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#fulfilling whims and things…
ladybugsimblr · 8 months
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Gavin, sir. Please go to bed. Everyone is asleep... now. You didn’t and won’t hear a thing.
And whatever is worse than “demon time” is what Q was on. Definitely still vacation behavior 😅
And B, you didn’t have to give in that fast girl. I mean I get it, but he didn’t even have to ask twice. Actually I don’t think he ever asks twice smh.
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lesbiancolumbo · 4 months
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It’s kind of funny that the adults who love YA and comic books and Disney and other media for kids also, apparently, want desperately to be taken seriously by other grown ups. (You know, treated like an adult.) Like ‘yes, I only read Harry Potter fanfic and watch cartoons, but damnit Barbara don’t you patronize me! I demand to be treated with the same respect as any other adult baby!’ (I’d say ‘have a drink and calm down’ but my bottle warmer is on the blink.) Does the defensiveness come from a place of insecurity or do they genuinely believe that other adults are lying when they claim to enjoy adult things? Like do they think all adults would secretly prefer to watch CocoMelon instead of HBO and play with Lego rather than have sex, but gosh darn it most grups just won’t admit it?
i think they just never grew out of the child mentality that adults are boring and lame unlike them, this fifteen year old moron, the coolest person they know (because they know like 20 people). they see adulthood as going to bed at 9 PM and having to work and do taxes and chores and watching war documentaries and reading nonfiction. it just smacks of arrested development to me, but i also like don't take that kind of adult seriously and i definitely don't put any stock in their opinions on books, films, etc., and will tell them so lol.
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lonely-dog-song · 4 months
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waiting mode for ever
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grinchwrapsupreme · 1 year
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Made the ghosts in the sims and its going great except pat and the captain keep getting so caught up in conversation that i have to force them to toilet, sleep, and bathe
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hoshifighting · 3 months
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Urban Hearts, Rural Souls
"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"
Word Count: 10.6k
Synopsis: Where you are a Rich Girl abruptly sent to the countryside by your worried parents, there, you meet Mingyu, the farmer's son, who introduces you to something that defies the shallow trappings of city living.
Reader! Rich Spoiled Girl X Farmer! Mingyu
Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, oral (f. and m. receiving), intense sex, crying, dirty talk, cum eating, g'spot stimulation, wet pussy and etc.
Wrapped in designer clothes from head to toe, strutting around in those expensive heels like you owned the world. And maybe you did, in a way.  You were the kind of girl who had it all – overpriced clothes hanging in your closet like trophies, expensive cars parked in the driveway like shiny jewels, and a life filled to the brim with luxury. Your every whim was catered to, your desires instantly fulfilled with the swipe of a credit card.
But behind all the glitz and glamour, there was a gnawing emptiness that even the shiniest baubles couldn't fill. Your parents, bless their worried hearts, watched from the sidelines, knowing they had a hand in creating this materialistic monster. They'd given you everything you ever wanted, but maybe they didn't realize they were also giving you a one-way ticket to blindness.
You were always craving the next big thing, the newest gadget, the trendiest outfit. But in your quest for more, you lost sight of what truly mattered. Genuine connections, simple pleasures, the beauty of a sunset—those things seemed to fade into the background against the allure of luxury.
Your parents, busy with their own pursuits of wealth and success, rarely saw you at home. They provided you with everything money could buy, but as time passed, they began to realize that they had unwittingly traded your presence for material possessions.
"Sorry, I can't go to this dinner, I already promised my friend that I would club with her tonight," you said, leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.
"Sorry, I'm going shopping today," you said, looking at yourself in the mirror, leaving and closing the door again.
"Sorry, I'm going to hang out with Jisoo today," you said, once more leaving the keys of a Porsche in your hands, closing the door.
Your parents tried to intervene, gently nudging you towards a more meaningful existence. But you brushed off their concerns, too wrapped up in your own world of excess to see the wisdom in their words. After all, why settle for less when you could have it all?
Yet, deep down, a small voice whispered that maybe there was more to life than the next shopping spree or exclusive event. Maybe true happiness wasn't found in the gleam of a diamond or the purr of a sports car engine.
There you were, lounging by the pool with your phone in hand, completely engrossed in the digital medias. The sun beat down, casting shimmering reflections on the water's surface as you scrolled and tapped away, oblivious to everything else around you.
Suddenly, your mom emerged from the doorway, her expression serious yet gentle as she made her way towards you. She called out your name, her voice cutting through the haze of your screen-induced trance. With a sigh, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from your phone, realizing that this was no ordinary interruption.
She explained that it was time for a chat, a real one, away from the distractions of social media and status updates. You hesitated for a moment.
Eventually, you acquiesced, dragging yourself out of the pool and wrapping a robe around your damp skin. As you followed your mom back into the house, you couldn't shake the feeling of apprehension that settled in the pit of your stomach. 
You found your parents sitting at the dining table, their expressions unusually serious. With a nonchalant air, you plopped down in front of them, taking a leisurely sip of your juice.
Your dad cleared his throat, his tone carrying a weight of concern. "Sweetheart, we need to talk. Your mom and I have been growing increasingly worried about you."
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Here we go again, you thought, another lecture about how you only cared about material things.
Your mom chimed in, her voice gentle but firm. "We know you might not like what we have to say, but we truly believe it's for the best."
You raised an eyebrow, already anticipating the worst. "Let me guess, you're cutting off my credit cards?"
Your dad let out a humorless scoff. "As tempting as that may sound, no. But we have decided that it's time for you to take a break from this lifestyle. You need to step back and reassess what truly matters in life."
You couldn't help but scoff, the corners of your mouth twisting into a mocking smile. "Let me guess, you're sending me to some remote island resort to 'find myself'?"
Your parents exchanged a glance before your dad spoke again, his tone grave. "Actually, we've arranged for you to spend some time in the countryside. In the home of some dear friends of ours. It'll be a chance for you to unwind, disconnect, and maybe gain some perspective."
You leaned back in your chair, disbelief written all over your face. "You've got to be kidding me. You're seriously sending me to some rustic farm in the middle of nowhere?"
But as you looked into their unwavering gazes, you realized they weren't joking. They were dead serious about this. And suddenly, the prospect of trading designer labels for mud-stained boots didn't seem so far-fetched after all.
Your dad's words hit you like a ton of bricks. "Wait, you're telling me you didn't even mention this earlier?" you exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. "This has to be some kind of joke, right? You can tell me now."
But before your dad could respond, his phone rang, interrupting the conversation. As he answered, you stood there dumbfounded, watching him hurriedly talk to the person on the other end.
"Oh hello, yes yes, she's traveling today. She's getting ready. Thank you so much, Mr. Kim," your dad said into the phone before hanging up.
You felt a rush of panic as reality set in. They were serious. You were really being whisked away to some countryside retreat without so much as a warning.
Rushing to your room, you flung open your largest suitcase, hastily stuffing it with your best clothes, your mind still reeling from the sudden turn of events. Designer dresses and high heels made way for practical boots and sturdy jackets, a stark departure from your usual wardrobe.
You barely had time to indulge in one last comforting soak in your oversized tub before the reality of the situation hit you like a splash of cold water. Sitting on the couch, arms crossed, your suitcase stood by your side like a silent sentinel.
Despite your indignation and discomfort with the whole situation, you knew deep down that your parents only wanted what was best for you. But seriously, how did they think this was a good idea? Just the thought of mosquitoes made you shiver involuntarily.
As you heard the honk from the driveway, you begrudgingly grabbed your suitcase and followed your parents to the door. Stepping outside, you were met with a man who greeted you with a warm smile, remarking on how much you had grown. He was the friend of your father, the same one you had seen in old family photos.
Despite your lingering resentment, you treated him with the utmost politeness. After all, he was just following your parents' instructions, and he seemed genuinely kind.
Your parents bid you farewell, their seriousness about the whole ordeal evident in their expressions. But before you could climb into the car, your mom stopped you, snatching your phone from your hands. You scoffed incredulously, "What, no phone too?"
She simply nodded, stating matter-of-factly, "There's no internet anyway."
With a frustrated sigh, you allowed yourself to be pushed into the car, the middle-aged man already taking your suitcase and stowing it in the trunk. As the car pulled away from the driveway, you couldn't help but wonder what kind of wilderness adventure awaited you in the countryside.
As the car rolled along the winding countryside roads, Mr. Kim struck up a conversation with you, perhaps sensing your unease.
"So, your parents tell me you're not too thrilled about this little getaway," he began, his tone light and friendly.
You glanced at him, unsure of how much to reveal. "Yeah, you could say that. I'm more of a city person, you know? This whole countryside thing isn't really my scene."
He chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I figured as much. But hey, sometimes it's good to shake things up a bit, right? You might find you enjoy it more than you think."
You raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I highly doubt that."
Undeterred, he continued, asking you about your life in the city, your favorite hangouts, and the luxuries you were accustomed to. With each response, he laughed, seemingly amused by the stark contrast between your world and the one you were about to enter.
"You know," he said with a grin, "sometimes it's the unexpected experiences that end up being the most memorable. Who knows, you might discover a whole new side of yourself out here."
As the car rumbled along the road for what felt like hours, the familiar hum of the city fading into the distance, you watched as the asphalt gradually transformed into a dusty dirt road. The scenery changed from towering skyscrapers to vast expanses of green fields and rolling hills.
Finally, the car came to a stop, and the man turned to you with a smile. "Well, we're here," he announced cheerfully.
You peered out the window, taking in your surroundings. Before you stretched acres of farmland, dotted with quaint wooden buildings and surrounded by lush vegetation.
This was certainly a far cry from the luxury hotels and high-rise penthouses you were accustomed to, but there was a certain allure to its simplicity that intrigued you.
Mr. Kim gets out of the car, saying he's going to ask for help with your suitcases, and disappears into the house.
Stepping out of the car that had transported you from the city to the countryside, with a disdainful glance around, you smoothed down your summer dress and adjusted your sunglasses, attempting to shield yourself from the glaring sun.
Just as you were about to take a step forward, your designer boots caught on a loose cobblestone, and you stumbled clumsily, arms flailing wildly as you tried to regain your balance.
With a loud yelp, you crashed ungracefully into a pile of hay, your dress now adorned with specks of dirt and straw. Uttering a few curses under your breath, you began to clean yourself off, feeling thoroughly irritated by the whole debacle.
To your surprise, you heard a sincere laugh echoing from somewhere nearby. "Smooth entrance." came the amused voice.
Startled, you looked up to see a tall, muscular guy leaning against the porch, clad in a simple white tank top and worn jeans. He had the rugged look of someone who spent their days working the land, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at his false amused expression.
"Very funny," you muttered, shooting him a withering glare as you brushed off the last of the hay from your dress.
The guy smirked at your retort, "Hey, don't blame me for your lack of grace," he teased, stepping closer to you.
You crossed your arms defensively, shooting back, "Well, don't blame me for your lack of fashion sense."
He chuckled, unfazed by your jab. "Fashion sense? Please. I'd take practicality over designer labels any day."
Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Easy for you to say when you probably haven't stepped foot in a city in years."
His smirk widened, and he tilted his head, challenging you. "And what's wrong with that? Country life has its perks, you know. Fresh air, wide open spaces... not to mention, real food."
You narrowed your eyes, feeling a surge of defiance. "Oh, please. I'll take a five-star restaurant over your farm-to-table nonsense any day."
With a shrug, he flashed you a knowing grin. "We'll see about that."
He furrows his eyebrows as he reaches for your suitcases, grunting slightly as he lifts them from the ground. "What the hell are you packing in here, bricks?" he mutters, struggling slightly under the weight. 
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his dramatics. With his broad shoulders and muscular arms, it was obvious he could easily handle the weight. But instead, he seemed intent on putting on a show of struggle.
As he hoisted the suitcases up, you glanced at his impressive physique, a stark contrast to your own slender frame. "Oh, I don't know," you replied casually, masking your amusement. "Maybe you're just not as strong as you think you are."
His expression darkened at your taunt, and you could practically see the steam coming out of his ears as he begrudgingly followed you towards the house. "Yeah, whatever," he muttered, his voice tinged with annoyance.
You couldn't resist a small smirk as you walked ahead, enjoying the satisfaction of getting the last word in.
As you approach the quaint farmhouse, nestled amidst the serene countryside, you're greeted by a picturesque scene straight out of a storybook. Lush greenery and vibrant foliage surround the charming abode, a small porch extends from the front of the house, its weathered floorboards worn smooth by years of use, a few well-worn rocking chairs moving with the breeze. 
You glanced around the bedroom, taking note of the meticulously prepared bed with towels neatly arranged on top. Despite your initial skepticism, it was clear that some effort had been put into making you feel welcome.
Mingyu stood beside you, his expression unreadable as he watched your reaction. For a moment, there was silence between the two of you, the air thick with tension.
Just then, Mr. Kim appeared in the doorway, a warm smile on his face. "Ah, I see you've met my son, Mingyu," he said, placing a hand on Mingyu's shoulder. "He'll be helping out around here during your stay."
Mingyu flashed you a half-hearted smile, his expression tinged with a hint of mockery. "Yeah, we had the great pleasure of meeting earlier," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
You raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on your lips. "Oh yes, it was truly unforgettable," you replied, matching his mocking tone. "I especially enjoyed the part where I ended up covered in hay."
Mr. Kim chuckled at the banter between you and his son, clearly amused by the exchange. "I'm sure you two will get along just fine," he said with a knowing smile, before leaving you to settle in.
Feeling a bit lost and unsure of what to do with yourself, you decided to head back to the living room. As you entered, you spotted Mingyu in the kitchen, busy mixing something on the stove, while a woman arranged antique stamped dishes on the table.
Her warm smile drew your attention, and you couldn't help but admire her grace as she went about her tasks. When she noticed your presence, she immediately set aside her cooking apron and approached you, enveloping you in a tight hug.
You returned the gesture, feeling a sense of warmth and comfort wash over you in her embrace. She introduced herself as Mrs. Kim, and her genuine compliment about your appearance made you blush, a shy smile tugging at your lips.
Before you could respond, you caught Mingyu's glance from across the room. When your eyes met his, he quickly looked away, returning his focus to the task at hand.
Feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected attention, you cleared your throat and glanced around the room, searching for something to say. "Thank you, Mrs. Kim" 
Ah, but you missed your 16-seat table. Your silvered forks and knives…
She beamed at your words, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Oh, it's nothing, dear. Just a simple meal to welcome you to our home," she said warmly, patting your arm affectionately.
Despite your initial frustration and discomfort with the abrupt change in scenery and the unfamiliar accents surrounding you, you couldn't deny the genuine warmth and hospitality of the Kims. As you observed Mrs. Kim bustling around the kitchen and Mingyu's earnest efforts to make you feel welcome, a sense of guilt began to gnaw at you.
As Mrs. Kim served you a plate of food, you couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed by the array of dishes laid out before you. Unsure of what to pick, you glanced around nervously, feeling the weight of everyone's expectant gazes upon you.
Taking a tentative first bite, the food was simple yet bursting with deliciousness, each bite infused with a warmth and comfort that you hadn't realized you were craving.
Your eyes widened in surprise as you savored the food, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "Wow, this is really good," you exclaimed, unable to hide your delight.
The Kims exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening at your enthusiastic reaction. It was clear that they were pleased to see you enjoying their home-cooked meal.
As you continued to eat, you found yourself digging in with gusto, savoring every bite as if it were the most delicious thing you had ever tasted. It was a stark contrast to the fast food and gourmet dishes you were accustomed to in the city, and yet, there was something undeniably special about this homemade meal made with love.
Mingyu and his dad shared subtle, satisfied smiles, their eyes twinkling with amusement as they watched you devouring the food with such enthusiasm. It was clear that they were pleased to see you embracing their culinary traditions and finding joy in the simple pleasures, for the first time? 
As you rolled up your sleeves and began to help with the dishes, Mingyu appeared at your side with a teasing smirk. "Well, I'm surprised to see you know how to wash a plate," he remarked, his tone laced with playful incredulity.
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his playful jab. "Oh, please. It's not like I've never washed a dish before," you retorted, scrubbing a plate with more force than necessary.
Mingyu chuckled at your defensive tone, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I'm just surprised, is all. Figured someone with nails as pristine as yours would be afraid to get them dirty," he teased, gesturing to your perfectly manicured hands.
You shot him a pointed look, a hint of irritation creeping into your voice. "My nails will be just fine, thank you very much." you replied curtly.
After finishing up with the dishes, you managed to steal a quiet moment for yourself. Making your way to the bathroom, you were pleasantly surprised to find that there was hot water available, despite being in the midst of a countryside farm. And as you drifted off to sleep, the sound of crickets chirping outside lulling you into a peaceful slumber.
As the sun streamed through the window, bathing the room in a warm glow, you slowly stirred from your sleep, feeling more refreshed than you had in ages. The sound of a rooster crowing in the distance filled the air, a gentle reminder that you were far from the hustle and bustle of city life.
Just as you were about to stretch, you heard a familiar voice at your door. Groaning inwardly, you sat up, blinking away the remnants of sleep as you focused on the figure standing in the doorway.
There stood Mingyu, holding a pair of buckets in his hands. "Hey, sleepyhead," he called out, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "Time to rise and shine. We've got a cow to milk."
You blinked in disbelief, your mind struggling to process the request. Milk a cow? Surely he must be joking. But as you glanced out the window and saw the sun rising higher in the sky, and the way he stood at the door, you realized that he was serious.
With a resigned sigh, you pushed back the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, steeling yourself for the unfamiliar task ahead. 
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Mingyu's teasing remark as he caressed the cow with practiced ease. "Yeah, well, I figured I'd take precautions after yesterday's little incident," you retorted, gesturing to your brightly colored galoshes.
