#excellent questions bud!

[charlietheepicwriter7]

"Grandfather."

Ra's knew who the boy was the moment he'd snuck into the room. He'd allowed the child--more man than child now, but everyone was a child compared to him--moments to steel himself while Ra's refrained from acknowledging his presence. The boy's breath was barely audible but unsteady, and a drop of something fell to the floor.

His grandson was injured. "Danyal," he greeted and finally gazed upon him for the first time in seven years.

Danyal had grown into his father's height, yet stayed lean in regards to his musculature. His black hair had grown out of the League-regulation haircut, held back in a messy braid. He held himself as strong as he could, but kept an arm wrapped around his stomach. His shirt--standard American teenage garb, he dismissed--was spotted with blood and he could see bandages poking out from under the cloth.

With great care, Danyal knelt before the Demon Head and recited the Oath of Loyalty.

Ra's watched.

The boy's tongue, fat with English, spoke the League's variant of Arabic with the grace of a mace to the head, yet his words were clear. He took his time speaking the oath, carefully sounding out words, working hard to avoid mispronunciation. The Oath in question was the older version, from before Deathstroke's insurrection, but Danyal spoke it with a calm certainty that it would be accepted.

And without a doubt, it would be accepted.

Talia's eldest son had been born from her body instead of through science, a mistake that nearly cost her the child and damaged him upon birth. While the best doctors in the world saved his life, Danyal Al Ghul would always be weak in a fight, always prone to illness, always struggling to excel. When it became clear that the boy couldn't become the next Demon Head, Ra's sent Talia to create a replacement while arrangements were made for her first child to be taught business and science, for the betterment of the League. Danyal, very much his father's child, thrived in his intellectual pursuits while Damian grew and developed into a budding assassin.

But Danyal was more like his father than he'd ever knew. Ra's couldn't miss the signs of one of his family turning away from the League. Not the mission--Danyal had written several university level papers defending the environment by the time the boy was 10--but Ra's methods...

Ra's had a conundrum. Danyal was a dedicated conservationist; once the boy was an adult, Ra's was certain he'd take the world by storm and bring the League to new heights. But if he forced his methods onto Danyal, he could create an enemy of him, just as his father was.

Ra's gave Danyal an offer; Danyal would be allowed to leave the League and live a normal life if and only if he faked his own death in such a way that reinforced Damian's loyalty to the League of Assassins.

Danyal had been hesitant at first, but past his test with flying colors. Instigating one of the more unstable assassins into organizing a coup, cutting the insurgents off near immediately, but "dying" protecting both his younger brother and mother. It was a masterful performance. Even Talia hadn't known about the deceit.

And yet, here he was, on his knees, pledging loyalty. Danyal knew what that meant, knew what he was returning to, which morals he would be allowed to keep.

"And what do you bring with you, child of no one?" Why should the League accept the return of this child, who left once before?

Danyal met his eyes. "I bring with me, my team, who are loyal to me and me alone. I bring with me, research surrounding the Lazarus Pits, in origins and further uses for the waters." Ra's raised an eyebrow, and Danyal smirked. "I bring with me, my knowledge, nurtured within this very home and sharpened in the world outside. I bring with me, my weapons, built with my own hands. I bring with me... my body, finally healthy and whole." He brought his head down to the floor, trembling with pain. "I bring my whole self to the Demon's Head, for Him to accept or reject."

Ra's smiled. "By the shadows that guard our order and the blood that binds us, I accept this oath. From this day forward, you are an instrument of the League, a harbinger of justice, and a weapon in the hand of Ra's Al Ghul."

Danyal returned to his feet, swaying percariously. He needed immediate medical attention. Despite this, he continued, "Long live the League of Assassins. Long live Ra's Al Ghul."

And he collapsed onto the floor.

[wandasaura]

THE ONE YOU REACHED FOR

summary — after you decide to be a brat as a means to get natasha’s attention, she punishes you, though wanda thinks she’s entirely too soft

warning(s) — married wandanat, dom/sub relationship, bratting, punishment, grinding, humiliation, spanking, orgasm control, daddy kink, minor choking, strap-on usage, degrading, praise, oh so much reassurance, aftercare, wanda being a menace, reader being a menace right back, essentially enemies to lovers but reader’s stubborn, men/minors dni

authors note — this series was inspired by gold rush on ao3! i highly recommend checking it out! that being said, i may have gotten carried away with this dynamic but i absolutely adore wandanat and the budding relationship between wanda and r (even if r is too stubborn to see it yet), apart of the you are in love universe

you are in love universe

♥️⊹ ˚ . 18+, men/minors dni ⁺ 𓈒 ꒰💌꒱ ♡ ･ mommy maximoff ✧

Natasha’s office was cold. Your legs and arms were adorned in a layer of goosebumps that even a night in the Antarctic would envy, but she made no indication that she even noticed your violent shivering. You were just thankful she hadn’t made you face the wall, at least now you could watch as she sifted through emails and excel word documents with ease. Your nose scrunched in disgust when you caught sight of a particularly grueling math equation, but she had tackled it with grace, something she did frequently. Nothing could rattle her composure, not even your brattiness on the hottest summer day New Jersey had seen all season.

You heard Wanda’s footsteps before you saw her, but there was no doubt in your mind that the auburn-haired Sokovian was the one coming up the stairs. Nobody else had a key to the house, nobody save from you and well, you were already inside. The Maximoff’s were a high profile couple. Even before you’d gotten into a relationship with Natasha had you known of their existence. It was hard not to know of them, their multi-billion dollar law firm was at the top of its game and every celebrity and major corporation wanted them on their side. You’d want them on your side too if it ever came down to it, but thankfully you’d managed to stay out of trouble. Legally at least.

You saw Wanda before Natasha did, though you knew the scarlet-haired woman had heard her office door squeak on its hinges when she entered. Your cheeks flushed pink when Wanda’s eyes met yours and she raised a questioning brow at your predicament. She didn’t address you, no she completely ignored you in favor of sparking up conversation with her wife, the woman you had initially sought attention from.

“What’s she doing here?” Wanda questioned smoothly, her perfectly manicured hands finding their rightful place on Natasha’s shoulders, working out a knot near the nape of her neck. You huffed your annoyance, watching them with narrowed eyes as you pulled your arms closer around your torso and tried to keep warm. Initially, the cold had been comforting. It was blisteringly hot outside, and when you’d entered your cheeks had been flush from the sun, but now you wished Natasha would turn down the air conditioning or at least take pity on your chattering teeth and throw you the hoodie that laid unused on the couch beside her.

“Wanted attention. She almost had it too.” Natasha shrugged, turning her head just enough to meet Wanda’s waiting lips. Their kiss was sweet, nothing short of marital, but it made your belly burn with envy as you watched Wanda get what you wanted.

“She’s freezing, Nat.” Wanda rolled her eyes softly, having noticed the slightest tint of blue that adorned your usually very pink lips. She reached for the hoodie on the couch, chucking it over to you despite her wife’s protests. That was all the attention you received before she was back to being entirely occupied with her wife. “How long has she been in the corner?”

“Mm, bought half an hour.” Natasha mused only half interested in the conversation Wanda was attempting to have, her fingers already back to typing frantically on the noisy keyboard. Typically, you loved the sound of her typing. It was fast paced and soothing, but now you wanted nothing more than to throw the keyboard across the room and demand she never touched it again. You were in no position to be making such demands, but still you let yourself imagine the satisfaction of the action.

You slipped the hoodie over your head, smoothing down your wild hair the second your hands had slipped past the tight cuffs at the bottom of the sleeves. The article was warm and well worn, though all you really cared to notice was how it smelled distinctly of citrus and calm. You could identify the softest note of coconut and maybe mandarin, and your brows furrowed. Natasha wore vanilla. She never ventured into anything fruity, claiming she herself was fruity enough to spare the general public of smelling it too. That meant the hoodie had to be Wanda’s, and while irrational, you felt like it burned your skin by just touching you.

“What’d she do? Bite too hard?” Wanda teased, not even glancing in your direction despite you being the topic of conversation. It was utterly humiliating, but you’ve learned to expect nothing less when Wanda’s around. The woman has a real knack for getting under your skin, intentional or not. “You should really train your pet better.”

“I’m not a pet.” You huffed out, crossing your arms over your chest defiantly, but your outburst was ignored by both women. If you didn’t know superpowers were just a thing of fiction, you would’ve believed that you’d become invisible.

Natasha laughed at Wanda’s assumption, though she shook her head in response. “I asked her to give me five minutes. All the money I give her, you’d think she would’ve gotten herself a watch. Needy little thing couldn’t even last three before she was crawling into my lap and trying to undress me.”

“You're answering Pepper’s emails.” Wanda laughed amusedly, completely bypassing Natasha’s summary of events, not at all surprised by your unwillingness to be patient. Patience seemed to be your biggest undoing, even after seven months of being taught the importance of it. “She’ll have a heart attack. It hasn’t sat in your inbox for at least two weeks yet.”

You couldn’t see Natasha’s face, but you could imagine her rolling her eyes. After almost a year of being under contract with the lawyer, you’d come to know her mannerisms like the back of your hand. This type of back and forth wasn’t new to you, but it’s the first time you’d been forced to watch without any kind of attention yourself. To say you hated it was an understatement.

“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha growled, not even having to look over her shoulder to know that you were starting to migrate toward them. Your footsteps were light, perfectly inaudible, but as well as you knew her, she knew you even better.

“I want you!” You whined rather petulantly, not caring how you came across, not caring that you’d probably just earned yourself at least twenty spanks for not only talking back to her but for leaving your post before you’d been given permission. You’d played this game too many times before. Wanda had seen you play this game too many times. But still, you never learned how to make things easy for yourself.

“Did I tell you that you could leave that corner?” Natasha all but growled, still not turning around to give you even a sliver of attention. Your usual soft and attentive dominant was uncharacteristically cruel today, and you couldn’t help but think that maybe you were toeing a little too close to the line

“No.” You answered meekly, digging your naked toes into the hardwood floors beneath your feet. Shame flooded your senses, a desperate need to be good coming over you and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Please Daddy. I don’t wanna stand in the corner anymore. It’s cold!”

“I swear, Nat. You need to do something about her attitude.” Wanda remarked, her eyes focused on her perfectly manicured fingers as she poked and pushed at her cuticles, entirely uninterested in your predicament.

“Yeah? And what would you suggest?” Natasha scoffed rather uninterestedly, switching through her tabs until she’d gotten back to her excel spreadsheet and transferred whatever finances she’d been focusing on for the last hour.

“Oh, I’d break her.” Wanda snorted, highly amused that Natasha thought you’d be able to handle whatever punishment she would have dished out for your disobedience. “That little girl doesn’t want to know what I’d do to her.”

Your insides burned at Wanda’s implication, and you couldn’t decipher if it was your burning hatred for her and her constant need to appear smug and all powerful, or if it was your desperate curiosity to take her up on that challenge that sparked such feeling in your belly. Whatever it was, it only added to the growing need between your thighs.

“Daddy.” You whined, shuffling on your feet as you contemplated going completely against her and approaching her lap with a pleading gaze, or retreating back to the corner until she deemed you sorry enough to leave it. “Please.”

“You’ve got a brat to tame, Romanoff.” Wanda mused, pressing one last kiss to Natasha’s cheek before she took up space on the two-person couch pressed up against the wall and just beneath the tightly closed and locked window.

“We both know that’s your forte.” Natasha scoffed, huffing out a laugh as she returned her attention to whatever problem Pepper was emailing her about. After seven months, you’d become well versed in the names and job descriptions of most of their employees, and you knew that if Pepper was emailing Natasha for anything at all, that it was important. A pit formed in your belly thinking about how you couldn’t even wait five minutes before taking her attention into your own hands. Clearly you’d interrupted something important.

“Daddy!” You pleaded, tears brimming your eyes as your guilt and desperate need consumed you. You weren’t sure which feeling was the cause for your tears, probably both, but you were at your breaking point and her silent game was only working to undo you faster than you could tolerate it. “Please.” You cried out weakly, nervously chewing on the string of the hoodie, not caring if Wanda would be repulsed by the action, nor if you ruined her hoodie because of it.

“Out of your mouth.” The Sokovian redhead demanded, not harshly, but not kindly either. You hadn’t even realized her eyes had been watching your movements, but your cheeks burned at the reprimand and the string of the hoodie, now damp from your tongue and teeth, dropped back to where it had previously been hanging. You hated giving her the satisfaction of your obedience, but your brain was too overwhelmed to be anything but compliant.

Your nails took the place of the hoodie’s string, already bitten down to the bone as a result of your crippling anxiety and desire to fidget with anything and everything. Natasha had been attempting to break that nasty habit, but she wasn’t around nearly enough for her efforts to be consistent. You saw her a handful of times a week, some days for the sole purpose of engaging in kink, sometimes just because she liked to know you as a person just as much as she liked to know you as her submissive, but there were weeks where she was needed on business and the best you’d get was a measly phone call and text messages. If you weren’t contractually binded, and had met by chance, you would have no hesitation about considering her a friend, though you liked much more to call her your daddy.

“Come here, baby.” Natasha demanded, pushing away from her desk and swiveling on the chair until her eyes met yours. You’d half expected Wanda to reprimand her for being too soft with you, but it seemed even the Sokovian could tell that you’d passed the point of being bratty and were now drowning in your own thoughts. There was a fine line between punishment and neglect, and even if the lawyer thought you were in need of serious correction, she’d be cruel to even consider leaving you in this state.

You approached Natasha hurriedly, sinking into her lap without hesitation. Your arms looped around her neck tightly, almost challenging her to even attempt to break your grip and send you back to the corner. “Don’t like bein’ ignored.” You sniffled, digging your face into her shoulder, hiding away from Wanda’s heavy gaze and the shame of your previous actions.

“Neither does Daddy.” Natasha stated matter of factly, only adding to the shame that was bubbling over in your belly. Her head rested heavily on the back of your head, allowing you to stay hidden as you attempted to keep yourself together. “Don’t think I’ve gotten about your snarky comment toward Wanda either, or how you deliberately disobeyed me when you took it upon yourself to leave the corner.”

You already knew where she was going with this line of conversation, and you whined pleadingly into her neck, desperate to just avoid another round of punishment in favor of being satisfied. Your hips rocked against hers, your fingers curling into her hair the way you know she likes, tugging gently when you weren’t immediately rewarded with a soft moan. Your bout of regret having clearly been forgotten about as you resumed the bratty tactics that had gotten you into the predicament in the first place.

A sharp sting spread up your thigh in seconds, the sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh echoing around the otherwise quiet office. You gasped in shock, pulling your face away from her neck to look deep into her eyes and search for forgiveness, but all you found was annoyance. You huffed, knowing that you were too far in to back down now, and so tauntingly, you resumed the act of rocking your hips into hers, not lost on the fact that she had a strap confined beneath her business slacks.

“Is it the red one I like, Daddy?” You asked coyly, letting your hand drop from where it was wrapped around her shoulders and teasingly venture down between the valley of her breasts until you came to the bulge in her pants. You squeezed experimentally, rewarded with her breathy moan when the hilt of the harness pressed against her clit, confirmation that she was at least half as worked up as you.

“Have I taught you nothing, Natalia?” Wanda growled, watching the scene unfold before her. You’d almost forgotten she was even in the room, and daringly your eyes snapped to hers. Wanda didn’t fold beneath your heavy glare, merely matching your stare with disinterest in her eyes. Natasha would’ve met your glare. She would’ve narrowed her eyes and silently dared you to keep up with that attitude, but Wanda acted like you weren’t shooting daggers through her. “If you do not want me to come over there and handle you myself, you will fix your attitude, brat.” The slight rasp in Wanda’s tone was undeniably a turn on, but you wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing she had gotten to you. Instead, you stuck your tongue out at her, unsure of how else you were meant to defy her wishes.

Before Wanda could get off the couch, a tick in her jaw at your blatant defiance, Natasha’s fingers were twisting into your hair and tugging your attention back to her. Your glare softened immediately, and sweetly, you placed a kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Do I need to remind you of our rules?” She warned, and you huffed in defeat, wringing your hands together in your lap as you shook your head. “Then you will drop your attitude and apologize to Wanda.”

“I didn’t even do anything, Daddy!” You groaned, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

Clearly that wasn’t the response Natasha was looking for, because in only a matter of seconds you were being hauled off her lap but a handful of your hair and forced to bend over the edge of the desk she’d been occupying for the last hour. “What is rule number six?” She growled in your ear, her hot and heavy breath only adding to the goosebumps that adorned your skin. You’d almost forgotten about them at this point, entirely warmed by her body being so close to yours and the hoodie over your shoulders, but now the memory of them was back and your teeth chattered in response.

A heavy hand met your denim covered ass cheek and your whined, back arching upward in an attempt to dodge her next hit. “What is rule number six?” She asked through gritted teeth, forcing you back into position the way she liked.

“I will show respect to Daddy and her friends.” You huffed, “But Wanda’s not your friend! She’s your wife! That’s not in the rules!”

“She is my wife, that’s right. That means you should not only show her respect, but worship the ground she walks on, not be a disobedient brat.” Natasha seethed, landing another harsh spank to the softest spot of your thigh, not caring that you’re particularly sensitive there, nor that you let out a sharp cry of pain that was in no way mixed with pleasure in response. You’d always hated when she spanked the back of your thighs. It was one of your only limitations when you’d been filling out the contract. It wasn’t a hard no, she never would’ve struck you there if it was, but it was something you’d requested be done sparingly, and clearly you’d worked her up enough to earn yourself one.

“M’kay.” You sniffled, burying your face in your folded arms, not wanting to even spare Wanda a glance. You were absolutely certain there was a smug smile on her lips as she watched you finally be dealt with, but something told you this was the bottom of the barrel when it came to punishments she was capable of.

“How many spanks do you get when you break a rule?” Natasha asked lowly, her left hand still tangled into your hair, and she pulled sharply, forcing your back to arch in her direction, not allowing you the dignity to hide away.

“Ten.” You cried out weakly, trying to alleviate the sting in your scalp as you followed your hand. You’d always been flexible, years of sports and training had assured that, but not even that could completely help you in this situation as she pulled back farther and farther until you stopped struggling in her grip and just admitted defeat. You could safeword if you needed to. Punishments were not an exception to your comfort, but you trusted her to not push your limits, and shamefully, you knew that you needed this. You’d feel too guilty to cope if she completely forwent punishment.

