussy again. As you stimulate the sensitive skin with daring licks and thrusts of your tongue, Taeyeon kicks and moans. She'd do so many things to you if her hands weren't tied: grab your head and pull it deeper between her legs, squeeze her own tits under her blouse, probably even try to wrestle for the upper hand. But she's left as another pretty girl who's yours to use, and for this time, you choose to assault her pink, soaked cunt with your mouth.

The hand that was on her mouth earlier is now firmly rubbing eights on her clit. Taeyeon's screams aren't muffled anymore, and as much as they're loud and deafening, you enjoy it. Who wouldn't when this woman, this forbidden bombshell of a woman, is looking down at you with breaths that quake like her thighs, and says, in a strangled whisper: "I'm going to… fuck, I'm gonna—"

You capture her clit in your lips and slide a third finger inside her.

Taeyeon screams. 

Echoing wails of curses and blasphemy leave her open mouth. In everything you do, you do hard and fast. Taeyeon is struggling on the sink, trying to fight her way out of the tight school tie so that she can ride your tongue faster. The only thing she can do is close her thighs to keep you there.

"Baby, oh my god, oh!" Your teacher jerks her spasming core at your tongue, urging it inside her. Her pretty face is beet red. "Mommy's cumming, I can't– I can’t, please, I'm gonna squirt all over your face!"

A spurt of girl cum hits your chin. You slack your jaw to receive more of it in your mouth. You don't stop your frantic licking at her pearl which gets more of the unholy fluid spraying. 

She tastes even better when she cums.

"Yes, that’s a good girl," you say. Replace your tongue with your fingertip to be able to drink from her. As her cum messily hoses in the air, you become a thirsted traveler hooking onto the last resort. You eat of her, you drink of her, you fuck her. "Cum for me. Make a mess like the slut you are. Be a good girl."

Tears run down Taeyeon's face. "Yes, please—hnnn, it's too much!"

Her bundle of nerves suffers rapid swiping that draws fire hydrant-like sprays from her. Her whole body is slithering and twitching erratically, yet you keep rubbing her. And you’re not stopping until her shaking legs are too weak to lift themselves and protest, or her throat becomes sore from screaming. 

You keep that promise. “No, Taeyeon,” you murmur. Rubbing at her core, you smile down at her. “It’s not too much when you’re with me. I know you have more cum in that pretty cunt of yours, and I’m taking it all.”

It’s fascinating how she’s the one on the bottom now. This writhing, whimpering mess of a girl can’t be the same teacher who rules the classroom with an iron fist. But she is, and her change of personas doesn’t fail to amaze you as she cums and squirts even more. The tiles of the bathroom floor now bear a puddle on its surface, and the mirror reflects something other than Taeyeon’s back and your cruel grin.

Taeyeon’s breaths are accented by the lifts and rests of her tight midriff, seen under the uniform. “Please, baby,” she tells you. Her hips fly off the sink and land back on it as it tries to find a way in avoiding and giving in to your hand at the same time. “Baby, baby– baby, mommy can’t anymore.”

"Yes, you can. Keep cumming for me."

"I-I-I…. ahhh!"

Indeed, she cums more. What you thought would soon end with soft drops becomes a blast again. It's wearing Taeyeon out—her arms and legs are sedentary, and groans pronounce through her broken voice. You kiss her neck and collarbone while your finger does away with her pussy, pushing its limits and boundaries.

"God, you're such a good girl." You kiss the insides of her thighs. "That's it, you can do it. Just a bit more for me."

Her center flexes and squeezes to reach the peak of her orgasm. Taeyeon's sighs are loud and stammered, and you gently silence them with a kiss on her mouth. Her moans are sweet and tired, so you slow the rubbing up to the moment Taeyeon's legs stop quaking.

The aftershock halts. Taeyeon's head relies on the bathroom mirror for support. 

"Mmm, oh fuck, baby boy, that felt so good."

"There's more where that came from, mommy."

"Oh, so now you're calling me that."

"Of course, unless…" You pause your careful touches on her legs. "You want me to stop?"

"No, please, don't stop!" Taeyeon shakes her head. 

"Why not, mommy?"

"B-because…" she says, before making eye contact with you. Doing so causes her to stop.

Drum your fingers on her hip. "Yes?"

"'Cause I need you to use me, baby boy. I need you to make me cum again and fill my slutty mommy pussy with your load. Need you, need you to breed me, baby boy. That's all I want."

The most inarticulate sentences from Taeyeon make the most sense to you. When she's trying to fight her way out of the makeshift binds and whimpering even without contact with her skin, what else can be deduced? She's a needy woman, and you're the perfect guy to help her out.

What wouldn't you do to fill that pretty cunt? Her pleas are enough for you; you lift her off the sink and bend her over it instead. Can't resist being rough when she's biting her lip like that. Spank her.

"Gonna breed you, Taeyeon," you rasp. You squeeze her ass that peeks from the folds of her pleated skirt. "Gonna fill you up, and you're gonna take it all, won't you?"

Taeyeon nods, her breath long gone. "Yes, yes, please. Give it to me."

It only takes a few unzips and unbuckles for you to completely fill your teacher. Her whole body tenses up beautifully, and the mirror bounces back to you the image of her orgasmic face: eyelids shut, mouth contrastingly open. 

"Fuck."  Taeyeon bites her lip. "Just like that, b-baby, just keep going."

It's easy to propel yourself inside her when your hands are on her wrists bound behind her bent back. Her trapped fingers crawl and grasp on yours to deal with your anything-but-gentle violations of her pussy. 

You propel pleasured expressions of bliss on her face that you can see on the mirror. You can barely see her irises while you fuck her. Must mean you're doing a good job rearranging her guts. You can feel her stomach when you thrust into her. 

After feeling her nub for a while, you press on the bulge your shaft creates on her belly. "I'm gonna ruin you, Kim Taeyeon," you tell her, to which she whimpers softly in response. "I'm gonna put a fucking baby in your womb. Fill up this pretty pussy with my load. Do you want that?"

"Yes, yes, yesss," she drawls out. "Fucking breed me. Put that big cock to use, baby. I want it all."

"Oh, of course you do." Speed up, spreading her splayed pussy lips to force it into swallowing your whole shaft. Your cockhead knocks against her cervix, and it turns you on more than it should. "Asking your student for a uniform so you can look like a slutty little schoolgirl for me. If you want to be one, then I'm gonna treat you like one."

Spank her. Each blow from your hand on her clapping cheeks causes her cunt to hold your cock tighter. Her hole clenches and twitches as you abuse her ass, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh to hear her desperate, weak cries. This is the most disrespect you've given to a teacher, even if you're already a trouble child. Can't say you aren't enjoying each second that passes.

"Oh my god, yes!" Taeyeon squeals. In a sudden burst of energy, she fucks herself back on your cock, wanting you and everything but for your rod to stop impaling her. "Fuck me, baby, hurt me! Give me your cum!"

"Fucking cumslut. You'll get all of it."

Your fist ribbons around her hair and pulls back harshly. You kiss her neck and nibble on her earlobe. Your hot breath makes her legs tremble and her hands weaken in the restriction of the tie. She's submitting to you completely, allowing you to do as you please to her. What else can she do anyway, when she asked for it: for you to cum in her, to use her, to treat her like a toy? 

Nothing. All she can do is receive your paced thrusts and spanks, be a good girl and bend her body over the sink for your cock to ruin. Never did she think she'd like to be used as much as she likes to use. 

Once you've deemed her ass red enough, you switch your attention to her breasts. They're the perfect size to squeeze, and you do plenty of that once you realize her breasts are just as sensitive as Eunbi's. You pinch the nipples harshly, pulling on them to make her cry and rub them for her to squirm her legs together more. In everything you do, her pussy clamps tighter, and she's pushed closer and closer to an orgasm.

"P-please," she whispers weakly. "More, please, I'm so close."

"Promise me you'll take all of my cum." Pressure her into saying so through rubbing her clit. Her ass reverses into your crotch and her desirable body starts to spasm. "Promise me, baby."

"I'll take all of your cum!" Taeyeon sobs. Her voice is so loud that you're sure it passes through the bathroom door. "My tight little pussy will get all of your hot thick cum, I'll let you breed me! Just please make me cum!"

You bear her head down with one hand into the sink counter and fuck her like you mean it. All gentleness is lost now. You ravage her cunt as if you need to do so to live. Spread her velvety walls with your pumps. Let them remember the shape of your cock so that the next time you fuck her it contracts perfectly to your size. Make her sensitivity reach an all-time high. 

"Big, so big, so hard inside me—fffuck me!" 

Taeyeon leaves a big mess for the janitor to clean up. Her orgasm is wet and violent. It forces her to squirt on the tiled floor and your clothes, forces her to squeeze down so tightly on your rod that it suffocates and explodes inside her. Your groans are humiliatingly loud, but it drowns out in Taeyeon's chants of bliss.

"Oh, shit, baby!" she says. "Give me your cum, breed me, make me a mommy!" 

Her moans are high-pitched unlike her serious tone when she teaches. When she instructs the classroom, it's strict, cutting through the air like a knife. Now, she's whining helplessly when she instructs you to breed her, bearing your drills as you fill her insides with your cum.

You don't pull out. It would be disobeying her commands. So, even when she's turned into your submissive babygirl with the help of your harsh pumps, she's still your teacher. You'll always follow her way.

"Yes… fuck me… breed me… use me…" is the last thing Taeyeon murmurs before she loses her strength and collapses on the sink.

-

You guide Taeyeon to her car and drive her home. She's sleeping beside you on the front passenger seat. Pray nobody sees you as you drive through the exit of your school. 

But before all that, you went through Taeyeon's phone, and you saw her messages. To your surprise, there's a conversation log in which she texts your girlfriend Eunbi.

It reads:

Professor Taeng: You brought your uniform here, sweetheart?

Kwon Eunbi ♥︎: he brought it himself

have fun w him, Mommy :3

Professor Taeng: I will ;). 

[citruswriter]

Orange Fluff/Angst Ascended Astarion x Reader Imagine Drabble

Major, major, major TW on this one guys

He was... different after he ascended. Sure he was still the loving, adoring, and ever so doting Astarion. But you quickly realized that he became utterly obsessed with you. It was cute at first, but it quickly became suffocating. One evening, you broke the news to him. You two were through. Of course he did everything he could to change your mind, but you stood firm. Leaving him to scowl at you and turn cold. "Fine! But it's very much your loss". He spat out.

You left, found another man, fell in love, married. Life was a dream... until it wasn't. Now, years later, you run through the rainy night as you hear your husbands voice call after you. You ran to the only person you knew. Astarion.

He was quite surprised to hear banging on his door so late at night, imagine how much more surprised he was to find you. Out of breath, soaking wet, begging to be let in. "And why should I? You broke my heart and ran off". He'd argue. It wouldn't be until he heard your husband's voice call out your name, calling you every name in the book, as you stood in front of him trembling in utter fear would he finally let you in.

He'd be dramatic, of course. Telling you how lucky you were that he still had a soft spot for you after you utterly shattered his poor, poor heart. You'd let him have his moment, but you wouldn't look at him until he'd finally decide to ask you what you wanted. He'd stare at you in shock and horror as you'd shed your cloak, purple bruises littering your body. A blow on your cheek, hand shaped ones around your wrists, fist shaped ones on your arms and even your chest. "There's more... elsewhere". You'd mutter, face blank and eyes empty.

He'd step forward, rushing you to a bathroom to start a hot bath for you. He'd offer to do your hair as you'd hold the night robe close to your body. He'd gently prod until you'd spill everything. He'd ask you if he did more than beat you. You'd confess that you told your husband about some of the things Cazador did to him, causing him to wince. "I guess he felt inspired", you squeak out as you'd shove the robe off your body, scarred writing on your back in a similar fashion to his. He'd tremble and skim his fingers across the marks, flashbacks running through his mind.

"I was finally able to make a run for it. So I ran and I ran and I didn't stop." You'd mutter out. "But you left. You said I treated you horribly." He'd gently counter. "But he did all the things you'd never dare do". Slipping the robe back up, you'd turn to look at him, staring into those beautiful eyes of his. His dead heart would skip a beat and he'd hold his breath as he'd notice you reach your hand up to touch his face only to bite back a whine as you'd drop it back to your lap. He'd grab your face as you'd go to turn away from him and kiss you, so filled with emotion that he'd fear he might just burst. You'd burst into tears and kiss him back. You'd mutter some apology and he'd hush you and whisper comforting things back to you. You'd stay like this until before you knew it, you were in his bed again. You'd sink into his silk sheets as he'd make you sigh in pleasure, the map to your body still carved into his mind. He'd kiss every bruise and mutter how beautiful you are, how you're safe, how he won't let anybody hurt you again, how he's so happy that you're utterly his again. His. His forever. His always.

A small voice in the back of your head would warn you, maybe tryta scream at you that this was a red flag. But as you let him puncture your neck like you used to do and let his hands gently caress your battered body, you'd squash that little voice out. Shut up. You'd think. I'm his again. His forever. You'll never leave again. Because last time you did, it was very much your loss.

(Might make a oneshot or two part to this).

[marysandbox]

Dress - Taylor Swift x Reader

Summary: The one where "Dress" was written for you. [Requested]

Warnings: (+18), smut (it's flagged and can be skipped), fluff, secret relationship, implicit forms of media homophobia, mentions of past relationships. | Words: 2.724

A/N-> I found this request from last year on my drive, I believe it was a writing challenge. It was my first time writing for Taylor, and since it wasn't the focus of my main blog, I ended up forgetting about this one. Now that I have this secondary blog, I haven't found any reason not to share this little one.

General Masterlist |

-&-

Sighing softly, you let go of her hand.

Taylor remained close to you, however.

"It'll be quick." She assured, forcing a smile. "A few hours, we'll go home, okay?"

It was your turn to smile, your gaze roaming the entire figure in front of you, watching the new dress hug all the right places.

"You look beautiful, dear. Did I mention?" You deflect from her previous sentence, and despite the soft redness in her cheeks, her stare is amused.

"Once or twice."

"Then I need to improve on that number." You spoke, bringing your face closer to her ear. "You're breathtaking, Tay." You whispered, enjoying the way her skin shivered.

But the place was beginning to fill up. The other contestants and performers were arriving incrementally, and even though you were hidden from view by the cameras now, it was still too risky to be so close and so non-platonically in public.

Resisting the urge to kiss her cheek, you pulled away and cleared your throat softly. "After you, Miss Swift."

She rolled her eyes at the formality, a smile playing on her lips.

Taylor left first, or rather, entered, the great hall where the awards ceremony would be taking place this year.

You as an independent artist were going to sit a few tables away from her.

The challenge was to keep your eyes off your girlfriend when she looked so stunning.

The evening passed slowly, most probably because all you could do was watch the concerts and speeches and try to cheer yourself up a bit with the expensive food and bad drink.

Your only wish was to be able to keep your hand intertwined with hers and kiss her, even if only on the cheek, as married men could do around the room.

For your happiness, at least you can look at her. Her album won one of the awards that night.

She came on stage, to wave and to express her thanks, and you can't even control your own expression.

Would the photographers in the room be able to tell that your eyes shine brighter than the lights when you look at her?

Would Taylor be able to see you from that distance?

You know she can. Because she meets your gaze from the stage and smiles in a way that you know is just for you.

And when the night is over, she has autographs to sign, and hands to shake, and you are beginning to regret not drinking when one of the boys in a band tries to get her number from her managers.

–//–

It has been like this for some time.

Maybe days, or months? Sometimes you feel that it has been going on for years. Maybe all your life.

When you didn't know her, what was it like to go to LA?

Not to be around her, visiting galleries and parks in a poor disguise, or rushing out of rehearsals to spend time in her apartment under the sheets.

Soon spring is coming, and you need to get back to England for the awards.

Taylor invites you to accompany her to the Grammys when you're back.

At this point, even with all the precautions, the media recognizes that you two are close.

“Best friends” is written on the cover of gossip magazines. Her marketing team won't let her comment.

You are at her house again, before you travel, and she is wearing a sweatshirt that is yours, that she took from the bags you are not done with.

"I'm going to need that in the London cold, Tay." You mutter as you approach to hand her the drink you said you were going to prepare for you two.

She lifts her gaze from the little notebook, confused for a moment until she recognizes that you were talking about the clothes. Then she just smiles "Buy another, this one is mine until you get back."

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you sit down in the armchair across from her.