Mingyu chuckled at your response, shaking his head in amusement. "Fair enough," he conceded, his eyes twinkling with laughter. "But I've got to admit, you look a bit out of place here on the farm."
You huffed indignantly, feeling a pang of annoyance at his comment. "And what exactly am I supposed to look like?" you shot back, crossing your arms defensively. "Peppa Pig jumping in muddy puddles?"
Mingyu's laughter rang out loud and clear, the sound echoing through the barn as he shook his head incredulously. "Hey, I'm just saying, those boots aren't exactly farm chic," he replied, unable to hide his amusement.
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again, instead choosing to focus on the task at hand. As Mingyu nodded towards the bucket under the cow and the small stool nearby, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the challenge ahead.
As you continued to milk the cow with gentle, tentative strokes, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your cautious approach. "If you keep going at this pace, we'll be here until evening," he teased, shaking his head in mock exasperation.
You couldn't help but sulk at his teasing, feeling a pang of self-doubt creeping in. "I'm just afraid of hurting her," you admitted softly, glancing down at the cow's udders with concern.
Mingyu rolled his eyes playfully, squatting down behind you and gently taking your hands in his. "Here, let me show you," he murmured, his voice low and soothing as he guided your movements.
As his warm hands enveloped yours, you felt a jolt of electricity shoot through you, you couldn't help but be drawn to the way his chest pressed against your back, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered instructions. Lost in the sensation of his touch, you found yourself forgetting about the task at hand, your focus shifting entirely to him. 
"See? It's not so hard, is it?" Mingyu's voice broke through your thoughts, his tone gentle and encouraging.
Oh, it sure is, with those arms around you.
You nodded slowly, still feeling a bit flustered by the unexpected closeness between you. "Yeah, I guess not."
As you watched the chickens with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, your mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water, unable to find the words to express your uncertainty.
Noticing your hesitation, Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at your predicament. "Looks like it's time to collect some eggs," he remarked, gesturing towards the coop with a smirk.
Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself for the task ahead and stepped into the coop, determined to prove that you were capable of handling farm chores. But as soon as you entered, the chickens seemed to sense your unease and began to peck at your legs and feet, their sharp beaks causing you to yelp in surprise.
Jumping back in alarm, you flailed your arms wildly, trying to fend off the feathery assailants as Mingyu looked on, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, that's one way to get the eggs," he quipped, unable to suppress his laughter at your antics.
Feeling flustered and more than a little embarrassed, you quickly retreated from the coop, shooting Mingyu a sheepish look. "I think I'll leave the egg collecting to the experts," you muttered, feeling defeated.
Mingyu grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he watched you dust yourself off. "Don't worry, princess, I'll take care of it," he teased, reaching for the basket and heading towards the coop with a knowing smirk.
Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle at the sight of you sprawled out on the sofa, your face flushed from the sun and your body looking utterly exhausted. His mom joined in with a soft giggle, amused by your worn-out appearance.
"Looks like someone had quite the day," Mingyu remarked with a grin, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he observed you from across the room.
You let out a tired groan, your limbs feeling heavy and your muscles aching from the day's activities. "I feel like I've run a marathon," you admitted with a weary smile, unable to hide the exhaustion in your voice.
Mingyu's mom nodded in understanding, her eyes filled with warmth and affection as she looked at you. "It takes some getting used to, but you'll adjust," she reassured you, her voice gentle and reassuring.
Mingyu flashed you a reassuring smile, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of admiration. "Yeah, you'll get used to it," he echoed, his voice soft and reassuring.
As you lay on the sofa, your mind drifted to thoughts of your friends back in the city. You could already imagine their laughter and teasing when they heard about your countryside misadventures.
The image of them laughing at the idea of you "touching cow's tits" made you cringe, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of embarrassment at the thought of being the subject of their jokes. And the mental image of you being chased by chickens while wearing bright yellow galoshes instead of your usual designer boots was almost too much to bear.
As you stood face to face with the towering horse, a surge of determination coursed through you. You were determined to prove to Mingyu that you were capable of handling any challenge that came your way, no matter how unfamiliar or daunting.
With a defiant glare, you met Mingyu's gaze head-on, refusing to back down from the challenge before you. "Did you know that horseback riding is expensive enough for me to know?" you retorted, your voice laced with confidence.
Mingyu raised an eyebrow at your defiant remark, his hands on his hips as he regarded you with a mixture of amusement and skepticism. "Is this a dare?" he asked, a hint of challenge in his tone.
You smirked, your eyes gleaming with determination. "It's not a dare if I'm going to win," you replied boldly, your confidence unwavering.
Mingyu chuckled at your bravado, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, we'll see about that," he replied with a smirk of his own. "But I'll have you know, a farmer can ride way better than a rich girly who did hipstism."
As you settled into the saddle and urged the horse forward, you felt a surge of exhilaration coursing through your veins. With each powerful stride of the horse beneath you, you felt a sense of connection and freedom unlike anything you had ever experienced.
Glancing back at Mingyu, who was hot on your heels, you couldn't help but smirk at the competitive gleam in his eye. With a determined flick of the reins, you urged your horse to pick up the pace, the wind whipping through your hair as you galloped across the long field.
Feeling the rhythm of the horse's movements beneath you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of exhilaration as you rode faster and faster, the thrill of the chase driving you forward.
But as you approached the towering mount of straw ahead, Mingyu's voice rang out behind you, announcing the end of the race. "This is it!" he shouted, his voice carrying over the wind.
You turned to face him with a confident smile, your eyes sparkling with determination. "Bet," you replied, your voice filled with certainty as you prepared to take on the challenge ahead.
s you crossed the finish line first, a victorious grin spread across your face. You patted the horse affectionately, thanking it for its speed and cooperation, a playful twinkle in your eye as if expecting a response from the animal.
Mingyu appeared right behind you, his expression a mixture of surprise and begrudging admiration. He glanced at you, clearly not wanting to give the impression that he was impressed, but failing miserably.
You couldn't help but laugh at his unsuccessfully concealed expression, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "Looks like I win," you teased, unable to resist the opportunity to gloat a little.
Mingyu rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Beginner's luck," he muttered, trying to brush off his defeat with a nonchalant shrug.
But you could see through his facade, and you knew that deep down, he was impressed by your riding skills. "Sure, keep telling yourself that," you replied with a playful wink, reveling in your victory.
As the days turned into weeks, Mingyu and his parents couldn't help but notice a change in you. At first, they were surprised by your transformation. They had expected you to grow restless and bored, eager to return to the comforts of city life. But instead, they watched in awe as you flourished in your new surroundings.
While you may have initially viewed your newfound chores as a means to an end, a way to expedite your return to the comforts of home, you couldn't deny the genuine joy and fulfillment you experienced in caring for the animals and immersing yourself in farm activities.
With each passing day, as you spent more time in the stable and the fields, you discovered a sense of peace and contentment that you had never known before. 
Whenever Mingyu's parents were away in the center of the countryside, Mingyu took it upon himself to keep you entertained and engaged, determined to show you the lighter side of farm life and ensure that you didn't find the countryside boring.
Sometimes, he would teach you how to fish in the nearby stream, laughing as you fumbled with the bait and giggling as you shrieked with delight whenever you felt a tug on the line. From impromptu horseback races across the fields to makeshift picnics under the shade of a sprawling oak tree, Mingyu made sure that there was never a dull moment when you were together.
As the rain poured down outside, Mingyu looked at you with a mischievous grin, his eyes dancing with excitement. "Hey, since we're stuck inside anyway, how about we play a game of hide and seek?" he suggested, his voice filled with enthusiasm.
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in surprise at his suggestion. Hide and seek? Wasn't that a game for children? You hadn't played it in years, not since you were a kid back in the city.
"But isn't that game a bit... childish?" you asked, your tone laced with skepticism. After all, hide and seek seemed like such a simple and silly game, hardly befitting someone of your age and sophistication.
Mingyu laughed at your hesitation, shaking his head in amusement. "Come on, it'll be fun! Besides, it's not like we have anything else to do while we're stuck inside," he replied, his eyes sparkling with excitement.
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you wanted to indulge in such a childish pastime. But as you glanced out the window at the dreary weather outside, you couldn't help but feel a spark of curiosity and excitement at the prospect of a little indoor adventure.
With a reluctant smile, you finally relented, nodding your head in agreement. "Alright, fine. But you owe me if I end up getting bored," you teased, unable to hide the hint of amusement in your voice.
Mingyu grinned at your acceptance, his eyes alight with excitement. "Deal," he replied.
As Mingyu's voice counted down from ten, you dashed around the house, your heart racing with excitement as you searched for the perfect hiding spot. His laughter echoed through the halls as he called out the numbers, his anticipation building with each passing moment.
Finally, you found it—a small space between the wardrobe and the wall in your room. It seemed like the perfect hiding spot, tucked away from sight with just enough room for you to squeeze into. With a quick glance over your shoulder to make sure no one was watching, you darted into the hiding place and pressed your back against the wall, your heart pounding with excitement.
As you waited in the darkness, the sound of Mingyu's footsteps grew closer, his laughter echoing through the room as he searched for you. You held your breath, trying to stifle the giggles threatening to escape as his footsteps drew nearer and nearer.
Suddenly, you heard a soft gasp as Mingyu's hand brushed against the wardrobe, his fingers grazing the edge of your hiding spot. Your heart skipped a beat as you held your breath, hoping he wouldn't find you.
As Mingyu's hand brushed against your shoulder and his fingers wrapped around your arm, pulling you out of your hiding place, you couldn't help but let out a startled gasp as your body collided with his. His laughter filled the room, echoing in the darkness, but you couldn't find it in you to join in.
"Sulking again, huh?" Mingyu teased, his voice warm and playful as he wrapped his other arm around you, pulling you close. 
You rolled your eyes in response, trying to hide the smile that threatened to tug at your lips despite your best efforts to maintain your facade of annoyance. "I don't sulk," you protested weakly, but even to your own ears, the protest sounded half-hearted.
Mingyu chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the room as he held you close. "Sure you don't," he replied, his tone teasing but affectionate. 
Suddenly, you felt his hands on your face, his fingers tracing your features with a gentle touch that made your heart race. In the darkness, his touch seemed to intensify, his caress becoming more intimate as he explored the contours of your face with a tenderness that took your breath away.
As Mingyu's lips met yours, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away as you melted into his embrace. His lips were soft and warm against yours, sending a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins as he pressed your back against the wardrobe, his hand pulling you closer by your waist.
With a soft moan, you found yourself responding eagerly to his touch, your hands tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss. Mingyu groaned against your lips, the sound sending a shiver of pleasure down your cunt as his tongue danced with yours.
As Mingyu's lips trailed down to your neck, igniting a trail of fire with each kiss, you couldn't help but moan softly, your body arching towards him in response to the overwhelming sensations coursing through you.
"M-Mingyu…"
"I can feel how much you want me," he continued, his voice low and seductive. "You're practically melting against me, begging for my touch."
His words sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you surrendered yourself to the pleasure of his touch.
"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.
His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve and contour with a hunger that matched your own. As he pressed his body against yours, you could feel the heat radiating from him, the intensity of his desire burning bright in the darkness.
As his fingers brushed against your hardened nipple through your top, you couldn't help but let out a soft gasp of pleasure, the sensation sending waves of heat coursing through you.
Feeling your reaction, Mingyu hissed in response, his desire evident in the husky tone of his voice. "I need to see you," he murmured urgently, his hands moving to lift your top, his fingers tracing the contours of your body in the darkness. "This darkness isn't helping."
With a nod of understanding, you waited patiently as he disappeared into the darkness, the anticipation building with each passing moment. And then, just as suddenly as he had left, he reappeared with two lanterns, the warm glow casting a soft light over the room.
And there you were, already naked and sitting on the bed, your body bathed in the soft light of the lanterns. Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise, a low hum of appreciation escaping his lips as he took in the sight before him.
"You're naughty," he murmured, his voice husky with desire as he approached you slowly. The warmth of the lanterns illuminated every curve and contour of your body, casting a mesmerizing glow that left him spellbound.
As the room filled with light, you couldn't help but catch your breath at the sight of Mingyu standing before you, his features illuminated in the golden glow of the lanterns. His eyes burned with desire as he looked at you, his gaze traveling over your body with hunger and longing.
With a soft smile, he stepped closer, the warmth of the lanterns enveloping you both. "Now I can see every inch of you," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. 
s Mingyu's hands deftly removed his shirt, tossing it aside with a casual flick of his wrist, your eyes were drawn to the sight of his toned, muscular body illuminated by the warm glow of the lanterns. His hard work and dedication were evident in the way his muscles rippled beneath his skin, sending a shiver of desire coursing through you.
Instinctively, your legs pressed together, the heat pooling between them as you felt the unmistakable arousal building within you. Mingyu's presence was intoxicating, his sheer physicality leaving you breathless and eager for more.
Unable to resist the temptation any longer, you reached out to him, your hands tracing the contours of his chest and abdomen with a hungry urgency. His skin was warm beneath your touch, his muscles firm and taut as you explored every inch of him with a sense of wonder and reverence.
As your fingers trailed lower, tracing the outline of his hardened arousal, a low groan escaped Mingyu's lips, his desire mirroring your own.
As you untangled his belt and lowered his jeans, your desperation was palpable, your need for him evident in every movement. Mingyu watched you with a knowing smile, his lip caught between his teeth as he observed your eagerness.
With a sense of anticipation building between you, you got down on your knees before him, your eyes pleading as you lowered his underwear, revealing his thick, pulsing cock. It lay heavy on your face, the weight of it sending a thrill of excitement coursing through you.
Mingyu's breath caught in his throat as he watched you, his desire growing with each passing moment. "That's it, baby," he murmured huskily, his voice thick with lust. "Show me how much you want it."
With a slow, provocative motion, you began to suck on the tip of his cock, teasing him with your tongue as you savored the taste of him on your lips. Mingyu groaned in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair as he urged you on.
But then, with a sudden shift in his demeanor, Mingyu's voice took on a commanding tone. "Enough teasing," he growled, his gaze dark with desire. "I want you to suck it, all of it. Show me how good you can make me feel."
As you obediently lowered your head, taking all of Mingyu's length into your mouth, you could feel him groaning in pleasure above you. His hands tightened in your hair, gripping it firmly as if he were holding onto reins, his fingers wrapping around your locks like a lasso.
With each deep thrust, he urged you on, his voice thick with desire as he commanded you to take him deeper. "That's it," he moaned, the sound reverberating through your body as you continued to obey his every whim. "Just like that, baby, all the way in."
As you relaxed your jaw, allowing Mingyu's thick cock to press against the back of your throat, a wave of pleasure surged through him, causing his knees to falter for a moment. But you remained steadfast, your determination unwavering as you held your breath and took him deeper, allowing him to penetrate you fully.
Mingyu's grip on your hair tightened as he let out a guttural groan of pleasure, his hips bucking involuntarily as he was overcome by the intense sensation of your throat enveloping him. The feeling of your warm, wet mouth engulfing him completely sent waves of ecstasy coursing through his body, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume him whole.
With each deep thrust, he felt himself losing control, his desire mounting to dizzying heights as he surrendered himself completely to the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. And as you continued to take him deeper, your throat accommodating his girth with ease, he knew that he was on the brink of an explosion unlike anything he had ever experienced before.
As Mingyu pulled on the lasso of your hair, halting just before he reached his climax, you let out a whimper of anticipation, your body trembling with need. He pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, spreading your legs apart as he positioned himself between them. Your ass lifted off the bed, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you waited for his next move.
With a hungry look in his eyes, Mingyu dropped to his knees before you, his tongue darting out to lick a fat stripe along your slit. A moan escaped your lips as pleasure shot through you, your body arching off the bed in response. "Mmm... yes," you murmured, the sensation overwhelming as he continued to lap at your pussy with fervent eagerness.
Mingyu cooed softly as he tasted you, his tongue exploring every inch of your wetness with a skillful precision that left you dizzy with pleasure. "You taste so good," he whispered, his voice low and husky as he lavished attention on your sensitive folds. 
As Mingyu sucked on your clit, bobbing his head with a fervent eagerness that sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, you couldn't help but moan loudly, the sensation overwhelming you completely. "Ohh... yesss," you cried out, your voice filled with unrestrained passion as he worked his magic on you.
He held back a smirk as he felt your cunt throbbing with the approach of your orgasm, knowing that he had you right where he wanted you. With a wicked grin, he doubled down on his efforts, sucking your whole pussy hard, his tongue lapping at your juices with an insatiable hunger.
The intensity of his ministrations pushed you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as the orgasm washed over you with a force that left you breathless. Mingyu smiled triumphantly as he felt you come embarrassingly fast, your moans filling the room with the sweet sound of your pleasure.
As Mingyu laid you down properly on the bed, he gazed into your eyes with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. His voice was low and husky as he asked how much you wanted him to fuck you, and you could barely think straight, your mind clouded with desire.
With your orgasm still pulsing through your body, you almost drunkenly replied that you wanted him a lot, your words slurred with pleasure. Mingyu's lips curled into a wicked grin as he heard your response, his eyes smoldering with lust as he leaned in closer.
"And how much do you want this farmer to fuck you?" he murmured, his voice dripping with desire as he teased you with his words. The hint of his country accent sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through you, your body quivering with need.
You rolled your hips instinctively, searching for his cock, your movements desperate and needy. Mingyu chuckled softly at your eagerness, his hands roaming over your body possessively as he continued to taunt you with his dirty talk.
With a whimper of desire, you opened your mouth in an "o" of longing, unable to resist the overwhelming urge to feel him deep inside you. "A lot," you gasped, your voice trembling with need. "I want it... a lot... please..."