“And how many rules have you broken?” She asked, the softest tinge of her accent bleeding into her words as she let herself completely surrender to her dominant headspace. You always loved when you worked her up to this point, but you hated that this time it was a result of your bratty actions that had done it.

“Um, I don’t know.” You sniffled, but clearly that wasn’t the right answer as she tugged at your hair again, ignoring your sharp cry and the twitch of your fingers as you held onto the edge of the desk.

“What are the rules?” Natasha asked, only slackening her grip the slightest bit. It helped with the sting in your scalp, but it wasn’t completely gone yet.

“I will tell Daddy what I need and what makes me uncomfortable. I will drink at least one bottle of water a day. I will show respect to Daddy and her friends. I will not touch myself without permission. I will not cum without permission. I will use my safeword if I need to. I deserve aftercare.” You rattled off the list with a practiced ease, having practically had the rules engraved in your mind since the very first week of the arrangement.

“Did you tell me that you were feeling anxious being left in that corner?” Natasha’s voice was soft, her grip in your hair gentle and comforting. She let you rest against her chest, your punishment temporarily forgotten as she walked you through the reason behind the awaiting spanking.

Even Wanda had softened in the corner of the room, looking at you with a gleam of something indistinguishable in her eyes. You hated the sight of it, but you couldn’t look away with Natasha’s hand in your hair, so instead you opted to close your eyes, and Natasha allowed you to. Talking about your anxiety was not your favorite pastime, and it was typically avoided whenever Wanda or anyone else was around, but it seems today you wouldn’t get that courtesy. You knew you could safeword, you knew you could ask for Wanda to step out during this conversation at the very least, but as much as you don’t like her, you thought she deserved some kind of explanation for your earlier actions when you’d found comfort in destroying her hoodie. She had to have some idea by now. Natasha offered you too much reassurance for it to have gone completely unnoticed. You’d rather her have the answers then speculate.

“No, Daddy.” You whispered shamefully. “I-I was okay until Wanda said you were answering Pepper. I didn’t like you ignoring me, but I wasn’t anxious.”

“What made you anxious?” Natasha asked calmly, fully loosening her grip on your hair, instead settling for scratching softly at your scalp and letting you melt fully into her, her unoccupied arm wrapping around your torso and keeping you close. You’d never had a dominant prior to Natasha. You’d tested the waters with previous partners sure, but you’d never actively pursued it in the way that you were now. Natasha’s dominance over you didn’t stop once you left the bedroom, and unlike your previous flings, she always tried to understand your triggers so she could avoid them in the future, both sexually and domestically.

“Pepper only emails you when it’s important. I couldn’t be good for five minutes and I interrupted you when you were busy. After I barged in unannounced. I felt– I feel bad.” You whispered softly, dropping your chin to your chest, desperately craving her touch and correction. Nothing would calm the raging storm of guilt in your belly until she punished you. You wouldn’t be able to forgive yourself until you knew that she did, and words weren’t enough.

“Pepper does email me for important things most times, but she was only asking about the colors of the banquet, milyy. If it was important, I would have told you that.” Natasha gently informs, and your shoulders deflate in relief. You hadn’t even realized you’d been so tense, but with the promise that you hadn’t entirely disrupted her, you could relax. “Why didn’t you safeword? You know that if you start to feel anxious, no matter what, I expect you to safeword.”

“I thought I deserved to feel bad for interrupting you and being bad.” You muttered shyly, acutely aware of how Wanda’s breath caught in her throat at your explanation. You hadn’t ever shown this side of yourself to her. It was always Natasha alone who had the misfortune of catching you in an episode of panic.

“You are not bad. You are never bad. I do not want to hear you say that again, do you understand, detka?” Natasha asked sternly, and you merely shrugged.

“I was mean to Wanda, and I interrupted you, and I didn’t listen. That’s three rules. Please Daddy.” Natasha knew you needed her to spank you. You needed to clear your head, and you needed her to help you, but she wouldn’t relent until she heard you repeat her words.

“In a second, milyy.” She assured you gently, her hand leaving your hair entirely in favor of spinning you around in her arms and tilting your chin upward until you had no choice but to look her in the eye. “I want you to tell me that you are not bad.”

“I’m not bad.” You didn’t believe it. She knew you didn’t believe it, but for right now, she let it go. A soft kiss was placed on the tip of your nose, a sweet action that you had made clear you adored. Unlike the giggles it usually provoked, you merely smiled weakly and leaned into her touch.

“You’re getting thirty spanks. We’ll see if you deserve my strap after that.” Natasha nodded, content for the moment. She spun you back around, making quick word of the button and zipper on your denim shorts. Your cheeks flushed red, remembering the specific choice of underwear you’d chosen that morning. Baby pink flowers adorned your ass, and the somewhat frilly elastic edges were a gentle shade of green that would make Natasha’s eyes pop if she held it up to her face.

You felt entirely exposed knowing that Wanda was witnessing this and seeing your less than sexy underwear, but it wasn’t the first time she’s seen you be bent over a surface in her house. You remembered vividly the last time she had watched Natasha spank you. It had been after a long day in the office, and Wanda had come home to find you bent over the arm of the couch. She made a joke that Natasha intended to christen every piece of furniture in the house, and while it hadn’t been funny to you, Natasha had laughed loudly and freely in response.

“You will count after each one. If you mess up, we’re starting over. Do you understand?” She asked, pressing down on your back and assuring that you understood where you were meant to remain for the duration of your spanking. You were on your tippy toes, the top of your thighs pressing into the edge of her desk, but you didn’t have the right to complain about the uncomfortable position, so you merely nodded your head and braced for the first hit.

It came seconds later, powerful and unforgiving on your left asscheek. You felt the flesh bounce in response, and the string that was left behind was so sinfully pleasant that you ground your teeth together and choked out a harsh, “One, Daddy.”

The second hit was delivered all the same, left in the same exact spot with a practiced precision. Leave it to Natasha to have good enough hand-eye contact to be able to leave a handprint on your ass so vividly you’d see it leftover for days. The third hit came to your right asscheek, and a gush of arousal further dampened your already saturated panties. The flowers beneath your sopping entrance were undoubtedly a dark shade of pink by now, and you could only imagine what the sight looked like to her.

The fourth and fifth spank came directly after one another, and you counted them off rather breathlessly as her hand gently massaged your stinging flesh until it was nothing more than a pleasant ache. Your eyes were pinched shut, your breathing was shallow, but you craved the next hit, and when it didn’t come, you whined in protest and pushed your ass out toward her hips.

“Begging for me to spank you. How pathetic.” Natasha taunted, though she didn’t disappoint, and the next spank came quickly after, directed toward the center of your ass.

By sixteen, there were tears in your eyes and a desperate pulse in your clit, but you hadn’t miscounted nor forgotten about numbers entirely, and Natasha was beaming with pride. “Good girl.” She cooed, her fingers trailing over your panties until she came upon the wet patch between the apex of your thighs. “So fucking wet. Does it turn you on when Daddy spanks your ass?”

Natasha knows that it does. You’ve asked for enough spankings in the last seven months to prove that fact to her, but she still finds a way to humiliate you every time you find yourself bent over as punishment. There is a very thin line between a maintenance spanking and a punishment, but you know that by time you reach the thirtieth spank you’ll have crossed the threshold of pleasurable pain. “Y-Yes. Daddy please. Please.”

“What do you want, detka? Use your words. You had no problem using them earlier when you wanted to mouth off with my wife.” All the while her hand was still buried between your thighs, avoided your clit with skilled ease, and it was slowly driving you insane. Her index finger pushed against your entrance overtop of your panties, not enough to provide any semblance of pleasure, but still enough to make your knees tremble beneath your awkwardly supported weight.

“Spank me. Please, Daddy, spank me!” You sobbed, attempting to reach for the edge of the desk in a weak attempt to ground yourself in the moment, but with your half-floating position, you found that it was just out of reach and you cried out in frustration as you settled for digging your blunt fingernails into her desk instead.

You hadn’t noticed Wanda approaching you, too lost in the pleasure of Natasha’s fingers on your cunt and the delicious sting in your ass, but you felt her nonetheless. Her hands, so soft and warm compared to the freezing temperature of the office, found a place on your lower back that was still covered by the thick material of her sweatshirt.

“Shh, dorogoy.” She soothed you gently, a stark contrast to her typical cold and sharp tone. You didn’t have any fight left in you to care about her close proximity to you, and desperately you scrounged about until your hand found hers and squeezed tightly. It was at that moment that Natasha resumed her prior actions, and a harsh and sharp spank landed on your left asscheck.

“Seventeen, Daddy!” You cried out, squeezing Wanda’s hand tightly. You were beginning to regret breaking so many rules. You were still thirteen spanks away from being forgiven, and that pleasurable pain that you found comfort in was turning bitter the harsher she was with you. You needed this, both of you knew that, but that never made it any easier to swallow in the moment. Tomorrow, you’d think twice before sitting down for meals or tasks, you’d fondly poke at your sore ass and giggle at the dull ache that brought a sense of comfort and security over you, but for right now, it was torture, especially when you were so desperate for release.

Her hits only seemed to get harsher and stronger as you got closer to thirty, but Wanda didn’t pull away even for a second and every so often Natasha would whisper praises in your ear that made your insides turn to mush. You were lost in your head, mindlessly counting out numbers with no real acknowledgement for what they meant, just desperate to please her. It was only when you reached number twenty five that Natasha switched up her tactics and paused for a moment, taking the time to undress you fully and surrender your body to the harsh cold of her office.

You whined when your pebbled nipples met the cold surface of her desk, already sensitive without the stimulating chilled surface. You squirmed for only a second before Natasha reprimanded you for trying to find a comfortable position, stilling immediately in fear of her adding more spanks or taking away your right to feel her cock in your pussy as a reward. This was a punishment, you would take it how she gave it unless you absolutely couldn’t.

“Five more.” She promised, leaving a soft kiss in the middle of your back. “I want you to tell me you’re not bad after each one, is that understood?”

When you didn’t answer, entirely lost in the blissful beginning of subspace, Wanda gently captured your attention, showing you a glimpse of her softer side. A side you would see more of if you didn’t try to get under her skin each and every time she was around. “Daddy asked you a question, milyy. She expects an answer.”

Breathing out shakily, you nodded your head. “Understood, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Natasha hummed, but that was the last offer of praise you were given before her hand clapped against the skin of your thigh and you whined and keened in response, trying to wiggle away from her harsh hits.

“No, Daddy!” You sobbed, your hand desperately fighting against Wanda’s hold. She let you go instantly, and you didn’t hesitate to reach down and rub at the sore spot she left with a deep pout on your lips. “Ow!” You whined, tears slipping past your eyes and dampening your cheeks as your shoulders trembled.

“Shh.” Natasha and Wanda cooed in sync, and if you weren’t so spaced out you would’ve rolled your eyes at their alikeness. “I know it hurts, milyy. I know you don’t like it, but this is important to Daddy. It’s important to me that you know you’re not bad. Only four more. You’re being such a good girl. My best girl. Making Daddy so proud, taking your punishment so good. Let Wanda hold your hand, and it’ll be over soon. Then you’ll get me cock. Okay?” Natasha gently fussed over your state of upset, the pads of her thumbs wiping the tears off of your face. You leaned into her gentle touch, savoring it before you nodded weakly.

The next hit came just as harsh as the first, but you’d been expecting it at the very least, and hadn’t had such a violent reaction. Wanda praised you through the entire ordeal, not even considering reprimanding you when your voice grew hoarse and you barely remembered to echo the words Natasha had asked you to repeat. She got the hint that this was one of your softer limits, so she settled for talking you through it rather than demanding you show her partner some respect. She felt so full of warmth as she watched you take the last three spanks with minimal complaints, knowing the level of trust it took to allow a dominant to use a weakness against you, even if it wasn’t in any way ill intended.

“No more, Daddy! No more. Please.” You sobbed when the last hit came, your thighs a gentle shade of pink that Natasha would have fussed over had she not been entirely too committed to making sure you were okay. Your thighs were slick with arousal, your clit pulsed with need, and she had every intention of making it better once she got you to calm down.

“No more. You did so good for me, detka. My good girl. Daddy’s so proud of you.” She cooed gently, pulling you up off the desk and into her waiting arms. You melted against her chest, pliant and putty in her hands as she gently massaged your stinging ass, careful to leave your thighs alone for the time being.

“I’m sorry.” You sobbed, fisting her shirt in your trembling fists, suddenly very aware of how clothed she and Wanda were in comparison to you. Even your pink and green panties had been discarded on the floor in a pile, the scent of your arousal heavy and thick in the air.

“All’s forgiven, milyy. You’re okay.” She reassured, peppering tiny kisses into the crown of your head before she pulled away completely and eased you back onto her desk, this time allowing you to rest on your back in a comfortable position. Her skilled fingers dipped between your dripping folds, collecting your wetness that awaited and begged for her touch. “You’re so wet. Is this all for me?” She teased gently, bringing her fingers up toward her mouth. Her tongue darted out to sweep against the digits, and she moaned in delight at the taste of you. It had been entirely too long since she’d gotten to properly devour you, but that would have to wait until a later date. She didn’t have the heart to leave you hanging any longer then she already had, especially not when you’d been such a good girl for her.

“Please.” You begged, your hooded eyes tracing her movements as she sucked her fingers clean and let them leave her mouth with an audible pop as she abruptly broke the suction. “Please, I want your cock. I’ve been good! Please Daddy, I want you inside of me!”

“You’ve been so good, little one. The best girl.” Natasha affirmed, already working on the button of her business pants. You watched her intently, not paying Wanda the slightest bit of attention though you should’ve known better than that. When you were distracted with the sight of Wanda, the Sokovian woman to your right had taken it upon yourself to work you up even further, clearly not yet satisfied with the length of time you’d had to wait to get to this very moment.

Her fingers found your nipple in only a matter of seconds, and you gasped out in a mixture of shock and pain when she pinched and pulled at your sensitive buds cynically. You arched up into her touch, not sure if you wanted more of it or none of it, and your eyes fluttered closed. Wanda didn’t like that your attention was no longer on Natasha, and she made that clear when she twisted your left nipple harshly. “Eyes open. Your Daddy may have forgiven you, but I’ve yet to get an apology.”

Your eyes snapped open at her words, frantically searching for Natasha as you refocused on her half undressed body. Her black pants were on in a heap on the floor residing beside your own pile of clothes, but her shit was still buttoned over her chest, wrinkled from your tight grip and somewhat disheveled from how aggressively she’d pulled you flush against her at the beginning of your punishment.

Your lips parted in lust when you caught sight of the red strap-on between her thighs. She hadn’t confirmed your suspicions before, but now it was undeniable that throughout this entire ordeal, she’d been packing your favorite toy between her thick and strong thighs. A needy whine left your lips when Wanda harshly slapped at your tits, the soft mounds of flesh bouncing as a result of her hits.

“I don’t think you deserve to be fucked by your favorite toy after mouthing off to me, but you’re Daddy’s too kind to go get a different one. You should thank her.” She hadn’t said you didn’t deserve to be fucked at all, but something about the idea of Natasha switching to a smaller strap seemed like a worse punishment then being left high and dry all together, and feverishly you thanked her for her generosity, not wanting to risk the chance of Wanda’s words actually packing a punch.

Gently, Natasha guided the tip of the strap into your entrance, letting you get accustomed to the stretch before she completely bottomed out inside of you. She’d only gotten the red strap recently, three weeks ago after a business trip to LA, and while you adored it and took it like a champ every time she pulled it out, it was significantly girthier than any of the other ones that resided in her and Wanda’s collection. She didn’t want to hurt you, no matter how many times you told her to be rough.

“Move. Daddy, move please! Fuck me!” You begged, writhing beneath Wanda’s hot hands as she kept up with her ministations on your sensitive and aching nipples.

“You want me to move, pretty girl? You want me to fuck this needy cunt?” Natasha’s thumb found your clit easily, and she rubbed harsh circles along your sensitive bundle of nerves the way she knew you liked it, perfectly content with the knowledge that you wouldn’t last a full five minutes if she kept up the way she was. She was close herself. The strap had been rubbing against her clit since she’d put it on that morning, not knowing you’d show up, but anticipating it anyways. She really did know you like the back of her hand.

“Please! Please! Please Daddy, I want it! I need it!” You babbled needily, uncaring for how you came across to Wanda. You arched into the touch of the Sokovian, you desperately leaned into the strap, your body attempting to stretch in multiple directions as you chased after all of the sensations the two married women were providing your already overstimulated body.

Natasha didn’t need to hear you beg anymore. She set a brutal pace as she snapped her hips, rocking the dildo into your pussy and simultaneously chasing the pressure it put on her clit. She toyed with your clit in unwavering determination to see you fall apart, her eyes pinched shut as she chased after her own pleasure and provided you with yours. Your incoherent babbling was like music to her ears as she pulled your thighs further apart and thrust deeper into your pussy, hammering your sensitive and tight walls with a punishing pace.

“G-Gonna cum! Daddy! Please! Please! I want to c-cum! Please!” You pleaded and writhed, thankful that Wanda had eased off your nipples and you could now focus fully on the sensations that spread through your body from the way Natasha worked your cunt.

“Is that how you ask?” Wanda teased, her hot hand laying softly on your neck. She didn’t squeeze, she wouldn’t without your explicit permission, which she didn’t have, but just the thought of her choking you like Natasha did had your mind reeling and the desperation growing. “Ask nicely.”

“Please can I cum Daddy? Please!” You sobbed, feeling the coil ready to snap with or without Natasha’s explicit permission. You so desperately wanted to be good, wanted to prove yourself not only to her but to Wanda, who seemed to question if you even knew the definition of obedience, but you couldn’t stave off your orgasm for much longer. You’d been desperate for her touch all day, and now that you finally had it the way that you wanted it, it was almost impossible to deny yourself that release.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum all over my cock. Daddy’s gonna cum with you.” Natasha grunted in a manner that was so hot you nearly lost your mind. With Wanda’s hand still loosely around your neck and Natasha’s quick thrust and skilled fingers working you over, you fell over the edge and into a blinding orgasm that had tears falling from your eyes. That blissful taste of subspace that you’d been experiencing since spank seventeen took over in full force, and with the resolution of your climax, you surrendered to the fuzzy feeling in your mind.