There is a forgotten movie on the television, and your cell phone is vibrating with the new appointments on your calendar, but you are looking at the woman in front of you. The blonde strands fall down at the sides of her face, her legs crossed on the bed as she scribbles some things down.

"Is it for Reputation?" You ask about the verses she suddenly, in the middle of the movie session, got the idea to write. She covers the paper immediately with her hand.

"Don't peek!" She warns with an expression of false seriousness, pushing the closed notebook further into her lap, her other hand holding her mug of chocolate.

"Never." You assure. "I can't wait to hear, though."

Her cheeks flush, and she smiles. You won't disturb her in her writing, and you think you can just watch her work and you'll be happy.

–//–

Most of the time, you hate journalists.

That's one of the times.

"We heard that you and Taylor Swift have become very close since the 2014 Grammy party." The man with the mustaches began, and from the tone, you knew it couldn't be a good thing. The dozens of cameras and microphones beside him in the stands kept you from turning your back. "We wanted an opinion, don't you think it's funny that Swift always writes of her relationships and people keep dating her?"

That was so mean. Unnecessarily mean.

You licked your lips, frowning, trying to remain calm.

Even the artist answering questions next to you grimaced, although she didn't stop her own interview to comment.

Your manager always said, "Take a deep breath, don't let it get to you. Everything can get around in a joking tone, so if you want to punch someone, the best alternative is to ironize what was said to you."

"Look buddy, have you met her?" you started in the least angry way you could manage. " Tay is by far, the most incredible, inspiring, hard-working, and intense woman I have ever met. I think everyone who meets her has the same impression, and when you have a chance to be, whether it's a footnote or a song, you take a chance. Because anything is worth it to have a little piece of paradise that is being loved by a woman like her."

The man was embarrassed by his question, and unresponsive. His best was to smile. Some of the others began to comment on the sweetness of your answer, but you were dismissing further questions to get into the event.

Before the party was even over, all the way to another continent, Taylor would be teary-eyed with the cut of this little interview circulating on the internet and on her cell phone screen.

You came back to the United States two weeks after you left.

It was like longing torture, to be honest.

Your cell phone had unread notifications because you were in airplane mode the whole trip.

You called Taylor as soon as you picked up your bags.

"Hey, baby sorry for the delay, I forgot my cell phone was off "You spoke as soon as she answered.

"No worries." She said. "Where are you? The car will be right out."

The Grammys were tonight, but you hadn't even taken off your travel clothes.

"Yeah, I think I'll miss my ride." You say checking your watch. "Can I meet you at the party?"

"Of course, darling." She spoke a moment later, almost hesitantly. You didn't catch why. "I love you, see you later."

"I love you too."

You were late. Very late.

Not only did it take forever to get a cab, but you lost your keys somewhere in your suitcase and it took an hour and a half for a locksmith to service you at that time.

When you finally arrived, through the back because the red carpet was closed, the awards ceremony had already begun.

Your gaze searched among the people immediately, and Taylor was in one of the front seats.

Yours was between the ninth and tenth row. You could barely make out her figure from that distance.

The way you missed her was almost painful.

And the speeches and applause continued, and you were exchanging sweet messages with her across the room.

She didn't win anything that night, a younger girl took many victories.

Everything seemed to happen automatically, until the party and she was close enough for you to hold.

You hugged her tight, fuck the photographers and the rest of the world for a few seconds. She hugged you back just as hard, her hands wrapped around your neck.

One or two people noticed the excitement and one of the managers clarified something about you being traveling, a long time apart.

But you didn't follow this.

You just focused on the bright blue eyes in front of you, without saying anything, and you already knew.

You were talking about going out and missing each other, and it was hard to hear each other in that crowded room, with the music so loud.

So Taylor was leaning into your ear, and it just seemed like friends trying to hear each other better.

"Can we go to my apartment after here, please?" She almost begged, her fingers haunting your wrist a moment before she pulled away, with the most innocent expression in the world.

And you were swallowing dryly, shifting your gaze from her lips to her eyes and forcing a not the least bit affected smile, as if she had just made a comment about the food. 

It was your turn to lean in so, seeming to continue the conversation. "I can't wait to get that dress off you, baby."

She sighed, almost inaudible. But you felt it against your neck, her breath uncompensated.

Then you both were pulling away, and smiling gently, keeping up appearances.

–//– ~smut scene~ –//– 

You let your hands wander down, tongues together sliding against each other, the soft moans being the only sound in the room.

Taylor was pulling you by the tie, stumbling around the apartment to the bedroom, but you two kept stopping all the way. Pressed against each other, breathing together.

"I need this off." You warned breathlessly about her tight clothes, the kisses running down her collarbone as she melted against you.

It seemed to become the most complicated thing to remove when you had her throwing her hips towards you, her body so warm.

So with a frustrated grunt, you grabbed the fabric and ripped it off. She let out a low moan, the cold air against her skin being quickly replaced by the sensation of your hands running over her entire body.

"God, Tay, I missed you so much, baby." You declared kissing your way to her breasts. 

"I missed you too." She returns equally breathless, her eyes closing tightly as she feels your lips around her nipples, stimulating her eagerly.

Her legs are giving out. You can tell, and waste no time in grabbing her by the waist, looking for the first surface you can find.

Your hand pushes some objects out of the way, books, and picture frames. You place her on the top of a cabinet, seated, and her legs encircle your waist as your mouth returns to hers.

Taylor gasps against your lips, kissing you in the same overwhelming intensity, her hips splaying forward, trying to ease the sensation between her legs.

You smile at this, slowing the kiss as you slide your hands down her thighs.

Her panties are ruined. She is dripping, you can feel it through the fabric.

Taylor chokes as she feels your thumb against her clit, and moans hoarsely when you begin to press.

"Is that good, baby?" you tease when she can no longer kiss you back, her hands on your shoulders and her eyes ajar staring at you.

She looks so beautiful. Her darkened eyes, her flushed cheeks, and her lips were puffy from kissing hard.

You smile at her, as your fingers push the fabric of her panties aside and you slip into her without warning, which elicits a moan from both of you.

It is always as amazing as the first time. She is hot and slippery, and you sigh. "Fuck, I need to taste you."

She whimpers and barely has time to complain about the lack of contact when you remove your fingers, because her complaint dies in her throat and turns into a suffering moan when you get on your knees in front of her, and sink your face against her nub without warning.

"Jesus!" She exclaims affected as she feels your tongue, eating her with desire, and all she can do is close her eyes tightly, trying not to cum immediately.

You moan against her pussy, her taste is intoxicating. Your own panties stick to the wave of arousal you feel as you eat her out.

You move your tongue with precision and speed, sinking between her folds, stimulating her as deliciously as possible.

She becomes a mess of whimpers and loud moans, and digs her nails into your scalp hair, forcing your face against her before spilling onto your tongue.

"Fuck." She whimpers excitedly, trying to recover from her orgasm as you drink all her liquids and continue to overstimulate her. "Babe, please."

"Give me one more sweetheart." You ask as you pull away for a moment, moving your fingers to open her more. "I know you can."

She nodded breathlessly, already ready for another one anyway. And you weren't going to stop anytime soon.

– ~end of smut~ –

You sleep until late.

When you awaken, there is a small breakfast tray in the corner of the bed, and a blonde woman in the armchair, a notebook in her hands.

"Are you watching me sleep?" You ask in a husky voice, as you open your eyes. She blushes, shifting her gaze back to the pages, making you smile. "Creepy."

She laughs softly, and one of the sheets she has crumpled into a little ball, she throws at you.

You stretch, sitting up properly. 

"I wrote a song about you." She declares in silence many moments later, when you are already passing jam on your toast.

You raise a brow, a playful smile, "Yeah? Are you going to tell me what it is called?"

She bites back a smile, denying with her head. You give a chuckle. "Not even the album?"

Taylor leaves the notebook on the armchair, and crawls back to the bed, keeping her gaze on you until you are close enough.

"What's the fun in saying, if you can guess?" She whispers against your lips, and you feel the jam drip against your fingers, but you don't even mind, moving forward to capture her lips.

She smiles against your mouth, and you forget about the food, wrap your hands around her face, and kiss her until she is flushed and breathless beneath you.

"Not even a hint?" You try later in a brisk tone. She laughs, shaking her head. "You know what, Tay? It doesn't really matter." You murmur as you lie down next to her, tracing her features with your fingers. She raises her eyebrow in curiosity.

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I'm staying long enough." You reply. "I will stay until all the love songs make you think of me."

She blushes, but has a challenging smile, "You are so cocky."

You laugh, nodding. "All of them. From Taylor Swift 2006 to 1989."

She laughs softly. "You want me to think about you with all of my ex-boyfriend' songs?"

You nod trying not to laugh too. "You'll think about how none of them compared to me."

She giggles, moving closer to kiss you several times on the cheek, over and over again, until you are laughing too.

A long moment after, you calm down, and she has her face resting on your chest, your hands on her waist and hair, and you notice the mood has changed.

You don't push, Tay talks when she wants to. And it doesn't take long for her to kiss your skin and then whisper, "You're going to be my best song."

Smiling weakly, you kissed her forehead. "I just hope to be the happy ones."

Taylor sinks her face against your neck, entwining her legs in yours. "You are."

[blackroseguzzi]

Otherworldly : Part 3

Summery: Sex. Love. And pinky power.

Warnings: So much sex, wow, I felt naughty writing this 😈, language, sexy stuff, and Kai (he’ll always be a red flag Id gladly ignore)

I really hope you late night Kai smut lovers enjoy this one!

You loved to stay up late. The mixture of Adderall and energy drinks throughout the day gave you the perfect most exhilarating high at around 130am. Kai had gotten you addicted a few months back, and you had no idea how you ever lived without the little blue pills. They were tantalizing, just as he was.

Tonight, you stayed in the basement while Kai was out with Meadow. It didn’t bother you that he was out fucking another woman, you knew he was doing it to make the world a safer place. Kai was the cult’s charismatic leader who provided his followers with acceptance, and security. For poor little Meadow, she needed a good fucking to think she was important. You felt sad for her in a way. She married a man who was clearly attracted to the opposite sex, and she had a mountain of debt from her time off work due to a bout with skin cancer. You didn’t know her well just that she was a fantastic artist, and she was head over heels for your Kai Anderson- her Devine ruler. Yes, Kai was a leader to her, but you were the one leading him towards her pussy. He protested your request at first, saying that your body was the only temple he wanted to worship. You told him that Meadow wasn’t going to give her life for someone who just patted her on the back when she did a good job, and he had nodded slowly when it clicked. Meadow needed that good old dose of Oxytocin, and if Kai gave that to her she was the perfect person to lie down her life for him- she was a commitment kind of girl. It was depressing really, but also extremely arousing to you that a female could be so pledged after quick sex with your man.You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the thought of Kai making another woman orgasm. You wanted to reach into your sweatpants as you thought about it, but you knew you’d just have to wait for Kai to get home from his mission to please you.

It was around 3am when Kai walked into his quiet home. He slowly took off his jacket and hung it on the rack next to yours. He massaged his neck with his hands and closed his eyes for a moment. He was sore from the workout with Harrison yesterday, and now having Meadow hanging off of it while he fucked her had really done a number on him. He had just wanted to get home to you.

He quietly made his way to the basement, he opened the door and descended leisurely down the steps. The light next to your shared bed was on, and he smirked as he saw your naked body curled in the sheets, your hand still on the ‘Warfare between Science & Religion’ book you had been reading. Kai unbuttoned his black shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then did the same to his pants and boxers. He gently slid beside you under the covers. You felt so warm like the morning sun shining against him. His heart did a little funny jump every time he laid eyes on you after being apart for some time. He hoped you knew that everything he ever did was for the two of you to live in ultimate peace. He wanted to watch you swell with his seed one day- and be the one to help you birth his messiah. He knew you’d be the mother of all mothers. He knew that he’d want at least 4 children with you, maybe 5 if you were up to it. If he could have it his way, he would have all boys- making sure they would all grow to protect their utterly impeccable giver of life.

Kai watched your eyes flutter open, your dark pupils adjusted to the light. When you saw Kai there, wrapped around you naked, you snuck him a sweet smile and he immediately felt his penis build a tent in the sheets.

“I was so lost without you here with me,” You kissed his lips and he moaned in delight at the taste of your honey kiss.

“Well, I found you.” He slithered closer to you and pressed his lips feverishly onto yours.

“I see you need a polite request for my time?” You laughed. When Kai would come home from his short trips with Meadow- he would devour you in some way. It was like he was banking memories of your sex life to remember in times he needed them to block the fact he was with another woman. You never asked him about what they did in bed, but you sure as hell wanted him to know that whatever she had to offer was never going to come within millimeters of what you had to give. Nobody could search your soul the way Kai could, and you knew that he felt the same way.

“There is nothing polite about what I’m going to do with you my sweet Tesoro.” He moved his body so that he was now positioned on top of your naked body. The way that your bodies felt against each other was magnetic. Kai kneed your legs apart and you felt his dick touch your wet pussy.

“You’re always soaked for me,” Kai whispered against your lips. You let him slip himself into you and you bit his lip and dug your fingernails into his back enough that he started pounding faster inside you.

“I want to hear your heart beat, baby.” Your words hit him like a wave, and he slowed his hips. His moves were deliberate, and soft. He could feel your fingertips drawing what felt like perfect love notes over his shoulders and back. Kai lifted himself from you enough that he could stare into your eyes. It was like looking into the gates of heaven mixed with the most beautiful sea of every happy memory he ever had with you. With every thrust into you he felt his head grow lighter and your wet vagina swallowed him up in existential bliss.

“I love you,” Kai kisses your forehead and you moaned in response. Kai watched as your sweet face turned dark. You grabbed a handful of hair on the side of Kai’s head, pulling him down beside you. He watched as you slithered your body on top of him, he opened his mouth to direct you but you pressed a slender finger to his lips. You could feel his smile underneath it and it turned you to mush knowing how much he loved when you didn’t play nice.

“Don’t say a word, just make love to me,” You hissed. You slid your body onto him and rocked your hips against him.

“You feel so fucking goo-.” SMACK. You palm made a noise as it connected with his face. You had just slapped him. Kai brought his hand up to his red cheek. It stung, but he felt like he was on the verge of cumming at the same time. He let out a chuckle and looked to you with both lust a surprise.

“I said not to talk.”

Kai relaxed and watched your body in the warm light. Your curves perfectly shaped and skin like safari desert sand. He watched a bead of sweat slowly drip in between your plump breasts and down your torso. He watched as you grabbed his hands, placing them on your hips. He was biting his lip so hard he thought he tasted a bit of blood. God, you moved so perfectly on him and he knew that his orgasm was going to send his soul outside his body. Hw grabbed your hips until he was sure he made marks.

“I need you to fuck me on the table.” Kai watched you pull yourself from his sweaty warm cock and you took his hand in yours and you both slipped out of the sticky sheets towards the table in the basement.

“I think I’m addicted to you,” Your words swarmed his ears and he grabbed you and placed your naked body onto the long table. He climbed on top of it as well, and spread your legs yet again. He took his fingers and stuffed them into your entrance and you let out the most erotic noises Kai had ever heard. He had watched a lot of porn in his days, but he never heard sounds quite like the ones you could make.

“Please Kai, I need you inside of me,” You pleaded as he stroke your clit with his wet fingers.

“Tell me something you’d never tell anyone else?” Kai laid himself upon you once again and his dark eyes burned into you. You felt your body go weak, and you slowly linked pinkies with Kai.

“Nobody has ever…ever loved me…until I met you.” He held your linked pinky to his chest while he bent down to kiss you once more-his tongue touring the inside of your mouth. God, he would pay rent to have his tongue just live in there. He never got bored of the way you tasted.

“Tell me something you’re afraid of.” He whispered in your ear as your orgasm grew closer and closer with each deep slow plunge inside you.

“Vulnerability,” you chocked out as his last forceful jolt sent your orgasm explode from within you. Your whole body was sent into a tingling galaxy of euphoria. 
Kai slowed as your body relaxed, the high dying down.

Kai got up, running his hands up and down your thighs before pulling you up from your lying position on the table.

“I’m always going to be here to protect you from all your fears little lamb.” Kai grabbed your body, pulling you to the edge of the table. He places himself inside you once again, this time you were extremely sensitive from your orgasm. He delicately moves inside of you, careful not to overstimulate you. He brushes the hair behind your ears and plants kisses all over your face.

He was the only person in the world to ever love you. He was the only one to ever make you feel like you were someone worth loving.

“I love you too,” You finally whispered your response into his ear as he stroked the small of your back with his thumb as he gently moved back and forth.