Mingyu's cock lay heavy against your belly, the sight of it making your breath catch in your throat. He looked at you with a wicked grin, his eyes burning with desire as he teased you with the promise of what was to come.
"Do you want my cock right here?" he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "Inside of this pretty little pussy of yours?"
You could only nod eagerly, your body trembling with anticipation as you gazed up at him with lust-filled eyes. "Yes," you whispered breathlessly, your voice barely above a moan. "Please, Mingyu... I need it... I need you inside me..."
Mingyu's grin widened at your response, his desire reaching a fever pitch as he positioned himself between your legs, ready to claim you as his own. With a primal growl, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely with his throbbing cock as you cried out in ecstasy.
As Mingyu kissed you with a hunger that matched your own, you cried out in pleasure, feeling your pussy clenching tighter around his throbbing cock with each thrust. Your hands roamed over his back, feeling every ridge and muscle beneath his skin as he moved with a primal intensity that drove you wild with desire.
Suddenly, he took his cock out and pushed back inside you with all his force, causing your head to be thrown back in ecstasy. The sensation of him filling you so completely, stretching you to your limits, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole.
Mingyu's gaze locked with yours, his eyes boring into your soul as tears streamed down your cheeks, your body trembling with the intensity of his thrusts. He leaned in close, his voice low and husky as he whispered filthy words that sent shivers down your spine.
"You like that, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as he continued to pound into you with relentless force. "You like feeling my cock splitting you in half, don't you, baby?"
You could only whimper in response, your pussy clenching tightly around him at his words, sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you. Mingyu stuttered for a moment, surprised by the intensity of your reaction, before letting out a low chuckle.
"Never had it this good before, huh?" he teased, his voice dripping with satisfaction as he watched you squirm beneath him. "And what about those boys from your city?" he taunted. "Do they fuck you this good? Huh?"
You shook your head vehemently, your legs trembling around his waist as you cried out in pleasure. "No," you screamed, the word torn from your lips in a primal moan. "They don't... ah!"
Mingyu grinned triumphantly at your response, his own pleasure mounting to dizzying heights as he continued to drive you wild with desire. With each powerful thrust, he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, determined to show you just how good it could be with a real man like him.
As Mingyu's cock pounded into you relentlessly, a white ring formed around his shaft, evidence of your overwhelming arousal. He looked down at you with a smirk, his voice low and husky as he taunted you with his words.
"Can you hear how wet you are, baby?" he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned in closer. "You're practically dripping for me."
You blushed furiously at his words, feeling a surge of embarrassment wash over you at the realization of just how turned on you were. But despite your embarrassment, you couldn't deny the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your veins, driving you to new heights of ecstasy with each thrust.
You bit your lip nervously, unable to form a coherent response as Mingyu's cock continued to pound into you with relentless determination. Your back arched involuntarily, your body betraying you with its desperate need for more.
Mingyu's hips plunged deep into you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body as you jolted, desperately reaching for his hand. He chuckled softly, his voice dripping with amusement as he teased you mercilessly.
"Oh, looks like I found it," he taunted, his thrusts growing harder and more relentless with each passing moment. "Right here... and here again. Is this where you want me, baby?"
You could only whimper in response, your mind consumed by the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. "I-I'm going to cum," you gasped, your voice thick with desire as your orgasm approached with dizzying speed.
Mingyu's hand tightened around yours, providing you with an anchor to hold onto as he continued to pound into you with an intensity that left you breathless. His hips worked deep against your G-spot, driving you closer and closer to the edge with each thrust.
"Come for me, baby," he whispered huskily, his voice laced with desire as he urged you on. "I want to feel you cumming around me."
As Mingyu noticed the way you tensed hard and squeezed his hand tightly, he could feel the intensity building within you. "You're going to cum so hard for me, baby"
And then, as if on cue, you let go, your body convulsing with the force of the orgasm that tore through you. Mingyu watched in awe as you came apart in his arms, your screams filling the room as you lost yourself completely to the pleasure.
"Fuck," he breathed, his voice hoarse with desire as he drank in the sight of you, your body trembling with ecstasy as you rode out the waves of pleasure. He didn't want to blink, didn't want to miss a single moment of the beautiful sight before him.
As your body finally relaxed, Mingyu withdrew himself from your swollen, sopping cunt. You looked up at him with a lazy smile, feeling completely satisfied but still hungry for more.
"Did you cum?" you asked, your voice laced with anticipation as you waited for his response.
Mingyu hesitated for a moment, but before he could answer, you cut him off with a mischievous grin, sticking your tongue out of your mouth playfully.
"Don't worry about that," he began, but you interrupted him, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you pleaded with him to cum for you.
"Come on, Mingyu," you urged, your voice dripping with desire. "I want to see you cum. I want to taste you on my tongue."
Mingyu's eyes widened in surprise at your boldness, but a wicked grin spread across his face as he realized just how much you wanted him. With a low growl of desire, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered his response.
"You're insatiable, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "But I like it. I like it a lot."
As Mingyu gently arranged your hair, he positioned himself so that his cock was within reach of your mouth. You eagerly complied, your saliva mixed with your own lubrication serving as the perfect medium for him to stroke his throbbing cock.
With his heavy tip resting on your tongue, you felt the anticipation building within you once again. Your lips parted as you watched him with hungry eyes, eager to taste him once more.
Mingyu groaned softly as he began to masturbate his cock, the sensation of your tongue and lips against his sensitive skin driving him crazy. With each stroke, he grew harder and thicker in your mouth, his arousal evident in the way his cock throbbed against your tongue.
You moaned softly around him, the vibrations sending shivers of pleasure coursing through his body as he continued to pleasure himself with your eager mouth. And as his release approached, Mingyu's movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he edged closer and closer to the brink.
Finally, with a low growl of pleasure, Mingyu reached the point of no return, his cock pulsating as he spilled his hot cum onto your waiting tongue. You eagerly swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him as he rode out the waves of his orgasm.
"I'm feeling so good," you murmur, a contented smile gracing your lips as you lay beside Mingyu.
"Do you?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with tenderness as he gazes at you.
You nod, feeling a warmth spreading through your body at his gentle touch. Mingyu brushes your hair away from your face, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin as he lays on his side, his eyes fixed on you with a look of adoration.
"Yeah," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper as you meet his gaze. "I feel amazing."
Mingyu smiles, his expression filled with affection as he leans in closer, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. The atmosphere feels incredibly comfortable, more intimate and peaceful than ever before.
You blinked, the soft morning light filtering through the curtains as you slowly roused from sleep, only to find yourself alone in bed. The warmth of Mingyu's big body, which had been so comforting throughout the night, was noticeably absent, leaving you with a sense of emptiness.
As you sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that the events of the previous night had been nothing more than a dream. But then, just as doubt began to creep in, the door swung open, and there stood Mingyu, shirtless and wearing only jeans, a tray of breakfast in his hands.
He flashed you a warm smile as he entered the room, the sight of him banishing any lingering doubts from your mind. "Good morning," he greeted you, his voice soft and filled with affection.
"Good morning," you replied, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you watched him approach. The sight of him, shirtless and bearing breakfast, made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth spread through you at the sight of him.
Mingyu set the tray down on the bedside table before climbing back into bed beside you, his warmth enveloping you once more. As you sat together, enjoying breakfast in each other's company.
In the middle of the afternoon, you was alone in your bedroom, Mrs. Kim appears with her phone, it was your parents, wanting to talk to you. You take the phone from Mrs. Kim with trembling hands, your heart racing with anticipation as you retreat to a secluded corner of the house. With bated breath, you answer the call, hoping against hope that it's your parents finally coming to rescue you from this unfamiliar place.
"Hello?" you say tentatively, the sound of your own voice echoing in your ears.
On the other end of the line, you hear your mother's voice, filled with concern and urgency. "Sweetheart, are you okay?" she asks, her tone fraught with worry.
You feel a surge of relief wash over you at the sound of her familiar voice. "Mom, it's me," you reply quickly, trying to keep your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. "I'm okay, but I really want to come home. Can you please come get me? I need to tell you something…"
There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line before your mother responds, her voice heavy with regret. "Honey, I'm sorry, but we can't come get you right now," she says, her words hitting you like a punch to the gut. "We need you to stay there for a little while longer."
Your heart sinks at her words, the sense of disappointment threatening to overwhelm you. "But why?" you ask, your voice cracking with emotion. "I don't understand."
Before you can say anything else, you hear a click on the other end of the line, signaling that the call has ended. With a heavy heart, you lower the phone from your ear and turn around, only to find Mingyu standing there, his expression hardened and unreadable.
You swallow hard, feeling a sense of unease settle over you as you meet his gaze. "Mingyu, I..." you begin, but he cuts you off with a curt shake of his head before turning and walking out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach.
You ran after him, your footsteps echoing in the stillness of the countryside as you desperately called out his name. But Mingyu didn't turn to look at you, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he continued walking towards the lagoon.
"Mingyu, please," you pleaded, your voice thick with emotion as you struggled to catch up to him. "Listen to me."
He finally stopped walking, but he still didn't turn to face you. Instead, he spoke with a tone of resignation, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I understand now," he said quietly. "You were just using me to pass the time until you could go home."
Your heart sank at his words, the guilt weighing heavily on your chest as tears welled up in your eyes. "No, Mingyu, that's not true," you insisted, your voice trembling with emotion.
"I... I care about you. What about yesterday? What we shared..."
But he cuts you off with a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. "Yesterday was a mistake," he says, his words like a knife to your heart. "It doesn't change the fact that you were never really here for me. You were just biding your time until you could leave."
Your mouth hung open in shock as Mingyu's words sliced through you like a blade, leaving you reeling with hurt and disbelief. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to comprehend his harsh accusations.
"That's mean!" you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with emotion. "I know I'm wrong, but you're being so mean right now!"
Mingyu's attention snapped back to you at the sound of your sobs, his heart clenching with regret as he watched the tears stream down your face. He hadn't meant to hurt you so deeply, but in his anger and frustration, his words had cut far deeper than he had intended.
For a moment, there was silence between you, the weight of Mingyu's harsh judgment hanging heavy in the air. And then, finally, you spoke again, your voice barely above a whisper.
"It was a mistake then?" you asked, your words barely audible over the sound of your own ragged breathing. 
Mingyu hesitates, his own emotions swirling inside him as he struggles to find the right words. "No, it wasn't a mistake," he admits quietly, his gaze softening as he meets your tear-filled eyes. "Yesterday... what we shared... it meant something to me."
Your heart races as Mingyu's words sink in, a mix of hope and confusion swirling inside you. "Then why are you saying all of this?" you ask, your voice trembling with emotion. "If it meant something to you, then why..."
Mingyu cuts you off with a heavy sigh, his gaze dropping to the ground as he struggles to find the right words. "Because it's not going to work," he admits, his voice filled with resignation. "You're going back to your expensive bags and imported cars, and I'm going to be alone."
His words hit you like a punch to the gut, the realization of what he's saying sending a surge of pain through your chest. "But how can you be sure that I want to go home?" you protest, desperation creeping into your voice. "You didn't even heard the whole conversation. I need to go home, yes, but not because I want to leave you. I need to go home to tell my parents, my friends, that I want to stay here."
Mingyu's shoulders sag at your words, a flicker of hope shining in his eyes. "You want to stay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nod, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. "Yes," you say softly. "And do you know what made up my mind?"
Mingyu's gaze searches yours, waiting for your answer.
"You did," you admit, your voice barely a whisper as you meet his gaze. "You and this life... it made me feel something real. Something I've never felt before."
For a moment, there's a glimmer of understanding in Mingyu's eyes, a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, things could work out between you. He takes a step towards you, reaching out as if to touch you, but you step back, your heart still raw from his earlier words.
"I'm hurt," you whisper, your voice breaking with emotion. "And I need some time alone to figure things out."
With that, you turn and walk away, leaving Mingyu standing there, his gaze following you with a mixture of longing and regret. And as you disappear from view, you can't help but wonder if you've made the right decision... or if you've just made a terrible mistake.
Mingyu stands in the doorway, his expression pensive as he takes in the sight of you curled up on the bed, your breath trembling from your recent tears. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to approach you, before finally taking a step into the room.
"I... I wanted to talk to you," he begins, his voice soft and hesitant. "I know things have been... difficult between us lately, and I just wanted to say..."
He pauses, struggling to find the right words as he searches your face for any sign of understanding. "When I first heard that a rich girl was coming to our farm, I'll admit, I had my doubts," he admits, his gaze dropping to the floor as he speaks. "I thought you would be like all the others – snobbish, entitled, looking down on us like we were beneath you."
He takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what comes next. "But you proved me wrong," he continues, his voice growing stronger with each word. "You learned everything we taught you, you got along with everyone, and... despite our bickering, you seemed so genuine."
Mingyu's words hang in the air, the weight of his apology lingering between you. He takes a step closer, his eyes pleading for understanding as he searches your face for any sign of forgiveness.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for the way I've treated you, for the things I've said. I was wrong to judge you based on where you come from, and... I hope you can forgive me."
There's a vulnerability in Mingyu's voice that tugs at your heartstrings, a sincerity that you can't ignore. You feel a lump form in your throat as you meet his gaze, seeing the regret and remorse etched in his features.
"I... I forgive you," you whisper, your voice barely audible as you speak. "And... I'm sorry too. For the way I've acted, for... everything."
Mingyu's eyes soften at your words, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he says, his voice filled with gratitude. "And... I hope we can start over. Put all this behind us and... move forward."
In the bustling city where love often feels like just another commodity, you found something rare and precious in the countryside with Mingyu – an intense and fast connection that seemed to defy all logic and expectation. It was as if you could parachute jump into this feeling without a second thought, without fear of falling.
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zarameraki · 2 months
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♡₊˚🛏️₊✧ 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗽-𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼’𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗮 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗻𝗼 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸 ♡🌙₊˚₊✧
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 somnophilia (the characters have discussed the kink beforehand) 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 step-father x step-daughter 𖥔 porn with a bit of plot 𖥔 dom daddy and his little girl 𖥔 gojo eats you out 𖥔 bj 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 biting 𖥔 nipple play 𖥔 heavy daddy kink 𖥔 lots of dirty talking
: ̗̀➛ words: 3.1k
: ̗̀➛ notes: initially this was a toji fic but satoru somehow decided to fit better (bad-dum tshh). ngl when i was writing this i got butterflies in my stomach. like i legit felt sumn throbbing lmaooo. tmi??? dont care. we're all horny here mamas. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
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Satoru wasn’t ashamed to fuck his step-daughter. 
He enjoyed it. 
You enjoyed it. 
A clandestine affair kept under the sheets from your mother and two older brothers.
Megumi and Yuji had their suspicions about how carefree their step-father was around you, constantly tickling your side, asking you to lay your head on his lap during movie nights, and buying you gifts on a whim. The boys would obviously complain about the special treatment, but Satoru would just watch with a smile as you stuck your little tongue out and called yourself Daddy’s girl. 
Because that's what you were. You were your daddy’s girl. And Satoru ensured that fact was deeply ingrained in your mind as he moved in and out of you, lifting your tender legs onto his shoulders, kissing your rosy lips, saturating your silk sheets with both his and your release.
It was difficult keeping the lewd side of your relationship a secret. Your mother was rarely at home from her corporate job, and you suspected she was having an affair with a salaryman.
Meanwhile, your brothers were in their second and fourth year of college nearby and could come home whenever they pleased—particularly Megumi, who wasn't as much of a partygoer as Yuji being a senior. There were multiple times while Satoru was fucking you when Megumi returned home, but did that stop him from satisfying his girl? Fuck no. 
As for your stepfather, he was a remote investor in the booming hospitality industry, managing significant stakes in various companies. His encounter with your mother at an industry event last year was strategic; she became a means to an end, a stepping stone toward fulfilling his desires. A few months down the line, she introduced him to her family, to you—the most precious thing Satoru laid his eyes on. You were the real prize in his eyes, something he had to figure out how to get his hands on, despite always getting what he wanted.
So, he married your mother, moved into your house, and deployed every weapon in his arsenal, including his lethal charms, to claim you as his own.
But did Satoru cherish you in the way a man should cherish a woman? No. He didn't cherish you. His love didn’t check off the conventional boxes. He was consumed, fixated, captivated by your existence, by your body, the adorable noises you made when you climaxed. But not enough to make you his girlfriend, or someday his wife. 
He just wanted you as his step-daughter. He was a selfish, depraved bastard who got off on that fantasy, and you, God you loved nothing more. You wanted nothing more from him than to be exactly who he was in his spot—your step-father.
As long as you both kept fucking each other for however long, you were satisfied. 
“Quiet, baby,” Satoru whispered as he clicked on a link for a video call with his team. His one hand rested over his mouse, the other over your crown as you lapped at the tip of his leaking cock. “This is an important call.” 
You’d returned from school after acing the test you’d been studying all week for and wanted to release that excitement onto your step-father. After all, he did massage your shoulders and brought you fruits when you were busting your ass memorizing the periodic table. 
Satoru plastered on a smile as the voices from his computer started speaking. He still kept petting your head, chuckling casually and speaking smoothly about numbers and profits like the capitalist he was. 
You opened your jaw wider and took his length into your mouth. Your gag reflex was non-existent after months and months of perfecting this skill. Your tongue supported the bottom of his shaft, while slowly bobbing your head up and down. Satoru’s grip tightened in your hair, but he remained all rainbow and sunshine in front of his workers. 
You gripped his thick cock, feeling the veins pulsing under your touch. Your tongue slid from the bottom to the top as you sucked on the pink head like a lollipop, glancing up at him through your lashes.