Natasha kissed you gently, her tongue still tasting like your arousal from when she’d licked her fingers clean, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the taste of you on her lips. Your eyes fluttered closed when she stilled her hips and subsequently the dildo, drinking in every physical reminder of her touch like you were scared she’d vanish completely if you didn’t appreciate it.

When she started to pull out, wanting to rid herself of the harness after wearing it for so many hours, you whined in response, desperately pulling her closer to you. The strap-on rubbed against your sensitive walls in a way that was unpleasant at best, and you mourned the loss of the full feeling inside of you before it was even really gone.

“Not today, detka.” Natasha knew what you wanted. She knew how you liked to keep her strap buried inside of you for as long as she allowed after a session like this, but she couldn’t ignore her own discomfort for any longer, even if it meant bringing tears to your eyes. “Shh, it’s okay. Daddy’s still here.” She reassured softly, peppering kisses all over your face as she softly pulled the dildo out of you. You winced when your pussy squelched, a reminder of the wetness that still clung to your lower lips and thighs, but both women soothed your embarrassment with praises and reassurance.

“Clean yourself up.” Wanda nodded toward her wife, already managing to detangle your limbs from Natasha’s and exchange them for her own. It wasn’t the first time she’d assisted during aftercare, but it was the first time you’d been so far gone during it. She knew Natasha though, and the weight of the scene would surely dawn on her in only a handful of minutes now that she wasn’t being fuelled by adrenaline, and when that happened, when the crash came, Wanda knew that the Russian would want to be cleaned up and warm. “I’ll bring her to our bed. You need to focus on you for a couple of minutes.”

“Go with Wanda, baby.” Natasha didn’t argue with her wife, pressing a short kiss to both of your heads before she helped Wanda get a hold of you and cradle you to her chest. You had barely even recognized the shift, too sleepy and blissed out to realize that you were being carried away from Natasha and toward the warm master bedroom down the hall.

Wanda was gentle with you, and despite your hesitance to accept her help when you were in a fully sound headspace, you leaned into her now, craving more of her touch. Your glassy eyes searched for hers as she laid you gently in the center of the bed, already missing the warmth that she provided. You whined in protest, but Wanda only shushed you gently and stalked off toward the en-suite bathroom. You knew this routine well, but you were not at all fond of it.

A soft cry left your lips when you realized that you were all alone in their bed, and while their perfume lingered on the pillows and blankets, mixing together to create the most perfect and calming scent, it wasn’t as fulfilling as actually having them with you. The faucet running in the bathroom caught your attention, and just as you attempted to scramble off of the bed and follow the sound, Wanda’s voice had you stopping in your tracks and sinking into the plethora of pillows that surrounded you.

“Stay there, little one. I’ll be there in just a second.” She called out quietly, though her voice was laced with dominance that you couldn’t ignore. You whined pleadingly, looking between the open en-suite door and the hallway, desperate for either her or Natasha to come back and hold you. “Natty will be back soon. She’s probably getting you some water and a snack. You were such a good girl for her, malysh.”

“Good.” The word felt heavy on your tongue, but by some miracle you had managed to get it passed your lips. Your head was so fuzzy and void of any thoughts, but Wanda still praised your efforts.

When she came back into very, her hair was pinned up by a claw clip that you had seen Natasha wear a handful of times. You never really knew whose things were whose because the women shared everything so interchangeably, but despite your iffy relationship with Wanda, you thought it suited her well.

You were entirely too desperate for physical touch to care about who you sought it from (although secretly you were more than okay with it being Wanda who held you), and when her weight caused the mattress to dip as she joined you on the bed, you practically attacked her with your naked body. Her laughter was like music to your ears as she gently guided you into a lying position, shushing your complaints with a sweet and soft look in her green eyes.

“Such a good girl.” She cooed, dragging the damp washcloth up your inner thighs and over your sticky folds. You whined at the coldness of the rag and the rough material on your sensitive skin, but you made no attempt to wiggle away from it. “I know it’s cold, you’re being so good letting me clean you up. Do you hear that? That’s Natty.” Wanda smiled, effectively distracting you with the sounds of footsteps coming back up the stairs and toward the very room that you occupied.

“Daddy!” You whined, reaching for her the second you saw her in the doorway. As Wanda had promised, she had two bottles of water tucked beneath her arm and a sliced apple on a plate in her hands. She wore a gentle smile, her features no longer saturated in commanding dominance, much like Wanda’s weren’t either, though both women were highly aware of how you’d listen to their every command even without the practiced smolders they gave you.

“Just Natty, baby girl. It’s just Natty. We’re not playing right now, we’re all done.” She cooed gently, setting the plate of apples on the nightstand closest to the door before she reached out to take you into her arms. One bottle of water was passed to Wanda, who opened it thankfully and took a small sip, melting into the pillows against the headboard as she watched her wife fawn over you the way you deserve.

“Natty.” You whispered, preening as her hand found your hair and gently worked out any knots that had formed from when she grabbed you harshly. You melted into her touch, your forehead resting against her clothed stomach, though you took note of the fact that she was no longer wearing her business professional blouse, but rather an old t-shirt from her college years.

“Take a sip for me, baby love.” Natasha coaxed gently, unscrewing the lid on your own bottle of water and holding it up to your lips expectantly. You drank it up greedily, finishing half the bottle before she pulled it away and set it down on the nightstand. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl. Are you going to safeword when you need to next time?” She asked softly, needing to hear your answer for her own peace of mind. The fog in your head had cleared up slightly, and you nodded apologetically.

“It was a bad day.” You whispered softly, knowing that it was no excuse but wanting to give her some context. “I forgot I had an exam in logistics, so when I showed up to class I was completely blindsided. Came here straight after ‘cause I just wanted you and I thought I was okay, then when I thought that I had interrupted something important I just got overwhelmed and didn’t wanna… I don’t even know. Didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. M’sorry. Won't happen again.” You rambled out your apology, pleading with her to understand and forgive you, even though you knew that she already had.

“It makes me feel bad when you don’t safeword, but it’s forgiven. All is forgiven, malen’kiy.” Natasha promised, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose that was still pink from the flush of your orgasm. Unlike the last time she’d rewarded you with the action, you giggled in response and leaned in closer silently begging her to do it again.

“Are you gonna mouth off to Wanda again?” Natasha teased, her fingers digging into your ribcage as you sat perched on the edge of the bed and looked up at her with wide innocent eyes.

Despite your sore ass and thighs, you shrugged, a mischievous glint in your eyes that no amount of punishment could completely get rid of. “Probably.” You giggled, though there was something undeniably different about your feelings toward the lawyer now. You were too exhausted to figure out what had changed though, and so you left it to be a problem for another day.

Wanda, thoroughly amused with your shameless answer, gently chuckled a pillow in your direction and narrowed her eyes when you turned around to look at her. “Oi, little one. This is still my bed you’re getting all cozy in.”

You merely laughed, falling forward into Natasha’s arms, entirely content with spending the rest of your day wrapped up in her.

[xbellaxcarolinax]

pls do virgin miguel o'hara w/ a huge cock and fucks both of u dumb 🥹

I hope this is what you meant, babe. Miguel might be ooc, idk, anyway, here ya go:

NSFW below the cut, minors DNI.

Nothing could have ever prepared you for this.

He's big—massive even. The head’s swollen, precome beading at the very tip. All that from a heavy makeout session.

You stared, almost fascinated, stunned into silence.

"...is it okay?" Miguel grunted, watching you carefully with nervous eyes. He was sitting rather uncomfortably at the edge of your bed, legs spread apart and briefs pooled around his ankles.

"Uhh…yeah," you sank to your knees in front of him, "just never seen one so...big." Miguel grew increasingly flustered at your words, even more so when you gripped him firmly in your hand, squeezing ever so slightly. His cock looked ridiculous in your small hands but that only fueled you to take up the challenge. You knew it'd hurt so good.

You bit your lip before devouring him, taking as much of him as you could. He choked, hand flying to grip your hair, and you were certain he’d take the lead and move you over his cock at the speed he desired, but he didn’t. His fingers were gentle, almost hesitant as he buried them within the strands.

It was your first time tasting him. You got lost in it, slobbering over the tip and down his shaft with the intention of taking him whole but he pushed you away, causing you to release him with a pop.

“Fuck, cariño,” Miguel panted, shaking his head, his dark hair damp with sweat, “I can’t—you can’t—it’s too much, I won’t last.”

You looked up at him with a teary gaze, wanting to make eye contact but he refused, content with turning his head to the side to look at the wall.

“Mig?” He ignored you, jaw clenched and nose flared as he fisted the sheets under him.

“Miguel,” you tried again, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you stood. He ignored you still and you grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your eyes, “what’s wrong?” You smoothed his hair away from his brow, hoping the action would soothe him. His eyes were lidded but he looked at you, brows arched.

“What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed.

"I don't know what I'm doing." He muttered, shutting his eyes as soon as the words left his lips.

"What do you mean?" You questioned, pressing your lips to his forehead in a chaste kiss, "you’re supposed to sit and enjoy.”

“That’s not what I mean,” he sounded frustrated, his large hands falling to your hips, gripping you tightly, “I’ve…never done any of this before.” You paused, processing his words while stroking your thumbs over his high cheekbones. 

He’s never done this before? Had no one ever sucked his cock?

Did he mean…?

Oh. OH.

“You mean you’re a…?”

“Virgin. Yeah.” He finally said, dropping his into the plushness of your breasts. 

The last thing you assumed was that Miguel O’Hara was a virgin. The man was the very definition of confidence. You’ve seen how women acted around him. It never crossed your mind that he lacked any sexual encounters. But now it made sense. You’ve been dating Miguel for a few weeks and within those few weeks, you did nothing more than kiss like the world demanded it from you. That was fine; he was an excellent kisser.

Anytime it seemed like something more would come from the kissing, he’d stop, nipping it in the bud, saying he had work in the morning. He was a busy man and, well, that was that. You thought he never had much time for anything else.

But you understood now.

“Ahh Mig, nothing to be embarrassed about,” you said sweetly, brushing the tip of your nose with his, “we can stop if you want—”

“No!” He roared, bringing you down to his lap. You could feel his erection, hot and wet with your spit, pressing hard against your clothed core. You gasped, letting your hands fall to his shoulders as he buried his face into your neck, “Don’t wanna stop. Wanna feel you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, eyes fluttering as he nibbled your skin, “a-are you sure? If you’re not ready then—”

“I’m ready,” He growled, pressing his brow against yours, “just thought you should know, cariño. Don’t want to disappoint you.”

You rode him for what felt like hours, his giant cock slamming into where you needed him the most. You ached from the stretch of him, your cunt swollen and raw, gushing all over his length. He was a moaning mess, biting every surface of you he could: your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, your breasts. He was insatiable, cumming within minutes of your pussy swallowing his cock. Refractory period non-existent. He’d go again and again and again till he painted you completely with his spend and you were too fucked out to speak.

Nope. He didn’t disappoint. Not even a little.

[bitterkarella]

Midnight Pals: Patience

Thomas Disch: neil in the good omens game, is there a way to escape the dungeon without using the wizard's key? Neil Gaiman: ah! a very good question! Clive Barker: what? that's a terrible question Gaiman: ah but there are NO bad questions, clive Gaiman: curiosity is the rain that waters the seed of knowledge

Debbie Dadey: um excuse me sir neil gaiman but in Good Omens S2E42 aziraphale is shown performing the musubi dachi stance, but everyone knows that angels don't know karate Dadey:[pushing glasses up nose] i sure hope someone was fired for THAT blunder Gaiman: ah! a fine observation, thank you for sharing! Gaiman: so great to communicate with astute readers!

Gaiman: [putting gold star sticker on Dadey's forehead] i'm giving you a gold star for that Gaiman: in fact Gaiman: you all get gold stars! Koontz: oo! i want a gold star Gaiman: [putting gold star sticker on Koontz's forehead] and so you shall!

King: incredible! nothing flusters him! Poe: he's unflappable King: like the world's most patient kindergarten teacher Barker: no way, i don't buy it Barker: nobody's THAT patient Barker: i bet i could get him to snap Poe: clive

Barker: hey neil i've got a question Gaiman: yes? Barker: actually Barker:this is more of a comment than a question Gaiman: [sweating, veins in neck pulsing] ah yes, go on Poe: clive that's going too far

Neil Gaiman: you see dean Gaiman: you can see anything, do anything Gaiman: BE anything Gaiman: without ever leaving home! Dean Koontz: wowwww Gaiman: all you have to do is use your super power Koontz: my super power?? Gaiman: yes Gaiman: it's called Gaiman: IMAGINATION!!

Ray Bradbury: it was many years yonder when the open spaces were open and the blue skies were blue, and soda pop cost just a nickel and if you didn't have a nickel a smile would do, when you could see marshmallow dragons and candy corn castles in the clouds and you could do it all with the power of Dean Koontz: oh yeah imagination, i already know that Bradbury: and- what Koontz: yeah, neil gaiman told me Bradbury:

Ray Bradbury: listen neil i hear you've been going around extolling the power of imagination Neil Gaiman: ah imagination! the poor man's wealth, the prisoner's release- Bradbury: zip it bud Bradbury: there's ONE dream weaver in this town and that's me Bradbury: the limitless vista of a child's imagination ain't big enough for the both of us!!!

Bradbury: i have more child-like whimsy in my little finger, gaiman! Bradbury: and i will use it to paint a rainbow of nostalgic vibes that will have you crying! Bradbury: come at me, neil!! i'll make your childhood fuckin' magical!

Gaiman: wonderful, brilliant! just an excellent threat Gaiman: the craftsmanship of it was sublime, you should be very proud, ray Bradbury: Bradbury: are you Bradbury: are you being sarcastic? Poe: i don't think he knows how

Bradbury: you're so genuine, i can't stay mad at you Gaiman: perhaps, ray, there is room in the world of imagination for the both of us Gaiman: in fact, maybe there's room for ALL who seek to fly on the wings of a shared dream!

[dropsnectar]

Fawning Rose: Vine Monster x GN!Reader

The Adventures of an Elven Herbalist Part One

NSFW or NSFT

This is my first time writing anything in 6 years so keep that in mind. Also my first smut fic. Or monster fic. I literally learned about the sexual parts of plants for this fic. Don't know how I got here but this was fun! btw if you don't like oviposition, I marked the parts with three !!! before and after that scene, so you can skip it if you want.

WORD COUNT: 3167, or 7 pages on Docs

It had been a long journey from your home country, having to cross an entire sea to get to the sleepy elven town of Hairevick. An Herbalist, you could craft pills to treat a human flu, create a poultice for a dwarves sore, work-tired limbs; even brew potions to help a beastmen ease out of a mating season-- but it was still lonely. Their were no elves about, except for the rogue eccentric nomad. 

Feeling as you had fully mastered your craft in that area, and curious about your kind, you set forth in hopes of bettering yourself. However, when introducing yourself to your neighbors, you found everyone to be polite, but detached. As far as elves went, you were quite young, and the people of Hairevick were elder and not so trusting of outsiders. But worse of all, everyone here seemed to have an excellent knowledge of the local flora and fauna, and their uses in maintaining health. There was no need for an herbalist, especially one so unfamiliar with their lands. 

You spent the entire week mourning your state over glasses and pints of botanical alcohol-- The local tavern drinks were amazing!-- until you finally met a sympathetic face. 

He had long silver hair and the wisp of a ginger beard around his sharp jaw; a peculiar trait. He greeted you friendly enough, asking how you were settling in. It turned out that he owned a store in town, selling odds and ends. He even had a little apothecary in the corner, where those who couldn’t be bothered to make a forest run would buy herbs and tinctures. 

Starved for companionship, you bombarded him with questions about clients, and local herbalism. He was jovial, and after quite a few dregs of honey yarrow grog, offered you a book on the local flora. After some midnight bonding over stories of patients, he gave you a proposition. 

He was having some issues procuring some materials from a special plant, a Fawning Rose. It had incredible healing properties, but a bad habit of uprooting itself and fleeing from anyone who wasn’t a youth. If you could lure it out and bring back anything, be it petals, roots, greens, he would pay you handsomely. Maybe even give you some lessons on how to work with local plant life.

It was for this reason that you found yourself two days into a trip to the heart of the Haire Wilds bordering town. It was not going well. 

***

The cool air caressed your skin as you entered the grove. You had caught a peculiar sweet smell, somehow floral and buttery at the same time, and had followed it with hope filling your heart. The scent had gotten so thick you could taste it, strong as a tea on your tongue. Blue wildflowers covered the ground, interrupted by the common tree route or vine. 

Your eyes followed the vines or small roots, colored a sage with a speckled gradient to midnight blue. They traveled up into the middle of the grove. Sunlight, so rare this far into the Wilds, fell down in large delicious specks from the trees. They refracted off a large flower, almost two yards in width. Its petals were raspberry pink, turning blood red in the middle. Vines from its base led upwards and rested on the low boughs of the nearest trees, framing the flower and its various young buds like some sort of ethereal art study. 

You grew excited, feet tripping over roots as you ran forward, losing a shoe. You lost balance again and landed face first into the crook of a particularly large vine and hit your head. Hard. 

Hot pain crashed through you, making you curse as you steadied yourself. You tried to get up but the heat struck your temple like lightning as you moved upwards. Alright. Best to stay down then. 

As you waited, you were able to see past the stars in your eyes and notice a slight powdery substance on the vines. It, too, was pink. 

Maybe it was the thrill of finally finding the damn thing, or the head injury, but you felt different. You could hear your heart pumping hard in your chest, pleasantly tight. Your breath was ragged, the air pushing a hard, chilling heat through you. 

Like a particularly good run, your mind registered. A high. 

Your limbs started to tingle at the tips.

The rose’s perfume felt more like a mist now. You were only a few feet away from the base flower, and the scent had turned heady. Your hunger from a missed meal seemed to be surfacing, goaded on by the delectable smell the plant was giving off. While the pain eased and the stars disappeared from your eyes, you noticed that the lightheaded fuzzy feeling stayed.

Uh oh. Not a concussion.

You had to work hard to bring the fear into your mind. There was very little anyone could do to help you out here. The best you could do was not move around too much, and hoped the Fawning Rose would cooperate.

Suddenly, you notice some movement from the roots under your palms. 

No no no not now! Please, I haven’t harvested you yet! You thought as you tried to scramble up. 

The roots moved upwards with you, shoving you onto your side. Sliding around your feet, one took your other shoe with it as it slithered about under you. Another seemed to upend itself and squeeze cooly between your toes. You jumped a bit, but your gaze and mind were slow.