The words always seemed to make him explode instantly. You could feel his cum disseminate inside of your womb.

You both sat breathless and sweaty before pulling your bodies apart. You slipped off the table and felt tears fill your eyes. Your childhood was so foul, and so had your whole life honestly. Until you had met Kai.

You snuck back to bed, sitting on the edge, waiting for Kai to join in postcoital cuddling.

Kai walked over to you, sitting naked next to you on the bed. He turned you towards him and held out his pinky.

You instantly linked yours with his. Kai sighed happily. He always felt more whole when he was connected to you in some way.

“Ask me anything you want,” Kai proposed. He never stopped eye contact. You licked your lips in thought. You felt like you already knew as much as you needed to, but you decided to ask not what he feared, but what motived him instead.

“What is the purpose of your life?” You narrowed your eyes at Kai, waiting to hear his response. He broke into a wide smile and looked off in the distance as if replaying memories in his head.

He squeezed your pinky with his and then leaned in so his cute freckled nose was almost touching yours. His eyes again- fiery and intensely locked with yours. He had to speak nothing but the truth when you had your pinkies linked. He opened his mouth and gave you his one word response in a low sexy whisper.

“You.”

[eoieopda]

What about a morning-after drabble for Stay? 👈🏻👈🏻 (finger guns)

oh damn, do you have a permit for those?? 👀

also tysm for this request! i loved thinking about what would’ve happened next if i’d kept writing! ✨ this is in jungkook’s pov since “stay” was in reader’s!

anon is referring to this one-shot.

Jungkook had pinched himself four separate times.

There was a red mark, likely to bruise, where the knuckle of his index finger trapped that poor bit of forearm against the side of his thumb. No matter how many times he did it, no matter how angry his skin got, he wasn’t convinced.

He had to be dreaming. He had to be; it was the only logical explanation. His subconscious had projected this scene onto the screen behind his eyes a thousand times: waking up next to you, feeling the warmth emanating from your body so near to his. And as soon as he reached out to pull you closer, it would be over. He’d wake up wishing he hadn’t.

The waking world didn’t work this way, not for him. His friends believed him to be outgoing, but Jungkook was shy. Painfully so. Whoever had driven to your house in the wee hours of the morning - without an invitation, unannounced - wasn’t the Jungkook he knew.

That person - the one who pinned you against your bedroom door, teased you, confessed to you, carried you to bed, put his lips and his tongue and his hands everywhere on your lithe body - was a stranger.

The real Jungkook - the one who pined after you consistently from kindergarten to present - spent the better part of two decades on the sidelines. The real Jungkook had fumbled the moment so many times, he’d ejected himself from the game.

Whoever he’d been the night before - well, shit, Jungkook owed him a beer.

Reinforcing his self-proclaimed status as a coward, he nearly jumped through the ceiling he’d been staring at when your startled yelp hit his ear. Heart in his throat, he cranked his neck to the side. He expected there to be a spider in the bed - you hated those - or perhaps a ghost on the other side of the room - you loved those - but your wide eyes were fixated solely on him.

Your eyebrows shot up on your forehead, though they were heavily obscured by the messy waves falling with a mind of their own. Fuck - did you wake up this beautiful every day?

“You!” Your gasp barely made it out of your mouth with how kiss-bitten your lips still seemed to be.

To get your message across, you punctuated that shocked sound with your hand, reaching out and gently placing it over his face. You picked it up just to move it elsewhere, as if you were studying his features and would be quizzed on them later. Or maybe you were charting a topographic map and simultaneously committing every plane to memory.

He couldn’t help but chuckle, though his words were muffled against your soft touch, “Do I have something on my face?”

Quickly, you retracted your arm. Your hand curled inward and came to rest against your sternum, “Just me, apparently. Sorry, I just - I had to check.”

Your cheeks turned their signature pink. As that blush crept across your cheekbones, you bit your bottom lip the way you always did when you got embarrassed. He tried so hard to fight off a grin, but his failure tugged the corners of his mouth upward.

“What, that I wasn’t replaced by a body double?” He snickered, “A wax figure?”

Your brows furrowed as your rose petal lips poked out. Oh, god, not the pout! He was far too weak a man to withstand it. His heart had just barely survived your little jump scare. But then you hid your face where his bare shoulder met your sheets and you nestled in until your shyness was securely out of view.

If he had been standing, he would’ve dropped to his knees.

Nuzzled so close to his bicep, that soft little whine was all but inaudible: “No, and it’s too early to make fun of me. These are soft hours!”

“Fine, fine,” he sighed with a fond smile as he lifted his hands in defeat. You, of course, couldn’t see the white flag waving from where you were buried. “Then what were you checking?”

“That I’m awake.”

Oh, his stupid, stupid heart. It was sprinting a marathon, and the finish line was nowhere in sight. He’d simply never recover from you and your soft hours.

He glanced down where your face might have been. Your eyes cracked open just in time to lock with his, and they were twinkling. Fairy lights, delicate and warm. He only looked away to draw your attention to his other arm, which he lifted from his side and held in view.

Gently, you reached out. The tip of your index finger was a whisper against his screaming skin, and he would’ve believed it without question if that stopped his bruise from forming. He answered before you could ask: “I spent the last fifteen minutes pinching myself.”

“And? What’s your conclusion?” You asked, resetting your sleepy sights on his face.

Brave, for once, he interlocked his fingers with yours. A perfect fit - if only it hadn’t taken him so goddamn long to test his hypothesis. He sighed thoughtfully and directed his admission more to himself than to you, “Most awake I’ve ever been, I think.”

It was feather-light, your chaste kiss on his shoulder, but it packed a punch nonetheless. Instinctively, his head tilted so that he could rest his cheek against the top of your head. From there, he mumbled:

“Dreaming or not, I’m staying in this bed with you all damn day.”

[deafeninggardenerpanda]

franflam (they are not sisters)

ahahahahaHAHA this is exactly what i was expecting people to send in when i said "controversial ships". no one is ready for one of my signature franflam tangents

under the cut:

you know the last time i did this ship bingo thing someone asked me about franflam too and i just flat out refused to respond because i didnt want to touch the discourse with a ten foot pole. either me putting my opinions here will get me cancelled or it will summon some people hopefully sane about this discourse. i love gambling

to preface, my honest opinions on the matter are that whatever the hell those two got going on in canon is queerbaiting. i say this as someone who bought star allies on a whim at gamestop as their very first kirb game like two years after it released, not even knowing kirby still made games at that time, and thus played the game with zero biases towards anything but yeah those two were written with a weird attachment to each other and it would be stupid to outright deny that. do i think franflam is canon though?: absolutely not and also i hate everyone who claims that with a passion. you could make a claim with a reasonable amount of evidence for either side of the argument and the fact that its even remotely possible both could be true at once, along with kumazaki himself either refusing to elaborate or confirm, or giving even More support to Either side is absolute bullshit and any sort of grey area here is totally his and the writers faults so hey can we all stop arguing about what the "correct" answer is when there literally isnt really one

anyways with that out of the way, heres all of the reasons i hate franflam without mentioning "potential incest" as a concern even once

their dynamic in canon is stereotypical angry black woman is overprotective of stereotypical dainty elegant white woman. hate that. gives me bad vibes. the whole "to show one character is in love with the other, they talk about their love interest nonstop every half second" trope is absolutely HANDS DOWN my absolute least favorite romance trope EVER. it drives me absolutely insane. thats the #1 way to get me to hate both of the characters and their relationship the fastest. holy shit shut up and focus on the story and whats happening around you instead of shoehorning mention of the other person into your words nonstop. hate that. i also hate the "person a is overprotective of their love interest" trope too, esp when it extends into jealously of the other person hanging out with others (sparkling pupupu world does this, for example). feels gross. can feel infantizing. if people see that as romantic good for you but i can not see it ever. its overly possessive. i think having a trio of mages and having two of them being separated and off fucking around on their own all the time as their "happy ending" is bad writing, especially when it comes to zans character being so heavily affected by her isolation from others and how hyness treated her AND YOU JUST GO AND SEPERATE THEM INTO FRAN+FLAM AND ZAN+HYNESS ALL THE TIME FOR SOME REASON HELLO. JUST MAKE ONE MAGE CHARACTER IN THAT CASE IF TWO OF THE TRIO HAVE NO DEVELOPMENT OR PURPOSE OTHER THAN TO FUCK OFF BY THEMSELVES. and then people who ship franflam also often end up shipping hynzan cause of that EWWWWWW GROSSSSSSS. also fran+flam being more close because the jambacult is a broken family that needs to heal Or them being more close because flam is an overprotective older sibling are INFINITELY more interesting to me as concepts than: "fran+flam are closer to each other and not zan because theyre dating and thus inherently dont care about zan as much because platonic relationships are always secondary to romantic". hate that. and the fandom. oh my God as people might be able to tell by all of the arrows on the bingo sheet i have fucking FEELINGS about this this needs a whole new paragraph

okay so. so 😍. i have this thing i call "red flag ships" where the ships are fine as a concept on paper but for some reason the shippers are just absolutely Rancid and that throws me off from liking the ship in its entirely and i get really sussed out by anyone who ships it. franflam is a red flag ship. i think the shippers have gotten so used to being yelled at by people who think theyre siblings that theyve pavlov'd themselves into being insanely hostile and aggressive to anyone who doesn't ship them. at least thats what i can tell from anyone whos Open and remotely loud about shipping them. istg i am not joking in the slightest when i say 95% of my interactions with people who Happen to be big or even decently into shipping franflam have been godawful. the convos dont even have to be around franflam i just think the ship inherently attracts awful people because its only aggressive toxic people who arent scared about shipping it openly. is that generalizing?: Yeah but thats just my personal experience. i have never met someone loud about liking franflam or who makes content for it that wasnt an awful asshole or yikes person in some way

that said, people who really like the ship but are quiet or lowkey about it usually end up being super chill and cool. its just the goddamn Fandom i have an issue with really. so anyone whos normal about it i am so sorry for you lmao

in a somewhat unrelated manner, i used to be somewhat close with someone who had franflam as their ultimate otp and God they fucking sucked. apart from redirecting every convo ever to be about franflam, they were also insanely nasty to anyone who even remotely saw them as siblings because they inherently saw it as an attack against franflam, so theyd always be making comments like "can you believe anyones stupid enough to see them as siblings" and "kinda misogynistic and lesbiophobic that metadede and marxolor are more popular than franflam when franflam is so blatantly canon" and yadayadayada they would say that shit completely unironically even right in front of me when they knew i hc'd them as siblings. i could complain up enough of a storm about that person and all of the insane things they said and did to fill up another 10 paragraphs but in general they were awful and really awful to me and multiple friends and you know what. i fucking hate the ship because of that too. sue me i cant stand seeing it around and i get grossed out by it.

on another note if i see anyone trying to push franflam as canon i will kick your ass. it might seem like im complaining about a problem that doesnt exist since tumblr is very anti-franflam, but on other sites its the opposite and if i had a nickel for every stupid "franflam is definitely canon and the only canon option and here's why" argument ive ever heard and could Easily debunk i could buy a fucking mansion. how to tell franflam shipppers its Okay if their ship isnt canon challenge: impossible (generalizing ofc, this whole rant is generalizing. take with a grain of salt. man i hate franflam)

[artificialqueens]

🖤💛💚 Sun Shines Through the Rain (Camgeria) - Athena2

Summary: Camden and Angeria have their first kiss.

A/N: So excited to write this little fic for the AQ pride challenge! I did the categories First Kiss and Make it Rain, and this might fulfill Parade as well. Also, thank you so so much to Writ for helping me come up with this idea and encouraging me to make Camden and Angeria asexual. Anyway, this is just pure fluff, and I really hope you like it!!

Title from Eternal Flame by the Bangles

Camden’s used to rain, but this is ridiculous. The gray skies and sheets of rain came out of nowhere, like another planet after the sun and clear blue at the Pride parade. Their other friends have scattered; Daya uselessly held her umbrella too high to actually shield anyone from the rain, and Willow almost poked Bosco’s eye out when she tried holding it, so they’d all stuffed themselves into Kerri’s two-door car.

“The sun was out two minutes ago!” Angeria grumbles. “Maybe we should’ve gone in the car with the others.”

“Daya and Bosco are basically twelve feet tall together. We wouldn’t even have room to breathe in there.”

They’re huddled under the red-and-white striped awning of an inconveniently-closed restaurant, waiting for the worst of it to pass. The temperature has dropped in seconds, the sweaty warmth from earlier giving way to a windy chill that makes Camden grateful Angeria convinced her to wear a jean jacket. Though Angeria really wanted her to wear the jacket so she’d have a place to put the asexual flag pin Angeria got her. A pin just like the one Angeria was wearing when they met at a party, pushing Camden into talking to her because she’d never met anyone else who was ace like her. Angeria was so excited to give it to her that morning, gently brushing Camden’s hair away to pin it on the collar of her jacket.

“It’ll pass soon,” Camden says. Her fingers are still intertwined with Angeria’s; she’d grabbed her hand to pull her under the awning when the rain started, and neither of them have thought to let go. They’re so close together, close enough for Camden to see the tiny purple sparkles making up the glitter Angeria had swept over her eyelids that morning.

Being this close makes Camden want to kiss her so badly.

They’d agreed on their first date to take things slow, and Camden was so relieved to have someone who understood. Someone who wouldn’t push her into things, who knew what it was like to feel different or out of place. Angeria just seemed to get her immediately, and Camden got her—trusted her-–just as fast.

Camden smiles at the memory, unconsciously gripping Angeria’s hand a little tighter. Maybe she would be okay with a kiss. But then Camden looks over to see Angeria biting her lip, blinking fast like she’s trying not to cry.

“Angie?” Camden asks, her heart skipping a beat. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I really want to kiss you.” Angeria sniffles. “And I want it to be amazing, but I can’t stop thinking about how this would be my first kiss and how lame it is that I haven’t kissed anyone yet—”

And Camden, though she doesn’t mean to, bursts out laughing.

“Camden?” Angeria asks, and Camden winces when she sees the hurt look on Angeria’s face.

“No, no, I’m so sorry, I’m not laughing at you!” Camden gently strokes over Angeria’s cheek with her thumb. “I promise I’m not. I—I’m laughing because this will be my first kiss too.”

It embarrassed her a lot when she was younger. Most of her friends decided if they didn’t have a first kiss by thirteen their lives were basically over, and would smugly saunter into school in the morning talking about who they’d kissed behind the gym, leaving Camden to sit there wondering how it happened so easily for them, why it wasn’t that way for her. Why she didn’t even want to think about the more-than-kissing things the other kids would whisper about at lunch. It wasn’t until she got older that she realized she was fine as she was, and there was no set timeline on these things.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

They’re both laughing now, a mix of joy and relief and love, knowing that they’re safe with each other.

“And you know what else?” Camden asks.

“What?”

“I really want to kiss you too.”

Camden keeps her right hand cupping Angeria’s cheek as she leans forward, Angeria meeting her halfway. Angeria is still grinning as the kiss starts, grinning because it’s just them, no pressure or expectations. Angeria’s lips are sweet from the Pride-themed cupcakes they had earlier—Bosco ate three and spent the rest of the morning bouncing down the street in a sugar high—and warm despite the new chill. Angeria’s free hand rests on Camden’s back, holding her close and keeping her steady. The pounding rain fades away, and Camden’s entire world is just her and Angeria, sharing the the absolute greatest first kiss Camden could have ever imagined.

“Was it…was it as amazing as you wanted it to be?” Camden asks hesitantly, after they’ve pulled away.

“It was even better,” Angeria says, squeezing her hand. Her smile is the biggest Camden’s ever seen, and it probably matches the one on her own face. “What about you?”

“It was everything.” The middle school kisses behind the gym that hung over her head for years could have never compared to this. All the confusion and crushes from afar that she’s dealt with don’t even seem so bad, because she knows who she is now, and is able to share herself with Angeria, while receiving Angeria’s wondrous self in return.

“Yeah.” Angeria grins even wider. “Look, the rain stopped.” The sun shines on the damp street in a triumphant return, making the world golden again.

“Do you want to come to my apartment?” Camden asks. “We can watch a movie or something and maybe have our second kiss?”

“I’d love that.”

Camden leads her out from under the awning and into the sun, then snorts when she gets an idea. “First I want to watch Daya and Bosco try to get out of Kerri’s car, though.”

Angeria laughs too. “Let’s do it.”

[cloudycleric]

the first chapter of the wee little fic im starting to write below the cut

warning it is a wee bit angsty

The air was cold. Pieces of snow fell all around him.