Satoru shot you a heated look and guided your head with his hand. He pushed his throbbing cock into your mouth, holding your face against his pelvis. You gagged a bit, needing air, and he eased off.
“It’s on mute,” he muttered. 
You broke out into coughs and smacked his leg. “What the fuck was that for?” 
“For giving me those eyes.” 
You scoffed. “Dickhead.” 
“It’s right in front of you, Princess. Put your pretty lips on it again.” 
Rolling your eyes, you grabbed his cock extra tight making a muscle in his jaw twitch. You lapped at the pre-cum leaking down his length, then took him into the cave of your warm, small mouth. 
Satoru held your head in his hands, guiding the pace. He struggled to focus on the meeting, clearing his throat to shake off the intense feeling building up inside him. With fifteen minutes still to go, he was on the brink. 
Feeling your tap on his knee, he glanced down to see you motioning to your mouth.
Satoru lowered your head again, clenching his jaw as your tongue pushed him over the edge. He held his breath, releasing a wave of warmth as he emptied himself into your mouth. His grip tightened on your hair, while his other hand reached for his glass of water, desperately trying to steady himself with large gulps.
You pulled back, strings of your saliva and his come forming a bridge. He gave you the water and you drank the last bits of it. Satoru patted the top of your head and you stayed hidden underneath his table, admiring him as he finished his meeting. 
And before you knew it, he had you bouncing on his cock again. 
At dinner time, you helped set up the table with your brothers while your mother flipped the hamburger patties.
Satoru tossed the salad bowl, taking small glimpses at you and the pink set of tight shorts and tank you wore. He’s been noticing you rubbing your temples, swaying a little on the balls of your feet, blinking rapidly. You clearly weren’t feeling well from all that studying you’d been doing. 
Megumi abruptly pulled you aside by your elbow. “Is everything all right?” 
You blinked, fighting the sharp pain in your temple. “Yeah. Why?” 
“Satoru keeps glaring at you. Did you piss him off or something?” 
You cast a look at your step-father, who’s focused on pouring olive oil on the greens. “I haven’t talked to him since I came home from school.” 
Megumi nodded, rubbing your arm. “Well, I’m here if you need to talk about anything.” 
“What do you mean?” 
He scratches the back of his neck. “I just— This probably sounds stupid, but I don’t like knowing you’re both home alone in the afternoon.” 
“He lives here, silly. What do you expect?” 
“Yeah, I know. I know that—I’m just saying that he looks at you . . . like, weirdly. Not in a way someone would look at their family member. He acts weirdly, too. Always touching you and tickling you. I don’t know.” Megumi scrutinizes your outfit. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to wear that around the house when he’s here.” 
You frowned and crossed your arms. “I can’t deal with this again.” Putting on an act that Satoru was simply your step-father and nothing else was tiring, but you’d mastered it. “You’re being delusional as always, Megs. Satoru is just family to us and vice versa. I’m just special because I’m the youngest.” You patted his shoulder. “I can take care of myself. And if I ever need help, I’ve got you and Yuji to defend me.” 
Megumi smiled solemnly and shrugged off his hoodie, handing it to you. “Can you at least wear this?” 
Anything to ease his mind. 
You smiled and shouldered the large hoodie. 
Throughout dinner you kept losing focus of the conversation flowing between your brothers and mother. Your head was pounding from the stress of your upcoming final exams, your scalp ached a little from Satoru’s grip this afternoon, and you desperately needed sleep. 
“Y/N?” 
You lifted your head, blinking lethargically. “Yes, Mom?” 
“Are you okay?” 
“I—” You rubbed your heated forehead and pinched the bridge of your nose. “I, uh—I think I’m just not feeling too good.” 
“Sweetheart, how many times have I told you to take it easy with school? You’re doing great—”
“Great’s not going to get me in my dream college, Mom.” You lost your appetite easily and excused yourself from the table, grabbing a bottle of NyQuil and a spoon. “Please don’t wake me up until tomorrow. Goodnight.” You ignored everyone’s stares and marched upstairs, taking a spoonful on the way. 
Dropping face-front on the bed, you melted in your sheets and forced yourself into a sleep. 
Satoru waited until every light in the house was off before visiting your bedroom.
Of course, he had to check that little shit Megumi’s room, and after hearing nothing but white noise, he checked up on Yuji and found him snoring his lungs out, then finally entered into your space.
He shut the door quietly and locked it. 
You laid fast asleep, hair dusted across your soft face, one hand on your stomach, the other next to your head.
Satoru smirked and sat at the edge of your bed, checking your temperature by pressing his hand against your forehead. You were burning up, and the little strangled breaths puffing from your parted lips proved you weren’t going to school tomorrow. 
Lying down next to you, Satoru brushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He glanced down the length of your body and back to your face. His fingers danced over your collarbone, the expanse of your throat, feeling your rapid pulse.
“Relax for me, baby,” he whispered in your ear, kissing below your earlobe. He watched you for a second, waiting for you to shift or wake up, but you were dead asleep. 
You talked about what turns you on the most last week, and somnophilia was right up there, leaving Satoru scratching his head in confusion. He couldn’t wrap his head around how someone could be into getting it on while asleep. But you were practically begging him to give it a try someday, and he couldn’t say no to you. 
Well, surprise, surprise, baby. 
Satoru slipped down the straps of your tank top, leaning over you. He bridged kisses from your jaw to your neck to your shoulders, softly, not his usual crass ones. His finger hooked your tank lower until it exposed your tits and your puckered nipples.
“You’re always sensitive here, aren’t you, Princess?” He cupped your left breast and lowered his head, kissing the nipple and sucking the bud. 
You took a deep breath and shifted your face to the right.
Satoru switched to your neglected breast, taking his sweet time nibbling your tender nipple, then bringing his lips to yours. He kissed the top one, the bottom one, pushed his tongue inside to feel your sleeping one. His kisses trailed lower and lower until he reached your shorts. He pulled them down to reveal white panties and a damp spot between your legs. 
“Even in your sleep, huh?” Satoru planted kisses on your inner thighs, gently biting and licking. He nuzzled his nose against your clothed sex, inhaling deeply and breathing out slowly. His tongue traced over the area, wetting it more with each stroke. “Daddy’s gonna eat his pussy now, baby.” He pulled your panties to the side and dove into your slick, moist folds. “Mmm. You smell so sweet.” 
Satoru began to lap your juices like a starved dog, keeping your tender folds parted with his thumbs. The tip of his nose bumped against your clit, sending a little shiver down your body. He double-checked to see if you’re still asleep, then continued his job. He pushed two fingers in your walls and chuckled against your flesh as you clenched around him. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy’s taking good care of you.” 
Half an hour. He ate you out for half an hour until he could see the slight quiver in your swollen clit. His saliva and your fresh release covering your abused, delicate folds.
When he pulled away, his hard cock in hand, Satoru sat back, admiring you spread out like a feast before him. Leaning in, he teased your folds with his throbbing length, digging his tip over your clit in gentle circles.
“Can I put it in, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. You didn't answer, sweat trickling down your forehead with the fever. Satoru licked the droplets, then kissed down to your neck. His hands stayed by your head as he moved his hips, dragging himself over your puffy cunt. “Oh, fuck, baby. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Your little pussy is so soft and wet.” He gripped his length and pressed just the tip into your entrance. “Since you’ve been such a good girl, I’ll give you what you want. Just don't wake up, okay?”
Satoru slipped in smoothly and nuzzled into your neck. He eased into your tightness, going slow and steady, urging your gummy walls to adjust to his size. “My sweet baby. Look at you. Sleeping while your daddy fucks himself in you.” He pulled back and widened your legs, seeing his fat cock sliding in and out of you. “Fuck, yes. Gonna fuck this little cunt of yours for hours.” He started moving quickly. “I don’t care if you can’t walk tomorrow. You won’t be leaving this bed anyway with that fever of yours. Daddy’s gonna fuck it out of you however long it takes.” 
He put his hands on either side of your head and kissed you while moving his hips.
You moaned, feeling a shiver as cold touched your bare chest and legs. “Satoru,” you said softly. His eyes closed in pleasure as he increased his pace. 
Sensing you stirring, he wrapped his arm around your waist and turned you over so you were lying on his chest. He paused, running his hand down your arm. “It’s okay, Princess. Go to sleep. Daddy’s got you.” 
You exhaled heavily. 
Satoru licked his lips and grabbed your plump asscheeks in his palms, slowly moving himself up into you. His face squished up seeing how well you were handling him even though you were out cold. He kept going, sometimes easing up when you shifted on his chest, or speeding up when you stayed asleep. 
“I'm so close, baby. So close to finishing inside my little girl. Gonna fill you up. Flush those pills and make you a mom.” He envisioned you with a swollen belly, your breasts heavy with milk, your body glowing and all his. 
Fuck, you were his. 
You were only his. 
Satoru came harder than he ever had before. Hot spurts of his release filled your sweet hole to the brim, and yet he continued with pumping into you. “Hey, baby? Daddy doesn’t want to stop now, okay? He’s going to fuck you some more,” he said, realizing why this kink meant so much to you.
Pulling out slowly, he laid you down beside him, shedding his clothes. Pressing his chest against your back, he wrapped your leg around his and slid back inside you, burying his face in your neck. He wanted to be rough, to feel your nails on his skin, to bite you and hear you moan.
“I wanna kiss you, baby. I want your little tongue.” Satoru pulled out of you after finishing for the second time and laid you on your back. He adjusted your head so you were looking at him. His fingers went back to pleasuring you while his lips met yours. He slipped his thumb between your teeth, easing your bottom jaw down. Satoru slid his tongue in, playing with yours, moaning and breathing heavily.
“My baby has such soft lips,” he murmured over your wet, swollen mouth. Taking his finger soaked with your juices and his come, Satoru placed them between your lips and ran them over your tongue. He ravished your mouth again. 
Exhausted from holding back, Satoru pulled you close and slid back inside you, staying still, just feeling your warmth. He ran his hand over your back, kissed your head, and shut his eyes.
In the morning, you woke up feeling a bit weighed down below and something awkward stopping your movements. You lifted your head, rubbing your sleepy eyes, and saw Satoru asleep beneath you. A grin spread across your face as you remembered the steamy dream you had about him satisfying you. 
You planted a kiss on his cheek and tried to get up using your hands, but then you froze. 
You looked down and realized you were sitting right on top of Satoru’s cock.
Holy shit. It wasn’t a dream. 
Satoru fucked you while you were out cold. Just thinking about him taking advantage of your defenseless body to satisfy himself made you shiver.
“Dickhead,” you grumbled, then began to rock your hips. Time for payback. Yanking down your cami-top, you teased your nipples, riding his stiffening cock. You couldn't care less as you leaned in for a kiss. “Rise and shine, Handsome.” 
Satoru took a deep breath. His lips synced with yours effortlessly, and his hand found its way into your hair. He yanked your head back, his eyes widening as they trailed down to your swaying hips. A smirk played on his lips as he relaxed back, crossing his arms behind his head. “You feeling good now, Princess?”
“Much better, Daddy.” 
Satoru admired the playful bounce of your tits, the adorable mewls escaping your mouth, the flush of your smooth skin. Seeing his step-daughter fuck herself on his cock first thing in the morning had him on cloud nine. 
“I’m gonna come, Daddy,” you moaned, hands planted on his chest. 
“Come, then, baby. Come on your daddy’s cock.” He reached out and grabbed your throat. “Then lick it clean.” 
“Yes, Daddy.” You came with a muted cry, milking every last drop of him. “Your cock is so full inside of me.” Satoru smirked at your dirty little words and gave your left tit a little slap. 
You picked yourself up from his cock and knelt between his legs. Satoru watched as your little hand barely wrapped around his girth, lapping at his come like his pretty, little kitten. “Feels good, Daddy?” 
“Yeah, baby. You always feel good to me.”
Satoru released a contented sigh and reclined against the soft pillows, his arms folded beneath him.
He will never be shameless of fucking his sweet girl ever. 
2K notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 1 month
Text
— TAMED
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — You're a cat lover and Feyd-Rautha reminds you of one. You want him and you believe you can tame him.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — This is not exactly what the request was about but it includes Feyd having to deal with his wife's pet (I chose a cat because I'm a cat person myself). You see, I was a bit tired of my Readers being afraid and scared and I was also tired of the arranged marriage trope, which is one of my favourites, but everyone needs a break, huh? 😅
WARNINGS — harm to animals mentioned, brief mentions of Feyd's traumatic past, Reader being absolutely spoiled
WORD COUNT — 4,230
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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TAMED
“I want him,” you announced as you put your binoculars down and your lips curled into a smirk.
Your parents looked at each other, confused. You were in the stands as the guests invited to watch Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s gladiator fight. It was his birthday and his uncle made sure all the leaders of the befriended worlds were watching the display of violence and power. The display that made your parents absolutely terrified but you… You were amazed and aroused. The way young Feyd-Rautha defeated his enemies was like a brutal dance; a raw ritual. He was a feral feline and you were known to be a cat lover.
“Excuse me?” Your father asked.
“I want him. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” you repeated without even looking at him. Your eyes were focused only on the man in the arena who was raising his knife in a gesture of victory.
“These people are insane,” your mother hissed.
“You keep telling me it’s time for me to find a husband. I want him,” you pouted. You were determined – but not desperate.
“I can talk to Baron Harkonnen. But I am sure he would rather marry his nephew and heir to one of the Imperial Princesses,” your father informed you as your mother gasped at his words. She opposed the idea of this match completely.
“I understand,” you nodded. “Just do whatever it takes so if you fail, I will know you couldn’t possibly do more.”
He reluctantly agreed as he squeezed your cheek as if you were still a little girl. But perhaps it was a good thing that in his eyes you still were one. Because he would do anything to make you happy and fulfil your every whim.
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You spotted your father talking to Baron Harkonnen during his nephew’s birthday party but you didn’t want to just stand in the corner and wait for the men to make decisions in your name. Despite your mother’s protests, you approached Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and bowed slightly in sign of respect. He tilted his head, reminding you of a curious cat. You giggled and he squinted his eyes.
“Na-Baron, I couldn’t wait to meet you in person after seeing you fight in the arena,” you admitted.
“Lady (Y/N),” he greeted you coldly. “I wouldn’t expect such interests from a lady like you.”
“And I expected you would know more about the female nature,” you teased him and visibly angered him although he was trying to be on his best behaviour around guests. “Don’t you know that ladies love violence? The interesting ones at least,” you shrugged your arms.
“I don’t care what ladies like,” he answered. “I always get what I want either way.”
“I’m sure you do,” your eyes sparkled at a possibility of being one of the things he would want to claim for himself.
Most noble women were scared and disgusted after hearing all the stories about Feyd-Rautha and his sexual appetite, his psychotic nature. They would approach him only when needed and tried to stay away as far as possible. You were the very rare breed of women who would actually take interest in him and that intrigued him as he looked you up and down.
You gave him one last smile and walked back to your worried mother who was about to scold you for your reckless behaviour. However, for the rest of the night you kept glancing at the young na-baron and he was looking back. 
When you left the party, earlier than most people, you made sure to announce loud and clear that you were about to retire to your chambers. Then you looked deep into his eyes and walked out, followed by a servant. You dismissed her when you were in the guest wing and you continued your journey alone and as slow as possible.
You looked around but Feyd-Rautha seemed not to be following you. At least you could not see nor hear him and for a moment you thought you failed. After all, you were not a skilled seductress, you only did what your heart was telling you to do – your heart and your experience with the animals you loved the most. Cats.
And just like a cat and a skilled assassin that he was, Feyd silently emerged from the darkness when you were just about to open the doors leading to your bedroom. He was standing right behind you and his ominous presence sent a shiver down your spine.
“What are you doing, na-baron?” You swallowed thickly and shivered.
“Don’t pretend,” he whispered in his raspy voice. “You’re not the first spoiled noble lady who wants to use me for pleasure,” he told you. “What is it? Are you bored? Or engaged to an awful lord and you ant to find out what it’s like to have fun before you are forced to spend the rest of your life with him? Honestly, I don’t care,” he admitted and turned you around to face him. His touch was rough and for a second you genuinely felt scared when he trapped you between the doors and his muscular body.
The way he was staring down at you felt as if he was penetrating your soul. Only that his eyes were empty. He was gazing into you but you couldn't gaze back because he didn’t have a soul. There was an endless coldness in his pupils. And so much pain.
“It’s a misunderstanding,” you whispered, almost inaudibly, as the tips of your noses brushed against each other. “I am not one of those women. The only man who can take me will be my husband,” you tried to sound convincing and stern but with a small dose of innocence. He blinked slowly, surprised by your confession.
“I thought you wanted me to follow you,” he insisted.
“No,” you lied. “I was only looking at you because I find you interesting,” you looked down. “But it’s sad what you’ve just told me, my Lord,” you added.
“Why?” Feyd was confused as he took a step back.
“I don’t know… I just think you’re so much more than a toy to use for pleasure,” you looked up again to meet his gaze. “I don’t think you should let those ladies treat you like that. I know you keep telling yourself you like it but it’s not you always getting what you want. It’s them always getting what they want until there is nothing left of you, is it not, na-baron?” You batted your eyelashes and he took another step back, like a predator realising that the prey he had caught was poisonous. “Good night, my Lord… and happy birthday,” you gave him a soft smile and disappeared behind the doors leading to your bedroom.
You couldn’t sleep all night, clutching on the bedsheets and hoping for the best outcome. In the morning your father told you that The Baron was slowly starting to like the idea of your marriage union with his nephew. Apparently, he changed his mind after a conversation with Feyd-Rautha in the early morning.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” your father warned you at the sight of your wide smile.