Something thick gilded itself on your shoulder making you look up. Vines, three, four, five of them descended and started rubbing themselves against you like cats. The movement was kicking up clouds of the pink pollen, making you sneeze as you wiggled against the plants outer limbs.

A part of you was horrified, thinking that perhaps you had scared the thing off. After all, you had been warned that this type of rose was particularly skittish. But the plant did not seem to be gathering itself to run away, rather it was pulling you closer to itself, the dragging tearing at the underside of your clothes.

Try as you might, you couldn't seem to think. Foggy, fuzzy, your mind was like cotton. The tingling in your fingertips has spread through your body, and an embarrassed part of your brain noticed your lower body was starting to awaken too. A warmth was beginning to pool in your gut, slow and lazy. Tingly. Fuzzy, like your head.

The vines continue to rub against your body, tearing the rest of your clothes away until only skin remains. They were relentless, cool against your hot skin. Their outer layers were textured but still smooth; a foreign sensation but extremely exciting. It felt almost like something was licking you, the powder giving a wet feel as it spread itself all over. Liquid heat glazed the innermost parts of you, much to your embarrassment. 

Aphrodisiac. You finally registered. You started to curse out that damned store keeper. 

You’d been played. 

You were now at the base of the flower, with even more roots and vines cradling and moving over your body. You were… pushed? Pulled? A foot into the air, close enough so that some of the smaller buds were leaning over you, as if they were getting a good look at you. You felt a knowing, a presence from this plant now. It really was looking at you.

Some desperate part of your mind, far far back in your mind, tries to set off danger bells. That you needed to get up and run.

Ooze started to secrete from the smaller buds, and the already overpowering scent of floral butteriness seemed to multiply. It dripped out onto your belly, warm and tingling, then your chest, your inner thigh, even a bit on your cheek.

The syrup dribbled down into the planes of your mouth as you wriggled under the vines. A particularly mischievous one pushes through the plush cheeks of your ass and moves up, poking at your entrance, causing you to gasp. 

The liquid touches your tongue. It tastes just as it smells, deliriously delicious. Sweet. Hot. It was divine compared to the little rations you’ve been eating the last few days. Like youd been starving and had sudden.ly been given free reign of a pastry shoppe. But no pastry could top this silky butteriness

What little heat that had kindled inside you was now a roaring flame, putting your past arousal to shame. You groan, and pull your head up, sticking your tongue out for more. A part of you is screaming to stop and run, but it is a stupid part that is buried instantly under your sudden overwhelming need. You are desperately horny, and you deserve to feel good after all the trouble you've been through lately.  

Still sticking out your tongue, you start to moan even louder as the vine messages your entrance with its thick girth. At the same time, one of the buds above your face seems to notice your desperation, and leans down to your lips.You lick at its plush petals and sweet sweet nectar seeps into your mouth. It tastes much like a floral pastry and you suck greedily as it pushes itself deeper in. 

The petals are so soft, yet still firm in your mouth as a river of nectar floods your throat. You giggled around it as it started to take its full effect. You felt light as air, so good. 

The vines had moved over to allow a bud to circle itself around your most sensitive part. You gasped out as it started to suck you, making stars flood your already glistening eyes. Your wet lashes fluttered as it began to suck wave after wave of pleasure out of your body.You had never felt so good, you noted somewhere in your sex drunk mind.  The whole time, the bud leaked nectar, completely soaking all parts of your groin.

The nectar left your skin feeling sensitive,  and completely soaked. This seemed to please the vines, which continued to massage the oil about you, then finally push in. You cried out at the sensation. Drool started to pool out of your mouth, mixing with the nectar.

 The vines rubbed lazy curving lines around your walls, making your hips jerk and shake. They seemed to know what they were doing as they started out slow for a time, then sped up their pace, thrashing about inside you. You clench around them, overwhelmed by the unyielding sensation. The pooling heat in you was building high, and you could tell the walls were about to break.

A rogue, mischievous bud had decided to examine your hole, tracing around your entrance in lazy circles. The petals were so soft, softer than skin. The texture made you feel desperate. As if to read your mind, the bud stopped. It must have been blooming because you felt little feelers, probably stamans, tracing about your genitals, wet with its lovely, delicious pollen.

 You swore and whined and pleaded for more as the vines fucked you through it, voice garbled by nectar. Another, thicker vine veined in indigo added itself to its companions and you finally came. The rush was like being tossed in the ocean, a shock that completely enveloped your entire body in cold, pulsing ecstasy. Eyes rolling into the back of your head, your juices spilled down on the forest floor below. 

The echoes of the waves of pleasure were still rocking through you when the vines surrounded your body started to move you upwards again. The vines were slow and delicate as they handled you, as if you were precious cargo. You were brought upwards, almost as if they were about to set you on your feet. Your neck was out, as you were still suckling the addicting flower liquid. 

You noticed through your long damp hair that you were positioned just over the center of the Fawning Roses main flower. A drop of nectar slipped out from inside you and dribbled down and onto the flower's green pistil. The stigma was thick, with four fat lumps at the top. The stamen surrounding it swayed, almost as if there was a breeze. Their magenta anthers rained down more pollen, causing a beautiful gradient against the deep red at the middle of the large petals. It was a truly breathtaking sight. 

A single vine wiggled towards your face and pushed back your hair. You found the gesture almost sweet, leaning into its touch. You remained like that for a time, before the vines started to lower you on to the stigma. 

No no no, you tried to whisper, some understanding dawning; but the bud was being aggressive with its feeding, pushing further in your mouth. It had a job, and its job was to make you so desperately horny and stupid, you’d let this flower breed you. 

The stigma was a hard fit at first. Its lumpy texture felt so good rubbing against you, you couldn’t help but hump back into it. The vines around you squeezing your skin, tilting your hips this way in that, trying to make the fit. The surrounding stamen started to rub their anthers against you, two started focusing on your nipples. You continued to hump the stigma, smearing the nectars from your groin all over it. Then, finally, finally, You were able to squeeze it in. 

The vines had taken over the humping for you now, pushing you down harder and harder onto the pistil. The lumps dragged against your walls in such a beautiful way, that you screamed out babbling whines. Your skin was covered in nectar and bright pink pollen. Every part of you was being squeezed, rubbed, oozed upon with tingling liquid, that you weren’t even sure you had a body anymore, just pleasure. After you came for the fourth time, you started to feel a pulsing within the pistil.  It was like the thing seemed to grow within you.

! ! !

Ridges started to squeeze against your entrance, rubbing against your walls. They moved up, up, up, into the deepest parts of you. There was a sudden burst of warmth, then something small and squishy. You marveled at the texture, as the flower continued to lower you down on the pistil, now at a slower pace, in smaller movements. You ached so badly, but the new sensation of the objects and warmth inside you made you wanna keen louder. They felt sort of like eggs.

Seedpods. You registered lazily. You were being turned into a seedbed. 

This realization only seemed to turn you on even more. They felt so good, rolling about inside your walls. The warmth they brought rivaled the cool temperature of the pistil, a delightful duality. 

You moaned with every bulge, push, then pop of warmth and heaviness. It was getting to the point now where the vines were pulling you up off the pistil to make more room for the seeds. 

! ! !

You were cumming so much now you lost count. It was getting to the point that you were just continuously orgasming, as the seeds and the pistil dragged against your most sensitive parts. 

You may have been like that for hours, days even, the nectar kept you so dizzy you couldn’t tell time. But at some point you were so full that the pistil seemed satisfied. The wriggling stamen around you stilled, and the vines carefully lifted you off the pistil, giving one last drag within your walls.

The bloom inside your mouth slowly dragged itself out, making you whine in protest. The vines carefully laid you down at the foot of their roots, arranging your body in a comfortable position. The vines slowly retreated from your body. They lazily moved about, sometimes knocking into each other in a way that was almost comical. Their movements seemed lazy, almost like it too was spent. 

As the last vine left your skin, it caressed your cheek. Within you some affection of your own seemed to bloom. The haze that was in your mind was starting to dull, and replaced itself with the need to rest. Your heavy eyes closed and you gave into sleep.

***

You awoke without opening your eyes. You could feel that the curving mound of roots you’d been sleeping on had been replaced with fluffy grass and soil. The smell of freshly tilled earth flooded your nose, and you jolted upright, eyes wide.

The grove was quiet, and empty of the Fawning Rose. All that was left behind was you, the upturned soil it had left behind, and light dusting of pink pollen on the trees. Even the sweet pastry-like smell had left the grove.

You looked down at your naked, sore body and groaned. You could see a trail of bruises from where the vines had gripped you, along with dried out nectar and tons of pink pollen. Your stomach puffed out a bit more than normal, meaning all of this had NOT been a dream. Much to your surprise, nothing hurt though. Your body felt great, healthily spent like you had just run a marathon. Considering how hard you had been working there should have been some pain, but there wasn’t. Just the pleasant pressure of the seedpods against your insides.You recall the conversation with the shop owner at the tavern. Looks like this is the flower's healing abilities at work.

You continued to search around the grove. Your clothes were still in shreds on the forest floor, but your bag was safely tucked under one of the trees the flower had rested its vines in. With some effort, you managed to get yourself off the ground to pick it up, waddling the whole way. 

The pollen was still working its magic on you, but you guessed you had been exposed to it long enough to build a slight tolerance. Or maybe the growing rage within you was doing the trick. You pulled out one of the many glass bottles, and a silver knife. You went to work, scraping the dried nectar and pollen off your body, into the jars.

I’m gonna charge that asshole so much money, his kids will be poor. You seethed as you spent hours getting your money's worth off of every plane of your body. You’d have to birth those seed pods later too. Your insides grew warm at the thought. 

You tried not to think about how you were going to have to walk home naked, where you’d been and what you’d been doing laid bare upon your skin. It’d be free advertising tho, you tried to reason. 

You'd make a killing. Aphrodisiacs were rare, and extremely expensive, especially to a crowd of immortals. I think I'll sell these seed pods on my own though. You smiled. 

You’d make sure to be properly prepared the next time you went into the wilds.

Might do a part two, maybe with slimes next time? Also sorry about any switching of tenses, I have a hard time with that! Hope you guys enjoyed!

[4th-make-quail]

IWTV Fic Recs - Old Man Daniel Focused

I've been meaning to put together a list somewhere for this, and since I just sent a bunch to someone, here it is finally! it's a mix of Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis, Armand/Daniel/Louis in various configurations - please enjoy!

if you read and enjoy these fics, please make sure to leave a comment for the authors on ao3!

Daniel/Louis

Conflict of Interest, by hereticas - T, 2000 words

Louis comes by Daniel's room the morning after they recover their memories of San Francisco.

Very very cute kissing post s02e05 fic!

Daniel/Louis, Daniel/Louis/Armand, Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis (combo of all)

it seemed the thing to do (what made me think I could start clean slated?), by fastcarmp3 - E, 3900 words, WIP

Louis asked Daniel if he wanted to… now. It wasn’t an empty offer.

Danlou with Armand watching which is SMOKING HOT

Terza Rima, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1700 words

Daniel finally gets what he came to Dubai for, but the aftermath brings even more questions.

INCREDIBLY hot threesome with stellar character voices, bit of Armand Voyeurism (THE GOOD SHITE), bit of Daniel being a slut for being bitten

That's It, Mr. Molloy, by anonymous - E, 4900 words

Daniel finds himself distracted, during the interview. Rashid comes to help, and invites Louis along, too. He snaps his gaze away, clearing his throat. “So, are we, uh…talking about that? Or…” “Talking?” Rashid cocks his head, amused. “Is that what you would like to do, Mr. Molloy? Talk?” As he speaks, he steps forward, walking Daniel backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Daniel looks back, startled, as though he hadn’t realized he was moving, at all. “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Molloy?” Rashid asks, gesturing.

that old man gets PROPERLY FUCKED!! bit of a Rashid!Armand situation, bit of massage, very very hot

Push it away but it all comes back again, by butchybats - E, 5400 words

“'Let me get this straight. You left me for dead,' Daniel addresses Louis, who very pointedly does not make eye contact with him. This time Daniel turns slightly to face Armand. 'And you saved my life in the most erotic way possible?'” Or: All Daniel wants is to resume the interview like normal after finding out about the supposed "love of Louis' life". Louis and Armand have better plans.

Threesome sex VERY HOT (includes a bit of flashback to 70s era) with a really fucking excellent Daniel Voice!

Armand/Daniel

were the flowers orange?, by andrealyn - T, 6700 words

Years ago, Daniel cut out the love of his life to save himself from choking on tiger eye, daylily, bird of paradise. Now, in Dubai, suddenly the disease returns even though the only thing that's changed is Rashid became Armand. And yet, the flowers tell him something -- whoever he cut out is fighting like hell to be remembered.

Absolutely DEVASTATING hanahaki fic, this shit is really fucking good!!!

the fog eating the night, by tei - E, 3700 words

If Louis had wanted him alive, he'd have escorted him out himself. But he hadn't. He'd left Daniel standing there stunned, and walked out like none of this had mattered to him at all. Whether he meant to or not, Louis had given Daniel to Armand.

Very tasty post s02e08 turning fic! Really damn good Daniel Voice.

At Close of Day, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1700 words

On a frigid Christmas night, Daniel and Armand celebrate being alone together as they explore their budding relationship.

Really hot with human!Daniel! A top Armand who absolutely ADORES him, it's very fucking cute

Only a Name, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1500 words

In Dubai, Daniel is visited in dreams by an opinionated young man--but there's something terribly familiar about him.

More Rashid!Armand fic, very very fucking hot

strange mutations, by leavethebes - E, 11000 words

Armand’s done it to him once before—gored him through the stomach, gutted him like a fish, snipped his gills off, and drained him right down to the fluttering valves of his heart. Left Daniel little more than a shriveled husk of a person, and somehow Daniel is back here anyway, on his knees in front of Armand and begging for the oblivion that was promised.

Post s2 but before Armand turns Daniel, really fun Armand interfering in Daniel's life post-Dubai and another excellent Daniel Voice!

Devouring, by verimeru - Mature, comic

An 11-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand facing his worst nightmare.

OUGH, MY FEELS.....

Daddy, by GreyGiantess & verimeru - Mature, comic

“What's with the face?” Daniel asked. Armand’s eyes widened slightly, which was probably meant to make him look innocent, but it only made The Face worse. “This is just my regular face, Daniel.” “Yeah, right. You’re up to something.” In which VERIMURU and GRAYGIANTESS team up to give you the Armandaniel age difference COMIC you didn't know you needed! Very loosely related to Baby.

VERY cute age difference comic with human Daniel! Appreciated him still having his parkinson's, and their relationship and dynamic is SO cute

whip in my valise, by firstaudrina - E, 3100 words

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Armand said. “Yeah,” Daniel said, the word an aggravated pull. “Well.” Old Man Daniel goes to Night Island.

Very very good, VERY VERY HOT, excellent level of fucked up with some delicious voyeurism also

[jokeringcutio]

Stepdad!William Afton x Reader - Christmas Present (WARNINGS:SMUT)

Warnings: Creampie, taboo, stepdad x reader, secret s*x, Daddy kink, Christmas Dinner, Secret touching, Fingering, Behind your mom's back, Praise kink, dd/lg, Dark William Afton/William Afton is not a nice man, Mutual agreeance & consensual intercourse.

AN: I don't know what I did, but this just came out. Not beta read but I am going to sleep now and I wanted to share this with you all. For quick links and more, see notes below.

The soft glow of Christmas lights bathed the room in a warm, inviting atmosphere. You sat at the table with your mom, stepdad William, stepsister Vanessa, and her new boyfriend Mike. The scent of roasted turkey and homemade stuffing filled the air, while laughter and cheerful conversation echoed around you.

Vanessa and Mike animatedly chatted about their budding relationship, beaming as they recounted their favorite dates and shared aspirations. Their love was palpable, and they seemed eager to impress your mom and William with their connection. It seemed to work, your mom seemed smitten with Mike and William hadn’t said a nasty thing to him all evening – which you considered a win.

"Hey," Vanessa said, turning her attention to you, "when are you going to get a boyfriend?" Your heart clenched, and words failed to form in your throat. She didn't know what had been going on behind closed doors.

"Yes, good question," William chimed in. “Your mom has been dying to get a grandkid or two,” he said, feigning concern.

You nearly spat your drink out and tried to look away. Especially as beneath the tablecloth, you felt his hand snake onto your upper leg, fingers brushing against your skin. It sent shivers down your spine, the ghost of his touch haunting you.

“Dad!” Vanessa cried out.

“Well, it’s true,” William said matter-of-factly, and you could tell from the corner of your eyes that your mother blushed. “I just want to see all my girls happy and settled. So, when will you bring home a nice boy for me to meet?” His voice dripped with insincerity. Bringing home a date was the last thing he was waiting for. He didn’t want to see you date, or risk losing you to anyone else.

The fingers on your legs dug possessively into your skin, a silent warning that you were already claimed.

His.

"Uh, I'm not sure," you finally managed to say, avoiding eye contact. "I've just been busy with work, you know?"

"Sure, but there's always time for love," Mike added, oblivious to the undercurrents at play. He didn’t know what was going on – none of them did. He couldn’t see how your stepdad’s fingers traced up your Christmas over-the-knee stockings until they met bare skin.

"Maybe one day," you murmured, forcing a smile. As the conversation moved on, William's hand remained on your leg, a sinister reminder of the secrets you shared.

It became hard to focus on dinner like that. With his palm hotly upon your flesh. Memories of your stepdad’s mouth on your skin, his possessive grip on your hips, and his whispered promises to keep your liaisons secret washed over you.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on the colorful decorations and warm atmosphere as everyone continued eating, trying to ignore the sick knot forming in your stomach.

God, how could you want a man like him so badly? When you knew it was so wrong?

"Delicious turkey, Mom," you said, attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy. Your mother beamed with pride, but all the while, you felt William's hand inching further up your leg, like a spider crawling toward its prey.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied, oblivious to the tension that was slowly strangling the air around you.

"Great job with the table setting too," Vanessa chimed in, squeezing Mike's hand as they exchanged loving glances.

Yes, great. Excellent, you sardonically thought as your stepdad’s fingertip brushed past the crotch of your panties. A wet spot formed where his fingers brushed past your nub, the now damp material seemingly spurring him on, for his fingers became more insistent. Even going as far as to hook underneath the elastics of your panties at one point to dip a fingertip between your soaked folds. You flinched, knee banging against the underside of the table, and whispered a flustered apology while William dipped his finger a little deeper inside your cunt – as far as he could go from where he was seated really.