And though Mike Wheeler had never been to the Upside Down, he knew that this was it.

Immediately he jumped out of his bed, kicking off the sheets—which were now rotting into a black mold— grabbed some old shoes and a coat, and left the house. Everything was in shades of blue and black, though things were left like his family was living in the house, everywhere he looked he felt a sense of cold, lifeless decay. He was going to throw up.

There has to be someone around, he thought. Someone who’s been here before? Or is it just me?

Suddenly, there was a light blue light that flickered in a house across from Mike’s, and all he could feel was a sense of looming dread. He needed to run. It was no longer safe here.

He started running towards the exit of the cul-de-sac that he lived in, having to hastily jump over strange vine-like plants(?) that grew all over the ground, even the houses and various other objects connected to the ground. Though Mike was putting in all of his might to run, he found himself slowing down. Shit, I’m dehydrated, he thought. I should have grabbed my bike.

Suddenly, he heard a call from the end of the street. He saw a dark figure, eerily standing in front of the forest, and though this should have been a red flag for Mike, he did not feel threatened by the presence. He did not consider that maybe this shadowy figure was a predator, and that he was the prey. “MIKE!” it screamed out. “MIKE! YOU’VE GOT TO HELP ME, MIKE!”

It was Will.

The scream of the voice was enough to let his body speed up again. If he had taken just a couple seconds to think about if this was a trap, to look behind him and see if anything from the house with the light on was following him, maybe he would have been able to—

“WILL!” He finally caught up to him. He could see his best friend crystal clear—his hair, slightly wet from what Mike could only assume was sweat, or something worse, the way his chest rose and flattened at a quickened pace, and the amount of blood that was coming out of his mouth and his forehead. The red was everywhere, it was all over his face, it was the only thing that Will could seemingly get out of his mouth, it was starting to pour onto the ground, and Will down, face first onto the road. Mike tried to catch Will, but it was like his muscles were moving in slow motion. “Will! Will! What happened? What’s going on? Will!”

Mike crouched down to lift Will off the ground, to make sure that he was still conscious after taking a pretty hard hit from the ground. Even the back of his shirt was stained with blood, and the bottom of his pants had sticky residue all over it, like Will had gone walking in a disgusting pond. He tried to turn Will over, he knew he was still conscious by now—his arms and his hands were trembling, bruised, slightly covered in bloody streaks from when he tried to wipe the blood off of his forehead—but it was almost as if Will weighed five-hundred pounds. He could not find the strength to get him off the ground, and so Mike began to cry, making his vision foggy.

“WILL!” Mike screamed into his ears, and finally, after thinking enough about turning Will over, wishing for the power to see if his friend was all right, he finally turned him over.

Will was still covered in blood, at this point his entire shirt and most of his pants had been soaked in the dark red liquid. Moving to his face, it was almost completely red, scratched, bruised. It looked as if parts of his forehead had been torn off from the fall. Especially his mouth, and his teeth, they were dyed unnatural shades of reds and browns. And then, quickly, Mike could taste the blood in his mouth, too. Will’s eyes were half closed as he turned over. “Mike,” he mumbled hoarsely. “Mike, I’m so sorry.”

“Will! Will! Sorry for what?” He grabbed Will’s shoulders. “Sorry for what? I’m the one that should be sorry—we need to get you help Will, we need to-”

Will’s eyes gently closed, showing a tear run through the blood that covered his face, it reminded Mike of how Will would use watercolors sometimes and how they would mix in large droplets of water. It reminded Mike of when Will was happy, not when he was dying in front of him in the place he hated most. But that didn’t matter—it was almost as if the whole world had gone silent, as if they weren’t even in the Upside Down anymore. Will slowly stopped breathing, Mike furiously sobbing over his body, holding his hands, which gave a light and shaky squeeze when he first started holding them, but started slowly disappearing from his grasp. “Will, nonono, please, come back, Will, you’ve got to stay here with me-”— The blood that covered him started drying, turning gruesome brownish colors, and the vines started to grow over his body. They're taking him! He thought. They just killed him and now they’re taking Will’s fucking body!

He struggled, pulling at the vines, trying to get them off of Will’s lifeless body. At first they were easy to get rid of, but slowly they became more and more powerful, eventually crawling around Mike’s ankles, dragging him into the abyss as well. The flood of the vines was growing, eventually to the point where Mike couldn’t see the ground anymore. His entire body felt cold, sticky, gorey even. It started to surround his legs, then his stomach, then his chest, until it climbed to the top of Mike’s head and he could no longer see. He could not breathe either, his brain slowly growing tired, his thoughts dissipating. He could only think about Will, about how this was all an elaborate trap of some sort. The Will he had found was in fact the real Will, he could tell by the care and love in his eyes, the way he screamed for Mike. But something had gotten to Will before Mike did. Perhaps the vines had taken over him, but kept him alive, knowing that Mike would become vulnerable at the sight of his death? The vines had shown Mike what he truly wanted, what they knew he truly wanted, and smashed and beaten and tortured it right in front of his very two eyes, knowing that if the vines wouldn’t kill him, Will’s death might just do the trick. If he had not fought back, they would have left him alone, letting him cry himself to sleep, till eventually he got hypothermia.

He could feel the vines getting tighter, he could no longer get an oxygen, he knew he was about to succumb to the—

He took a quick breath springing forward from his bed. Mike’s face was covered in tears, as was his pillow, his body drenched in sweat. It took him a few seconds to realize, but eventually, he was able to see that he was just in his bedroom—his real bedroom, not in the Upside Down—and that he had just had a nightmare. Nothing bad had happened, he was safe in the comfort of his own bed. He should’ve calmed down then, realizing that what he had just seen was a figment of his imagination, but he couldn’t. His breathing was still quickened, his senses heightened.

He tried to remind himself that everything was fine, that Will was alright. But he couldn’t be sure of anything now. Once they returned to Hawkins from California, it looked as if a gigantic evil was slowly engulfing the town, taking it over. They had repaired Hopper’s cabin, where El was now staying, preparing to fight Vecna, the latest of the town’s troubles. No—troubles wasn’t the right word. It was more of a demon.

And after what Will had gone through a couple years back, Mike couldn’t be sure if what he had was a dream or some form of astral projecting, or whatever other hippie shit you might want to say it was. The only thing he could do, the only thing that would register in his mind was Will.

But, as the night was still young, he didn’t have the willpower to get up and see him. He finally felt his eyes become more and more droopy, and he laid his back down on the bed, drifting back into a cold sleep.

IF YOU LIKED IT FEEL FREE TO SUPPORT ME ON AO3!!

[teddyniffler]

Mercy in Defeat

Chapter 12

Part 1

A great sense of unease had settled within Alfred.

He couldn’t place it exactly, sitting on his throne during the Witan, he was listening to a report from Mercia. His daughter Ethelflead had become Lady of Mercia and it was her men who were here now, they had fended off an invasion from the Pagans who had finally recovered enough to raid, however only small numbers visited now. As he sat in his throne, he shifted to get comfortable and then raised his arm up to touch his mouth, on the pretense he was rubbing his face, but in truth nausea had reared up again. He didn’t hear about Icelandic Vikings landing in Northumbria as his focus kept going from trying not to be sick to the pain in his stomach, which was slowly starting to burn. He was twitching his leg in an agitated, uncontrollable way as an uncomfortable feeling, almost tickly, kept itching deep within his chest.

“Thank you for coming to tell me this” Alfred broke him off, as nausea caused his stomach to gag “Pardon me, I must call this meeting to an early close”

He got up fast from the throne and made his way quickly out through the personal corridor, barely out of the throne room he leaned over and vomited.

“Father?” Came a voice behind him.

Hands touched him as Edward took hold of him, he was shaking violently, he again vomited.

Edward looked down and then looked at his father, his stomach was making angry noises, but they had both seen it.

Mixed in with the bile was blood. A lot of blood.

“Mother we should recall Ethelflead back from Mercia, if father is sick she needs to be here” Edward reasoned. Elsewith was at a loss, she didn’t want to worry her daughter needlessly if Alfred was just unwell, nor did she want Ethelflead back here for another reason. The safety of her young grandson, if the church or the wrong people had found out the child was here he would be in danger.

“What about Aethelstan? Your son, she is raising him, she can’t leave him alone there. If she comes back here, she will have to bring him back here with her”

Edward sighed, he didn’t want to talk about his illegitimate baby right now when his father was sick, he had a lot of grief from his mother over this subject before. One simple mistake had led to him being a father before he was ready, or even married. He knew his parents were disappointed in him. He was disappointed in himself.

“I’m going to see father, he shouldn’t be on his own, the physician isn’t family” Edward said, heading to his father’s room, if his mother were to recall his sister, then so be it, the child could be hidden in the villa if needed.

Alfred took a shaking breath, he had used the bathroom after the pain got unbearable, there had been blood there too.

He stumbled back into his bed as the physician held the blankets up, then put them over him, a bedpan was placed by his side for when he needed to be sick. Elsewith came in, followed by Edward.

He was feeling cold, his toes felt numb and while his fingers were like ice, they tingled. Nothing like this had happened before, he looked down at his fingernails, they were going blue. He swallowed and tried to hide his shaking lips, all his fears, his anxieties had all caught up to him at last. There was an unspoken feeling in the air. The Physician looked at Elsewith with words that didn’t need to be spoken. They had been conversation of asking the Bishop to come to the King’s room for Last Rites.

“Elsewith, can you write to Athelstan and ask him to come to Wessex at once, with hast” Alfred asked his wife. He tried to sound casual, but his hands gripped his sheets. His abdomen was on fire.

“Of course Alfred, I will write to Athelstan” She said, but Edward spoke up “I will write to him” He didn’t want to take his mother away from his father if their time was coming to an end “I need to write to my sister also.”

A white horse ran full speed to the path of Wessex, accompanying the rider were men carrying the dark red flag of East Anglia.

“Open the gate” The order rang out when the soldiers seen the flag, King Athelstan had arrived, he was a familiar face at Wessex to those older soldiers who knew him from a young man, and equally as familiar to those younger soldiers who knew him from his visits over the years.

Hvitserk had gotten down from his horse, he didn’t know why he had been summoned here so fast, but he knew somehow it wasn’t good news, the letter had come from Edward, not Alfred. He was taken to Alfred’s room, a room he knew so well from the many nights he and Alfred played chess or talked well into the night back when they had been younger. Inside the room, Alfred laid in bed, his skin looked pale, almost grey and there were dark circles around his eyes, there was a bedpan by his bedside table and there was something inside that looked like blood. Suddenly Hvitserk knew why he had been called here so quicky. He knew at once.

“Hello Alfred” He said sadly, sitting on the side of the bed. He tried for a little smile. “You’ve looked better”

Alfred managed a grimace. “I guess I have” He started coughing, wheezing.

“I will give you some space” Elsewith said, as she left the room, tears were clearly visible on her face.

Hvitserk reached over to Alfred and stroked his hair.

“Is there anything they can do?” He asked, he tried not to let his voice shake.

“They said they will pray” Alfred whispered, confirming what Hvitserk didn’t want to ask. “It feels different this time, I’ve never felt this bad before, the sleepiness is worse, so is the pain and there’s blood in my stomach, they can’t stop it”

Hvitserk felt his tears running down his checks, he didn’t want to cry, he had always reassured Alfred that he would be ok, to cry would confirm to his friend that hope was gone.

“It’s ok to weep Athelstan” He had told Hvitserk that many times. “Let us not threat about things we can’t change, tell me, how are things with your family?”

Hvitserk smiled “My youngest son is still refusing to go to church, until his mother drags him there each week. He threw himself onto the floor last week and started screaming, his sister had to pick him up by his feet and they carried him in, he was still screaming, quite a funny sight for all gathered there. I think there’s too much Norse in him, he hates everything we stand for. He got angry at dinner the other month and shouted he doesn’t blame the Romans for killing Jesus, he would’ve done the same. The priest at the church believes he is possessed by Satan. There’s not a day that goes by when he tells us he hates praying, hates Mass, hates God. He’s barely old enough to ride his horse without aid.”

Alfred wanted to laugh, but it was too painful, he knew all about Hvitserk’s youngest boy, he was so young but he had refused Christianity from the moment he was born. The spirit of his blood, of Ragnar, ran strong in his veins.

“I always thought you were born into the wrong family Athelstan, you were too sensative to be a Viking, maybe he is the same, a restless soul who can’t settle for a calm life. Athelstan, tell him one day, when he is older if you wish. Your son may never be happy in this life. My own son Edward, I tried to keep him on the right path, but he’s already got a son to an unmarried mother, he is too much like my father and grandfather were”

Alfred closed his eyes, he was feeling really dizzy. Black spots covered his vision for a moment.

“Tell him?” Hvitserk said “You mean about who I was?”

“Yes” Alfred confirmed “If he feels lost here, don’t make him suffer what you went through if you really believe he isn’t for this life.”

Alfred kept his eyes closed, the blackness getting worse. He knew if he fell asleep, he wouldn’t be waking up again. He squinted his eyes tightly; he was as scared as he had ever been. He had so far refused his medication for the pain, opting to say goodbye to those closest to him instead.

Hvitserk longed to lay next to Alfred, like how they used to before, shoulder to shoulder laying on the king’s bed as he ran suggestions passed Hvitserk, talking about their families, their pasts. Alfred was far too ill for that now, so he reached over and took one of Alfred’s hands from inside the covers while still stroking his hair, he felt clammy to touch.

“Hvitserk?” Alfred asked

Hvitserk stirred. “I don’t answer to that anymore Alfred, you can’t catch me out anymore remember.”

“No” Alfred said “I wanted to call you that one more time, as that is what you were called when I met you”

He opened his eyes again, they both looked at each other, noticing how much the years had changed them.

“Thank you for saving my life Alfred” Hvitserk said finally, he had waited all these years to say this “You could have killed me, but you saved me. I will never understand how somebody can be so merciful as you, but I try to live by what you taught me every day. I love you, Alfred.”

Alfred smiled back at him. It looked like very hard work, but he managed to talk.

“I remembered you, that day in the tent when you and Ubbe wanted peace but my father and Bishop Heahmund just beat you both rather than strive for peace. They restarted the violence between our people and then I kept seeing you fighting, I seen you so many times in the few years that followed our meeting, and you had changed so much, you were enjoying killing, you were always drenched in blood. I wanted to bring back that poor boy who only wanted peace even after the murder of his father. I was watching as Ivar died for you, he loved you dearly, more than his own life, I knew then you were no savage warriors, you were people who loved and cared for each other, just so very misled. I could see myself and Aethelred in you and Ivar. He had made all the wrong choices, he did bad things, but he was a good person in his soul. I wanted to make peace with you, to save you. I was also lonely; I had lost my family and you had lost yours. I needed you for more than peace, you have been like my brother and I have loved you ever since, we became family for each other.”

Hvitserk nodded, still blinking away his tears.

“I will always love you too.”

Elsewith came back in shortly with the Bishop. Hvitserk rubbed Alfred’s hand and let go, he got up and moved away as the Bishop came over to Alfred. He slipped out of the room as the Bishop preformed the end of life ritual, outside Edward was avoiding his eyes.

“You okay?” Hvitserk asked him. Edward nodded.

“Did my father ever tell you I thought you were my uncle for years until an aid told me we weren’t actually blood related?” He said unexpectedly. “I was so distressed to hear that, I told the aid I’d have him thrown in the dungeon for his slander, my mother was not impressed at my words and my father had to explain you were adopted into our family. I always just assumed you and my father were brothers.”

“No?” Hvitserk said, this was new to him.

“Yes, you’ve meant a lot to my father, growing up you meant a lot to me too. I don’t know if my mother has informed you yet of my son, but I named him after you and after my father’s other father. He can’t be here, the church would have him put to death for the nature of his birth, it’s a similar fate as to what would have happened to my own father if my great-grandfather hadn’t protected him when he was a child, but my son is called Athelstan, because I hope one day he will find his way home. It seems all people named Athelstan return home eventually”

Hvitserk paused. What did that mean? His mind was still on what Alfred had said to him about his own son before he released Edward meant this place, the original Athelstan had returned here once, Hvitserk had lived here. Edward wanted his son to come home.

“It’s a beautiful name” Hvitserk told him.

Edward nodded, his eyes were red and Hvitserk realised he was trying to distract himself.

“My sister isn’t coming home, she loves my father, but father told her to keep the baby safe, she can’t leave him to return”

They were allowed back in the room shortly after, Alfred was being sick again, it was all blood he was bringing up now, it poured thicky from his mouth.