“Oh, papa, I always do,” you assured him, already excited about your new pet kitty.
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You stayed on Giedi Prime for a month for the courting process but Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen had the privilege of being able to call off the engagement at any moment. That, however, did not happen. He was growing more and more fond of you each day. You were watching him train and walking all around the fortress as he was telling you about his family’s history and culture. You were the most fascinated by the war stories and weapons, always eager to learn more. Always eager to let him steal a kiss here and there, let his hands wander but always stepping back when it would get too heated. You didn’t want him to use you and then discard you. No, he had to be patient for the real reward. Just like cats would lose interest if you let them catch the mouse too quickly.
What you noticed about him, though, was how much he avoided the intimate physical touch. He didn’t mind his opponents striking him or choking him, violating his body in any way, really. But the delicacy was making him flinch and startle to the point of aggression. He wouldn’t lash out at you but he would do that often at the servants. When it was you trying to caress him, he was clenching his jaw and shooting you a deadly glance. The more you knew about him, the more convinced you were that he was just a cat in a human form.
When a month passed, you were scared he would send you away. But instead of doing so, he sent a tailor and a bunch of servants to your room. It was time for you to make all the required fittings for your wedding dress. You sent out the invitations, too. And in the letter addressed to your parents, you mentioned all the things you wanted them to bring you to Giedi Prime.
One of them was your favourite kitty Mephisto.
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On the first day of your marriage you were unpacking the boxes from home as Feyd was sitting up in bed and watching you. It was the only day he allowed himself to skip the daily training as the activities between a husband and a wife could count as one, too. However, you required a break and wanted to finally reunite with your favourite items… and your favourite pet.
Feyd’s eyes widened at the sight of a hairless cat in the arms of the servant girl.
“What is that monstrosity?” He asked you.
“That’s Mephisto! My cat!” You took him from the girl’s arms and cuddled him. “Oh, mummy’s been missing you, baby,” you cooed to him and he started to purr.
“You can’t be serious, wife,” Feyd moved closer to inspect the creature with his eyes. Mephisto hissed and you giggled. “That is a cat?”
“You’ve never seen one?” You asked.
“I have. But not like that. It’s ugly,” Feyd scrunched his nose.
“Why ugly?” You gasped and held Mephisto’s head lovingly as if you were protecting him from your husband’s harsh words.
“Cats have fur. This one is so…”
“Bald?” You teased and he closed his mouth, realising the irony. “I have plenty of cats back home but I was aware I couldn’t bring them all here. I chose Mephisto because he is my favourite. We had tough beginnings. He didn’t trust me and he was scratching me a lot. He’s a mean-mean baby,” you leaned in to kiss the cat and Feyd winced as he found it disgusting.
“Do whatever but I don’t want this creature in my chambers,” Feyd stated.
“You’re insane! Mephisto will never leave these chambers. I don’t want him to get lost or hurt in the fortress. Also, he always sleeps with me,” you protested.
Feyd took a deep breath in as he closed his eyes, trying to calm himself down.
“If he scratches one thing… I will throw him out of the balcony door,” he threatened.
“If you do that, I will never speak to you again. And certainly I won’t ever share the bed with you, husband. Mephisto is like a child to me. You can’t threaten me this way. It does nothing but anger me,” you pointed out and cuddled the cat. “Aw, Mephisto, look, daddy’s angry.”
“I am not this thing’s… father,” Feyd drawled through gritted teeth as he stood up to put a robe on. “After all, I think I will go train today.”
“Then go,” you shrugged your arms. “I will cuddle with Mephisto in the meantime because I haven’t seen him in a month.”
Feyd shot you an angry glance.
“You’re not jealous, are you?” You looked up as that sudden realisation hit you.
“No,” he snorted. “Of this thing? Please,” he sneered at you and left the chambers.
“We have lots of work with your new daddy, Mephisto,” you chuckled to the kitty and kissed its head. He meowed at you.
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Feyd-Rautha absolutely despised your cat. He hated that you allowed that creature to sleep in bed with you and you were always holding him in your arms. When Feyd was working on paperwork – which he hated – Mephisto would often jump on his desk and bother him. Many times when you were out of the room, Feyd had the urge to grab the creature and throw it out of the balcony or even snap its neck but when he actually extended his hands to catch the cat, the urge disappeared.
First of all, he didn’t want to hurt you. And that was a brand new feeling for him because never before had he cared about someone’s feelings like that. And second of all, the moment the cat was in his arms, Mephisto would start to purr and rub his head on Feyd’s hand or chest. Even though at first he found it disgusting, he quickly started to enjoy it. There was something comforting in the cat’s touch. It was not human and yet so pure. As time passed, he was allowing Mephisto to nap on his lap as he worked on the papers. Of course he would quickly put the cat away whenever someone was coming. He didn’t want anyone to see him so weak.
But he was jealous of the cat, too. He was jealous of the kisses and attention he was getting. The belly rubs and scratches behind the ear. The way Mephisto would curl up and sleep on your chest. Feyd craved it from you, too, but he didn’t know how to allow himself to ask for it. It would be humiliating, he thought, but also dangerous. He wanted to trust you but he was not able to. And whenever you tried to touch him gently, he was haunted by the memories he didn’t want to remember. He didn’t cuddle you at night and he didn’t allow you to do the same. While performing the marital duties, he had a feeling they would be even better if he allowed himself a little gentleness but he just couldn’t let his guard down. Not even around you.
For a long time, Mephisto was the only creature that saw the soft side of your husband. When they were alone in your chambers, Feyd would let him not only nap on him but he would also carry him in his arms and pet him. Sometimes he was starting fights for the cat to scratch and bite him and for Feyd it was great fun. They created a bond that you had no idea about. You kept thinking that your husband despised Mephisto and he didn’t mind you thinking this way.
So, when you spotted a scratch on Feyd’s desk one day, you panicked. You quickly covered it with a few papers laying aside and fixed your hair right before your husband walked inside the chambers that afternoon.
“What are you doing here so early?” You asked as he squinted his eyes at you, suspiciously.
“I have to work on the papers, answer some stupid letters,” Feyd sighed and approached you. He put his hands on your waist and inspected your suspicious face. “Is everything alright, wife?” He asked.
“Yes, my dear, perfectly fine,” you faked a smile. “I have to go and work on the preparations for the event next week,” you reminded him and he nodded before leaning in to give you a possessive kiss. He would give you them a few times a day to remind you to whom you belonged. Not that you minded. After all, you had been wanting this from the moment you had seen him in the arena.
“See you later, then, wife,” Feyd sat by the desk and your heart skipped a beat when you spotted him picking up one of the papers you had used to cover the scratch with. However, he didn’t seem to notice the damage done to his desk. You sighed with relief and left the chambers, hoping that Feyd would continue to be blind when it came to that scratch.
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But when you came back to your bedroom two hours later, it was empty. You didn’t expect to see Feyd because he had his other duties to perform on that day. What worried you was the fact you couldn’t find your cat. After crawling all over the floor like a madwoman, trying to see if he was not hiding under any furniture, you just burst into tears in the middle of the carpet. You were sure that Feyd had spotted the scratch and gotten rid of your cat. After all, he had threatened to do so on the very first day of your marriage.
You pulled your knees to your chest and rested your forehead on them as you sobbed, hugging yourself. You could only blame yourself. Your parents had been warning you about the Harkonnens but you still wanted a man like Feyd-Rautha as your husband. Hoping to tame him as it would boost your spoiled ego even further to do that. And now your innocent little kitty was a victim of his fury. Was Mephisto still alive? You hoped so. But even if… how would he survive on Giedi Prime? He would not. And you would not either without him. He was your anchor.
You didn’t want to complain about your husband’s homeplanet because you chose him to be your husband yourself. And some part of you loved him – even though at the moment you weren’t so sure anymore – but it was not a friendly place. And it was not pleasant. It was cold and scary and colourless. Mephisto was reminding you of home. Of your other kittens, of your parents, of the real sunlight. He was also letting you love him like your husband would never do. And he was loving you back… unconditionally. And now he was gone. Your little baby.
You couldn’t tell for how long you had been sobbing like this. It could be hours. When Feyd came back to your chambers, he froze at the sight of you in such a position on the carpet.
“What happened, wife?” He asked as he stood above you. You didn’t answer, too angry at him. He sighed and crouched down to be on your level. “Are you hurt?” 
“Yes, I am,” you finally looked at him, furiously. He seemed to be surprised. “I am hurt by what you have done. And now you’re going to pretend that you don’t know what I’m talking about, right? Go to hell. I hate you,” you snapped and hid your face again.
“I don’t understand. Can you explain this to me?” He asked, slowly, trying not to snap back at you.
“Mephisto! You got rid of him!” You sobbed.
“What? I have not…” He stuttered and put his arms on your shoulders to make you look up again. So you did but you were as angry as before.
“Don’t lie to me. You hated that cat and you just threw him away because he scratched your desk. Congratulations, Feyd-Rautha, you got rid of an innocent animal, you won with a sinless little baby; my baby. Are you proud of yourself? Was it a satisfying victory to hurt a little kitty?”
Feyd didn’t answer, he was staring at you as if you were crazy.
“It really feels as if you killed my baby,” you told him. “And I will never forgive you.”
“What are you talking about? I didn’t touch him. What happened?” Feyd shook your arms.
“He’s not here. I don’t know what you’ve done to him but he’s not here,” you sniffled.
“I didn’t do anything!” He protested.
“I don’t believe you!” You moved back, you hated to feel his touch on you. You clumsily stood up and curled on the bed. “I don’t want to see you. Go away. I wanted to love you but you’re rotten to the core. You’re just evil. Unlovable,” you muttered.
You couldn’t know how hurtful your words were. But Feyd didn’t blame you because you couldn’t know his true feelings. And he focused more on Mephisto anyway. He was worried about the kitty, too. So, after a while of staring at you without a word, he put his hand on his hip and looked around, as if he would magically find the cat. He even looked under the bed as your sobs filled the room.
Without a word, Feyd left the bedroom and you hugged your own arms as the pillow under your head was getting wet from your tears. 
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It was dark already and you were half asleep when the doors opened again. It brought you back from the state of slumber but you felt too hopeless to even lift a hand to turn on the light. You recognised Feyd’s silhouette approaching you so you decided to ignore him completely. Nothing could fix this damage. Never.
You felt him sitting on the edge of the bed while turning the bedside lamp on. You squinted your eyes at the sudden brightness.
“I found him,” Feyd’s whisper made your eyes open as you sat up rapidly, utterly shocked at the sight of Mephisto in your husband’s arms.
“Wh-what?” You asked. At first, your sleepy and foggy brain refused to believe that the cat was really your Mephisto.
“He was hiding in the dungeons,” Feyd explained. “I searched through the whole fortress to find him. Hired half of the guards to help me. My uncle found it hilarious,” Feyd handed you the kitty and you sobbed out of relief. Mephisto was stinking but he was alive and healthy. You hugged him tight to your chest. “One of the servants was not cautious enough and left the doors ajar when she was cleaning here.”
“Which one?” You asked, angrily.
“It doesn’t matter. I have dealt with her already,” Feyd assured you and you nodded.
You suddenly began to feel guilty for the way you had treated your husband before. Now, when Mephisto was back in your arms and it was all thanks to Feyd…
“I didn’t expect you to care so much,” you admitted, not wanting to look up and meet his gaze. Your hands focused on caressing the cat. “That you didn’t want me to be sad.”
“You’re my wife of free choice. I don’t want my wife to be sad,” Feyd nodded. “And I wanted the cat back,” he added. You eventually looked up at him, surprised by his confession.
“You hate him,” you reminded him.
“Not at all,” Feyd smirked nervously and you didn’t say anything to that. You had no idea that he actually liked the cat. You still had a lot to learn when it came to the ways in which your husband would show his affection.
“I was cruel to you,” you whispered. “I am sorry.”
“You had your reasons to be,” he only said. “And you were not wrong about me.”
“I was,” you moved to the side gently, making a space in bed for him to lay there, too.
So he did, without a word. And one of his hands actually caressed Mephisto’s head. The cat began to purr and you realised they had already had a bond that you had just not noticed before.
Hesitantly, you dared to raise one of your hands, too. You gently brushed Feyd’s forehead and then his cheek. He didn’t startle this time and you happily began to explore every curve of his beautiful face with your fingertips.
“You’re funny,” you giggled and he looked up, curiously. “You’re the scariest Harkonnen but you’re also the prettiest,” you admitted and he blushed a little. You had never expected to see him blush. “And look at you, you allow me to touch you.”
“It feels good when you do that,” Feyd closed his eyes just like Mephisto had his own pair shut close. You swore, if your husband was an actual animal, he would start purring under your touch.
You felt proud of yourself to tame him. You had known from the moment you had seen him that you would succeed. But it was not the pride that made your heart swell. It was love. There was something about Feyd-Rautha that just made you want to treat him like a kitty, too. Scratch him behind his ear and let him sleep on your chest. Most ladies would call you insane for that but you knew him in a way they would never know him. You leaned in to place a kiss upon Mephisto’s forehead and then you did the same to Feyd-Rautha.
“I’m sorry I have doubted you,” you whispered to him. “You would never hurt me, am I right?”
He only hummed in response, moving even closer to your body. You smiled to yourself.
“I have tamed you, husband, have I not?”
But he didn’t reply. He was already asleep, snoring lightly. You had never seen his face so relaxed and carefree before. He didn’t have to say anything for you to know the answer.
And as much as you loved Mephisto like your own little baby… You had a new favourite pet now.
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MASTERLIST
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anthurak · 5 months
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So with everything we learned and saw in Episode 4 from Angel, Valentino, Charlie and Husk, here’s a little theory on how the Hotel crew saving Angel from Valentino might play out. Particularly in how Husk’s status as a former Overlord may factor into things.
Because I have a hunch it’s actually going to be Husk, rather than Charlie who gets fed up first and goes out to make a real attempt at getting Angel away from Valentino, given everything we saw between Husk and Angel in this episode. Specifically, Husk aims to lure Valentino into gambling for Angel’s contract.
Now that raises the question of what exactly Husk could gamble with. I see two possibilities:
Option One, Husk full on bluffs Valentino that he still has substantial power as an Overlord and has been hiding it all this time, tempting him with more souls and power. And as we’ve seen most notably in Episode 2, Val in kind of a massive fucking idiot, so I could see him actually falling for this. Essentially, Husk gambles with nothing, save his own soul, for a chance to save Angel.
Option Two, Husk actually gets his power BACK from Alastor. Specifically through fulfilling some mysterious, nebulous condition Alastor set up for him. It could even be that this is what sets up Husk to gamble Val for Angel’s freedom. Alastor returns Husk’s power as an Overlord because he’s curious as to what Husk will do with it now. Which we see, is putting it all on the line again for a chance to save Angel.
Whichever way we get to it, we find Husk in a high-stakes card game with Valentino. And of course, Husk does the classic trope of NOT telling his friends or even the guy he’s doing this for what he’s doing to ‘keep them safe’ and all that. Of course, they do find out. Which will come into play later…
As for the all-important gamble; Husk actually does WIN legitimately against Valentino. However, because Valentino is… well, Valentino he welches on the deal and attacks Husk, and perhaps a recently arrived Angel as well.
Now in the event that Husk was bluffing Valentino the whole time and is actually helpless against a fully-powered Overlord, this would be when Alastor, from afar, actually returns Husk’s own power as an Overlord as some offhand, magnanimous whim. Which of course now allows Husk to actually fight back against Valentino.
What ensues is a full and proper fight between Husk/Angel and Valentino, with all the requisite emotional drama of Angel and Husk admitting their feelings for each other and all of Valentino’s shittiness as a person coming out in force. Maybe like an mlm version of the Bees vs. Adam fight.
However, despite getting his power as an Overlord back, Husk ultimately turns out to not be as powerful as Valentino. Alternatively, perhaps he never gets his power back at all and we just skip to here from Husk winning the bet. Whichever way we get here, Husk and Angel are now at the non-existent mercy of Valentino.
Which is precisely when CHARLIE shows up.
And I imagine what ensues plays out in a flash. Like everyone is only just registering that Charlie has appeared when suddenly everything is on fire. We get only the briefest glimpses, perhaps only in silhouette, of the full-sized horns on Charlie’s head, the great leathery wings coming out of her back and the pitchfork in her hand before she has Valentino by the throat and the mothman starts BURNING, screaming in pain as he is consumed in hellfire.
Basically, I feel that after this episode we are going to see Husk be the one to step up first to try and save Angel from Valentino, given everything we saw between the pair this episode. But at the same time, I think the interactions between Charlie and Valentino, particularly Charlie starting to transform in rage, sets her up as the one who’s going to ultimately put Val down. Specifically via giving us a glimpse at Charlie’s true power.
And I do say glimpse because I imagine the full and proper reveal of Charlie’s ‘Devil Form’ is almost certainly going to be saved for when she’s forced to take on the likes of Adam and the Exorcists, the ones who have been set-up as proper antagonists to Charlie herself.
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mayaree-darling · 13 days
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just a bit of luck your way // Self Aware Wuthering Waves (Jiyan)
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Pairing(?): SelfAware!Jiyan and Player!Reader
Synopsis: You're one of the many players who started playing Wuthering Waves on release and of course the main thing you waited for is pulling for Jiyan.
From Mayaree: celebrating rn coz i got Jiyan and his weapon on my first 10 pull on each banner (dont know if that's supposed to happen but still a celebration).
CW: self aware au; no concrete spoilers because i just reached a little past level 20; swearing; second person pov (you, your, etc.)
Word Count: 2.8k (unedited)
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Surely, surely there was something wrong with this game. You know for a fact you ain't that lucky - especially in these anime gacha games - so either there was something wrong with this game or the devs were just that giving to their players.