You met his heated blue gaze as you looked to your side, saw the way he watched you intently from behind his aviator glasses. He pumped inside of you a few times, just to the second knuckle, and then his finger slid out again.

The now wet digit remained on your naked thigh for the remainder of the meal, only leaving when William had to pass food around. You watched with fascination as the criminal digit stroked past one of the bowls, how his fingertip glistened with your juices and accidentally tapped against some of the lettuce inside.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you picked at your food, each bite feeling heavier than the last. Your core was like a fuzzy ball full of wires that all got tangled. Expecting your stepdad to touch you - and hating the fact that you wished he would.

When dinner finally ended, you excused yourself, claiming exhaustion from work. You escaped to your room, away from your stepsister and her happy relationship, away from your mother and her bright smiles. And most importantly, away from him.

You slipped into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin as if they could protect you from the reality lurking just beyond your bedroom door. Sleep was elusive, your thoughts racing and your heart pounding in your chest.

The creak of the door opening sliced through the darkness like a knife, and your breath caught in your throat as you heard your stepdad’s familiar footsteps approaching. He stood beside your bed, his presence looming over you like a shadowy figure.

"Merry Christmas," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "I came to deliver your present."

He wouldn’t even flick on the light, but you could see him illuminated by the glow of the streetlamps through the window. He was already naked, a bow wrapped around the base of his already erect cock. He held it in his right hand, stroking himself and brushing his thumb past the head, the slit already weeping pre-cum that glistened like white pearls in the dark. "I've been waiting for you all through dinner." He stepped closer until you felt the bed dip with his weight, resting a knee next to you on the mattress. You could feel his breath on your skin, hot and tantalizing.

"Are you ready for your present?" he asked, the gravelly tone of his voice making your stomach flutter.

You swallowed hard, unable to speak, but your body betrayed you, nodding in submission. The tension in the room was palpable, both of you knowing what was about to happen. You wore a nightgown with nothing underneath. As always. Easy access for Dad. Like Daddy’s good girl.

His hands found yours, gently guiding them to the ribbon around his shaft. Your fingers trembled, but followed his lead, slipping beneath the fabric to pull it off. Your fingertips gently stroked past his fevered skin, feeling the ridges and the veins and how his member throbbed at the slightest touch.

"Beautiful," he murmured, eyes raking over your flushed form before he pushed you down on the bed again.

He wasted no time, reaching out to touch you, fingers tracing delicate patterns across your sensitive flesh. You gasped, hips arching involuntarily as pleasure bloomed within you. The suddenness of it all was overwhelming, your mind racing with thoughts of guilt and desire. Your nipples peeked underneath your nightgown, his blue eyes drawn toward them. He lifted your gown to reveal your stomach and breasts, wasting no time in tasting your skin with his lips and his tongue.

You writhed underneath him in pleasure while his erection bobbed against your hip. The wish to just put it in there grew stronger and stronger with each flick of the tongue and each nibble of teeth.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped your lips as he kept your arms pinned down, hovering over you like a predator eating its prey. His lips moved lower, just when it became too much, and then his tongue flicked past your stomach to your core.

A yelp escaped you, and wetness gushed forth between your folds, making your core glisten in the light of the lamps from outdoors.

"Quiet,” he whispered, leaning down to press a heated kiss to your inner thigh. "Your mother might be waiting for me in our room right now. You don’t want her to find us like this, do you?"

It took effort to shake your head and mutter a faint no, because he was driving you wild. Your core pulsed with slick, too empty and aching to be filled. You were drowning in sensation, sinking deeper into the abyss of forbidden lust.

"Please," you whimpered, no longer able to distinguish between want and need.

"Shh, you want to be Daddy’s sweet girl, right?" He cooed, pressing his lips to your trembling ones. "I'm going to make you feel so good."

And so he did. His hands roamed, his mouth tasted, and your body responded with an urgency you had never known. The world outside ceased to exist, replaced by the symphony of your ragged breaths and whispered moans.

"William," you gasped, as he finally positioned his hard cock at your entrance. You placed your hands on his broad shoulders, fingers digging into his sweaty skin. “Daddy, please,” you begged him. “I wanna be your good girl. Fill me up, please, Daddy. I wanna be good for you.”

And with a grin that made his teeth glisten in the dark, he entered you, filling you completely. His thick cock spread your pulsing walls wide, pussy fluttering helplessly around his size as he bottomed out. His balls slapped against your skin as he moved out and then in again, nudging his cockhead deep inside your core and making you see stars.

It was such a delight. How you had missed feeling him inside of you like this. To be filled so completely by this man that your mother called her lover.

If only she knew.

William filled you completely, satisfying a primal need you wished you had never known as it became an addiction. It was a sensation that both terrified and exhilarated you.

"Say my name again," he demanded, eyes locked onto yours. "Let me hear it."

"Daddy," you repeated, more firmly this time, feeling a surge of power as he shuddered above you.

The love you made was sweet and tender, yet laced with a darkness that could not be denied. Whispers of ‘my sweet girl’ and ‘Daddy’s good girl’ were accompanied by a pull of your hair or a thrust so rough it made your teeth chatter. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge of ecstasy. And when you finally tumbled over, it was as if the world had shattered around you, leaving only fragments of pleasure and pain. Your walls fluttered around his cock, forcing him over the brink with you. A loud groan filled your ear and revibrated through your entire body.

As you lay there, panting and spent, your stepdad slowly moved up on his elbows and reached for something on your nightstand. The light blinked on and you had to close your eyes because of the brightness, bringing an arm up to your head.

His warm body withdrew from yours with a slick squelch. And then you felt his strong large hands as he pushed your legs open wide. You slowly recognized he reached for his phone, capturing the aftermath of your union. The sight of white globs of sperm leaking from between your legs seemed to bring him immense satisfaction, and he held the camera up close to capture it. The way your pussy pulsed in the aftermath, the way his seed was slowly pushed out and then sucked back in again by your body - a wicked smile graced his features as he recorded it all.

Then, once he was satisfied, he put the phone aside.

"Best Christmas present ever," he declared, his voice heavy with pride and possession.

You smiled up at him, cheeks flustered and eyes tired. You slowly pulled your nightgown back down, covering the fresh hickeys, love bites and bruises your stepdad just gave you.

“Thank you, Daddy,” you said, heart swelling with satisfaction when William’s blue eyes twinkled at your words.

“Good girl,” he said again.

You watched as he slowly raised himself from the bed and bent forward to seek for the Christmas ribbon. Once he found it, he pumped his cock in his fist a few times until it started to become erect again.

“Help me with this, will you?” he asked, holding out the ribbon for you to take. You sat up on the bed on your knees to help him, feeling how even more of his sperm seemed to leave your soaking-wet core. You bit your lip as you tied the ribbon around the base of his cock once more, creating a lovely bow, then carefully glanced up at him.

William caught your look and groaned. “Oh, honey, don’t look at me with puppy eyes like that. Makes me just want to ravish you again.”

He bent over to capture your lips in his own, cock still in his hand, pumping himself a few more times. When he broke the kiss and leaned back you could see how his cock was now back on the way to be fully erect again, and you bit your lip in desire.

“Much as I want to fill you up a second time, I got to tend to your mom first. Promised her a Christmas present as well.”

He must have seen the way your face fell – no one wanted to be reminded of their lover having sex with someone else, especially when they were family. But you had known something like this would happen. He was your mom’s husband after all. Not yours.

A gentle brush of his thumb past your lip and your gaze softened.

“What will you tell her about the wetness?” you asked, shyly gesturing at his cock which was still coated in your mixed juices.

William’s smile turned into a devious smirk. “I’ll just tell her I lubed up,” and then his hand ruffled through your hair. “Don’t worry, baby. Your still Daddy’s favorite girl.”

He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. The gesture should have been comforting, but it only served to remind you of the twisted reality you now found yourself in. You watched as your stepdad left the room and then cuddled underneath the blankets again. A smile slid on your lips and you closed your eyes.

Your stepdad knew how to give the best presents for Christmas ever. ~ AN: Merry Whatever you Celebrate.🥳 If you like this kind of filth, I have a lot more of Stepdad!Afton x Reader and more coming up. I also write for other interesting bad men such as slasher characters. If you are feeling generous - as it is the season of giving - you can always leave me a little thank you on my Ko-Fi  (: I'll post some quick links below to other works. My prompt box is still open, but I will be heading into the hospital at the end of December and depending on my treatment, I might have to close it in the near future. But I'll keep you up to date :) Quick links: ~~ Masterlist - Request Box -  Support me on Ko-Fi ~~

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Last hope (part 3)

Characters:yandere Leon S Kennedy (older version) x reader

Disclaimer: This fanfic contains dark-themed topics, such as kidnapping, depression, suicidal thoughts, non-consent, unwanted pregnancy,etc

Warning: yandere Leon Kennedy, kidnapping, non-consent, depressed reader, manipulation, Stockholm syndrome, unwanted pregnancy, emotional & mental abuse, out of character leon etc

@vg-k for the divider, thank you :)

The pictures used does not belong to me!!!

Chapters: pt1 pt2

For the past few days, you have been trying to get under Leon's skin back and forth. Asking him questions that either makes him furrowed his brows or blush.

While you were trying to get closer to your kidnapper, Leon saw an opportunity to make you his forever. You would only be his, and he would be the only thing that you found sense in.

Not only one dream he would gain from his excellent plan but three things. A baby, a complete family, and your love. Leon grinned to himself as his dove started massaging his big shoulders.

Even for a person who does a lot of physical work, Leon's body ached and tensed most of the time. His Dove's hands massaging him made him less tense and almost too easy.

His pants felt tight as he imagined your delicate hands on his cock. "My little girl... Do you know what you're doing to daddy?" Leon breathed out as he grabbed your hands.

He kissed your hands while whispering loving words. "You know daddy loves you so much, right? Baby? Daddy loves you more than anyone. I will protect you. From all those... only, only, if you love me back" he whimpered out while sucking your fingers one by one.

"Daddy... what are you doing?" You choked out as your cunt started pulsing from his doing.

Leon closed his eyes for a moment and zoned out from the world. It was now only you and him. He will ask you to start a family with him. Everytime he went out and saw a happy couple with their children, hanging round the park, so happy, it always broke his heart, string by string.

Now he finally found someone he loved, he was ready to start a family. He was ready since the day he turned 21, but life decided Leon didn't deserve someone good.

"But guess what? I won. I have everything I ever wanted now" Leon thought to himself as he slowly switched from your finger to your nipple.

During the time you stayed with Leon, you learned he had a lactation kink. Even though he never admitted he had one, you knew it from the way the older man always, always sucks your nipples before sex, closing his eyes and going down for it.

"L-Leon..." you squeaked, trying to move away from his mouth, causing him to almost growl.

"Don't you dare. Don't you dare run away from me." Leon barked, his mouth still attached to your bud, smacking your face.

You gently stroke your cheek where he had slapped you, it wasn't hard but you knew if you got him mad, he is more capable of doing more than just slapping.

After a few minutes, Leon came back to life and brought his hand sneakily inside your shorts. Rubbing in slow, torturing pace while you moaned like a bitch in heat.

"Leo-Da-Daddy..." you whined, grabbing his blind lock as his speed increased. It all came loose when he bit down your nipple. Leon groaned in response and pulled his fingers away.

"We're gonna have a family. You're going to be a good little mommy. And guess what? We're going to make it happen today. Right now" Leon smirked, pulling his pants down.

You came back from your high, aching for his touch, not even realizing you were forgetting who you are and what you planned.

"Please... please daddy" you whined, trying to take off his shirt in hurry. Leon's smirk grew wilder, seeing you finally becoming a good wife he always wanted.

"Good girl. On your fours" he commanded after you threw his shirt on the floor. You crawled on your fours on the bed, arching your back, trying to emphasize your ass to him more.

Leon sniffed your clothed cunt.

"Fuck angel. You smell so sweet. Gotta make sure to breed this sweet pussy" he groaned as he dived in your cunt. You could feel his nose occasionally sniffing your cunt and groaning to himself, and biting on your pussy lips.

After a few moments of teasing the both of you, he pulled your shorts down harshly before making sure your legs were free.

He slapped your ass cheek and grabbed the meat.

"Look at this ass. You were hiding these girls from everyone. Everyone should look at them." The blonde said, giving you a smack.

"Aww, does it hurt baby?" He cooed before doing the same. After five good smacks, he finally licked your cunt in a long stripe. Your legs shook from the stimulation as Leon kitten licked your clit.

"Leon!" You cried as you tried to lay down. He lifted your hips and smacked you again.

"Get up! No one is going to make a good baby if you keep being lazy. " he pulled you up. Then Leon started to make out with your pussy. Separating the folds with his fingers while his tongue thrusted in and out of you.

"Sweet like molasses," he said before turning your head up and kissing you. As he pulled away, a string of long saliva connected your lips. Not to mention you could taste yourself. It was sweet. Like condensed milk.

Your head was foggy with lust taking over your head. You couldn't even remember why you were with Leon in the first place. Or who he was. Or who you were.

"Daddy. Please. I want it." You whined trying to get to his cock closer by moving your ass in his direction.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want, " Leon grasped out with a low voice. He was gripping your ass cheek so hard it was starting to lose its color.

"I want your babies, Daddy," you whimpered out. Just a week ago, you would have killed yourself with a kitchen knife if you said this shit. But now, it didn't matter. So what? Can't a girl be happy and careless for the first time? You did your role in society. Why can't you have someone to take care of you for once?

Inside the back of your mind, your past self was screaming at you. But in this moment, all that mattered was Leon.

Maybe. Just maybe. Domestic life wouldn't be so bad with him.

You were crying at this point, both from overstimulation and your thoughts. You didn't have anyone in life where you could trust with your secrets, someone you could hope that they will do anything for you, someone who could at least take care of you. Why did Leon have to appear as a kidnapper? An abuser and someone you shouldn't give in. Why couldn't he appear as a nice guy in your life? Normal man with a normal life.

Leon's eyes widened a little, almost unnoticeable if someone who didn't know him saw it, he was surprised you agreed to his dream life so quickly. He expected some resistance, whether it was a tantrum during sex, yelling, crying. But what he didn't expect was you giving up so much easier.

Maybe you wanted to give him children. Maybe you finally made a conclusion Leon was the love of your life, even if you didn't want to admit it.

"Yeah? You want daddy's babies? Daddy will give it to you, baby." Leon smiled, guiding his hard cock in your slit before inserting it in a quick motion. You whined from the sudden stretch, not giving you time to adjust to his cock, Leon started moving at a quick pace.

"Daddy..." you whimpered as Leon changed his pace to a slower one. Giving you the sensation you didn't feel often, so full, so warm, so intimate.

Leon laid on the top of your back, stretching his arms next to your head and started going in again.

"Le-" you started before Leon opened his mouth.

"Who? What did you call me?" He muttered lifting your head by your tangled hair.

"Daddy" you whimpered as he let go of you. Soon a coel in your lower belly began to explode. As your hands clenched his biceps, Leon's left hand sneaked down to rub your clit.

"My poor baby" Leon whispered as your face fell down on the pillow after you cum. You didn't even have the strength to get up, all sweaty and tired from good breeding.

Leon felt his cock twitch inside your pussy, after a few deep pumps he came inside. His cum leaking from your hole, the man collected them with his index and middle finger before pushing it all back and licking his fingers.

"My baby. My sweet baby. Why aren't you eating anything? Daddy made you your favorite. See?" Leon signed, pushing your plate full of waffles and a strawberry shake.

"What did you do to do research papers?" You mumbled, playing with your fork. For the last few hours, you and Leon watched a documentary regarding scientists making new drugs. Even if you didn't want to remember, you were a good doctor. A great even. Your research could have saved millions of people's lives every year, not to mention the success you could have had.

"Why do you ask?" Leon narrowed his eyes, his tone slightly changing to a low grumpy one. He had hoped you forgot about your past life completely, but you didn't.

"The box. It... it's my research project... did you take it... with me?" You mumbled, staring at his blue eyes, searching for the truth.

"No," Leon simply shrugged. "I left it in the driveway."

This somehow made you feel relaxed, if you knew he brought it with me, then you would have wanted to read the papers once more. Now that you knew it was long gone, you could let go of yourself. Time to empty the vase to be filled again by a new identity.

But at the same time you felt empty. The new identity Leon was trying to pour in you was

"Eat baby. It's good for you and our future baby" Leon cooed again, stroking your belly.

"I'm not even pregnant," you snapped. Leon narrowed his eyes at you. You were being so good lately. You just had to ruin both of your happiness. If he lets go of his behavior without doing anything, the blonde was afraid you would go back in process, to the same old you when he first got you.

"But you will be. And we need to be prepared for it. Now eat." he commanded in a harsh tone.

You grabbed the plastic fork aside from the plate and started eating. You didn't understand yourself anymore. You were torn between wanting a peaceful, domestic life with Leon and your successful, prideful career where you could bet with anyone you could do complicated surgeries.

"Can I crochet?" You mumbled to him suddenly when you two were cuddling after sex. For the last few days, Leon and you were hitting it every day. Sometimes, multiple times a day. You knew what he was hoping for. Even though being a housewife seemed not too bad to you now, you knew having kids was not your thing.

You always felt annoyed and red-faced with kids. How were you going to have one of your own? With Leon out of all people?

"Crochet? Why?" Leon raised his eyebrows. He didn't know if it was a good idea to give you a metal hook. You could hurt yourself.

"I'm bored. I have nothing to do in a day, " you mumbled, sleepy.

Leon kissed the top of your head and played with a string before signing.

"I'll bring you the necessities... but you gotta promise me one thing." Leon muttered. "Promise daddy, you will follow my rules."

"Okay... I will, " you squeaked before his hands crept under the blanket to you.

Leon went shopping after work, buying a bunch of colorful cotton yarns along with a wooden hook. He figured if you actually tried to harm yourself or him, wood would be safer than metal.

The cashier girl recommended him to buy some eyes and polyester for plushies, which he bought without hesitating. Leon couldn't wait for you to see them and be excited.

The life Leon hoped for was finally working. Almost no one questioned your disappearance, thanks to your fake friends and family. You were starting to obey him, most importantly, fall for him.