Once the vomiting had calmed again, they had given him his medicine to ease his pain and he slowly started growing drowsy, his eyes flickering close, the odd whimper from him. They all sat together around his bed. The physician and the Bishop stood waiting in the study outside the bedroom area, outside the bells had started ringing out mournfully, a slow ringing that tolled out. Outside, the towns people all paused to mark the moment a great king passed. They would remember King Alfred the Great, for that is what he would be known as, his bloodline would live on for centuries after him. The people of a time still long, long into the future would have statues of him in this town even when this town no longer was recognisable. His chest rose one last time, his lips moving at the sides slightly and then he was still.

The greatest Saxon King of the age had died. His face was peaceful and it just looked like he was asleep to Hvitserk, who looked at his face, tears running down his face as he realised, he had lost the dearest friend he would ever have.

For Alfred, he had just gone to sleep, his family was there, he knew that, it comforted him that he wasn’t alone, everybody was with him. He knew the second death had taken him, but somehow that simple thought wouldn’t register in his mind, it had felt like he had simply dosed off, being too tired after staying up too long playing chess.

It felt like he had overslept and now his grandfather was calling to him, telling him to get up, it was time to start his day.

He opened his eyes and there was King Ecbert standing at the foot of his bed, he had caught Alfred snoozing again, a king must be up as soon as he awakens, there was too much work to be done to snooze.

Alfred glanced to the side of him, why was his loved ones so sad? He thought he knew.

“Do I have to leave them, grandfather?” He asked. He knew the answer already, of course he did. It was time for him to go now, he had to leave them.

“You do, but you shall see them again soon” Ecbert said, he glanced at Hvitserk totally unsurprised, as if he knew why there was a son of Ragnar Lothbrok there.

Alfred sat up in bed, he felt lighter than he had ever felt, he touched his face, his skin felt smooth and his hair under his fingers felt bouncy again, how he used to have it when he was younger, before he had to cut it off to fight in battles. He was young again, there was no pain, no rumbling stomach, no tiredness. He felt amazing.

He looked at the people around him as his grandfather held out his hand.

“Will they be ok?” He asked. He tried to touch Elsewith but he couldn’t reach her.

Ecbert looked thoughtful. “Who knows? But I think they will be ok. Now come, there’s somebody waiting for you, a dear friend of mine and he has waited a long time to see you”

Alfred turned back Ecbert.

“Grandfather, you’re not in hell?” Alfred asked, realising suddenly his grandfather really was there.

Ecbert chuckled “Was I not a man of God, Alfred?”

Alfred didn’t know what to answer to that, he knew his grandfather’s darker nature as well as his light.

Ecbert chuckled again “Enough of me, come. We are not leaving him waiting Alfred, get out of bed”

Alfred got out of bed, he tried to touch Hvitserk who was sobbing inconsolable, but he couldn’t.

“Goodbye” Alfred said to his godson. “You’ll be ok Hvitserk”

He followed his grandfather, everything looked bathed in sunlight, colours that were too bright, it wasn’t cold anymore. They went out of his bedroom but as they walked into the study, the physician and Bishop were gone, he couldn’t hear his loved ones crying anymore. In the room a man waited for him by the fire, his back was to them but Alfred knew who he was even before he turned to look at Alfred. Somebody Alfred had known his entire life even though they had never met save in dreams and visions. His father’s dark hair was tied back, but a few shorter curls stuck up.

A wave of emotion ran through Alfred.

“Hello” Athelstan said to him. His eyes taking in Alfred as if he couldn’t stop looking at his son. His blue eyes ran over his son’s face, he moved closer. “Alfred, it is good to finally meet you, I’m your-“

Alfred threw his arms around him. At long last he could hug his father. Athelstan put his arms around him and held him. Every step of Alfred’s life he had walked by his side, watching helplessly as his son got sick, watching proudly at his moments of happiness, only being able to show himself in moments of desperate need for Alfred, the lost son he had longed for.

Alfred didn’t want to let him go, all his life he wanted a father who loved him unconditionally, no matter what. He slowly let go and looked into his father’s face, he had been waiting all his life for this moment without even knowing it.

“Father” Alfred finished for him, with a smile.

“Your mother and brother are waiting for you” Athelstan said with a kind smile “Your other father too, they are all waiting. Want to go see them?”

Alfred nodded. He wasn’t ready to leave his loved ones, but he knew they would one day come join him, he was just going on ahead of them, it wasn’t goodbye forever.

Holding his father’s hand, with his grandfather’s hand on his back, Alfred moved on to what came next.

[pastelbatfandoms]

The Red Widow- A Marvel AU

A/N: This is an Alternate Timeline set in the Marvel universe. As I am a reality shifter and this is one of My Desired Realities, most of what I write come from memories as Lilianne mixed with scenarios. So if things seem out of chronological order or "characters" seem different that is why. Also Black Widow is still alive in this.

Part 1

My name is Lilianne Liandre'. But you may know me by My vigilante name Shadow, an Agent of Shield, part time Avenger and X-Men (Woman) but before that I was...well let me start at the beginning.

I don't remember much of my childhood in Canada if I even had one...other than I could speak french and english. My parents and I moved around a lot, then there was a year of my life missing when I was around 6 or 7 I'm still not sure.

But I was told an organization took me in, convinced I had powers they could use, but gave up once they figured out I wasn't ready to learn how to control them.

My parents and I moved to Ohio,that was when I met and became close friends with Natasha and Yelena Romanov. Natasha taught me how to fight, where she learned it she never told me.

Then My parents died in a car accident when I was 9 years old, later I learned it was no accident. I was taken by that same organization that called themselves Hydra, for something called The Widow Project.

It was 1995 I was reunited briefly with Natasha and Yelena but they seperated us again, the sisters went with other girls crammed together in one military vehicle while I was taken by someone who they thought could control my shadows, my literal demons. A master of Mind Control, Baron Zemo...

Where I would be known as The Red Widow.

28 years later...

I woke up in a cold sweat again, another nightmare, the same place like every night. That damn Red Room, the memories haunting me of being strapped down while they tore me from the inside out at only 12 years old.

A familiar russian male accent, calming me, the words soothing "It'll be fine Princess. You can handle this, just a bit more." Zemo did nothing to stop them though even as I begged him too, as he placed his hands on either side of my head and I screamed as they took my choice away.

I gripped the sheets, willing the memories away, as I got up. Even so I punched the wall angrily making a large hole into it, damn super strength powers, the serum hadn't made us super soldiers like Bucky or Steve but we had above average strength and agility.

Shaking off the nightmare that was all too real. I looked around the room, confused at first then remembered this wasn't my room it was a guest room and it belonged to Baron Zemo...yes that Zemo, my mentor, my tormentor (or at least accomplice) and former lover for 10 years until I'd escaped with the help of Bucky Barnes then The Winter Soldier.

I was upset with Bucky for breaking Zemo out of prison, but he insisted we needed his help, so I let it go for now. I didn't have much choice in the matter, I mean I could leave but I didn't want to leave Sam and Bucky high and dry against The Flag Smashers (stupid name btw) especially since Bucky was My boyfriend now.

Oh did I forget to mention that? Yeah we've been dating for awhile ever since we reunited after the snap....Although the reunion didn't start off great.

4 years earlier...

A hand made of vibranium wrapped around my throat, slamming me hard against the wall outside the apartments in Budapest. His icy blue eyes stared into my hazel one's, emotionless and cold. "For the last and final time...who are you?" He ground out his tone sending shivers down my spine.

"Bucky...It's Lili, you don't...remember me..." I gasped around his strong hold.

He froze then, his expression changing as he realized who I was finally. We had been fighting for over an hour, it was about time he remembered me. His grip eased as he released his hold on. His breathing uneven and and his eyes wide with shock. "L-Lilianne?" His voice hoarse with disbelief.

I took a breath, smiling in relief. "Didn't think that would work...Hey Buck."

"I can't believe it. I-It's been too long. You're actually here. It's you." Bucky reached out to touch my face but froze at the last second, his expression faltering before he continued. "So much has changed." He muttered. It was impossible for him to hide his surprise. The snap had only been a year but to them it felt like 5 and it showed the year had left their mark on both of us.

I looked down for a moment. "I know...Maybe we should go somewhere else to talk."

Bucky nodded in agreement, "Yes that would be...smart." His tone as serious as his expression. It was clear a lot was on his mind, I could feel the tension in the air as we walked side by side.

"Let's go to my place. It's more secure." Okay so it wasn't actually my place it was Natasha's she was letting me use it until she got back...whenever that might be....I grabbed the keys opening the tall ornate but worn doors.

The place was small but cute despite being an assassin Natasha had good taste, but then so did I if I say so myself. Even if mine was more on the alternative side and hers was more kitschy.

we walked through the living room and straight through to the kitchen as I opened the retro fridge trying to appear calmer than I felt as I rummaged through it before finding some drinks. "Beer?" I offered him, holding up the glass bottles.

I could feel his eyes boring a hole into me, noticing how different yet the same I was. He nodded, "Sure." His response seemed nervous as he took the bottle I offered him and sat at the round table in the center of the kitchen, the chairs mismatched in bright orange and teal but still cute.

I stood then staring at him, trying to appear calm, detached like I had been bred for but inside I was a jumble of nerves same as him. "So how'd you find me? Where did you think I was this whole time?"

Bucky opened the bottle then taking a drink. After a moment he took a breath, setting the bottle down. "I don't know...I looked all over for you after the snap...when I couldn't find you I panicked...I started thinking the worst. I thought something had happened again." His eyes dropped to the table not looking at me.

I took a sip of my beer, surprised. "Really? last I heard you didn't care what happened to me, I was just a burden. Something you to deal with." But to me he had been my everything. I thought.

A look of confusion spread over his face for a moment before the memories started to resurface, of how he treated her, basically ignoring her while in The Avengers and then going back into cryo sleep. "I was scared after what had happened before...after what I was made to do. I thought it better to keep my distance then risk hurting you that way." His voice was quiet, the regret in his eyes clear.

I just looked at him then still upset. "The Winter Soldier's words then...not yours?"

Bucky gave a small nod, "Yeah, I...the time I spent as The Winter Soldier has always been hazy. I was on edge, paranoid most the time, hoping I wouldn't lose my mind again. I was different then, nothing like I am now. So yes those words were his."

I gave a small nod of my own, not looking at him, "I thought so. Are you better now?" I asked. Well as better as we could be, I knew working for Hydra what they did to the human psyche. Saw what they did to him, what Zemo did to both of us...I took a breath, willing the memories away.

Bucky sat in silence for a few minuetes, reflecting on my question as he tried to find the right words, "Yes, I mean I'm a lot less on edge then before. After everything that I happened, I've had time to make amends to change, I'm still working on it."

I gave a sad smile with a nod, "Me too. I found a balance. I don't work with just shadow anymore." A glow seemed to light up around me then faded as I said that.

Bucky raised an eyebrow in curiosity at that, leaning forward. "You learned more? You use light as well now?" Bucky hadn't thought someone could control both light and shadow.

"Yes. Well Lucifer's lighter side. Demon's don't just work in the darkness. I've been laying low but I do still help The Avengers and XMen occasionally. I'm sorry I wasn't able to do more against Thanos, it's just The XMen needed me and I was helping Yelena."

Bucky nodded in understanding, he knew we had also been avoiding each other at the time. Which seemed petty in the scheme of things. The new information about the demons though surprised him, he knew I was into magic, that I had that potential that's why Hydra had wanted me after all but... "So you actively work with the demons now like as equals? So you can control light and shadow?" His expression was stil stoic but I could see a flicker of something else in his eyes.

I smirked, "Ah yes I was still developing that when you met me...still just being an agent. I can still fight as you saw but yeah things are different now."

Bucky looked impressed, his voice laced with admiration and interest. "I had no idea you were so powerful...controlling both light and shadow. You may be able to give Wanda a run for her money."

I smirked at that. Knowing she had been the one to teach me how to practice real magic, as well Magneto but I decided not to mention that...only replying with, "I had to do something. I only ever worked with them for small things before and what Zemo tried to get out of me...but after I left Hydra and Shield, I made some more deals, they helped protect me." Illyana Rasputin had been the one to introduce me to most of them.

Bucky nodded, still trying to process what I told him. "Makes sense. You said you were laying low after the snap, what have you been doing all this time?"

I sat down across from Bucky then as I answered, "Odd jobs mostly. I've also been working with Natasha and Clint, they needed help with some young supers. I met Kate Bishop, I like her, we became fast friends. But otherwise I've been trying to lay low, May and Coulson know where I am but thankfully they haven't been pressuring me to come back to Shield."

Bucky listened intently at me, then said "Sounds like things have worked out for you. Have you ever thought about coming back to Shield? Maybe we could work together again?"

I looked at him, frowning. "Aren't you worried? what if Hydra tried to infiltrate again?"

Bucky paused at that, as he seemed to mull it over, leaning back his eyes wandered from mine as he gave a small shrug. "Honestly? I haven't had the chance to worry much about it. I've been more focused on...other things."

I look curiously at him now, "Such as?"

The corners of his mouth turned upward slightly as he met my eyes. The look on his face hinted at what or rather who he was referring to. He seemed unsure how to say it but ultimately gave in and spoke, "Such as...you. I've spent the last year thinking about you. I've missed you."

But not enough to come find me....I hesitated for a moment before replying, "I missed you too...despite everything that happened..."

"Despite everything, despite what I said and did. I regret letting you go and I...I'm sorry." It was the closest he'd ever come to apologizing and I knew it took alot for him to say that.

"It's alright...I know you were just protecting me by getting me out of Hydra. I get that you coming after me also wasn't personal, that they made you." I replied a bit softer than before, referring to when he was still The Winter Soldier.

Bucky nodded glad I understood him for who he really was not who they had made him. "It wasn't personal, you know I would never want to hurt you." He said softly looking into my eyes.

"I know." I looked up at him then not being able to contain the emotions in my eyes. Despite the fear of getting hurt again, of losing each other, the feelings I held for him never went away no matter how much I had tried to bury them.

Bucky couldn't help notice the emotions in my eyes. Seeing how much I cared, I always had. "I...I thought I'd lost you. I've carried that guilt with me for a long time. i felt powerless, I couldn't do anything to protect you, I couldn't stop them from...." A sigh left his lips as he shut his eyes to try and block the memories, of Zemo making him hunt me down, to either bring me back or kill me...

I wanted nothing more than to hug him then but I held back speaking softly, "Hey we were both being controlled. You had no choice...I get it...I honestly never thought I'd see you again."

Bucky shifted his eyes from mine, I noticed his hand squeeze around the beer bottle trying to keep his emotions in control. "I'm glad you get it....and I know...I didn't think I'd ever see you again either."

I notice his change in demeanor and knowing he was not good with emotions decided to change the subject. "Oh I heard your working with Sam Wilson now? Falcon? Here I thought you didn't get along."

Bucky laughed slightly a bit embarrassed, taking a swig of his beer before replying,"Sam and I have our disagreements sure...but we work well together. Though I will admit when I first heard he was going to be the new Captain America, I was not impressed."

"Of course not. Wish it was you?" I give him a knowing look, Bucky had been Steve's best friend for well centuries of course he'd feel like he deserved it more...or maybe he didn't and that was the issue.

Bucky looked at me his eyes widening in surprise as he chuckled and shook his head. "You know me too well. Though I think it was for the best. I think Steve would want Sam to be Captain America...It's a different lifestyle, one I'm not entirely ready for. I feel like Steve was made for it literally. whereas I fit better with the fighting and action. I'm not sure if I'm ready for a role like that. At least not now anyway."

I nod in understanding, "I get it. Despite my new...gifts. I'm not sure I want to be front and center or a leader again."

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at the irony that the both of us held so much power yet were content staying in the shadows. "I guess that makes two of us. We're more suited to the fight, not the politics. I don't know about you but I prefer the chaos to those meetings."

"Definitely. I knew there was a reason we got along." i joked. Not like we weren't similar in other ways...

Bucky seemed to relax more then I noticed. he took a long sip of his beer, I noticed his eyes roam over me. And took a sip of my own beer,smirking.

"You know me so well...maybe too well." A playful smirk crossed his lips but he was only half joking.

"Same goes for you." I agreed looking at him, "But that's not a bad thing right?"

"I guess not..." The playfulness in his tone disappeared then, his growing more serious. "I guess we have always been close...you always knew what I was thinking, didn't you?" Bucky shifted in his chair, turning slightly to avoid looking at me. I could tell he was reliving something he didn't want to.