You had decided to play Wuthering Waves on a whim, caught up on the excited chatter you've been hearing all over the internet at its coming release. Patiently waiting for the servers to open worldwide, you sat down on your cozy chair with some snacks and a drink, ready to play. A grin ticks your lips upwards as you're taken to choosing your character.
You gotta say, the game is pretty amazing on your first run. Attack, parry, dodge. Seems simple enough. With a few fights, you were getting used to the routine and the enemies' patterns. If you had to nitpick something, though-
"This feels a little too easy." You were by no means an overly skilled player, as far as you were aware. Maybe it's because you're just barely past the start of the game, but it feels like the enemies were dying a bit too quickly. And you were only dealing like 10 damage per swing.
But just as you say it, you sit up in your chair in attention. Did… did they just get harder to kill? No, wait, you did just raise your Union Level, so maybe that's why. The enemies' attack patterns are slightly more advanced and although you're dealing more damage, their health bars are keeping up with you. Well, you were complaining earlier, so maybe this was a good thing? You keep playing, now being kept on your toes during combat.
After grinding a bit more - how much time have you spent already? Not enough, you think - you finally unlock what you've been waiting for this whole time.
The gacha system.
You're no stranger to gacha games. If anything, it's the reason you played this game in the first place. Sure the combat was nice, but what was better than collecting these prettily designed anime men and women and running around with them on the open world map? Nothing was more fulfilling than staring at your growing roster of playable characters the longer you played the game.
And for Wuthering Waves, the first addition to your would-be collection appears on the screen.
You'd be lying if you said you were going into the game blind. With the amount of Jiyan videos you've seen from the betas and leaks, you may as well have played him for a month now. From idle animations to his forte attack, you watched as many videos available as you could. And each one solidified for you that you needed to pull for him. That man was coming home one way or another.
Grinding a little more astrite by doing a couple of missions here and there - you had 1,300 astrite, just a little more for the home goal and then- you were ready. Sure it's just a meager 10 pulls but it was definitely a start. And you never know… right? You click the 10 pull button and-
OH??? SHIT, WAS THAT GOLD JUST NOW???? YOU KNOW FOR A FACT GOLD IS A GOOD THING, RIGHT??? You click through the 3-star results as quick as you can and- YEAH YEAH THAT'S HIS ANIMATION IT'S HIM HE'S HOME IT'S JIYAN!
You all but kick the chair away and bump your whole lower half on the table as you jump up in joy. You may as well be doing backflips while you're at it. You got him??? On the first 10 pull, no less???? This game was spoiling you holy shit. And it's only been a day.
Immediately heading over to the characters screen, you go to Jiyan's profile and just. Stare at him. Basking in the fact that you played this game on day 1, got the first available limited 5 star, and on your first fucking 10 pull.
Holy shit.
You scream into a pillow and hope your housemates don't hear. Or maybe they should hear because this has got to be the luckiest day of your life and you'd flex it on their faces if they understood the gacha game hype. Going back to the screen, Jiyan is doing one of his idles, twirling around his spear. My god, he looked glorious. His whole appearance was both beautiful and imposing. He looked so cool, hot damn.
"I'll be relying on you from now on, general." You grin once more and spin your chair with a whoop.
You level him up as high as you can, using all the leveling materials available at the moment. He's capped out at 20 right now because you did just start playing and still haven't unlocked character ascension, but you're willing to grind more just to raise him. You even move him to the first spot in your team (sorry, Rover, you can take the next spot).
You head on over to training, to gather some weapon and leveling materials but also because you want to test him out in battle. Damn it all, those beta videos of him didn't disappoint. He was just as good, if not even better since you're the one playing him right now.
He was definitely fun to play with. Of course, all the characters are fun to play with, but Jiyan was twice as fun. Would it be bold to say it was like you were meant to play as him? Suddenly the game is easier again. But not because the enemies are easy to kill, more so you feel like you're able to move better. You seem to be able to time dodging and parrying a lot better, even knowing when to attack at the best moment. Clearly, it was a really good decision to pull for him.
When you've grinded enough - he's level 40 now and you've fully accepted you're in this game for the long run - you go to level up his 4-star broadblade and then stop. You've saved up enough astrite for another 10 pull, right? Maybe you still have some luck left from the Jiyan pull, so… maybe?
"What do you think, Jiyan? Do I go for it?" You laugh at the absurdity of your one sided conversation. "I think you deserve your main weapon."
To your surprise, you watch as he laughs once, shaking his head and looking away with a barely noticeable smile (it's hard to tell with your gadget's graphics, but you definitely heard him). Was… was that part of his idle animations? You make a split-second decision to check his profile. Uh, no? No, it wasn't? Where'd that come from??? Well, maybe it was a secret animation plugged in by the devs. Game devs did like adding a little secret every now and then, right?
Anyways, although indirectly, Jiyan just gave you his answer. You were pulling for his weapon. You mean, there's still like 20 days left for you to pull if you don't get it right away, so there's no harm in building pity right now. Right? Right. To the gacha you go.
Breathing out - maybe a small prayer to the gacha gods in your head - you click the 10 pull button on the limited-time weapon banner-
WAITWAITWAITWAIT WAS THAT FUCKING GOLD??? AGAIN??? THERE'S NO SHOT. THERE'S NO FUCKING SHOT THAT THIS IS-
You stare at the golden glowing weapon on your screen in disbelief. A second passes, and then another as you stare at the green and gold broadblade. Verdant Summit. In the flesh. Excitement follows soon after like a tidal wave. You're off your chair in the next second again, fist-pumping the air like no tomorrow. You don't even care if your housemates hear you jumping around this time.
"JIYAN, LOOK, WE ACTUALLY GOT YOUR WEAPON!" You think you hear someone knock at your walls but you could care less right now.
When you're seated and back to your screen, you immediately equip the blade to Jiyan and stare again. Fuck, he really did look cool. With the sword, he's even twice as cool. Okay, he was hot, you're not gonna sugarcoat it. He was both in equal measure. You try swinging the blade around and breathe out in awe.
"It looks like it was made for you," you laugh. Well, surely it was. The blade was designed for him from the moment it was created, but still. You hear his little laugh again, but the animation seems to be cut short when you accidentally slash. Whoops.
When the excitement dies down, exhaustion sets in. You look at the time. Damn, it was that late? You really played the game for a whole day? Woof.
But you think it was well worth it as you watch Jiyan with his weapon in action. You finish up battling with a few more enemies before leaning back on your chair, content. Silly as it may be, you wish your team goodnight before logging off for the day.
Jiyan waits until he can't hear your voice or feel the warmth that overtakes him whenever you use him before he moves. He groans as he stretches. You really did enjoy using him to explore Solaris 3, no doubt about that. Not that he was complaining.
Far from it, really.
"Cheater." Jiyan blinks once before turning around. Rover stands there, arms crossed with a frown set upon their face. Jiyan could tell there was no real bite to their expression or words, but he still found it rather funny.
"Are you talking to me, Rover?" Jiyan's voice is calm and collected, but he can feel the corner of his mouth tick upwards ever so slightly.
"You know what you did." Rover scoffs, still lacking actual bite. It was more like teasing, if anything. "You wanted to make them happy that much?"
"Is it not possible I just wanted to visit Jinzhou for a bit? Their goals and mine simply aligned at the moment and I used the opportunity." A lie, but not quite.
Yes, he did want to visit Jinzhou. Word had reached him of the new Rover who even the Magistrate had taken a keen interest to. He wanted to make sure they weren't anything dangerous, despite the prophecy. Jué knows the last thing they need is the Midnight Rangers at the Norfall Barriers and an ambush in the main city.
But the moment he arrived, things were very different. For one, the very Rover he was so wary of ended up working with him in a small team of three. The Rover was no normal person, either. Yes, Jiyan could tell that they were strong and would be able to get stronger at a rapid pace. But they also seemed too observant. How should he put it? It felt like they were seeing something else he couldn't. Or they were seeing everything differently.
And then he felt it for himself.
Your voice is warm but thunderous, and yet it was not painful for the ears. Loud with excitement he can't quite understand. You're excited… that you have him? You even said you would rely on him from now on. He could laugh at how easy you were to please. Something so simple and you were already so happy. Maybe it's simply your emotions leaking into his own soul, but he could feel the genuine joy that you were feeling. He prides himself for choosing to come home as soon as he could if only to share in your happiness. He wanted to understand whatever it is that makes you so excited. After so much bloodshed, your joy felt like a breath of fresh air he hadn't taken in so long.
As you use him to walk around the world and fight Tacet Discords, it felt like he was seeing the world for the first time again. Maybe this is what the Rover was seeing with their observant eyes. Jiyan felt like he was experiencing Solaris 3 for the first time once again. Whenever you gasped at the sights of high cliffs and the boundless sky, he may as well be sighing in amazement with you.
"Right… Took the opportunity. Sure." Rover raised an eyebrow. "And the broadblade?"
Jiyan shrugs. "I find that I work better with a familiar weapon." Another lie, but not quite.
He didn't mind using another weapon. His skills lay in his own sharpened abilities, not in whatever object he had on hand. He could manage fine with any other broadblade you gave him, and he trusted you to help him fight. You fumbled a little bit here and there, made him attack a little recklessly at times, but you were doing your best. Jiyan could count on you in battle.
However, when you asked him if he wanted his weapon, he stopped. Having his sword on hand would do him good, of course. As he told the Rover, he fights even better with Verdant Summit. But, there was something about you asking his opinion. He knows you cannot read his thoughts. And yet you asked. It felt rather nice… A connection between you both. A familiarity he did not expect but was definitely not unwelcome.
He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. To his surprise, you actually hear him. He frowns at the short panic this causes (did you not want to hear from him after all?), but thankfully you move on from it quickly enough. You take his laugh as a good sign and decide to acquire his weapon.
When he saw the shooting stars alight the waters below, Jiyan pondered for a second. Surely, there won't be any harm in helping you a bit, right? He reaches down and touches one of the stars, immediately making it light a glowing golden light as it shoots to the sky. He feels your joy before he hears it and with it, his own chest is filled with warmth.
There's a silence that overtakes you when you see the weapon that makes Jiyan worried. Did… you not want his weapon after all? But that can't be right, you even asked him for his thoughts. Or did you sense that you received it without effort? Did you realize he helped you get it? Maybe he shouldn't have meddled with your abilities.
Before he can overthink and sink into a spiral of doubt, your screams of joy and the sound of you jumping around in pure happiness fill his ears. Jiyan breathes out in relief, another small smile making its way to his lips. He was worried for nothing. Maybe you were just shocked for a little bit. Did you think he would not help you get it? He knew you would, he just helped you receive it earlier than you would have. He may or may not have simply wished to hear your joyous laughter at the moment.
As you give him Verdant Summit, he tests its weight and familiarity in his hand and perform a couple of swings (maybe he wanted to show it off a bit for you, just a touch). You think it was made for him? Well surely it was, and yet the comment makes him laugh a little more. You've been making him a laugh for a while now.
You enjoy a few more moments with him, battling together. He enjoys them as well, if he was honest, as you spend the time praising him and being in awe. It was rather embarrassing if he was honest, but he appreciated it all the same. Before he knew it, time had flown in an instant. You bid him and the others goodnight before leaving, and he knows you leave with a smile on your lips.
"Uh-huh. Right. I definitely believe you." Rover laughs. "Don't think I didn't see you smile, General Jiyan."
Almost on instinct, Jiyan covers his mouth with a hand, looking away. It barely concealed his embarrassment. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Be careful the others don't catch you helping them too much." Baizhi suddenly speaks from the side. She was so quiet Jiyan almost forgot she was there. The Rover smiles teasingly, before they turn around with a small wave. Baizhi follows soon after with a nod. "Chixia's already complaining that they're showing you too much favoritism."
"I- yes, of course. Thank you for the advice, Baizhi." Jiyan clears his throat.
Was it that obvious? Most likely. Rover and Baizhi may have seen too much considering they've been traveling together for a while now, but if even the others were noticing his closeness to you then he was doing a poor job at hiding it. However, was there really a need to hide it? The others did not try hiding their favor for the warm voice they hear and who guides them. So, there was no need to hide it himself, was there?
He spins his newly obtained sword - an old companion, but he felt like he was seeing it for the first time all over again, with better memories attached to it - and smiles softly. Yes, there was no need to hide how he favored your connection to him. It wouldn't even be a bold claim for him to say he was happy that he had made the decision to come when you called for him.
Jiyan hopes you stay with him for a while longer, if only to see what you see, feel happiness the way you do. He'd like that a lot.
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From Mayaree: Said I was gonna write Self Aware Star Rail but I just got too excited. Thank you, WuWa.
✨ Masterlist ✨
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine and belong to their respective creators. Their portrayal is merely my own interpretation of them and may not be accurate to their intended characterization. I stake no claim to the original works, only to the ideas and plot of the fictitious stories I’ve written them into.
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frenchkisstheabyss · 5 days
Text
♰ ⱠɆ₲łØ₦ ♰
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♰ Pairings: demon!matz x chubby!fem!reader, demon!wooyoung x chubby!fem!reader, a sprinkle of demon!san x chubby!fem!reader, (eventual priest yeosang/jongho/yungi x chubby!fem!reader in the future)
♰ Genre: demon au/horror/smut
♰ Summary: Congratulations, darling! It's your destiny to be impregnated by four demons in an ancient Satanic sex ritual that'll lead to the birth of the Antichrist and bring about the end times. Now hop down into this demons' layer and let's get this thing going. Armageddon awaits.
♰ Word Count: 3.1kish
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♰ Warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex, no pulling out, double vaginal penetration, overstimulation, nipple play, breast play, rough sex, lots of breath play, ritualistic sex, scratching, a lil blood, oral sex (f receiving), sensory play, a lil nibbling, huge huge demon dicks so there's mucho vaginal stretching, the dicks can shapeshift (yes, shapeshift), demons give some dom vibes, reader's for sure subby, a lil possessiveness, demonic powers, religious themes, bondage, a lil choking, telepathy, your body's controlled via powers at some point, pet names (pet, little one, darling, good girl), and that should be it.
♰ A/N: Hold on, hear me out, I can explain. No, I can't. I'm a heathen. I like spooky shit and fucking demons so, ya know, here we are. This is the first part in a series I'm writing and it'll probably only get more unhinged from here honestly so, yeah, hop in babes. It's apocalypse time.
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“And he asked him, ‘What is thy name?’And he answered saying, ‘My name is Legion, for we are many’” - Matthew 5:9
♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ Laberinto del Demonio ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰
Tucked away on the tree shrouded grounds of an aging Spanish manor, a labyrinth spirals deep into the earth. Beneath the lush grass and packed dirt, surrounded by the twisted roots of trees that feast upon the decaying corpses of those who attempt to intrude, this labyrinth is home to fearsome creatures who’ve peacefully slumbered here for hundreds of years. But tonight they awaken. For you. 
“Such a beautiful girl. Just let me…” Wooyoung compliments, fussing with a few flyaway strands of your hair. In the year that’s passed since Wooyoung came into your life all he’s done is fuss over you. You’ve never known a more attentive lover. Never met a man so intent on catering to your every whim.
Wooyoung likes to say that it’s the Fates that brought the two of you together but that’s more than a grave exaggeration on his part, it’s an outright lie. If he’d waited on the Fates it’d have been another 200 years before he stumbled upon a female descendant of your bloodline. Finding you by any means necessary, however brutal, was paramount to fulfill his mission and to soothe the heart that ached for what he lost when his love was stripped from him all those centuries ago.
Your resemblance to her is uncanny but everything else about you is incredibly unique. It stimulates him in endless ways, everyday with you marked by some new, exciting experience. He adores you beyond measure and the others, soaking you in through their collective consciousness, have grown incredibly fond of you too. 
“There. Perfect, as always” he smiles, taking a step back to admire your silk adorned figure glowing under the light of the moon.
Atop the labyrinth, you admire the torch lit staircase that spirals beneath you. It emits a certain energy that hangs heavy in the crisp autumn air, drawing you towards it. You know what awaits you tonight. Wooyoung went over it with you a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone. It’s something you long for, something that has your body flush with heat at the mere thought of. Yet you can’t seem to shake the nerves that have your fingers trembling as the handsomely dressed dark haired man takes your hand.
Wooyoung strokes your cheek and you soften at his touch, “Are you nervous, my pet?” 
“Not nervous. It’s just…” you sigh, nibbling at your inner lip, “What if I’m not who you think I am? What if I can’t handle it?” 
Wooyoung lets out a laugh you’ve come to liken to a jackal. Loud, mischievous, and undeniably his. “Can’t handle it? It’s that all you’re worried about?” 
He steps in closer to you, stealing a quick, passionate kiss from your crimson stained lips. “You were made for this. In every lifetime you have been and in every lifetime you’ll always be. Now come, the others are waiting.” You soak in Wooyoung’s words, forever a sponge ready to absorb his praise, and gift him the faint smile he needs to lead you forward.
Less forward, more down. 
Down past walls built of jagged stone, thick vines weaving between the cracks sprouting tiny emerald flowers you’ve never seen before. Down past ancient symbols carved in meticulously measured increments. It seems to be instructions of some sort. For what you aren’t sure but a tugging in the pit of your stomach tells you that you’ll soon find out. 
At last reaching the bottom of the labyrinth you find yourself in a cavernous room dimly illuminated by a hundred or so candles. At the center you spot a large pool of slithering black silk not unlike that which hugs your body. Wooyoung leads you to the center and, as he does, you feel the material begin to writhe against your skin. It snakes its way around your curves, exposing your plush figure to the warmth of the pit as you sense you’ve become one with it.