The first night he had intimacy with you was something unpleasant. You cried, screamed, and cursed him. But now, by the way you moaned his name off your tongue and almost voluntarily gave him your cunt, Leon knew or at least hoped you were changing.

You were watching a cooking show on TV, you weren't sure how old this model was, but you could guess it was from the 90s. Small blurb screen with a bulky main body.

Leon didn't like the idea of you watching violent shows as he says. But all of them were normal TV shows people watched and enjoyed. Instead, he figured letting you learn to cook for him was better.

"Angel, I'm home," Leon yelled. Too bad you can't come to him since he always locks three doors to your room.

He smiled seeing you in front of the baby sitting like a good girl, doing exactly what he wanted you to do.

"Look at what I got you, baby. It's a reward for you. You were such a good girl. " He cooed, kissing your head quickly before you tried to pull away. Strangely, you always moved away when he kissed your head. It was almost like you had a sore wound on the top of it. You started digging into the paper bag he brought.

"You got this for me? As you promised?" You mumbled, playing with the soft yarn. It seemed like a great quality.

"Why not? You promised me you'll be a good girl. And you're being a good girl." he patted your head.

"Thanks."

"Thanks what?"

"Thanks, Daddy." You rolled your eyes as he turned away.

"You don't need the guidebook I brought you?" Leon raised a brow while looking at you, making granny squares.

"I was taught at school... I never forget what I learned, " you mumbled while crocheting.

"What are you planning to make with these?" The older man groaned, picking up a few pieces and observing you.

"I don't know... maybe a blanket?"

"A blanket? That's a great idea, baby. You can make that for our baby. It will be perfect. Maybe some darker color if it's a boy and lighter for a girl." Leon knelt down next to you and kissed you.

"I think it's enough for today, love. Don't wanna get my baby girl hurt." Leon said, grabbing the yarn and hook away from you before listing you up on the bed.

"This hobby of yours took enough attention from you. It's time for me now.

[yandere-writer-momo]

Yandere Baki Short Stories: Paparazzi

Yandere Hanayama Kaoru x Idol! Afab Reader

Author’s note: this is a social experiment and a bit different than what I normally write. If it takes off, I’ll write another part to it

Buy me a coffee? 💕

“Cause you know that, baby, I… I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me.”

Slam! Hanayama slammed the door open when he finally made it up to his room. His eyes nervously glanced around to make sure none of his subordinates followed him here.

Once he noticed no one was around, he scurried into his room and quietly shut the door behind him.

Hanayama Kaoru had a secret, the type of secret he’d kill anyone if they found out. Hanayama was a wota and he was obsessed with a pop idol by the name of (your name).

And today, he was able to get Kizaki to buy her latest merch drop… a poster. Hanayama carefully unwrapped the cling wrap off the poster so his eyes could admire the excellent photo of his oshi. She was so pretty…

Hanayama glanced at his bedroom walls that were covered in posters and various collectible merch. He didn’t have any wall space but he hasn’t put any posters on the ceiling so that should work. Honestly, that made it even better.

Hanayama grabbed some tape off his dresser and got to work. The poster now hung on his ceiling so he could admire his idol’s magnificence before he went to sleep and when he woke up. Perfect.

Hanayama flopped onto his bed, his arms clutched the body pillow of (your name) in his arms. He’s had the biggest crush on her since high school…

Hanayama closed his eyes and reminisced the moment he first heard her music when he was younger… it was when one of his classmates loaned him their ear buds and her music played. (Your name) wasn’t very big yet, she just came onto the pop scene. But her voice was what drew him in.

Hanayama rushed home that day and told Kizaki to buy him (your name)‘s CDs. That was the start of his journey of being her biggest fan.

Now Hanayama was twenty five. He tried to have a few relationships but he couldn’t tear away from his idol. Not even when he bedded other women. (Your name) was always on his mind. Hanayama felt like he was being disloyal to her… even though (your name) probably didn’t even know his existence.

Hanayama wanted her more than anything. Despite his stoic exterior, he was full of emotions… but only for his idol and his handful of friends.

Hanayama shot upright in his bed in realization. He almost missed her interview today! Today, they were going to get (your name) to talk about her ideal man and Hanayama could not miss it. And how would he know that? That’s because Hanayama paid this specific interview station to ask his question because he had submitted it for years. He needed to know…

Hanayama turned his tv on, his large body scrunched up into a ball. His arms held the body pillow close to his form for comfort. He was a bit afraid of what she’d say… what if he didn’t meet those standards? Would he be able to move on and live a normal life?

Hanayama silently watched the interview. His eyes sparkled as he watched the young woman smile and wave into the camera, her soft voice soothed him… how could someone be so pretty?

“Despite being a foreigner, you’ve really made a name for yourself, miss (your name)!” The interviewer beamed at the young idol, her smile never left her face.

“I couldn’t have gotten this far without my fans.” Hanayama almost squealed in excitement when she made a little finger heart to the camera. She was so cute! How could someone be so cute?

“Now this is a long awaited question for you, miss (your name).” The interviewer smiled at the young woman. “One your number one fan has been dying to know.”

(Your name) giggled, which made Hanayama’s heart soar. This was it! He would finally have his answer soon…

“And what do they want to know?” (Your name) smiled ever so sweetly, she batted her eyelashes a bit. Hanayama nearly fainted on the spot.

“What is your ideal man, miss (your name)?” The interviewer asked, which made (your name)’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh wow… I don’t think I’ve ever been asked that on such a big platform.” Hanayama blushed at how flustered (your name) was. Gosh his idol was so cute…

(Your name) took in a deep breath. “I like a man who is well dressed and preferably taller than me…” (Your name) smiled sheepishly before she continued, “I think I’d like them to be strong to, I’d like to be carried like a princess.”

Hanayama stopped breathing, his whole body trembled. Well dressed, tall, and strong? That was him… he was her type.

“Carried like a princess?!” The interviewer laughed which only made (your name) more flustered.

“I always dreamed of that… I’d like to be taken care of like a dainty, little doll.”

Hanayama rose up from his bed and pumped his fist in the air. His body filled with excitement. He was her type!

Hanayama would care for her and carry her around everywhere if she asked! Whatever she wanted-

Hanayama turned his head to see Kizaki standing in the door way. His right hand man cleared his throat.

“I’m so sorry to bother… whatever this is, but you have a letter from the venue (your name) is performing at-“ Kizaki sighed when the letter was snatched out of his hand. Hanayama was such a child sometimes… despite him being a grown man now.

Hanayama opened the envelope and smiled at its contents. He had successfully booked the entire VIP section… which would keep his identity a secret.

“I heard you’ll be dropping new merch tonight. What are you going to be dropping today?” The interviewer draw Hanayama’s attention back on the screen. New merch?

“It’s some limited edition photo cards!” (Your name) smiled at the interviewer. “It’s just a few pictures of me and my group.”

Hanayama turned to Kizaki who sighed. Kizaki could tell by Hanayama’s face that he wanted that book.

Kizaki nervously glanced around Hanayama’s room. Where was he even going to put it?

Hanayama continued to stare at Kizaki until the man bowed in defeat. It was time to make a trip to the store.

“Alright… I’ll go get it.” Kizaki then left Hanayama to his own devices. The yakuza boss turned his attention fully back into the tv.

Hanayama reached a finger out to touch (your name)’s face. What he wouldn’t give to finally touch her in real life…

This was going to be the first time he’d be able to see her in person… he was so excited to see her.

He could not wait…

.

.

.

“Here for the latest drop? I saved you a set, specifically just of (your name). ” The store manager asked Kizaki, which made the older man sigh. The manager chuckled. “You’re such a great dad. You’ve been here consistently for over ten years. Your son must be a huge fan!”

More like a huge pain in the- Kizaki shook that thought from his head. Hanayama was a great leader, he was just a bit… odd when it came to this particular woman. Perhaps that was just Hanayama’s generation of being obsessed with celebrities. It hurt Kizaki’s head to think about it.

“He is…” The manager nodded and handed Kizaki the set of photo cards.

“Well he must be grateful to have you! Please enjoy.” Kizaki nodded stiffly. He hated this so much… “I’ll see you next week for the next drop!l

Kizaki hated that everyone in this store knew who he was. Hanayama was lucky Kizaki looked like a civilian. Otherwise they’d be in a mess if people were aware they were yakuza.

“Have a great day! See you next week!”

Kizaki grumbled a bit. This was an abuse of power… He deserved a raise.

.

.

.

Hanayama nervously sat in the VIP. He had it all blocked off so no one could see him other than (your name) and her group from the main stage.

He nervously fiddled with the backstage pass around his neck as well as the jacket to his white suit. Hanayama made sure to wear one of his best suits, no matter how tempted he was to wear merch. Hanayama had to maintain his ‘cool’ image despite the raging fan from within.

Hanayama adjusted his glasses, a round hand fan tightly clenched in his hand with (your name)’s smiling face on it. This was the smallest pleasure he’d allow himself…

Hanayama’s breath hitched when he saw (your name) get onto stage with her group, her smiled looked even more beautiful in person…

Hanayama watched her start to perform, his complete attention on her jovial form. Hanayama could tell she enjoyed what she did for a living… it’s another reason why he adored her so much.

Hanayama held out his palm and imagined her dancing on his palm. His body relaxed at that thought. He wished they could be together so desperately but their worlds were so very different…

Hanayama froze when (your name) made her way over towards the VIP, his heart drummed in his chest when their eyes locked on one another. Hanayama stood up and automatically went towards the stage. (Your name)’s presence was magnetic.

The world felt as if it stopped when her entire attention was on him while she sung and danced. It was just him and her despite the sold out stadium… him and his idol.

Hanayama flipped over the fan to show off the back of it that said, “will you be my onee-chan?”

(Your name) paused for a second, but then she gave him a smile so sweet that it could make teeth rot. Her hand went up and gave him a finger heart.

Hanayama fell to his knees when she sauntered away to continue her performance. His hand clutched his heart to try to calm the drumming of her heart that begged to burst from his chest to dance with her. His cheeks burned like a fire from how hot they were.

(Your name) was the only woman in the world who had such an effect on the normally stoic man.

After a decade, he finally was able to see his idol in real life… and it was more magical than he could have ever imagined.

Soon… he’d get to speak with her.

.

.

.

(Your name) adjusted her appearance in the mirror of her dressing room. Her body trembled a bit in anxiousness.

When they told her that her number on fan had rented out the entire VIP section, she had assumed they were an older woman or man… not a crime boss.

(Your name) shivered at how scary he was. His face was littered in scars and he was as big as a barn. She had snuck a glance at the receipt in her manager’s hand and found out his name was Hanayama Kaoru and he was twenty five years old.

Despite his mature appearance, he was a year younger than her, which fascinated her a bit. Hanayama seemed like such a no nonsense man… why on earth was he here to see her perform?

“(Your name), your number one fan is here.” (Your name) tried her best not to role her eyes at the sarcasm one of her group members exuded.

(Your name) took in a deep breath and put on her game face. It was fine… she could do this.

(Your name) rose from the vanity chair to go greet Hanayama. The giant man awkwardly stood outside the room, he looked so out of place that it was almost comical.

“Hello, are you Hanayama?” (Your name) smiled at him, his red cheeks and ears made him slightly endearing. He was kind of cute in a way…

Hanayama bent down a bit until he was her height, his large hand scooped up hers and gave the back of her knuckles a tender kiss.

“My name is Hanayama Kaoru,” Hanayama looked up, his obsidian eyes now visible since she was up close. “And I’m your biggest fan.”

[sukunasweetheart]

man, im thinking about sucking sukuna off underneath a desk during an important meeting... 

warnings; ceo sukuna, lots of teasing, degradation, rough throat fucking, hate?fucking, exhibitionism, throatpie (yay), implied rough sex at the end

you’re fondling and groping his cock over his pants until he gets hard, until you can see the visible bulge against the zipper, desperate to be let out. drag your fingertips down the still-clothed erection, making more precum leak out against his boxers. your hands do an excellent job at getting him all worked up.

once you’ve had enough of that, you then pull his zipper down, excruciatingly slow. you don’t want the others to hear anything, after all. once his cock is freed, you grin at its angry red tip and the bulging vein running along it. you palm sukuna’s heavy balls, playing around with them for a little before sucking them into your mouth. you’re painfully aware of how much he likes it when you use your mouth to warm them up. then, the tip of your tongue is dragged its way up, towards the head of his dick, where you lick off the pooling precum that’d been dripping since a while ago from his slit. 

above the desk, sukuna looks perfectly professional, doing his part as the ceo during this meeting, only an occasional jerk of his hips that is barely noticeable. internally, he’s already making plans on how to punish you for this later.

going back down below - you’re now softly sucking on his tip only, purposefully keeping the rest of his erection out of its haven, that is, your warm throat. the tangy taste of his drooling arousal continues to disperse itself on the surface of your buds and you can’t get enough of it, continuing to roll your tongue around his cockhead, in the way that you know drives him mad.

his facial expressions and body language can put on a facade all they want. he can display his false exterior and keep his voice firm all he wants. but his dick can’t lie now, can it?

when you take your lips off of it, you see how his cock throbs uncontrollably, almost begging you to keep going, until it’s release. you just have to stifle a giggle and admire its honesty. you gently blow air against him, being the ultimate tease.

behind sukuna’s closed mouth, he’s gritting his teeth, his patience running dangerously thin.

you repeat this vicious cycle, taunting his dick with your soft, warm tongue, refusing to take him in any deeper, and then releasing his tip from your mouth when he’s close to cumming.  this continues throughout the entire hour long meeting. it must be your imagination, but his balls seem a little heavier when you decide to give them another fondle a bit later.

towards the end, there’s a vein bulging out his forehead and an intimidating glare in his eyes. employees meekly trail out one by one, leaving the room in a hurry. sukuna orders uraume to lock the door on the way out. they don’t question the order, and does as they are told.

cut to the main event.

your hands are gripping, tugging at his clothes as sukuna fucks your throat raw. tears streaming, drool rolling down the corner of your mouth, you struggle to breathe as he mercilessly pushes past the back of your throat, balls hitting your chin lewdly.

“you’re a fucking whore, you know that?” he enunciates fiercely, meeting your eyes that still continue to somehow taunt him. you’re soaking wet down there.

the gurgling noises from your throat echo around the now empty meeting room, paired up with sukuna’s grunts and additional hisses of degradation. he loses a piece of his mind every time he feels you close up around him. 

“you sure had your fun playing around with my cock for an hour straight. let’s see if you can handle the same from me,” he mutters, continuing to use you without break. he chases after his long awaited, well deserved release.

sukuna’s breathing quickens, and his grip on your hair tightens as he gets close to his orgasm. fuck, fuck, fuck, he repeats in his head. he hates you so fucking much. he hates how desperate you make him feel. he hates how you are both the cause and solution to his problems.

while thinking such thoughts, he cums down your throat with his head lolled back, pushing himself balls-deep into you. your eyes roll back as his piping hot spend passes through your insides, splashing into your stomach. you swallow around his cock and sukuna can’t stop his hips from jolting.

when he slowly pulls out, you’re finally able to take a full breath properly. but even with your ruined makeup and tearstained cheeks, your lips curl up into a sly smirk, like you were the one finally satisfied.

oh, just what is he to do with a minx like you? he’s gotten himself involved with a terrible, crazy succubus.

“fuckin’ hell. you actually enjoyed that, didn’t you? you slut.”

you nod at him innocently, smiling up at him, being all cute.

you attempt to stand, but your knees buckle from being on them for so long, and he has to catch you to stop you from falling back.

“you alright?” the question comes out before he can stop himself.

“no...i’m not,” you mumble lowly, getting him to raise an eyebrow at you.

you grab his hand and place his palm onto your abdomen.

“i need you here,” you tell him, blinking your doe eyes at him. “i thought you said you were going to see if i could handle the same?”

oh, for fuck’s sake.

something snaps inside him - and he’s already laying you across the desk, ready to pummel your fucking pussy.

he hates you so much.

(lies.)

Masterlist

[loaksky]

— 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦

the lowdown — the one where you’re breaking and neteyam picks up the pieces. 

the who — neteyam x fem omatikaya!reader

the word count — 2.1k

the tags & warnings — like two curse words, another really self-indulgent one because i miss neteyam sm heh, established relationship, neteyam is sweet as always and reader has a lot of thoughts / doubts. 

the notes — based off of this request! here is my word vomit because i have no self control lmaooo.

masterlist

No one in particular could tell, but the pressure was crushing you. 

It had started off small, the most minuscule of tickles behind your navel, a tiny niggling in your brain, the softest tension in your shoulders. 

Your parents were notable figures within the Omatikaya, had spent countless years toiling over action plans, working closely with Jake to ensure the safety of the people. 

And as you grew into yourself, into the role that was carved out and waiting for you, you’d begun to realize that there was a lot more riding on your budding relationship with the olo’eyktan’s son. 

You and Neteyam had grown up as friends, had trained diligently together against the landscape of years and years of conflict beginning to come to a head. And when the time had come for you two to begin focusing in more distinct areas of study, the widening berth couldn’t stop the feelings that were kindling. 

“Your heart is soft for Sully’s son.” Your father had made the observation out of the blue in your fourteenth year. 

You hadn’t denied it, couldn’t when his gaze was knowing and your mother couldn’t contain the smile that was creeping onto her lips. And you wouldn’t, of course you wouldn’t, not when the mere mention of Neteyam made your stomach swirl with butterflies and your cheeks insatiably warm. 

“Good,” your mother hummed. “This is good news.”

The fusion of questioning and embarrassment on your face made your father continue. 

“We think that after your coming of age, a union between you and Neteyam will be ideal for the future of the clan,” he said. 

You didn’t miss the insinuation. For the future of the clan, regardless of if your heart was soft for him or not. 

You had just swallowed around nothing and nodded, found that there was no use in arguing. Not when your parents seemed so pleased and you and Neteyam had a good thing. 

It was the first crack in your facade, when your father had left you and your mother in the tent and she repositioned to sit across from you. 

“Do you know what this means Maite?” she asked you carefully, thumb smoothing over your cheek. 

Your hesitation made her smile at you again. 

“You are excelling in your studies,” she’d said. 

The tension in your shoulders had softened the slightest when you saw the streak of pride, of warmth, in her eyes. You never wanted her to look at you any differently. 

“You have the power to be a very successful tsahik, Maite,” she said decisively. “Every day you make me proud. One day you will make the people proud.” 

You thought that you’d be able to grow into it, that the fears that were beginning to slowly culminate as each orbit arrived and went would be so insignificant. 