I narrowed my eyes in concern, "Yeah like right now...Bucky what's wrong?"

Bucky took a deep breath before answering, "It's just that...I'm remembering things. The memories have been resurfacing and their bringing back other feelings I was suppressing. I know it's stupid but I don't like thinking about the time I was with Hydra...or when we fought...I never want to be that person again."

I nod in understanding. Knowing just what memories he was thinking of, not just being brainwashed and coming after me but the same thing happening to me as well. "Yeah...me either, trust me those demons are a lot harder to deal with then the real ones."

"that's the thing..." Bucky shifted in his chair, leaning on the table. his voice becoming more gentle, "You're a survivor...I should have known you'd be able to handle yourself as everything that happened."

I sighed,looking down. "I shouldn't have to deal though...WE shouldn't have too." Then I asked him "Do you still get nightmares?"

A hint of sadness crossed Bucky's face then as he nodded, "Yeah...I still get them...you too?"

"Yeah. Almost every night. My guardian demons try and protect me but they can only do so much." Not to compare but Bucky had been an adult when all that happened. Lilianne had been a child, for along time Hydra was all she knew...

Bucky looked pained at my answer, "I'm sorry...I'd take them from you if I could. I know how hard they are to deal with..."

"I know you would. I am grateful you got me out when you did, yeah I was almost an adult and Hydra ended up infiltrating Shield anyway...but at least you tried." I smile at him, wanting to take his hand but not sure if it was time yet.

Bucky looked at me, knowing what I wanted he held out his hand towards me. I smiled at him, squeezing his hand.

"I'm glad our reunion didn't end up in a fight well mostly." I grinned.

Bucky laughed softly, "I guess I've mellowed out with age. You did try and kick my ass."

I scoffed, "You started it. That metal arm of yours hasn't lost it's grip that's for sure."

Bucky smiled back, "That's true. And you haven't lost your touch either. those kicks are still powerful."

"Good to know training teenagers hasn't made me weak." I joked.

Bucky laughed, his eyes lighting up in amusement, "I don't know anyone else that can fight that good, especially with how small you are." He joked.

"I mean I was trained by The Black Widow and then was made leader of The Widows which was ironic." I mused.

Bucky chuckled at that, "I always thought it was strange and ironic for a teenage girl to lead The Widows. I guess being around them helped your skills..."

"Oh yeah I mean I had no choice really..." I trail off at the memories then try and lighten the mood again. "But I'm glad I haven't gotten rusty."

Bucky seems to know what memories I'm referring too, he had been Natasha's instructor in The Red Room after all. But he didn't bring it up, instead he smiled and said "I think you could still kick my ass in a fight...again."

"Wanna bet?" I smirk giving him a look.

A smile spread across his face then, I had his attention now and he was intrigued. He'd never pass up a chance to spar with me. Bucky looks at me a small smirk and hint of confidence appearing on his face. "You think you could still take me?"

"I know I could." I grinned back.

"Is that so? You think you have the upper hand?"

Suddenly I disappear into shadows only to reappear behind him. "I know so." I whisper into his ear.

I noticed Bucky's breath catch in his throat, the smug smile turning into an amused chuckle, "Alright then, I won't argue with that. Maybe you do have an advantage." Bucky gets up from the chair now turning to face me, grinning in amusement.

"Alright I'll make it easy on you. No powers. just strength and skill." I smirk backing away and geasutering for him to come towards me, it had been awhile since I'd had real competition. I was also glad I had worn my black tactical outfit instead of street clothes.

"Deal." Bucky nodded, stepping up. "Cmon on then." I wink at him.

Bucky smiled back at me before raising his fists, waiting for me to make the first move, to see what my strategy would be no doubt. His eyes glued to mine. More than ready.

I smirk, feinting a left kick then use the wall to push off into the air and kick him with my right leg.

The sudden kick catches him by surprise, my move faster than expected as I kick the side of him sending him back a few feet. Bucky kept his composure though raising his guard against me. He took a defensive stance not wanting to leave himself open again. This fight wouldn't be so simple.

I notice his stance, getting him off his feet wouldn't be so easy. Good thing I was quick. I used my momentum to leap over Bucky then, "Surprise." Putting a foot in front of his to catch him off guard. "No one said we had to fight fair."

To be continued...

A/N: Thought this was getting too long, more sparring with Bucky will continue in part 2 and a bit of Angst...cause we know how he is with feelings.

Part 2

[dumbledore-and-grindelwald]

Is grindeldore toxic?

I assume that since I'm being asked it's up for debate, which is something I never considered. I’m not patronizing anyone who thinks they’re healthy btw. I’m just saying that  grindeldore being a toxic ship is something I’ve always taken for granted.

Note: I started writing and it got out of hand, so I’m sorry if you get bored and end up not reading the entire post.

I've been following these two since back in the day, when DH was published and I always tried to learn as much as I could about them. With Rowling mentioning that Dumbledore asmade a fool by love, that he lost his moral compass, because Gellert was morally bankrupt and, insted of seeing it, Albus was projecting virtues that he wished Gellert had, and when she said that Gellert was a narcissist and a user and in her mind he would have used Albus' infatuation, So these comments have definitely affected the way I see the relationship.

Down the line, Rowling made it much more reciprocal than she had originally imagined it. She had said in the past that Gellert wouldn’t have reciprocated Albus’ love that way, which could be interpreted in several ways but I always took it to mean that she saw Grindelwald’s feelings as a toxic kind of love that would not allow him to put his loved one over his ego and his interests.

Skipping to the actual story, there is the fact that Gellert used the cruciatus curse on Aberforth (conformed in the books, unconfirmed in FB. but there's still room to revel it later). If one has a disagreement with their loved one’s family and things get heated, there are different ways to handle the situation. Obviously Gellert did not care in the slightest for Aberforth, but he still knew that he was important to Albus and he didn’t contain himself. His instincts were to go for actual torture when we all know that he was not in actual danger and he could have wiped the floor with Aberforth without harming him. And this cost him, because we know that the fight started with Albus and Aberforth against each other, but then the situation turned when Albus was put in the position of trying to stop Gellert.

Then, in the King’s Cross chapter, Albus’ limbo-version mentions two very specific things: Gellert left with his plans of ruling, of muggle-torture and of the hallows and he was left to bury his sister and to live with his grief. We don’t know what was said that day. But even if Albus had pushed him away, Grindelwald could have tried to support him and to help him. These things are supposed to be parts of a healthy relationship. He didn’t. We can come up with excuses. He had been expelled from the most tolerant school of magic for his experiments. It’s not like he had the cleanest slate. But even if Aberforth had made some noise, his word voice not have been heard. Not when he was an underage boy whom people thought him half-wild and whose grief over losing his mother and his sister so fast would have been enough to dismiss his claims as the result of hit trauma. Gellert would have been in the clear. Other than not wanting to delay his plans, he didn’t have to our knowledge enough of a reason to not support his partner, and Albus seems to be bitter about it after almost a century.

As for Albus’ mention of their politics, he acknowledges with regret that he encouraged and helped Gellert when it comes to the Hallows. What is interesting that he mentions seizing power as a plan, but muggle torture as a scheme. Now, there are couples who can separate their politics. Even if Grindelwald and Dumbledore’s methods weren’t irreconcilable, that doesn’t make the relationship itself toxic. That’s not all that happened with them though. Gellert consciously mislead Albus. Albus was the one who coined the phrase ‘For The Greater Good’ to describe the main point that their arguments were supposed to focus on. He was going on about doing only what was necessary. He didn’t want to hurt people for the sake of it. Gellert never meant to settle for that. Muggle enslavement and punishment were not an afterthought for him. This is more than ideology. Albus had made a life-changing decision. What would have happened if they had gone through with it, reached the point of really taking action and Gellert’s little surprise was finally in the open? Albus would have been horrified, he would have felt used and disrespected. I would say that consciously depriving one’s partner from choosing freely by manipulating their perception of the context in which they’re making the choice IS toxic. Gellert possibly planning to use arguments along the lines of ‘but you love me’, ‘we’ve come so far, you can’t back down now’ etc. would be toxic. Also, the blood troth is not just an innocent promise of love. It did entail love and I don’t have a doubt that it had sentimental value for Gellert, but he knew EXACTLY what would make Albus turn on him in the future and he hoped that he could manage the situation, but he also wanted to be in the clear. I don’t think that Albus would ever try to kill him. But they thought that the troth prevented them from consciously going against each other in any way. If Grindelwald tried to kill someone other than Albus, Albus wouldn’t even know that defending wihout trying to hurt him was possible. He would have found himself unable to even react based on his consciance without meaning harm.

In FB Gellert is literally planning to have Albus killed. From the extended edition of CoG we know that he has seen a long time ago that an obscurial would kill the man he fears the most. Albus knows about his vision so there are chances that they were still together when it happened and Albus only realised that it was HE who Gellert feared later. Gellert fearing the person he loved was unhealthy for their relationship in itself, but it also lead him to many of his aforementioned actions. I don’t think that he would have been able to kill Albus himself, but the fact that he sent Credence once and he wanted to do so again shows that he feared enough to let it happen in the only way he could. He thought that being removed from the situation would make it hurt less. It so happened that at some point he realised that the person he had approached was Albus’ relative and knowing about the familial trauma that Albus has experienced, he still chose to vilify him to his own kin, whom he later tried to kill.

There are other questionable things. He was totally fine with the place Albus chose, asking if it was one of his regular haunts, all smiles and charm, but the moment Albus mentioned freeing each other from the bond he becomes malicious. When the bond was broken, I think that his ‘Who will love you now Dumbledore? You’re all alone’ was primarily how he felt about himself. But when he hurts and even if it’s the result of his own actions,  his instinct is to hurt back. And let’s not forget the jealousy. Grindel!Graves was interested in Newt because he was curious about what made Dumbledore fond of him and when they are at Per Lashez he asks mockingly if Albus will mourn Newt before attacking.

So yes, I think they’re toxic. In fandom calling something toxic usually comes with negative connotations. It implies that there’s something insincere to it or that its fans shouldn’t like it. That’s rubbish to me. Love is a feeling and there are different kinds. I don’t doubt in the slightest the depth of Gellert’s emotions or that Albus did not stop loving him for a second of his life. But people’s personalities are complicated. Albus loved his family but was not cut out to be a carer. Similarly, I think that Gellert is not cut out to be in control of his emotions and of his desires. There is his toxicity against other people and especially against muggles which is rooted in hatred or in believing that they are inconsequential... or sometimes they are just in his way. On the contrary, his behaviour towards Albus stems from love that is consuming. It’s a need. But anger was always Gellert’s undoing. When he put love and hatred on the scale, he leaned towards hatred but he wanted to have both. So in his attempt to reconcile the two he ‘poisoned’ Albus. The irony is that the toxicity in their relationship was proportional to Grindelwald’s love, because he was not emotionally healthy. The more some people love, the more altruistic are. Instead, I think that Gellert would have hurt Albus less if he loved him less. And his tragedy was that by the time he came to certain realisations and chose love it was too late for them to have a future.

People are complicated. Charaters who are so grand, smart and intense will be even more so, especially when they collide. Maybe the reason that I never considered that fans might not think of them as toxic is that the word does not bother me and I never had or will have any qualms about shipping the hell out of them.

[thisisarcanereverie]

Avenging (DARK! Moon Knight x Reader) The Knight and Pawn Series

Hi! Thank you guys for all the love and support you've shown for this series and as well as for my other writing, you guys are the best!

Please feel free to drop in my ask box for a request or just to say hi I really like interacting with you guys.

WARNINGS: Dark themes, I have no idea how to describe indoor decor.

You woke up to the smell of him on your skin. Your blood curdled and shame filled you. How could you be so weak against him? How could you have encouraged it?

The ghost of his lips on yours, as well as his fingers, lingered. You could still practically taste him on your tongue. The minty freshness mixed with the faint taste of dark chocolate and coffee created something so intoxicating yet nauseating at the same time. His calloused hands, worn from battle, left a sensation you didn’t quite understand. 

You knew what happened last night was not out of love, at least not on your side, you were lonely, vulnerable and isolated. Any touch of intimacy was like breathing in fresh air or letting the sunlight hit your face after so much rain. You knew you didn’t love him, that this sick and twisted notion of love he had in his head was absurd and dangerous. 

You brought your knees to your chest as you thought angrily about if all of this had come out five years ago things would have been different. You would’ve jumped into his arms and lived happily, you would probably have been oblivious to the obvious red flags because he would’ve been your Marc. 

But he wasn’t anymore. 

You pitied that version of you who lived oblivious to what monster warmed her bed at night. But you also envied her, wished to be her. 

—

You were reading yet again when Marc came through the door, you expected him to have a tray of food in his hands but you were surprised when he just leaned against the door with his arms crossed. No food, and the door wide open. 

Confusion and unease filled you, what was he doing?

“So,” Marc started, “the final renovations got done this morning so it’s time to properly show you your new home starlight.” You sat there not really processing the information. 

“What,” Marc asked, “did you think I was just going to keep you in a locked room with no sunlight for the rest of your life?”

“I didn’t really know what to expect honestly,” you replied, hesitantly closing the book in your lap before placing it on the crumpled sheets. You slowly took a step forward to the door and when Marc reached out his tanned hand for you to take it. You wanted to deny it, tell him to fuck off and not touch you. But you worried that if you did, any hopes of getting outside of these same four walls would disappear. You tried not to recoil as your fingers intertwined with his, you reminded yourself with each step not to run to the nearest door. He’ll be on guard, he’ll be ready for your half baked attempt at escape. You had to gain his trust, and not running immediately would help. Some part of you wondered if you were complacent if he would let you go out of boredom, but you see the look in his eyes and know that will never be the case. In fact it might encourage him. 

He took you through a few hallways, all trimmed with white and silver. It was all very…classy and expensive. Nothing about this screamed Marc, but of course when Marc showed up in that bar with a white button up and black slacks some part of you was surprised by his appearance. He also barely managed to scrape by with what he sold during missions, always just selling the bare minimum before giving it to museums and places like that. So what changed? Where did all this money come from?

Marc opened a door at the end of the hallway, it did not make a sound as he opened it and revealed a study. The walls were lined with books, most were egyptian, the wooden trims looked to be made of mahogany and decorative plants were placed artistically here and there giving the room a slight adventurer vibe. You barely noticed the door behind you closing, when you did you saw it was a hidden door. You were trapped behind a fake door the entire time in his study. 

“This is the office,” Marc said as his fingers never left yours, “Truth be told I don’t use it often but I don’t want you poking around in here if you can help it,” He said as he dragged you out of the space. 

It was very modern, you noticed, the floor plan was anyway, open space, lots of windows letting in a lot of natural light. Completely different from the cramped room you had been in for months. The couch was a cool gray sectional, it looked as though it’s never been used, in fact, a lot of it seemed to be brand new. The floors were real wood and polished to the point you could see your reflection in it, the walls were a nice, clean white with spots of color here and there with wall decorations. There was a fluffy rug where the sectional was along with a decorative blanket draped over the side. The TV was massive, and it seemed to be one of those state of the art smart tv’s. Everything looked just like it came straight from one of those home decorator magazines, showing people pretty places that they would never live. You noticed one of those windows looked out into a balcony that overlooked the water. As you breathed in the outside world for the first time in forever, your suspicions were confirmed. 

You were in London.

You were literally an entire ocean away from anyone who you could count on to help. 

You were trapped. 

“As you can tell this is the living area, and over here is the kitchen,” Marc said as he pulled you to the open archway to the kitchen. The floor was marble tile and the counters were made of this white and gray marble with gold streaks in it. Even this room, which you know he used, looks like nothing has been touched. 

He then proceeded to show you the other rooms, the gym, an indoor pool, a walk-in closet which he made sure to tell you that was yours, a few guest rooms, and all the rooms seemed to follow a certain white, gray, and gold theme with Egyptian hints and exotic touches here and there.

Finally he dragged you to the last door, it was large, taking up a good amount of space on the wall, double doors. 

“Finally this is our bedroom with an ensuite bathroom for us.” It was gorgeous, the california king bed with gray sheets, a regular rug with intricate patterns, the frame of the bed was black, over all the room was spacious with enough room for a pull out tv, ottoman by the end of the bed, a large dresser with a closet, two chairs by a bookshelf. When you reached the bathroom the shower could clearly hold two people as well as the massive tub. Everything was big, clean and expensive.

That’s what you always came back to. 

Expense. 