A chorus of voices begin whispering in your ear, invisible hands grasping at your most intimate areas. Wooyoung captures your lips in another kiss, already groaning at thoughts of what he has planned for you. His hands wander below your waist, fingernails growing sharper as they sink into the softness of your ass. You throw your arms around him, deepening the kiss, but he indulges you only for a brief moment before he begins to back away.
“Soon, my love” he says without speaking a word, “See you on the other side.” 
“Woo, wait!” you call out to him but a strong wind whips through the room, extinguishing the flames of the outer candles and swallowing him into darkness. The force of the wind knocks you off your feet but you land with no impact at all, the pit catching you in its embrace, thin strips of silk winding around your thighs. The air around you floods with laughter layered upon laughter, Woo’s melded somewhere in between. 
“Aah, finally I see her through my own eyes” a voice breathes out, tickling your spine. 
“Such a precious little human. So cute” another much deeper voice hums, the vibration ringing through your chest. 
“And she looks so, so…” a third voice chimes in, light as a feather, “Soft!” 
In the blink of an eye the silk wrapped around your thigh transforms into a hand, pitch black with razor sharp claws dripping a thick scarlet liquid down your leg. You let out a scream of absolute terror and it transforms back into the harmless material. It’s as if it were all in your head and the hand was never there to begin with.
“Seonghwa, you’re scaring her!” Wooyoung shouts and invisible arms envelope you, comforting you as your fear subsides. 
“Oh, no. I’m so sorry. I got a little carried away” Seonghwa apologizes, emerging from the pit in his human form.
He swims through the pit as if it were a pool, only his torso visible as he comes between your legs, his much gentler hands smoothing their way up your thigh. You don’t recognize the face of this beautifully androgynous creature but you’re positive you’ve felt his energy around you before.
“Is this better for you?” he asks, breath hitching at the sight of the slick, sweet arousal dripping from your core. 
“Seonghwa?” you moan his name for the first time as his tongue extends to flick your bud. “Woo’s told me so much about you.”
A shimmer of gold ripples across the dark pools that sit where his eyes should be, lips curling into a grin that’s both alluring and sinister. “Aah and what did he tell you about me? Good things?” he asks, his tongue whipping down to prod your tight hole. Seonghwa delights in the string of moans you release as he teases you, pushing his moist tongue into you little by little. Your walls eager to grant him entrance, stretching to accommodate the increasing thickness and length of his tongue. 
“Good? Y-yes, good” you breathe out, shocked at the depths his tongue manages to reach. There are no limitations, no bottoming out. He slips his way into every part of you. Tickling the back of your stomach, lapping at your walls in every direction at once. You can taste yourself on the back of your tongue, a sudden fullness in your throat suppressing your desperate moans. Your body’s no longer yours. It does only what he wishes it to. Moves only as he commands. 
“You’re being greedy. Share her. Now” something inhuman growls, breaking through the fog in your mind.
It’s not something you were meant to hear, the shedding of those performative voices existing solely for your comfort, but you’re far from afraid. On the contrary, such brutality laced with so much need has you clenching tighter, juices gushing out of you as Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts harshly into your core.
Seonghwa grunts defiantly, lifting you a few inches above the pit without laying a finger on you. Your arms dangle at your sides, fingertips grasping at nothing as your body arches against air. Droplets of your arousal run down your thigh, landing on the silk below and the creatures around you release a collective sigh of satisfaction. They can taste you, the ghost of your flavor lingering on their tongues. 
“You are like the other women in your bloodline…” the inhuman voice whispers, becoming more human the closer it gets, “Delicious.”
Two hands reach from outside of your field of vision to caress your plump breasts, firmly pinching your sensitive nipples. Your head falls to the side and you're met with another new face. This one more boyish in his handsomeness but more authoritative in his presence. Wooyoung told you that you’d know his leader when you met him. That you’d feel this immense need to gain his approval, to be as obedient to him as you can be.
“This is Hongjoong” you think and the leader smiles in response.
“Delicious and smart, mmm” he hums, leaning into your neck and breathing your scent deep into his lungs. “Let her speak.” 
The fullness vacates your throat at once, leaving you gasping for air, all those suppressed moans echoing off the labyrinth’s walls. Seonghwa’s tongue flutters softly inside of you now, his pace slowing just enough for you to speak. 
“You know what you’re here for, don’t you little one? Our Wooyoung’s explained it to you well?” Hongjoong asks, kissing you on the neck, his canines nicking at your smooth, fragrant flesh.
You let out a whine, adrenaline coursing through your veins, “Yes…he…everything…told me.”
Hongjoong laughs at your incoherence, finding it quite adorable, “And this is what you want? To let us have our way with you?” He releases one of your breasts, twisting the bud one last time before his hand's gliding down your body to grab handfuls of your belly. “To let us fill you with our seed and let it grow so that we’ll be, all of us, a family?” 
You’re fixated on him, a constellation of tears twinkling on your lashes, “I want it. I want this.” 
“Aah, then we shouldn’t waste any more time” Hongjoong sighs, gesturing to Seonghwa, “Let’s take her together, shall we?” 
Seonghwa’s tongue retreats slowly from your core in an S motion that makes the tip lash sharply at your walls on its way out. The space between you and the pit below begins to close, all current information misleading you to believe the arms you fall into will belong to Hongjoong.
“Relax your body and watch the skies” Seonghwa instructs as you fall against his chest and the vines between the stone walls climb their way up the ceiling. They radiate a vibrant amethyst, the sprouting emerald flowers emitting a sparkling dust that mists through the air. A trail of it drifts down the wall, drawing your attention to the shadows cast upon it by the light of the candles.
That’s when you see it. The silhouette of the creature crawling its way up your body. You’ve yet to feel him but he’s there, advancing up your figure, twisted horns brushing your cheek as it’s face meets yours. Hongjoong takes you carefully by the throat, tilting your head to face him in his human form, “The skies not the shadows, pet. Never our shadows.” It isn’t a threat and it need not be. Your obedience is promised, sealed with a kiss richer than any wine.
Hongjoong’s mouth sips hungrily from yours as he spreads your legs, the swollen head of his cock leaking arousal as it stretches your already soaked core. “Mmphmm” you whine between his lips, your lids squeezing shut the further he pushes into you. He grants pleasure to your walls unlike any the earthly realm could bring. He seems to transform inside of you, shifting into whatever he must to perfectly fill every ridge of your delicate pussy.
Your body wants to clench around him, to feel him as completely as it can but, no matter how hard you try, an invisible barrier prevents it. Anatomy 101 dictates that, with the size of what you’ve taken, there should be not a centimeter of free space. By all means you should be screaming in agony, not pouring out such blissful moans. But, as Woo said, you were made for this and so there’s room still when Seonghwa’s palms come to rest behind your knees, hips rising to lift his pulsing length into your warmth.
Your eyes fall open and Hongjoong breaks from the kiss, freeing you to gurgle and moan as you at last watch the skies. There’s no need for clenching now, no possible way for you to do so. Buried deep within you, they exist both as one and as two. As one when they thrust into you, their demonic growls contrasting the lightness of your moans. As two when they split at the head, charting their own courses to punish your tender nerve endings. 
Seonghwa nuzzles against your neck, licking beads of sweat from your shoulder before it extends down to trace your collarbone. Hongjoong cups one of your breasts, fingertips digging into its plushness as he purses his lips around your nipple, suckling at the bud. Seonghwa’s tongue envelopes your other breast, the tip of his tongue circling your nipple.
Your body’s overcome with an unnatural heat that ravages you like a wildfire. Your mind’s whirling as you think of everything and nothing at once. Your teary eyes remain glued to the skies—always the skies, never their shadows—and your senses begin to shift. No longer are you smelling the honeyed scent of the flowers, you’re tasting it. And what you smell are colors, amethyst and emerald now aromatic as if they were herbs. 
“You are such a beauty to behold” Hongjoong’s voice praises, breaking through the fractured barriers of your mind. 
Seonghwa’s voice coasts in after his. “We haven’t felt this alive in centuries” it says, tickling your consciousness as does the breath at the back of your neck. “Maybe we could keep her like this. Whining and quivering between us. Forever our plaything. Would you like that, darling?” 
Hongjoong dips a hand between your legs, gathering your slick and dragging his drenched fingers across your lips. His laughter rings out in your head, “I think she likes the idea of it. Maybe…”
“Aaah!” you let out a scream that cracks to pieces in your throat. You’re hit with a rush that makes you feel absolutely feral, your nails thrashing at Hongjoong’s back as it overtakes you. 
“Good girl” he coos, unphased by the blood trickling from his wounds, “Come your pretty little brains out for us.” 
Seonghwa allows your legs to drop, strips of silk reaching up to coil around your ankles. His arms come around your waist, keeping you in place to fuck into you harder and faster. Thrusting. Pulsing. Claiming you. Flooding you with their seed until it’s spilling from your core and you’re coming all over their cocks, soaking them in your juices. Never in your life have you felt this perfect. This complete.
It’s impossible to differentiate between the labored breathing shared between the three of you. Even as you drift down from your high your breaths all sound as if they’ve left the same body. You arrived at this place a human but maybe now not as much. A part of you has been given away and, if it means feeling this way forever, you don’t want it back. 
Seonghwa softly brushes your hair away from your cheek, showering it in kisses, “You’ll rest with us now.” 
“Don’t be afraid” Hongjoong says, kissing his way down your tummy, “It can get a bit dark down here.”
“Down where?” you ask weakly before you’re snatched beneath the surface of the pit. Instinctively you begin flailing your limbs in a desperate attempt to keep yourself from drowning but your panic’s soothed by the two sets of arms cuddling up to you.
Surrounded by their warmth, you let the darkness swallow you and drift off to sleep. 
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♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ 2. Despertar ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰ ♰
“Woo!” you scream, shooting upright, your heart pounding in your ears. You can’t fathom how long you’ve been asleep, the finer details of the previous events lost in the haze of sleep. You look around for Woo, for any of them, but you’re met only with the light, sparkling mist that hung from the ceiling above the pit.
Stretching your aching legs you feel something slink across them. “Wh…what is this?” you gasp, watching the fluorescent vines curiously explore your figure. Flower buds bloom as the vines reach between your legs, curving to ride your thighs up and around your torso. 
“Pretty aren’t they?” Woo asks, appearing behind you without a sound. 
“Woo, you scared me!” you pout, tempted to elbow him in the shin for frightening you so terribly. 
Woo crouches down to loop his arms around you from behind. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect you to be so easily frightened all things considered” he teases, resting his chin on your shoulder. A graceful wave of his hand and he’s plucked a flower from the vine, twirling it before your eyes. You marvel at its beauty, the emerald glow creating a halo around your irises.
“Where do these come from?” you ask, brimming with wonder.
There’s a rustling in a nearby corner, the silhouette of a broad shouldered man emerging from the darkness. He smiles at you as he steps into the light of the mist, striking you with his features. Woo tucks the flower behind your ear, pointing to the approaching man. “They come from the mountain.” 
The man kneels before you, his dimpled cheeks inches from your face, and the vines tighten around you at his will. “But you can call me San” he says, obviously as smitten with you as you are with him. “Are you ready for us, love?”
You swallow hard and take your last full breath of air before the vine’s snug around your neck. “Yes, mmm, ready” you moan softly, surrendering to the strength of the vines. 
San takes you by the chin, his thumb tracing your jawline, “Hmm, breaking you will be fun. Just try not to look down too much. Might get lightheaded.” 
“Down?” you ask, glancing around at the bed of vines. You put all of your focus into watching them, searching for something you might’ve missed. But they’re as they were before, humming and glowing, doing their master’s bidding.
San guides your head in the opposite direction, revealing the pit of writhing black silk and the room illuminated with candles. 
“Oh, darling, haven’t you figured it out yet? You aren't down there anymore” Wooyoung laughs, tossing a flower into the air and watching it drift down into the pit, “You’re up here.” 
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vulpisnocturna · 9 months
Text
Binding Vow
This is purely self-indulgent because I was consumed with the idea of Chrollo and specifically, Yandere!Chrollo. So here it goes. This is filthy and Chrollo is unhinged. Nothing new.
Read on AO3
Part II
Part III
I do not condone this behaviour in real life. This is purely fictional. Please read warnings and avoid if any of them are triggering to you.
Warnings: Yandere Chrollo, dom Chrollo, coercion, dub con (I mean it), psychological manipulation, kidnapping, captivity, possessiveness, obsession, fingering, oral sex (f!receiving), vaginal sex, creampie, praise, slight humiliation kink
Summary: Abducted because Chrollo could not steal your Nen ability, you are ready to give in and trade your power for your freedom. But the choices Chrollo decides to lay in front of you are wholly different. One would say, the illusion of choice. You make him swear a vow to let you go as you make your choice. But one should pay close attention to the words used in a binding vow...
Word count: 7k
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One would think so many candles would be a fire hazard, to be frank. They were everywhere, on every wooden surface, on every shelf that wasn’t overcome with books of all sizes with leather spines, on the nightstands and even on the ground. It was as though the leader of the Phantom Troupe had an obsession with a certain type of aesthetic, and would not refrain from littering his surroundings with candles every time he found a new place where his gang could crash. Perhaps, he had a candle for every person he had ever killed.
Though you supposed one would lose count after a while.
If you were to ingratiate him, you knew what he would appreciate having as a gift; although who needed gifts when your profession was stealing whatever you wanted, whatever thing you had a passing whim for?
As far as you were aware, you were the last passing whim Chrollo Lucilfer had stolen. You had known of his power to steal abilities, and even though you had tried to escape when the Troupe had come to abduct you, it seemed he hadn’t been successful in stealing your power. Yet.
Your Nen power wasn’t meant to fight, really, so the possibility of forcing your way through the Troupe had been preposterous. Your ability was that of having regenerative power, to the point where you could heal fatal wounds to yourself and others. He obviously must have wanted it for himself, and you hadn’t exactly had any way of escaping his wishes.
After a month of captivity, though, you weren’t sure you could bear it for much longer. If all he wanted was your power, why not let him “borrow” it, as he so nonchalantly put it? So you could go back to your own life, so you didn’t have to be locked up in that house, so that he would let you go? Would he even let you go, if you gave him the ability? Or would he want to tie loose ends and get rid of you? You shuddered in the cold air of the bedroom you had been confined to in his absence. 
He had left you to your own devices that day for the entirety of the morning, whilst he had spent all his time with you previously. Studying you, asking you questions, letting you know between the lines that he knew who you were, who your loved ones were, where they lived. He had called you a “treasured guest” in the same sentence, with such audacity that you had been left stunned at the complete lack of morals that man had.
But then again, he also seemed to have some twisted attraction to you. They did say the forbidden fruit was always the sweetest, and because you knew of his power, he couldn’t get to your Nen ability if you did not reveal how it worked and fulfilled his conditions. In the last two weeks, he had taken to something you could only define as an attempt at seduction.
He would sit with you in the living room, inviting you to get closer to him, reassuring you he had no intentions of harming you. He would stare at you with those stormy eyes of his that seemed to burn through you like electricity, and his gaze would rake over your body like he was appraising some kind of rare, expensive object he planned to take for himself. Which he probably was.
Despite knowing who he was, despite knowing how sticky with blood his hands were, you were only a fallible human. And he was... a murderer, a manipulator, a thief; and he was also cunning, intuitive, soft-spoken, caring with you in a sick way, and the most handsome man you had ever met. Despite all of your efforts, it was not possible to deny the effect he had on you. And it was not possible to hide it from him. Observant as he was, obsessed as he was with watching your every reaction, every little twitch of your body, every time your breath faltered when he was too close, every time he commented casually how your pupils were dilating, every time his long, willowy fingers grazed your skin, he could see all of it. And all of it was a twisted game of cat and mouse to him.
Another heist, another plot to strategise and accomplish. He was always composed, always neutral, if not for his sly looks, wily smirks and piercing eyes. He always seemed to have the upper hand. It did not matter that he did not have your power, he seemed to be a patient man.
Until that day.
You had assumed he was waiting for you to break by keeping you captive, although treated with enough civility and never physically harmed, because he had not mentioned wanting your Nen power since the one time he had told you he wished to borrow it. In your mind, he was simply determined to stir the pot and then leave you to stew in it for a while, knowing at some point, your desire for freedom would overcome your attachment to your ability. Letting you run your mind wild with suppositions and conjectures that led nowhere as you tried to analyse his reasons and predict his behaviour. And it was working. You were almost done with it. If he asked you to choose between your power and your freedom, you knew what you would pick.
When he came back from whatever the hell he’d been doing that morning, his appearance was pristine. He was wearing his hair down, no headband in sight, a white shirt with the first two buttons undone and smart black trousers. All in all, he was the picture of what you could only define as sex appeal and sophistication mixed together in a heady blur of sharp eyes, chiselled, angular features and a mellow voice that still managed to sting.
He unlocked your door using a Nen ability he’d probably also stolen and closed it behind him, smiling softly at you as he appraised you.
‘Hello, darling. I hope you did not feel too lonely without my company’ he said easily, conversationally. You disliked the pet names he had started to throw at you in the last two weeks. They made it seem like there was more to this relationship than a prisoner and their warden. More he wanted. But not your ability. No. You. And it made your stomach churn every time. 
You decided to ignore him, because what else could you do? You were locked in a room with him, with no escape, and you had been held captive for a month now. What could possibly make it worse than it already was?
But you were so very naïve. You should have paid heed to his shrewd grey eyes, to the way his lips twitched as though he delighted in knowing something you didn’t, in watching you rack your brains in trying to figure him out.
You had been so naïve in thinking that he had kidnapped you and held you captive to steal your ability. After all, he could torture it out of you. 