In turn, it grows with you, large enough to wrangle, but too large to squash. You don’t let it debilitate you, don’t want the people who are starting to pay closer attention to you, but more specifically Neteyam, to see that there’s an internal struggle. 

What would they think of you? Of your family? Of Neteyam’s and his? Honor was a dicey thing, something that could be disturbed at the drop of a hat. 

So you force a brave face among a worsening war, waging  nearer and nearer. The victories are small, losses smaller, and for a short while, you think that things could be alright. 

Especially when moments, few and far in between go undisturbed by the outside world. When you and Neteyam are given the freedom to bask in the tail end of your adolescence and start together in your young adulthood. 

He’s your calm in the unrelenting storm, your foundation when you feel like toppling over. 

So when the looming war arrives at your front step, and you feel like the fragile world you’ve built for yourself is on the brink of shambles, Neteyam is there. 

“We have to leave.” 

Your family sits inside of Mo’at’s tent with the Sully’s as Jake breaks the news that it’s ride or die. The future that you’d spent your entire life training for no longer lingers near, but has been blown so far out of reach, you begin to feel like it’s been all for nothing. 

“We move right after eclipse,” he announces. “Only important things, we have to travel light.” 

You’re stunned, frozen in your spot as the words sink their claws into you. 

He notices, Neteyam does, that the news seems to crack your facade even more. He can see it on your face. 

He calls your name softly, situating himself so that he sits in front of you. When you look up, he sees the tears pooling in your eyes and his body immediately softens. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispers, stroking your cheek gently. “It will be alright. We’ll be alright.” 

You wanted to believe him, you really did, and for a while, there was a sliver of hope, but life in Awa’atlu is different, an endless array of glittering blue waters and colorful reefs. Absolutely nothing like the forest that you grew up in. 

It doesn’t help that the villagers are all wary, watching you all like a hawk in every endeavor. You wish you could be more like Neteyam, like Tuk, who embrace their new life in stride, but Awa’atlu isn’t home. 

Home is oceans away and you feel disoriented, unable to wall yourself off with your duties whenever things get overwhelming because the dynamics here are different, too. Your future is treading a thin line and all you can do is try to assimilate as best you can. 

But you don’t know the way of water, can’t seem to grasp it no matter how hard anyone tries to teach you. And it makes the pressure infinitely worse, the tension nearly cracking your bones with how heavy it weighs on your shoulders. 

Tsireya’s lessons in breathwork never seem to stick as you frequently fall behind in your daily swims, messages lost in translation because the sign language is too vast for you to remember. Doesn’t help that your crafting using the reefs’ materials are subpar if Ronal’s narrowed scrutiny and Tsireya’s giggling is anything to go by. 

You’re so used to excelling, to being extraordinary despite the stress, but here, you feel like nothing under the crushing pressure. Feel it exceptionally so when you notice your mother’s concerned gaze and the eclipsing disappointment in your father’s. 

And you think that no one notices, not when Lo’ak is out causing trouble, Kiri is embracing the ocean, and Tuk is growing into the waters. You think you’re suffering in silence, but as always, Neteyam sees you. He always does. 

It’s on a particularly rough morning that you completely crack. 

It’s the smallest of offenses, something that you usually laugh off for the sake of peace, but Ao’nung is good at pushing your buttons and you’re missing the forest a little more than usual. 

“Damn, forest girl, it’s been months,” he teases, snatching the pouch you were in the middle of weaving to turn it over in his webbed fingers. “Still working on this old thing?” 

You swallow, unable to meet his gaze, not wanting to admit that the seaweeds they use to fashion things are too slippery, the salt stinging your fingers so much that they blister every session you sit down with your project. 

You want to tell him that if you were in the forest, you could weave five, ten of them before eclipse, but you’re on his turf and the forest is but a distant memory now. 

“Ao’nung,” his friend’s voice is warning. 

“What?” he guffaws. “Look at it! Babies weave better than this.” 

Your throat is locking up, eyes burning equal parts because the wind is blowing sand in your face and because you just want to go home.

“Ao’nung.” 

He gaze flits back to yours, teasing smile vanishing when he sees your clenched fists and the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Woah, woah,” he laughs uncomfortably. “I was just—“ 

You’re on your feet and scrambling away before the waterworks start, but you know that he’s seen them if the way he calls your name in defeat is any indication. 

You’d always been afraid of failure, but here it’s all you seem to know. 

You brush the tears away in hot pursuit of somewhere else, anywhere else but here in the moment. And you’re so engrossed in making sure you’re not tripping over the sprawling roots of the mangroves that you don’t even notice that Neteyam’s caught sight of you from across the way and abandons his task with Jake to follow after you. 

He doesn’t notice you’re upset until he realizes how tense your gait is and hears the hiccuping breaths that spill from your lips. 

“________?” he calls carefully, a few meters behind you as you climb and weave through the pathways.

You stop, frozen in place at the mere mention of your name, the soft timbre like honey. 

Embarrassment floods your system as you knuckle your eyes and try to compose yourself in the short strides it takes for Neteyam to invade your space. 

“Syulang?” He calls you by that stupid pet name you’d told him you hated and it makes you crumple. 

He’s coming around to face you, eyes wide when he sees how distraught you look, cheeks flushed and streaked with tears. 

“Hey, hey,” he calls softly, arms coming around you to pull you into his broad chest. “What happened?” 

You feel stupid, letting a dumb comment like Ao’nung’s be your final trigger, but you can’t help it. Not when you’ve been trying like hell to make it work, when you can’t seem to catch on like everyone else. 

Neteyam feels you shake your head and he sighs, pulling away from you gently to smear away your tears, forefinger and thumb grasp your chin to tilt your head to make sure that not a hair’s out of place. 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” he asks seriously. 

You shake your head again and he seems to unwind a fraction. 

“You wanna talk about it?” he prods. 

“No,” you whisper. 

He kisses your forehead, arms wrapping around you when he feels your breath hitch and your shoulders shake all over again. 

“Wanna lay down?” he offers. 

You nod. 

The marui is empty nearly the entire day, Neteyam settled in the hammock first and your back nestled against his front as he shifts to allow the netting to swing. 

He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, other arm caged across your front to hold the opposite. 

“I miss it,” you whisper hoarsely, after an indiscernible lapse of time. 

“Home?” Neteyam deduces. 

You nod. 

“Me too,” he admits. “All the time.” 

Another pregnant pause before he speaks again. 

“You know I’m proud of you, right?” he says, squeezing you tight. 

“I don’t know what for,” you murmur, hand covering his. “I haven’t done anything to be proud of.” 

“I’d argue otherwise,” he says quietly, voice a hairsbreadth from your twitching ear. “I know you’re struggling, ________.”

You take a shaky breath. 

“But you’re trying,” he continues. “No matter how difficult the situation, how hard it may be for you to adapt, you’re always trying.” 

You eye the threadwork of the marui’s hide, afraid that if you turn to face Neteyam you’ll break all over again. 

“Sometimes that is more noble than succeeding.” 

“Easy for you to say,” you argue quietly. “Everything was effortless for you. You just dove right in and took the reins.” 

You feel Neteyam press his cheek to the top of your head, shifting so that he can fully engulf you in his hold. 

“Nothing is easy when you see the person you love fight battles they don’t need to endure alone,” he says simply. “You’re a strong girl, ________. But it’s okay to ask for help. If no one else will be there, let it be me.” 

You want to protest, but Neteyam’s speaking again. 

“Regardless of if we return to the forest or not, it will always be me and you,” he says. “I’ll never leave you hanging.” 

And you know he won’t, know that while you and Neteyam breathe the same air, he will always be there to fill the fissures in your facade. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, feeling weak and hopelessly vulnerable in front of someone who’s only ever seen you on the brink. 

“You don’t need to apologize for feeling,” he tells you, pressing a hand over your heart. “Because this right here is the mightiest thing about you.” 

neng © 2023

taglist; @nao-cchi , @jkiminpark , @philiasoul @amart-e , @s-u-t , @netesbby , @tayswiftlovebot , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @ewackmn , @fanboyluvr , @neteyamoa , @itssiaaax , @girlpostingsposts , @athenachu

[cosmicconnectionz]

Venus Signs and their Love Expressions 💖

✨ Venus in Aries: With the fiery energy of Aries, individuals with this placement express love through dynamic actions that keep the excitement alive. They're the ones who will surprise you with spontaneous road trips to uncharted destinations, whisking you away from the mundane routine and infusing a sense of adventure into your relationship. Their passionate nature translates into affectionate displays, whether it's stealing kisses during a thrilling outdoor activity or sending you bold, flirtatious messages that make your heart race. These Aries lovers thrive on the thrill of the chase, reveling in the process of pursuing your heart and making you feel like the center of their world. While their impulsive nature may lead to occasional fiery arguments, their ability to make up just as quickly keeps the passion burning strong.

✨ Venus in Taurus: Grounded and sensual, those with Venus in Taurus express love in ways that appeal to the senses. They believe in the power of touch, creating an intimate connection through physical affection that ranges from gentle caresses to indulgent massages. Their love language involves preparing exquisite meals that tantalize your taste buds, turning mundane evenings into romantic culinary experiences. These individuals excel at turning their living spaces into cozy nests, where you'll find solace and security amidst soft blankets and scented candles. Their unwavering commitment and steadfast loyalty create a foundation of trust, making you feel cherished and adored. While they may be prone to occasional stubbornness, their enduring affection keeps you anchored in the warmth of their love.

✨ Venus in Gemini: Communication is key for those with Venus in Gemini, as they express love through engaging conversations that spark curiosity and connection. They'll send you thoughtful messages throughout the day, filled with witty remarks and intriguing questions that keep the dialogue alive. Their love language involves exploring your mind together, delving into intellectual topics and sharing insights that deepen your bond. These individuals thrive in social settings, and they'll introduce you to new experiences and people that broaden your horizons. Their playful nature shines through as they engage in light-hearted teasing and inside jokes that create a unique world of togetherness. While their ever-active minds may lead to occasional distractions, their genuine interest in your thoughts and feelings remains a constant source of affection.

✨ Venus in Cancer: Nurturers at heart, those with Venus in Cancer express love through acts of caring that make you feel safe and supported. They have an intuitive understanding of your emotions, offering a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on during both joyous moments and challenging times. Their love language involves creating a comforting sanctuary, whether it's through home-cooked meals that evoke childhood memories or cozy movie nights cuddled up on the couch. Their unwavering loyalty and dedication create a bond that withstands the tests of time, making you feel like you have a true partner in every sense of the word. While their sensitivity may lead to occasional mood swings, their genuine empathy and nurturing nature make you feel truly cherished.

✨ Venus in Leo: These passionate individuals express love through grand gestures that make you feel like royalty. Their love language involves showering you with compliments that boost your confidence and make you feel truly special. They have a flair for the dramatic, whether it's organizing surprise parties that celebrate your achievements or creating artistic displays that capture the essence of your connection. Their affectionate nature shines through in public displays of affection, proudly showing you off to the world and making you the center of attention. Their unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness create a sense of security and belonging that strengthens your bond. While their need for recognition may lead to occasional clashes, their undeniable love and devotion always take center stage.

✨ Venus in Virgo: Practical and detail-oriented, those with Venus in Virgo express love through thoughtful actions that demonstrate their dedication. They have a keen eye for your needs and will go above and beyond to ensure your comfort and well-being. Their love language involves acts of service, whether it's planning meticulously organized dates or offering a helping hand in times of need. Their commitment and reliability create a sense of stability in your relationship, making you feel like you can always count on them. Their thoughtful gestures, from leaving little notes of appreciation to organizing your belongings, show their genuine care and affection. While their perfectionist tendencies may lead to occasional nitpicking, their unwavering support and practical love keep your connection strong.

✨ Venus in Libra: With a natural sense of harmony, those with Venus in Libra express love through creating a balanced and aesthetically pleasing environment. They have a knack for planning romantic getaways that rejuvenate your connection and infuse your relationship with a sense of enchantment. Their love language involves engaging in thoughtful discussions that explore the depths of your emotions and viewpoints, fostering a strong intellectual and emotional bond. Their charm and social grace shine through as they introduce you to new experiences and people, expanding your horizons together. Their commitment to fairness and compromise creates a partnership built on mutual respect and consideration. While their indecisiveness may lead to occasional challenges, their genuine desire for harmony and connection prevails.

✨ Venus in Scorpio: Intense and transformative, those with Venus in Scorpio express love through deep emotional connections that delve into the core of your being. Their love language involves exploring the depths of intimacy, sharing their darkest secrets, and forging a bond that transcends the ordinary. They're fiercely loyal and protective, standing by your side through thick and thin, creating a sense of trust that forms the foundation of your relationship. Their passionate nature shines through in their intimate physical experiences, creating a connection that goes beyond the surface. Their unwavering dedication and willingness to explore vulnerability make you feel truly seen and understood. While their intensity may lead to occasional power struggles, their profound love and unwavering commitment always bring you back together.

✨ Venus in Sagittarius: Adventure and exploration define the love language of those with Venus in Sagittarius. They express love by taking you on exciting journeys, both physically and mentally, as they share their thirst for knowledge and new experiences. Their love language involves engaging in philosophical conversations that expand your horizons and challenge your perspectives. Their adventurous spirit shines through as they plan spontaneous getaways and introduce you to cultures and ideas that enrich your lives. Their sense of humor and lighthearted approach create a dynamic connection filled with laughter and joy. While their love for freedom may lead to occasional moments of independence, their boundless enthusiasm and zest for life always bring you back together.

✨ Venus in Capricorn: Practical and committed, those with Venus in Capricorn express love through building a stable and secure future together. They approach love with a sense of responsibility and dedication, creating a partnership grounded in shared goals and long-term planning. Their love language involves creating enduring traditions and routines that strengthen your connection over time. Their reliability and steadfastness create a sense of security, making you feel like you have a partner who will weather any storm by your side. Their ability to provide practical solutions and steady support makes them a pillar of strength in your life. While their focus on work and ambition may lead to occasional moments of distance, their enduring love and commitment always shine through.

✨ Venus in Aquarius: Unconventional and open-minded, those with Venus in Aquarius express love by celebrating your uniqueness and fostering a deep mental connection. Their love language involves engaging in thought-provoking conversations that explore innovative ideas and social causes. They show affection by supporting your individuality and encouraging your creative pursuits. Their willingness to stand by your side in advocating for change and making a positive impact on the world creates a bond that goes beyond the ordinary. Their progressive nature shines through in their ability to embrace diversity and challenge societal norms, making your relationship a space where you can both grow and evolve. While their need for independence may lead to occasional moments of solitude, their unwavering friendship and intellectual companionship always draw you back together.

✨ Venus in Pisces: Their love is a beautiful dream woven with compassion and deep emotional connection. Those with Venus in Pisces express love through creative expressions that evoke profound feelings. Their love language involves sharing intimate moments of vulnerability and empathy, creating a sense of emotional closeness that transcends words. They'll write heartfelt letters and poems that capture the essence of their feelings, and they'll plan romantic escapades that allow you to connect on a soulful level. Their intuitive nature enables them to understand your unspoken emotions, providing comfort and solace when you need it most. Their willingness to explore the spiritual and mystical aspects of life creates a unique and ethereal connection that defies the ordinary. While their sensitivity may lead to occasional emotional tides, their unconditional love and deep emotional bond always guide you back to each other.

[dragonagitator]

House MD fans: You wake up in the PPTH ER in summer 2004. What you doing?

Scenario parameters:

All your memories of the show and the past 20 years are intact.

You are stuck there/then and cannot return to our universe/year.

You have nothing but the hospital gown on your back.

Questions:

So, what do you do?

How much would you tell House?

How would you get him to believe you?

Who else would you tell?

How much would you tell them?

Inspiration:

The author self-insert isekai fanfic "Intervention" by VivatRex (aka @acrownforaking). They've been writing it for the past 11+ years and are still updating. It's already nearly 300k words long despite only being up to the events of S02E15. I AM IN AWE.

I haven't been able to stop thinking about this scenario ever since I read that fanfic a month ago. I'd love to discuss it with other House MD fans and hear what you would do.

(Apologies to the mutuals for the abrupt blog topic change. A new brainrot has taken hold.)

My short answer:

My long answers are below the cut.

So, what do you do?

My primary objective would be to enlist House in averting the pandemic.

My reasoning: If anyone can nip it in the bud before it gets out of Wuhan, I figure that a world-renowned genius doctor who is an infectious diseases specialist, speaks Mandarin, and now has a 15-year head start would have the best chance.

Difficulty level: Babysitting a narcissistic manchild with the self-preservation instincts of a toddler until the year 2020 so that he makes it there then alive, out of prison, and with his sanity, medical license, and professional reputation intact. To quote Quantum Leap, "Ohhhhhh boooooooy."

Strategy: I'm in the "I could fix him, but whatever's wrong with him is way funnier" camp, so I wouldn't try to change him (that always backfires anyway). Instead, I'd try to change his circumstances:

A stable romantic relationship would help, so I'd seduce him if I can (I'm not his type but a gal's gotta shoot her shot), try to get him together with Dominika earlier if I can't, and tell him how horribly his relationship with Cuddy ended so he knows better than to even start it.

Avert the shooting. Moriaty was a patient so his info is in the PPTH files. I AM THE ONE WHO KNOCKS. Or for a less murdery approach, try to get him arrested in April 2006 for violating New Jersey's strict gun laws.

Warn House about Tritter so he can switch patients with another clinic doctor.

Warn House to never get on a bus with Amber.

Tell Kutner I'm from the future and he's the only one who can prevent something horrible from happening (he's a Trekkie so he'll want to believe), then unfurl my big timeline poster and point at the "Kutner suicide early 2009" stickynote and ask him "so what's up with that, dude?"

Tell Wilson everything I can remember about his cancer -- he's an oncologist and thus can work backwards from there to figure out when to start checking for it so he can cut the tumor out while it's still just a tiny baby.

I would take a harm reduction approach to House's drug use, e.g., suggest that he try microdosing psilocybin and extend his liver's lifespan by substituting cannabis for some of his Vicodin and alcohol consumption.

Methods: Even though he doesn't have one for most of the show, House mentions a few times that he's entitled to hire an assistant, and I happen to be excellent at administrative work.

I think he'd be willing to hire me because working as his executive assistant / department secretary would position me to recognize patients as they come in so that I can discreetly pass along anything I remember, e.g., the kindergarten teacher has pork worms in her brain, ask the scientist in Antarctica to show you her feet, etc.