“Marc,” you said to the man who, except when he showed you where the rooms were, said nothing, “How are you able to afford all of this?”

“Turns out Steven is smarter than he looks,” He said rubbing the back of your hand, “he may be pretty timid but god is he a vicious business man.” he sighed as he brought your hand to his lips, “I know it’s a lot to take in right now, but I want you to know that we did this all for you. You deserve nice things, and I didn’t handle things correctly-”

“You didn’t.” You said, Marc gave you a look, he knows you’re right (as usual) and that he deserves that. 

“As I was saying,” Marc continued, “we did this all for you, but there are a few rules.” 

You tried to hide the tightness in your chest and the panicked rhythm of your pulse. 

“One,” Marc said holding up one finger, “don’t try to escape. Pretty basic shit, but still.” 

“Where would I even go?” You said, “You took me an entire ocean away from anyone I can turn to.” 

“You could still run,” He said, his eyes challenging yours, “and there will be no tolerance for that.” 

“Two,” He said, “I still want to bring you breakfast every morning and you have to eat all of it.” he holds up three fingers, “Three, you have to wear the clothes in the walk-in closet, it’s all designer or some shit, it’s supposed to be high quality.”  Four fingers, “Four, we still share the same bed and the same rules apply. I would never force you into sex,” he said, “When that day comes, when sleeping beside each other isn’t enough for you and you want more, I’ll be there. However, until that day comes I would like to continue sleeping like we have been. Close.” 

“And Five?” You asked. 

“Five,” He said with a blush on his cheek, “you have to kiss me, at least once a day. I’m not asking for more than that, just one kiss on the lips a day or more.” 

Out of all those rules, that one was the one that was going to be hard to obey. Kissing him everyday and moving on as though he didn’t kill Alec right in front of you was going to be unbearable. But you needed time, and opportunity, and who knows. Maybe one day if you still have your wits about you and you’ve gained enough trust. Maybe he’ll bring you outside, maybe even take you on trips where you can escape then. 

Just hold on. 

“So do you understand?” Marc asked, his eyes boring into yours as-though trying to read your mind. You gave him a small, deceptively sweet smile as you answered. 

“I understand.” 

“And you have to start calling me your pretty boy again,” Marc said in a lower tone, “I just want things to be how they used to be.” 

“I understand pretty boy” the words tasted like ash in your mouth but still you smiled at him. 

One day you’ll be away from this fucker. 

And then you’ll make him pay. 

For Alec.

TAGLIST:

@simonsbluee

@yuki235171

@dopeqff

@themapoftinyperfectthingsgs

[littlefreya]

August’s Box of Mystery

Summary: He left you all alone in his great castle by the sea and requested that you shan't touch yourself... can you keep your loyalty?

Prompted by @gotnofucks: “How do you feel August would react to knowing his girl uses sex toys when he is away? Would he feel jealous? Angry? Turned on?More importantly, what does he do? 👀”

Pairing: August Walker x Female Reader (No description of ethnicity or body type)

Words: 3k

Warning: 18+, smut + romance and fluff in the end. Female masturbation with a sex toy, voyeurism, sex-tape, cockwarming, mildly rough unprotected sex, breeding, breeding as punishment if to be exact, slight denial, MaleDom, creampie, a lot of it. Read the warnings properly, please. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts it and claiming it as your own.

A/N: I am anxious about this one and hope you’ll enjoy, i’ve been rather influenced by Angela Carter writings. Many thanks to @the-soot-sprite @wondersofdreaming for feedback and @agniavateira for her review. Added notes and credits in the end!

Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

August’s Box of Mystery 

Outside the bedroom window, the waves roared in a tempest's rage. Torrent after torrent, the sea unleashed brutal tentacles onto the salty iron rocks in a keen, vindictive urge to dismantle them to nought. 

It was your own unruly longing that the ocean sensed: forlorn and listless, lying on your bed, the blue mist cloaking your heart. 

August's sea-fort was a gilded cage. He had given you everything: diamonds brighter than the moon, sheets made of the softest golden silk, and even a ring to bind you to his unbreakable siege. 

His only demand was that you will always wait for him, not only by flesh but soul as well. Despite his dark ambitions, trust and loyalty were qualities August valued beyond anything else.   

But soon, you grew tired of watching the reflection of the tides refract upon the naked ceiling. A woman with fire for blood, you were forever tormented by your sultry nature and daydreams of that would make the devil blush.

Frustration gnawed at your bawls until—enough! You shot up from your bed—a storm of silky linen whirling around you like Venus emerging from spume on shore; and just as the goddess of love and beauty, you too yearned to be penetrated. Nibbling your nails, you glanced at the open door, your mind seeing beyond thick walls into his office where he kept a chest filled with illicit delights. 

Every now and then—when August's muse struck—he would bring one of his toys to the bedroom, but you weren’t allowed to play on your own. 

Body. 

Soul. 

‘Certainly, August won’t be able to tell if I would be careful?’ You hoped and followed the oceanic breeze hymning from the corridors.

Sand stuck to your bare feet, the wooden planks gently wept beneath your stride. Tipping on your toes, you snuck into his cavernous study, the key stolen from his nightstand already seized between shaky fingers. Though August was absent, your heart thrummed with ire upon setting foot onto the furry rug, as if he was to appear behind you at any given moment.

It was a room that reeked of debaucheries of all kinds: "borrowed" works of art depicting naked nymphs adorned the cherry-wood shelves, divine entities hung onto the wainscoting, and trophies he kept from his victims were encased in a fancy vitrine. Even the slate-blue view felt different from this spot; the rocky piers seemed like a pathway to a marine graveyard.

You paid no mind. You knew who you married and gained nothing but ethereal bliss whenever August fucked you against the window for the shark and whales to see. 

Like a girl crawling into the rabbit’s hole, you took half a twirl. There, below the large monitor plastered to the wall, stood the locked chest. Black and gold roses ornamented its exterior and a trident crest was engraved on the lock. Only a fool would overlook such blatant temptation, and though you were no foolish girl, you were feeble at the face of seduction. 

Falling to your knees, you made haste to unlock the chest, your heart drumming in your ears with the notion that you defied the words of your strenuous lover. But the same muscle that pumped you with fear, pounded wickedness into your blood. 

If only you were blessed with a shred of your husband’s patience.

All the toys inside were placed in order, sanitised, and appropriately boxed in such fashion that you knew August would notice if something was misplaced. The man had the capability of finding an eyelash on the carpet. Still, unrelenting desire strung the cunning finger you ran over the loot, carefully picking one of the familiar vibrators he used on you before. 

'Here?'  

Standing at the centre of his tidy office you contemplated, suddenly aware of how the room leaked of his entity; scented notes of old leather binding and his woodsy cologne threatened to adhere to your skin, making this mischief taste like a crime. It was best to keep all disobedient whims in an isolated location, you assumed and allowed your eyes to further drift and glide upon the large monitor and the antique desk where August kept the remote. An abrupt wicked idea swam into your mind, reminding you of his private collection. 

Catalogued alphabetically, he kept them on his streaming device. 

'It should make things quick...' you convinced yourself whilst nibbling on your bottom lip. How worse could it be, anyway? You already rummaged through his chest. Taking a gander at his not-so-secret directory was puny in comparison. 

With your lungs in fists, you slipped your panties to your ankles and settled on the cosy leather chair in front of his desk. Ignoring the red flag waved by your anxiety, you reached for the remote and clicked the button. 

August made no effort to hide his recordings, simply naming the directory as "Films," as if it contained ordinary Hollywood blockbusters. Impatient, you scrolled down the list, trying to keep the jealousy from simmering in your bawls. August wedded you in this fort, but he never captured you on film like he did his girls. All lovers from the past, of course, but still it almost irked you; yet you brushed these concerns away and picked a file with the name you liked most and pressed “play”.

The ocean's lament was instantly swallowed by guttural howls and grunts that took every empty space within the chamber. Before your flaring eyes appeared the most forbidden of spectacles— your husband taking a different woman. It was odd to hear the familiar timbre of his groans laced with the voice of another. It was even stranger to sense the unmistakable spark of desire jittering in your cove.

Poseidon himself could not compete with the glory of the man, naked and drenched, all muscles and might. Furious, he took her on her knees, his fingers cradling her skull, pushing her head to the pillows while restraining her wrists above the small of her back. She wasn't you and still you clenched, aroused by the sight of the sweat glistening the fur of his torso and by the lack of mercy in the violent motion that ended with the dutiful grind of his sac against her swollen lips. 

You hadn't even realised how shamefully you dripped upon the oxen leather of the seat, your thoughts focused on the odd mixture of envy and lust that penetrated your blood. 

Desperate to unleash the monstrosity building within your core, you spread your legs over the desk and pressed the toy between your slippery petals. A shuddering whine rode your breath at the brush of the buzzing device, the pleasure so unimaginable it nearly drowned your senses. Gasping, you fought to maintain a hooded gaze upon your lover and his ‘whore,’ and imagined that the rosy silicon phallus that entered your anticipating hole was his swollen cock.

Your walls quickly clenched around the toy in true longing while the window trembled under the muffled rumbling of thunder. Perhaps your passions thickened the clouds. Or maybe it was the immoral streak of ecstasy laced by danger. Whichever it was, it urged you faster toward imminent bliss.

The other woman’s moans entwined with yours while your wayward hand mimicked the rhythm of bodies slamming together in the same frantic chaos that swept you.

Sweat-riddled, your ankles lost way across the smooth surface of the desk, leaving oily markings in a frenzy as climax drew close.  

‘Almost…’

‘Almost…’

‘So close…’  

‘August!’

"Enjoying yourself, my little princess?" 

Lightning painted the room bright purple, announcing the thunder that tore through the ocean. It wasn’t half as frightening as the low timbre of his voice, which cruelly withheld your ecstasy. The fervour in your veins turned glacial; one moment you ascended to the heavens and the next, got rejected at its golden gates. All the while the growls of his reflection on the monitor echoed through the chamber along with the buzzing toy still buried inside you.

It granted no pleasure now, but further stretched the guilt.

Calm and forebodingly stoic, August reached a curious hand between your quaking thighs, seizing the toy and flicking the switch off. Unable to lift your gaze to meet his severe face, you struggled to swallow and kept your eyes glued to the monitor. Yet, there was no escape from his reflection—the “real” him present in the room peered back at you through the glassy screen. Standing behind you, he etched his fingers around the headrest of the chair and tutted. 

“Do you like watching me with others, sweetling? Did this video make you wet?” he asked curiously.

Before any words formed on your quivering lips, his hand fell to your mound. An intrigued “hmm,” flowed from his throat as he found you overflowing with arousal. Like a whore, you couldn’t help but squirm into his touch, your body still enraged of being denied pleasure, and so was the sky that now threatened to turn the ocean upside down. 

You nearly gasped at the heavy patter of rain that began to hit the window. 

“I…”

“Disobeyed me,” he completed the sentence, his voice mellow and pleasant though the caress of his breath on your face burned.

“...missed you.”

Your attempt to pacify him did not go unnoticed. Lips stretching to a slanted grin, he dared to replace the toy with two fingers that drove inside your gaping hole—sensing how you wrapped and suckled around his long digits like a carnivore plant.

“Such a sweet gesture,” he retorted, “and still, my love, my dear wife who I’ve given everything to, has defied me like a lawless brat…unable to wait for her husband to return from his very important meetings.” His dainty fingers pumped crudely deeper, not to please you but remind you who you belonged to. 

Writhing in your seat, you fluttered your eyes shut. “Where were you?”

Ignoring your question, he leaned down, his lips mere inches from your ear and whispered, “I think it’s time I’ll tame my bratty woman for good, don’t you?” 

You shuddered to think what punishment he had in mind, your heart sinking to a dark pit at the deadly kiss he offered next to your ear; but then, he took your wrist and in a surprising tenderness guided you from the chair to bend over the desk. 

Predictably, the movie had run its course and started again from the beginning, her promiscuous moans and the pounding of their flesh stealing your attention for a split second. 

Having you at a disadvantage, August drew an invisible line from your spine to the curve of your behind, his fingers mimicking lines drawn on soaked sand. “All this sea salt in the air around us and your skin is still so tender,” he murmured lovingly and secured a hand around your nape, holding your head forward. 

It excited you to watch them before and now with his groin hot and hard against your bare crease you were nothing but craving his cock. 

“Is this going to hurt? Will you spank me? Treat me like that whore on your film?” you asked naively, smoothing your sweaty palms across the antique wood with dark anticipation. 

“No, my beautiful angel.” his belt clicked and dangled like a set of heavy keys of a warden toying with his captive, “You are not my whore, but my wife. Which is why I’m going to put my child in your reckless womb to end your wicked ways once and for all.”

A gasp of shock left your throat, dazed by his threat you turned to protest. But the air drowned in your chest and your entire body stiffened as August’s ‘leviathan’ split your succulent flesh. Vulgarly you were penetrated, his size stuffing you so deeply, you felt the aching pressure in the pit of your belly. 

August stilled for a moment, lingering at the sensation of your hot cove fitting around him in both a strenuous protest and the pathetic defeat in which your body seized the beast, milking it in an attempt to rope him into your womb forever. 

“Oh, my sweet wife, I will stretch your little cunt to sheath me that not even these toys will please you. You see, everything here belongs to me, even your defiant womb. And I will leave a piece in me there to teach you a lesson.”

“I don’t think I am ready!” You whined, but the thought of being bred and carrying his child made your cunt unwittingly twitch. Your canal sucked him even deeper if it was even possible.

August sensed your convulsion and growled, his hips pressed unfathomably tight against your rear, making your cheeks ache from the press of his bones. It was torture with the film playing right in front of you; falling into a lucid delirium, your mind replaced her with yourself, yet your August refused to move, withholding your pleasure, owning it, owning you. 

His cock anchored hot and thick inside you, its throb as powerful as the thunder hammering the ocean.

You wanted to cry.

“August, please! I need you! I missed you!” 

With a harsh pull, he drew back and bludgeoned your crease, his might so vulgar the tip of your toes levitated from the ground. Again, and then again… he grunted at the choke of your flesh around him. Paying you no courtesy, he shook and pounded you almost terrifyingly as meticulously as he did this woman. 

His fingers burnt around your waist, so harshly you thought you’d never be able to sense anything but his grip under your skin. 

“Oh!” fat tears rolled down your cheeks, your breath a wheeze. Piteously you crumbled onto the desk. Thunders, cries, sounds of rutting flesh, and grunts surrounded you in this cavern of sin; you didn’t know which were yours and which were from the recording. All you knew was that he never took you so zealously before, you were at the brink of either rapture or falling to the abyss.

“You’re too deep! Too rough!” you wailed, unable to adjust to his pace but truthfully you didn’t want him to slow down. Currents of bliss submerged your loins the rougher he fucked you. The hot tingle in your core stormed with every collision of his cock with your cervix.

August reached from your neck to your jaw then and held your face to the screen.

“You wanted to watch her while touching yourself. Do you want to be her?” he growled and increased the pace, splitting through your body the way Dagon ripped open the waves. 

Even if you had words, you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. 

“You can never be her my darling,” August said and removed his hand from your hip. There was a quick drag of his drawer behind you and a rummaging sound. “Here, I’ll make us a short film; memorise this moment when you conceive me an heir.”

Struck by his words, you turned to stare. The sight of him behind you, inside you, was far more worthy than any film: sweat trickled down his messy curls and arduously strained face, his cerulean shirt damp and his mouth open as his fingers clutched the camera that was directed to the point where you were joint. 

Unrelenting, your orgasm flooded through every muscle like a wave of destruction that wrecked every organ within you until you felt nothing but bliss. You felt August’s heart beating in yours. 

There it was. Euphoria. 

You drowned in it. The maelstrom inside you swallowed and sank his ship as well. With a loud shout of surprise, he broke apart and erupted inside you, his creamy gift ploughing your womb until it overflowed and dripped down your quaking thighs. 

The rumbling from outside eased now, the clouded sky groaned with a release, their tears melding into the ocean never to be seen again.

August remained inside you, his breath thick, his hips gingerly grinding into yours to make sure his seed will take. 

“There you go, my special girl.” his voice came huskily. “Now you will never be alone, unlike these women I can’t even remember.”

Your hand instinctively snapped to your lower belly, soothingly caressing it in a reverie. You felt battered, full, and disgustingly and arousingly dirty as he swam inside you.

Yet the thought that he impregnated you made your heart flutter. 

Was there a more eternal symbolism of love than a legacy?