Meanwhile, I could lurk around the hospital preventing miscellaneous shit, e.g., get the gift shop volunteer from S01E04 to go home sick, ensure that the gunman from S05E09 is promptly admitted, diagnosed, and treated before he snaps and takes hostages, etc.

Possible sidequests:

Use my foreknowlege to get rich by milking online poker bonuses until the passage of the UIGEA in 2006, use my poker money to start flipping houses until 2007, get in on the "Big Short" in 2008, and set a Google Alert for "Bitcoin" so I can start mining/buying it from day one. Unfortunately, I haven't paid enough attention to individual stocks to play the market other than knowing that Amazon would be a good long-term buy & hold.

Use my riches to change the outcome of the 2016 election and try to steer the development of the internet and society in general in a slightly less stupid direction.

Send Pete Carroll a letter postdated just before the 2013 Superbowl telling him the outcome, then suggest for the final play of the 2014 Superbowl that the Seahawks try handing the ball off to Marshawn Lynch instead of throwing it because that throw will be intercepted. PRIORITIES.

How much would you tell House? How would you get him to believe you?

Your story about being from the future of an alternate universe in which House and everyone he knows are characters on a fictional TV show is already too batshit crazy to believe even without his kneejerk "everybody lies" skepticism. How would you differentiate yourself from all the patients who pull crazy stunts to try to get him to take their case?

My answer: For the "from the future" part, I'm hoping there's some sort of test that House could run to confirm that I was indeed vaccinated with a mRNA vaccine against the COVID-19/SARS-COV-2 virus. Given that neither of those things existed in 2004, that would be physical evidence that I'm not from around here now.

If producing physical evidence isn't possible, then I know that Vegetative State Guy from S03E15 is already a patient at PPTH because he'd been there for 10 years, so I'd find him and tell House about his son. I could also tell House enough about the cases from the first few episodes that I'm pretty sure he'd believe me by Christmas. I want in on Chinese food with Wilson.

I would wait until House accepted the "from the future" part before broaching the "fictional TV show" issue. Until then, "I watched a TV show about your life and cases" is a 100% true statement and it's not my fault if he assumes that show was a documentary. :)

Once he believed me, I'd tell him everything.

Who else would you tell? How much would you tell them?

There are people out there who would literally kill for your knowledge of the future, so going public or being too open about it seems highly risky.

My answer: I'd tell House, Wilson, and Chase right away. Kutner but not before Jan 2009. Maybe eventually Cuddy and the rest of the Diagnostics team if keeping my foreknowledge of the future from them proves too difficult.

House is the only one who gets to know everything. Everyone else is on a "need to know" basis.

I might also bring Bill Arnello (the brother/lawyer of the mob informant in S01E15 "Mob Rules") into the circle of trust because he could be a very useful resource for some of my sidequests, e.g., changing the outcome of the 2016 election far far far in advance and in the most direct way possible. (Hi, Secret Service! This is a purely hypothetical discussion about time travel and not at all indicative of any real criminal intent, pls do not pay me a visit, kthxbai.)

I think the only people I would tell the "fictional TV show" part to would be House, Wilson, and Chase, because there are things I need to warn them about that definitely wouldn't have been in a documentary. Like Chase needs to know that killing Diballa is 100% the right thing to do but he seriously needs to work on his OpSec. Everyone else gets the implied documentary lie of omission.

If I get caught knowing too much by random patients, I'll just claim to be psychic. Way more people believe in that than would believe in time travel.

What would you do?

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price

18+

Prof!Price as he's sitting behind his desk in his professor office.

His class is in 20 minutes, waiting for the printer to copy the last minute quiz for the students and see how much they're learning with his works and his passion.

Professor Price is a responsible man. You'll never see him late for something. If he won't be able to make it, he'll call in advance to make sure whoever he's meeting doesn't have any worries or don't waste their time waiting for him. It is not a surprise seeing Price earlier than the hour expected.

He's also good with suggestions. He can suggest any book, a good restaurant, a good country, and even an excellent person. He would recommend anyone or anything that's fit for the role they asked him.

If other teachers asks him about who's the best student in his class, he would have in mind just one person.

Obviously, that person can't fail him.

"W-Wait..." She said as she threw her head back in ecstasy. "I-I can't ans...answer if you're like th...like this oh my-..."

Price stopped kissing her. His head appeared from under her skirt as he looked up at her. "Mmm... That's not the answer I'm looking for. Try again."

He went again in between her legs as his tongue licked a straight line through all her sensitivity. She lets out a little whimper and wriggled, feeling the uncomfortable desk below her. "Wh-why ar... ah... are we doing this...?"

"You're my best student." He said, kissing her inner thigh, marking it with a little bruise. "I need to make sure my student is well prepared for her quiz and doesn't let down my word of trust I put on her with other professors." Price said as he let out a little laugh. She almost collapsed when she felt his hot breath all over her.

Truth be told, he just wanted to eat his lover out before class starts. The bonus points are the favoritism he has that let her see the questions of the quiz.

He sucked her bud like it was the last time he would be between her legs. Her wetness is getting stronger by the second as she's starting to feel the familiar heat below her stomach. "Now tell me again... According to the book, what happened to her when she saw him at the cliff?" He said before his tongue entered her insides. She lets out a moan as one hand flew to his head, fingers locking around his short hair and the other crumbling the paper with the questions and answers. "Lord... Price I can't... it's too mu-..." She cried before she could even finish her sentence.

"No, my love, it's not too much. You can take this. Now answer the question." He said groaning, savoring the sweet and salty taste of her essence. His pants were about to burst in any second. He wanted to make love to her and treat her as she deserves, but they don't have the time for that.

His tongue picked up again the pace, giving her rapid thrusts as his hands adjusted the grip on her thighs. John's pretty sure his fingers will be leaving marks and bruises, but he doesn't care. He will take care of it later in his bed.

She moans loudly, raising the probability of getting caught by someone passing through his office. "Oh... I'm close. I'm very close..." Her eyes getting watered with the feeling of the familiar knot in her belly. "Slo... Slow down... no, I'm too close... Fuck... I'm..." At this point, she couldn't even say something coherent, her mind clouded with an intense pleasure.

His tongue didn't stop at her remarks. Price just picked up the pace, going faster. "Come for me, my love. Let me feel you."

Those words snapped something inside of her.

She cried loudly when her orgasm broke. Waves went through her body, making her a shaking mess with pure bliss. Her juices went all over his lower face, and he drank it like a fine wine only made for him.

She collapsed on his desk, looking at the ceiling of his office. Chest rising up and down as if she was running a marathon. The hand that was on Price's hair started caressing his head, thumb grazing his ear softly. Her eyes closed for a second, liking the feeling of his hair in her hand.

There is nothing better than getting tongue-fucked by your professor in his office, she thought with a sarcastic emotion.

Three knocks on the door made her jump slightly. Her heartbeat went up within a second, leaving no rest to her breathing.

Someone is there.

She tried to get out of his grip, but he held her steady in that position. "Price, there's someone knocking on your do-...Ah fuck-..." She flew one of her hands to her mouth when his tongue entered her sensitive hole again without any warning.

"Jo... John, what are you doing?!" He stopped kissing her, peering over her skirt for a second. "There's someone on your door and you-..." Her sentence got interrupted by a moan when he sucked her sensitive folds all over again.

"You didn't answer my question." He said in a serious tone, angry at the person behind the door, interrupting his precious time with her. He doesn't care who's waiting for him. The only thing that matters is her right now. "Tell me what happened to her when she saw him at the end of the cliff."

She puts her elbows on his desk to get some support to look at his eyes filled with hunger and lust. "Are you serious-... Oh my..." She threw her head back again, letting out a little cry when his tongue licked from her hole to her clit.

"Tell me, hurry up."

Her mind was clouded again with the feeling of his tongue only. Is incredible how much control he has over her, how much he knows about disconnecting the only string of her consciousness, and only bringing her to a stage of pure ecstasy.

She opened her mouth only to let out a whimper. "Shh..." He said, tapping her thigh, a gesture he does when he wants to silence her. "You better start answering before they know that you're in your professor's desk with legs wide open, showing him where you like his mouth."

Three knocks again made her fear grow bigger. She doesn't know why he's taking this situation in a slightly matter. Just a simple door is hiding the person from seeing this scandalous scene.

But also, it excites her.

The feeling of her professor and her lover not wanting to let her go with his hands on the soft flesh of her thighs gripping her with so much force is driving her crazy.

"J-John... no..." His tongue picked up the pace he had earlier, her back arching from the surface of the desk. "Price... Okay I'll-...I'll sa-... ah... say it." She bit her lip, trying to stop a moan from the depths of her throat.

"Go on."

"Fuck... She collapsed... She collapsed at the same time... he jumped into... into the cliff." His mouth cut any contact, shivering when cold air hits her as her chest was rising and falling fast, letting her catch a long breath. Before she can process what's happening, his hands takes her underwear, putting it back on.

Price helped her get off his desk. She gets off but places her hands on his arms, trying to look for some support to her wobbly legs. He puts an arm around her waist, holding her steady.

"Be careful, my love. I don't want you to fall."

She looks up at him with disoriented eyes, still trying to get down from that cloud of ecstasy. She looked so beautiful, with her hair in a few directions, a few strands plasted in her sweaty forehead and a cute little blush, as if Claude Monet took his time to pick the most beautiful red for her to mark her cheeks. He almost forgets the person behind his door, waiting for his approval to come in.

Price kissed her softly and took her hands. "I need you to get under my desk and wait until that person is gone. Can you do that?" She nodded, looking at him. She went down on her knees and crawled under his desk as he sat down, with her between his legs.

Price adjusted his hair and shirt, cleaning the remnants off and making it seem like he wasn't eating someone on top of his desk a few seconds ago.

Suddenly, a little hand comes up to his leg, and a head rests on his inner thigh. He tensed at first but relaxed when he saw what she was doing.

She was hugging him.

Fuck the emotion he was feeling was beyond universe. She's so cute. He loved her so much.

He rests a hand on top of her head, caressing her hair softly. "I love you." He said with a little smile.

"I love you too."

Price cleared his throat, getting his attention back to his door.

"Come in."

The doors opens revealing one of his colleagues and friends, who interrupted his precious time with his lover. "Vargas, Good evening. I apologize for making you wait. I was talking with a colleague on the phone and I couldn't hear you."

"Price, hermano, I'm surprised to see you here." Said Mr. Vargas with his eyes wide. John just raised an eyebrow at his comment.

"What do you mean? This is my office."

The professor checked his gold watch, glasses slipping off his nose while his head was tilted down. "Your class starts in 10 minutes, I think you're a little late."

Price's smile dropped a for a second at that. Fuck... he hates being late to his class.

Price is that kind of professor to be in the classroom 30 minutes before class starts so he can prepare everything and make things go smoothly. But right now, he doesn't have anything except the bunch of copies lying on his printer.

He won't blame himself nor the person under his desk. If it means eating her out and pleasuring her, it will be an honor to be late every day for the rest of his life.

This wasn't the first time to be almost caught in a situation like this. Sometimes they're very cautious with everyone and everywhere, but other times... things like that happens and Price needs to hide her under his desk or in a closet and try to finish his conversations with the other people.

"Bloody hell, I'm late."

Vargas laughed at that, but his expression was quickly replaced with one of confusion and curiosity. "What's that on your beard?"

Price touches his beard with his other hand and nearly froze at the sensation.

It was soaked.

He totally forgot about that detail.

The hand that was caressing her hair puts a little more pressure on. She was frozen on the spot with that question. "Oh, this?... I was drinking water before you entered and accidentally spilled it out."

Of course, he would say something like that. How can Price explain that his soaked beard was thanks to the woman under his desk, with a really notable expression of being eaten out?

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

The masterlist for this series is here: ( John Price Masterlist )

I apologize for any mistakes or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated. 🫶

[arecaceae175]

Fjdifisjkvkkdkfj so for pride month fics, I would absolutely die for light fluff with bonus links Loft and Zelda and Groose

I hope I asked right and it's an ok request and let me know if not those three together are my favourite relationship ever. I have a lot of favourites lol but they're my favourite

EXCELLENT REQUEST! Here they are <3

Summary: Groose creates a new little beverage. Loft gets cuddles. 761 words, fluff. Characters from @bonus-links!

Loft felt Zelda's gaze on him. He glanced up from the rough beginning of his woodcarving project and raised a questioning eyebrow. She smiled sheepishly, caught.

"What are you making?" Zelda asked.

Loft shrugged and glanced down at the mangled piece of wood. "I don't know yet."

Abundance was one of Link's favorite things about the surface. He no longer had to choose each project carefully, with only his allotted amount of wood each season. Here, the trees went on as far as he could explore. He had enough wood for every project he could imagine and then some.

Today, it was and then some.

Zelda smirked. "Taking your feelings out on that poor piece of wood?"

Loft felt the tips of his ears go pink as they wiggled closer to his head. "Is it that obvious?" He looked at his wood, truly looked, and yeah, okay, it was pretty mangled. Loft scrunched his nose in displeasure and put the carving knife down.

"Oops."

Zelda's hand went into his hair and scratched his head lightly. "What's on your mind?"

Loft flipped around and let his head rest on her lap. He sighed and held his hand in front of his face, clenching and unclenching it to ground himself in the painful sensation of the movement. Zelda gently slipped her hand into his and intertwined their fingers. Then, with her other hand, she reached down and flicked his ear.

"Hey!" Loft flinched away, but didn't bother moving from her lap. "What was that for?"

"Quit pouting," Zelda said with a sweet smile that betrayed her strict tone.

Loft rolled his eyes and let their hands fall to rest on his stomach. Zelda tried to wiggle her hand out but Loft held tight.

“I need both hands to sew, love.”

”Nope,” Loft said.

Zelda rolled her eyes. "If you-"

"Treat incoming!"

Groose's booming voice sent the birds fleeing from their spots in the trees. He approached holding a wide tray—one of the ones Loft carved recently with one of the new types of wood the explorers found—with three cups and a yellow fruit.

"Treat?" Zelda's ears perked up and wiggled with excitement.

"Gotta sit up for this one, babe. It's worth it." Groose kneeled down and grabbed Loft's free hand and pulled him up. Loft grumbled as the blood rushed through his ears and he let himself fall onto Groose's chest.

"You okay?" Groose asked. His hand came to rest on Loft's shoulder, holding him securely to his chest.

"Mmm," Loft hummed. His world stopped spinning and he opened his eyes, but he didn't move from his spot in Groose's arms. He had to use his miserable body to his advantage, sometimes, or else what was the point?

"Here." Zelda pulled the tray within arms reach and passed a cup to each of them. Groose started to move the hand on Loft's shoulder to take the cup, but Loft made a miserable sound and he put it back with a small smile.

Loft took his cup with both hands and held it against his chest as he peered inside. Pieces of the yellow fruit were floating in the water, and it had a slight tint to it.

"What is this?" Loft asked.

"My newest creation: lemonade! I took the lemon fruit and cut it up and put its juice in water. I even added a little sugar. Try it!" Groose explained. His ears wiggled with excitement and his smile was as wide as it got.

Zelda hesitantly poked at the fruit floating in her cup. Loft shrugged and took a sip.

His face immediately scrunched as his taste buds were attacked by the sour liquid. Loft struggled to swallow without coughing. Groose watched with wide, excited eyes.

"It's, uh... sour?" Loft said.

"I know, right!" Groose took a gulp of his drink and shook his head as he swallowed.

"You're not making me want to try this," Zelda said. She was looking at her cup like it was about to attack her.

Groose was too excited. Loft did not want to let him down. "Now that I know what to expect..." He took another sip. It was still sour, but not quite as jarring. The hint of sugar added a nice taste, complimented by the flavor of the lemon beneath the sourness.

"It's not bad," Loft decided.

Groose leaned down to peck a kiss on Loft's cheek. "I didn't think you'd like it."

Loft turned his head away to hide his blush and snuggled further into Groose's chest. "It's not bad."

[swagtastic-bougie-pompadour]

Happy Wednesday, champs! (Yes, even if you’re not a Paldean 🏆. You’re a champion at being you!)

Today, I’m coming at you with your very first parcel of Clife Advice! We’re gonna take a look at considerations when choosing Pokémon for your student life. (This post is assuming you’re #DormLife and not living in Los Platos or anywhere similar!)

First up: if you don’t have a Pokémon, we’ll offer you a starter! We’ve got Sprigatito, Fuecoco, and Quaxly! Their first forms are GREAT choices for dormitory life (yes, our rooms are ready for a little accidental “bringing the heat”!) and we’ve designed the rooms to even safely house your big old Skeledirge bud whenever they evolve. Quaxly is especially great for a water-type because they can live pretty well with the tubs you have and occasional trips to the river for enrichment! And Sprigatito just wants to lay out in a field from time to time. (Safety of your keyboard or any objects on ledges not guaranteed.)

If you’re looking to branch out after that though, we recommend considering the “three Ts”! Type! Temperament! And tonnage! (Or size, if you’re not trying to make a memorable catchphrase.)

Type isn’t everything! But it does inform the basics of Pokémon needs! Your Pokémon of certain types may struggle to coexist, like a Charmander next to a Snover! Poison types may prove too noxious or require constant cleaning and water-types may need more water than you can provide even with tank approval! (You do need a permit for that, BTW. We’ve had one too many “exploding Magikarp tanks” before. It’s happened to me! 💥🐟) Generally, your best bets are Normal, Grass, Fairy, and Psychic types, environmentally. Dark types can vary, but that leads us to…

Temperament! If you aren’t constantly battling, you’re going to want a Pokémon that won’t eat your homework for lack of stimulation. Or worse, pick dorm fights with your or others’ Pokémon! Everstones can be your friend here for Pokémon that might evolve into more dangerous forms, but also, do your reading! Now’s also a good point to mention that some Pokémon may require pack bonding or extra friends, like Plusle!

Finally… tonnage! Please. Our dorms are only so big. We are not Steelix sized. It is possible to safely keep these Pokémon, but they will require constant field trips to free-roaming areas and cannot be let out in school grounds apart from the Schoolyard, which might be difficult if you’re not on the Battle Track!

Know yourself, know your limits, and know your Pokémon, and you can have a happy life with your team here at Naranja-Uva! Miss Dendra is an excellent resource if you have additional care and keeping questions too!