“August…” you whispered. Beneath you, the desk slightly shook, little tremors vibrated against the delicate pads of your fingers. Turning your head back, you offered him an enamoured glance and reached a hand in plea to lace fingers with his. 

His storm-kissed eyes softened and he broke into a sigh at the sight of his wife at her best submissive behaviour. The greatest of all delights was to refine a crude rock into a fine delicate diamond. Proudly, he took your hand in his, entangling your fingers together, yet he kept the video-camera aimed at your joint bodies. 

“Don’t move,” he breathed behind you and carefully pulled out his shaft from your flooded hole. A velvety chuckle played on his tongue, impressed by the wet plop and thickness of the cream that leaked off your entrance. Your cheeks burnt as you realised what he has done; your lips parted open to complain but then, with his cock already fully rigid and thick, he plugged you once more, shoving his seed back inside you.

“What are you doing?” 

“Waste not, my angel,” he tutted and remained still, brushing his knuckles up and down the curve of your rump.

“Oh, how long?” you whined, uncertain if you are capable of staying this way with him throbbing between your taut walls.

“Until the sky clear up?...” he suggested, voice haunted by lingering satisfaction. 

The waves of your previous orgasm were yet to ebb, and now stronger tides began to emerge. Frustration grew within once again and sadly, August’s will had the mettle of an anchor.  

“At least tell me where you were!” you yelped.

August scoffed, and wrapped his hands around your waist, only slightly guiding you back into his hips. “No, no, my love. Every marriage needs a little bit of mystery, as you’ve already learned. But now do me a favour,” he uttered and placed the remote next to your hand. 

“Play us another one? We might be here a while.”

Credits: Dividers by @firefly-graphics. Themes Inspired by Angela Carter’s Bloody Chamber. Leviathan inspired by @sillyrabbit81​!!

Disclaimer: I don’t own August Walker or Mission Impossible.

[babblydrabbly]

A filthy ask to close down the week—off the top of your head, out of these four characters you write for, Butts vs Boobs, which do they prefer?

Rick Flag, Takashi Kovacs, Digger Harkness, Eddie Brock (or Venom???)

The choice is in your hands! — whichever part of the body they might have a handful of 🤪🤣

[ A/N: Think this goes without saying but first of all, filth ahead. Second of all, I'm terribly biased but I did my best. Tits are tits and I love them all especially all of these himbos what who said that.]

Rick flag x reader | takeshi kovacs x reader | digger harkness x reader | Eddie brock x reader

Some B vs. B headcanons below!

Colonel Richard 'Ass Man' Flag, Jr.

Give him an hour to worship your ass and he'll coax you into going longer.

Loves to palm you in both hands while the two of you kiss. He's surprisingly into making out on the couch when you agree to sit on his lap.

But it's never just kissing for too long. He loves it when you ride him so he can sink his grip into you and fuck you up close and tight.

He admires every little bite or scratch he leaves on you, but his hand prints and red marks on your ass are what please him most.

Really loves the slaps that make you jump and clench around him. He likes to watch your face when he lands the perfect ones.

But for every bruise, he's still the king of aftercare. When you're all splayed and fuck out on your bed, he loves to come over for a little TLC and press kisses against every little mark he's left.

He loves to feel how warm your skin still is against his face.

And while he's down there, how about round three?

The oral fixation isn't limited to just cigarettes.

Always wants to strip your top off first to get his mouth on your neck and the swell of your breasts.

His patience with teasing you is infuriating. Takeshi will lick, kiss, and suck your chest til you're writhing beneath him. He loves to sit back and admire how you look lying down naked on the sheets.

He also loves to get a handful from behind while he's pressing his big body flush to your back as he fucks you. His grip is possessive and bruising and every bit the relentless envoy who can goes hours without stopping.

But in those private moments when he's showing you how vulnerable he is, you can always get him to rest his face on your chest and relax.

He gets as much comfort from the skin to skin contact as he gets aroused. But let's be honest- the hurt/comfort turns into top service nine times out of ten.

Guess where his favorite place to paint you with his come is. (But he's a gentleman. He's more than happy to lick you clean).

Trying to get Digger Harkness to choose one or the other is an insult, frankly.

When Digger Harkness goes in, he goes all in. Tits, ass, he's never going to get enough of either. What do you expect from a man who likes to take it all?

Sometimes it just depends on his mood. One day you're showing off a top that catches his attention, and Digger is saddling up behind you, getting both hands on your chest and his mouth on you.

Other days, you're lounging on your stomach in your underwear or a towel, and he can't help but stop what he's up to and admire the view.

He'll strip off his own shirt, use his strong arms to nudge your legs open, and keep them spread while he has his way with you until you're begging him for more.

And while he likes to narrow his focus down to the areas that pleasure you the most, he always makes time to mark you where other people will see. No leaving anything to the imagination. Those goods are his.

But make no mistake- Digger will do any-fuckin'-thing to get his hands on you. He likes to play rough, but any morsel of you offer up will have him on his knees for you.

Venom doesn't see why Eddie would have a preference- every part of you is delicious.

But while Eddie agrees, he just can't get enough your ass. Ever since you went for a ride with him and he caught a glimpse of you straddling his bike from behind, the image has been burned into his brain.

Eddie loves to press his full body weight on top of you while he fucks you into the mattress doggy style. He's always careful, but sometimes the way he and Venom growl in your ear makes you feel like you're theirs in a way no one else has.

And when you stand with him- in front of him in line at some place to eat, beside him in an elevator, etc. Eddie's hands is always on your ass. Rubbing, squeezing.

He's the kind of partner to slip his hand into your back jeans pocket while you're walking.

And Venom grows to love seeing his teeth marks all over your backside. He delights in the way you shiver at the scrape of his teeth against your skin- like meek prey before he devours you.

[hopelesshawks]

Can I request a Compress x Reader? Babytrapping + Breeding?

Ohhh interesting, of course you can! I rarely write for the villains so this will be fun. You didn’t specify but because baby trapping I did fem!reader. I also just realized you might’ve meant reader baby trapping Compress but I wrote Compress baby trapping reader so I hope that’s what you wanted 😅

The following request contains dark content. Check the warnings before reading

Warnings for vomiting, pregnancy, manipulation, non-violent sexual assault (baby trapping), breeding kink, unprotected sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), minor dumbification? (reader is very no thoughts, head empty during the smut), minor size kink, minor pain kink

Three years.

Three years together and yet you never would’ve guessed that your boyfriend is the notorious Mr. Compress of League of Villains infamy.

You first met Atsuhiro while working at a hole in the wall theater company. He came up to you after performing one night and had been so effortlessly charming that you’d instantly been put under his spell. He was more intelligent than all of your exes combined and could make you laugh like no one else could. It hadn’t taken long for you to fall totally and completely for the charming man you met that night.

But all of that came crashing down around you when he came home from a “business trip” with a prosthetic arm and no amount of half-assed excuses about an accident on stage could assuage your suspicions. He managed to dodge a confrontation with you for almost a week before you’d finally put the final pieces together and went to him to demand an explanation.

“You’re a terrorist Atsu!”

“That’s just what the heroes want you to think my love, don’t fall for their propaganda.”

“It’s not propaganda it’s just a fact! People have died because of your actions!”

“And how many more have suffered or died because of heroes and the society they created.”

“You’re deflecting. I have always indulged your rants about hero society but this is too far! The man I fell in love with would never stoop to this level!”

Atsuhiro crosses the room to you in two quick strides, cradling your face gently with his hand while you feel the cool metal of his other find your hip, fingers slipping under your shirt.

“I’m still the man you fell in love with (y/n), I can assure you of that,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“How could that possibly be?”

“Let me show you.”

He pulls you into a gentle kiss, reassuring in its care. As his lips move against yours, gently coaxing them to open so he can deepen the kiss and slip his tongue inside, you struggle to maintain your earlier anger. It’s a distraction and you know it is but it’s hard to resist as he starts to move you both back towards your bedroom. He makes quick work of your clothes and by the time your back hits the plush of your mattress you’re both already naked. His mouth finally releases yours to travel down your body, leaving bruises in his wake as he marks you as his.

“Atsu, wait we should, ah-” you start but he quickly shushes you before licking a long stripe up your waiting sex.

“Just relax Angel, let me take care of you. Let your thoughts drift away,” he all but purrs.

You try to focus on the conversation you know the two of you need to have but it slips from your fingers like grains of sand as he brings one hand to your swollen clit and starts rubbing slow circles. Your hands tighten in the sheets as he draws a low, keening whine out of you. His hazel eyes dance with smug satisfaction as he watches you try and fail to form a coherent thought. He doesn’t let up the pressure on your clit for even a moment as he drops his mouth to your waiting cunt and plunges his tongue inside. Your hand flies down to his curly hair on impulse, tangling in the brown locks and gripping tight. Your nails scratch along his scalp and your tight grip tugs at the roots of his hair but he loves the pain of it, knows it’s a sign he’s doing well as he brings up his free hand to add two fingers inside you as well. After so long together he knows your body just as well as you do and it takes no time at all for him to find that one spot inside you that has you seeing stars. Your climax builds and builds until you finally crash through the peaks of your pleasure, walls fluttering around your lover’s tongue and fingers as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

You’ve barely had time to recover from your orgasm before you can feel his erection pressing at your entrance. “W-wait, Atsu, condom,” you pant, shifting in the bed to reach for the bedside drawer but Atsuhiro stops you. “We don’t need it baby, wanna feel closer to you,” he murmurs, pressing kisses along your face as he eases you back down to laying flat on the bed. “But what if-” “You’re on birth control right?” he cuts you off. “I mean yea but-” “Then it’ll be fine, you worry too much.”

Any further protests you might’ve had are immediately silenced as a snap of your boyfriend’s hips has the tip of his cock brushing your cervix. You gasp as your body attempts to adjust to his girth. “You’re taking me so well baby, isn’t this so much better? Feel how close we are. Nothing between us, just as it should be,” he coos and it does feel good, good enough that despite the voice in your head telling you you should be cautious, you only nod and beg for more. The grin Atsuhiro gives you is almost blinding right before he presses his lips to yours, kissing you greedily as he slowly withdraws his hard cock before pushing back inside you again. You whimper and whine into his mouth as he starts to pick up the pace, each thrust more brutal than the last. Eventually he leans back and away from you, shifting your hips so he can plunge himself in deeper, but with his lips no longer occupied with yours he’s free to let his thoughts spill out and into the room:

“Gonna fill you up so well, fuck, my beautiful Angel.”

“You and me forever baby, gonna look so good round with my kids.”

“Taking my cock so well, can’t wait until you’re full of my seed.”

The words wash over you but barely register. There’s no room in your brain left for anything else as Atsuhiro takes over every corner of it. Language becomes a foreign concept to you, barely able to articulate your own pleasure in more than the sinful sounds dripping from your lips, let alone trying to process your boyfriend’s ramblings. His thrusts start getting sloppier as he brings one hand between you both to stroke your clit and push you over the edge with him. “I’m so close angel, I’m so close. Cum with me. Want you to finish with me while I stuff you full of my cum,” he pants and all you can do is nod as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. As you clench harder around him he goes toppling over the edge first, crying out your name as he spills his load inside you. You never would’ve anticipated enjoying it so much but it’s that feeling that sends you over the edge, falling apart around his cock as he finishes filling you with his cum.

He helps you come down from your high with sweet kisses and whispered words of encouragement, but as the haze of lust fades, you start to remember the fight you both were having before. As much as you would like for this to be the kind of thing you can just kiss and make up over, it’s not and you know it’s a conversation that needs to be finished. Looking at your boyfriend as he settles more comfortably on top of you though, you can’t bring yourself to ruin the moment. Sleep is weighing heavy on your eyelids anyway so you resolve yourself to bring it up the next day.

Except the next day ends the same way.

And the day after that.

And the day after that…

Every time you try to bring back up Atsuhiro’s secret double life as Mr. Compress he manages to distract you just long enough to get you back into bed. At first you tell yourself it’s not a big deal that the conversation’s been delayed a couple days, but then it turns into a week. A week of very hot sex, mind you, but if the existence of Atsuhiro’s double life was a red flag then certainly his insistence on avoiding discussing it is an even larger one. After two weeks you finally resolve yourself to talking to him the next morning over breakfast, no distractions and no avoiding the issue with sex. Cooking helps with your nerves, giving you something to do with your hands and a task to focus on to help you ignore your roiling stomach. You end up making almost an entire breakfast buffet by the time Atsuhiro emerges from your shared bedroom to join you in the kitchen.

He barely has time to tell you good morning before you’re rushing him to the table and setting plates full of food down. You know you have to tread carefully so you use the time you both spend eating to organize your thoughts. This time for sure you’ll talk to him. You finally open your mouth to confront Atsuhiro once and for all but as you feel bile start to crawl up your throat what comes out instead is “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

No sooner have you said the words are you shoving away from the table and rushing into the nearest bathroom. You get to the toilet just in time, fingers clutching the rim of the bowl as you violently eject the contents of your stomach into the water below. It burns your throat coming up and your eyes sting, but a warm, comforting presence is by your side in an instant, one hand coming up to rub your back gently as the other pulls your hair away from your face. Only once your stomach is thoroughly emptied does the heaving finally stop and you’re able to sit back and catch your breath. “Are you ok my love? What’s wrong?” Atsuhiro asks with gentle care as he pulls you close. You shake your head, unsure yourself of what had turned your stomach. Sure, you were nervous to talk to Atsuhiro but not that nervous. It can’t have been something you ate since all you’d had was the breakfast you made and you know everything was cooked properly. You rack your brain for an answer only to go rigid when you start to settle on one.

“Atsu what’s the date?”

“The 22nd baby, why?”

Your blood runs cold.

You’d been so preoccupied with figuring out things with Atsuhiro that you hadn’t even noticed how much time was slipping past but there’s no doubt about it. Your period is two weeks late.

“I think I need to go to the doctor,” you whisper. No way in hell you’ll leave this up to a drugstore test. There must be another explanation for your sudden nausea. Sure, you and Atsuhiro had pretty much abandoned condoms. Every time you started to reach for one, he’d remind you how good it felt not to use one the first time and convince you to forgo it again. But you’re on birth control! This isn’t supposed to be possible.

God bless him, Atsuhiro doesn’t press you any further on why exactly you want to go to the doctor instead of trying to find something at home to settle your stomach. He simply helps you off the floor and then grabs the keys to your car so he can drive you to the doctor himself. You’re incredibly grateful that he doesn’t seem to share your nerves. He’s a calming presence next to you as your anxiety kicks into overdrive.

You’d asked Atsuhiro to take a seat without you while you checked into the urgent care. You didn’t want him to hear you describe your symptoms to the nurse waiting there. The kind woman immediately suspects the same thing you do and leads you to the bathroom so you can pee in a cup. She’s sympathetic and reassuring as she tells you to return to the waiting room while the doctor runs the pregnancy test but it does little to soothe your frayed nerves. The air in the waiting room feels oppressive and when your name is finally called to go back and see the doctor, Atsuhiro’s hand in yours is probably the only thing that keeps you grounded. You take a seat on the examination table and instead of moving to sit down in one of the chairs in the room, Atsu stays by your side, whispering reassurances into your ear. “Whatever’s going on I’m here for you my love.”

The doctor strides into the room shortly afterwards, greeting you warmly even if somewhat absentmindedly as she moves to the computer to check for your details. She confirms your date of birth and then after scrolling for a bit her eyes finally land on the results of your test. She smiles and your heart sinks. “Well it looks like congratulations are in order, you’re pregnant!” she exclaims, beaming at you. A lump forms in your throat as tears threaten to fall, anxiety making your hands shake as the weight of the situation starts to crash down on you. The doctor misinterprets your reaction and as she leaves the room to get you pamphlets on what to expect and how best to take care of yourself during your pregnancy, her reassuring words that promise you’ll make a great mother are anything but.

As soon as the doctor leaves the room you break, tears cascading down your cheeks as your chest heaves. Atsuhiro pulls you into his embrace, letting you fall apart in his arms as you come to terms with the news. “I’m not ready to be a mom, I can’t do it on my own,” you cry, hands clenching onto his shirt. “I know my love, I know, but you’ll never be alone as long as you have me. I’m here for you. I’ll always be here for you,” he assures you, pulling you in even closer.

As you continue to cry into his chest, murmuring hiccuping thank you’s between heaving sobs, Atsuhiro can’t help but smile to himself.

He’ll have to remember to thank Dr. Garaki for the fake birth control pills later.

General Taglist: @ahtsuwu @oikawaandkuroostan @larkspyrr @oliviasslut @black-rose-29