Did he just enjoy the game? What did he want? Was there another condition that needed you to be willing to share it with him? That must have been it. He needed you to give it to him willingly, that was why he was going after your mental sanity instead of torturing it out of you.
‘You seem quite tense. Sit with me. I have a proposition for you’ he said, gracefully stepping to your side, brushing his fingers on your lower back, sending shivers down your spine just as your nose caught a whiff of his expensive cologne. His scent was just as intoxicating as he was, something masculine yet refined, a blend that made your lower stomach hot. You fought to keep eye contact as he sat on the plush loveseat by the fireplace, tapping the empty space right next to him, his eyes boring into you with curious amusement. 
You grimaced, feeling weak and dizzy as you sat down on the armchair, the only other surface available to you aside from the bed and the loveseat, which was out of the question. Chrollo’s lips twitched in amusement, his eyes glinting with interest as he rested his cheek against his fist. 
‘I have a few choices for you. I assume you are quite unsatisfied with your current predicament, therefore, I am giving you the chance to escape all the doubt that must be swarming your mind by now’ he said calmly, that little smirk still on his lips. You did not give way to hope. You did not lower your guard. Thieves did not return goods. If they got rid of them, it was after getting something else in return. So what was he playing at? What was his angle?
‘Your distrust is quite strong, dearest. You should learn to hide your emotions more, if you plan to attempt to play me. Though I must admit the thought of it is quite thrilling. So feel free to try it. Your first choice is to give me your Nen ability in exchange for the end of this predicament. Your second choice is to give yourself to me now. I trust you understand the meaning behind my words. If that is your choice, you can start by getting up and walking over here’ he said, smoothly, easily, seductively, his eyes mischievous. 
You blinked, swallowing heavily, your lips parting. He… was making you choose between your Nen ability or having sex with him in exchange for your freedom? The choice was not really that. It was an illusion of it. Perhaps he merely sought to humiliate you, because of course, the reasonable choice would be to get it over and done with, have sex with him just that once and walk away with your life and your ability intact. Who in their right mind would pick the first choice? 
He was hot, charming, attractive. So long as you could separate the part of you that knew what he was, what he did, and the shame that came with prostituting yourself to your captor, it would not be that bad. It would be over quickly, you only had to focus on his physical attributes, shut out his horrid persona.
‘You want me to prostitute myself to you’ you said, your cheeks burning with humiliation. He let out a wilful sigh. 
‘That is an uncouth appraisal of it. It is quite clear from your reactions to me that you desire me, too. Is that prostitution? More of a mutual desire, I’d wager. Rather a small price to pay to retain your power, is it not?’ he asked, smiling sweetly, smugly. You ground your jaw, your whole face feeling hot, your eyes stinging with the embarrassment of your current predicament, as he loved to call your captivity.
‘Why would I want to... have sex with someone like you? A... murderer- a thief, a kidnapper?’ you spat, repulsed, sitting rigidly in the armchair, quite the opposite picture to his nonchalant lounging. He let out a soft laugh.
‘Oh, darling. Are you pretending to have steadfast morals now?’ he crooned, voice soft and mellow. Completely unbothered by your accusations.
‘What are you trying to imply?’ you chewed on the corner of your bottom lip, a movement he followed with a hint of ravenousness in his silvery eyes.
‘Your morals seem somewhat flexible to me. You have been eating food paid with stolen money for a month, sleeping in a stolen mansion, wearing stolen clothes. I trust you were clever enough to know this from the beginning of your sojourn here’ he said casually, seeming almost enthusiastic about debunking every argument you could bring to the table. It was as though he found pleasure in discrediting your beliefs and making you vacillate. Perhaps it stroked his ego.
 ‘I had no choice about sleeping here. Should I have starved? Should I have wandered around naked for a month?’ you snapped, regretting your words immediately when you saw him look at you so intensely. As though he was undressing you himself with his eyes.
‘Well, you certainly could have tried to starve yourself. I would have admired your efforts to cling to your pride and ethical dilemma, and you would not be in this moral conundrum now if you had. You would be able to blame me for it. As to your last point, that would have certainly been a sight. Again, the choice was there. I would not have stopped you’ he said slyly, his voice getting lower and more seductive, like a caress on your spine. You bristled.
‘Those are not choices. Like these aren’t’ you pressed, and he sighed, still smiling like nothing could make him waver.
‘Are they not? You have two paths before you. Every human being is offered choices. Now, be a darling and make one. What will you choose?’ he mused. You closed your eyes, your fingers curling on the fabric of your skirt.
‘You will not steal my power if I- give my body to you now. Right?’ you asked slowly, trying to find a loophole in his words.
‘I will not. If you choose to indulge me now, I will not steal your power’ he said. You gulped. You did not want him to lose his patience and take away your opportunity. You also wanted his word that you would be let out alive and unharmed.
‘And this- this predicament will be done once I do that too. You will not kill me- nor harm me after that. I will be allowed to leave this place alive’ you said cautiously, weighing your words. He smiled.
‘Of course. In order to ease your worries, why don’t I make a vow with you? A condition, if you will. And if I break it, I will die. If this is your choice, and you want reassurance before you continue with it, I will of course be willing to ease your worries. Stand up and come closer’ he said, and you tried not to show your relief. If he was promising, there was nothing to worry about. You could do this, keep your life and your well-being, leave with your power. It was not a bad deal. Not a bad deal at all. You should be happy that he seemed to be attracted to you. That he was even giving you a choice in the matter.
You slowly got up, and your legs felt weak as you stepped closer to him, feeling like his gaze was burning through you. You stopped in front of him, tense like a violin string as a grimoire appeared in his hand.
‘Sit on my lap, darling’ he murmured, and you found yourself feeling all kinds of things in your body, from nerve-wracking anxiety to butterflies in your stomach to warmth in your gut and weakness in your legs. You inched closer to him, gingerly sitting sideways on his lap.
You were immediately engulfed by his enthralling cologne, and his arm wrapped around you, fingers curling on your waist to keep you in place. You squirmed, gulping when he dipped his head to breathe against your neck, making goosebumps appear on your exposed skin.
‘Your scent is intoxicating, dearest’ he breathed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear to expose the side of your face to him. You could not deny how seductive he could be, how tantalising his touch felt. But you would not be swayed from the promise he’d made.
‘The vow first’ you said somewhat nervously, and he smiled, nodding and keeping an arm around your torso as he picked up his book of stolen abilities and flicked through it, stopping in front of a binding vow.
‘Now, I vow that I will not make your Nen ability mine and steal it from you. It will remain yours. I vow I will not kill you, nor will I ask anyone else to do so for me. Should you respect the terms I have presented to you, you will leave this place unscathed within a day, with your power still in your hands. Should I fail to respect these terms, I will die on the spot. Do you accept?’ he said, and you tried to find any loophole that would allow him to kill you or steal your ability in his words, even though his fingers stroking your ribcage were distracting, but you could not find anything. You nodded.
‘I accept’ you said, and he picked up a small dagger from his pocket, shushing you when you gasped and tried to get away. He pricked his thumb, showing you the small droplet of blood that was forming on the surface of his skin.
‘I won’t hurt you. I just need a drop of your blood. Your hand, if you will, darling. Or the vow won’t work’ he said, and you gingerly let him lift one of your hands and prick your thumb. He pressed yours against his, and you could see the aura surrounding your fingers working. You relaxed a little when he threw the dagger away, supposedly letting it pierce the wood of the highest bookshelf so you could not reach it in an attempt to attack him.
He wiped your thumb and his with a handkerchief, tossing it on the table and letting the grimoire disappear.
‘I hope I was successful in easing your worries. Now, where were we?’ he murmured, round, pretty eyes heavy-lidded, lust-laden as they scanned your face. You felt as though you were in the lion’s den for the first time, or more fittingly, a small butterfly trapped in a spider web. Just waiting to be devoured.
He cupped your jaw, stroking your cheek with the pad of his thumb, leisurely taking his time in savouring you. Part of you wished he would just get it over and done with, another part of you, a shameful one, burnt at every action he took, at his stifling seduction. You might as well enjoy it and hope he was good at the very least, right? No one could blame you for it. Your survival was at stake, after all.
You stopped thinking altogether when his lips grazed your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your lips. He was slow and sensual in all of his movements, but there was something that slipped through the façade, something possessive about the way his fingers curled around your throat, trapping you in place as his lips pressed against yours.
They were soft. Soft and smooth, warm and demanding. You could not deny the pull they had. You were coaxed into seeking them out whenever he pulled away slightly, pressing them against you again, more and more passionately each time, almost manipulating you into wanting him to get rougher.
And he did. His teeth sank into the pliant flesh of your bottom lip, pulling lightly, and his tongue was quick to soothe the sting, taking advantage of your little gasp to slip in your mouth and lay siege on your tongue. It was all akin to a game of pull and push with him. He wheedled you into letting go more and more with each time he gave you something only to take it away and revel in how you sought it again. Just as he had presented the illusion of you wanting this from him, he was now making you act on it as though you had always desired nothing more.
Until your fingers were tangled in his soft raven hair, pulling lightly at it, and you were seeking his soft lips and their taste reminiscent of rich red wine to suck on his bottom lip languidly. Until his teeth nipping at your bottom lip had you mewl in his mouth.
‘Eager, are we? How sweet’ he breathed, and you felt the trap snap, the mechanism trapping you like a helpless doe caught by pincers. All of his teasing had led to this, to making you see that you wanted him, wanted this to happen. And as much as you could deny it, your actions spoke loudly, and your body’s reaction did too. The knowledge that you were already turned on and that if he decided to reach between your thighs he would see just how responsive you were to him made the mortification burn in your chest.
You had wanted to keep your dignity and show your distaste for what was happening, but he had managed to reduce you to a docile doll just by kissing your lips. And his sardonic smile and eyes told you that you were right in that assumption.
And before you could hope to collect yourself, his mouth was on your throat, hungry but still slow, leaving you wanting more. He licked a long stripe along your pulse, making it shoot up as his fingers curled around the roots of your hair and pulled, exposing your vulnerable neck to him. You could not restrain the whimper that escaped you as he kissed and started sucking a sensitive spot between your neck and your shoulder, sure to leave a mark to remind you of what you had done, of your flexible morals, as he’d called them.
His fingers clutched your side, wandered down to your hip and the swell of your ass, grazed your thigh and snaked under your skirt to grope at the plump flesh of your backside. You were too lost in the pleasure of his mouth and tongue on your throat to truly consider your situation and who it was that was touching you so possessively, so greedily. If anything, it only stoked the fire within you.
‘Good girl’ he crooned, sending a jolt to your clit with the dirty praise. You squirmed on his lap, eliciting a soft chuckle from him and a graze of his thumb over your stiff nipple. You were wearing a simple satin shirt with a flimsy bralette, and the friction of the material was torturous against your nipples.
Chrollo pulled the shirt out of your skirt, making quick work of the buttons with one hand whilst the other was still kneading your ass and his mouth was still on your throat. He slipped the garment off you, pulling away to observe you. You gulped, averting your eyes at the sight of his hungry stare, quivering as his fingers ghosted your sternum, your ribcage, the swell of your breasts.
‘You are so beautiful, darling’ he murmured, his lips softly pressing against your collarbone, his fingers deftly lowering the straps of your bralette and unhooking it. He tossed it aside, groaning softly as his hand cupped your breast, kneading it in his fingers, pinching your nipple and rolling it between thumb and index finger.
You tried to stifle a moan, to which he seemed to take offense, because he stopped and bit down hard on your shoulder, making you whine in the process.
‘I want to hear you. The more you stifle your voice, the longer I will tease you. Understood?’ he said, and you meekly nodded, only to speak up when he gave you a meaningful glance.
‘Yes’ you hissed, and he seemed pleased, because he hummed and made you arch your back so that his tongue could lick your stiff nipple and flick it. You were careful not to stifle the small whine that left your lips, and he rewarded you by sucking your nipple in his mouth, scraping it with his teeth and making you cling onto his shoulders.
He bunched up your skirt up to your waist, leaving you exposed as he trailed his fingers to your inner thighs, in a silent request to spread your legs. You were not wholly aware of how swiftly you complied, you only knew that when he first cupped you through your panties, your eyelids fluttered and a soft moan poured out of you.
‘You are soaked for me, pet. Your morals do not seem to extend to your body. Try as you might, you want this, and you cannot lie to me’ he purred, dragging his fingers and pressing against your clit, holding you still when you squirmed away from his touch. You let out a loud moan, your hips jerking. He pulled your panties to the side, rubbing your clit and dipping two fingers inside you, curling them, making your head drop on his shoulder as you moaned against his neck, enveloped by the scent of his cologne.
‘That’s it. That’s my good girl. If I knew how much you liked being fingered on my lap, I would have done this much sooner. No matter. I’ll make it up to you, darling’ he breathed, voice slightly strained as though he was holding back something much more primal from taking over, but you were too dazed to take much notice of all the filth he was spewing and how he sought to humiliate you further, because his touch admittedly felt like heaven. His willowy fingers inside you kept pressing against all the right places, and you could not help but clench around them, your hips twitching into his hand every time his palm rubbed against your sensitive clit.
You were lost in the motion of his fingers as you rutted against his hand, shamelessly chasing your own high as he continued to praise you and kiss you, rewarding every sound you made with a curl of his fingers that had you melting in his arms. Until you could not take it anymore.
‘Can’t- ‘m close’ you huffed out, breathing erratic, chest heaving as his fingers pumped inside you, and he hummed, licking your neck and sucking on it again.
‘Cum for me, pet’ he urged, and your eyes scrunched up, a lewd moan ripping through you as you tensed up on his thigh, sound fading away as you came undone.
You slumped on him, breathing heavily, your cunt throbbing around his fingers as he lazily fucked you through your aftershocks, your hair clinging to the back of your neck from the light sheen of sweat that had formed there.
‘Suck’ you heard, and dazed as you were, you obediently opened your mouth when he presented his fingers, sucking and licking the pads of his fingers, tasting yourself. You had to cling to him as he stood up and walked over to the bed, lowering you on it and observing you as he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it off.
There was no denying it, he was attractive. Lean but toned, with graceful abs adorning his flat stomach, jutting collarbones and well-defined biceps; with the way the candlelight danced on his pale skin, making it glow with soft orange hues, he truly looked like he might be a fantasy of sorts.
You supposed he looked like a fallen angel, as his name suggested. Like the Alexandre Cabanel painting of the fallen angel, dangerous but so tempting. It was unfair that he should also be able to make you come undone so easily, when you had vowed to not give him the satisfaction.
He smirked at you, undoing his belt, slipping it through the hooks, catching you staring first at the clear dampness on his thigh, then at the evident bulge of his erection.
You supposed he would fuck you now. If you were being honest, you had thought he wouldn’t have taken such interest in your pleasure, but now, it seemed only fitting: it was all to aid his game, to stroke his ego in humiliating you by showing you how you could not abide by your morals, how you’d moaned and whined to be touched by those blood-stained hands.
Instead, he kept his trousers on, only going so far as to unbutton them to give himself more space. He seemed... quite gifted in that area too, you thought with a grimace. Was there anything that did not favour him? It seemed that fortune graced the wicked in that nonsensical world, because he had it all.
He caged you underneath him, his hair tickling your face as he drew you into a heated kiss, his hands roving down your body, fingertips digging into your hips, tongue pressing against yours.
He was quick to unzip your skirt and slide it off you along with your panties, leaving you completely exposed whilst he still retained his power by not undressing completely.
‘You were so precious squirming on my lap, so good for me. You deserve a reward’ he crooned against your ear in that soft, melodious voice of his, making you swallow heavily as you wondered what he might do to you now.
He did not leave you guessing for long. His mouth traced your collarbone, his head lowering as he licked your sternum and left a dark lovebite above your nipple, another reminder that would bring you back to this room, to what he was doing to you for the following week. He seemed intent on marking you whenever he could, and until he had littered your chest with purple brushstrokes, until you were but a moaning mess, he refused to move on, no matter how much you tried to squirm away and whimper at some of the harshest ones on your ribcage.
He continued to kiss down your stomach, massaging your thighs, cupping your ass and lowering his head to kiss your thighs. You were rendered breathless and unable to stop thrashing and moaning as he sucked another lovebite on your inner thigh, keeping you pinned down and at his mercy. You just wanted him to bury his head between your thighs, you were close, close to begging for it, were it not for your pride. Were it not for who he was.
Fortunately, you did not need to stoop that low. His tongue flattened and dragged up your cunt, tensing and flicking your clit from underneath as he got to the top, tearing a breathless moan from you.
‘You taste so sweet’ he huffed out against your skin, blowing cold air on your clit and making you whine and scoot away. He dragged you back, a wicked light in his stormy eyes as he glanced at you and licked your clit, rolling it on his tongue.
‘F-fuck’ you breathed, your hands shooting to his hair, pulling lightly, trying to ground yourself as he continued to toy with your clit, sucking it and licking it fervently. You could not hold yourself. If he was amazing with his fingers, he was incredible with his tongue. Judging by how he seemed to have a way with words, you should not have been surprised that he was so maddeningly good at pleasuring with his tongue. It was making you lose your mind.
Even if you had tried, you would not have been able to restrain the need to keen, whine and moan every time he sucked your clit, dipped his tongue inside you or drew figures around your clit.
He was insatiable as he flung your thighs on his shoulders, seemingly unbothered with the way you trapped his head and rutted against his face. In fact, he seemed thrilled to follow the movement of your hips, giving you more and more until you were babbling and keening incoherently, unable to even speak.
‘Fuck- Ch- Chrollo...’ you whined longingly, unable to realise your slip of moaning his name in the throes of pleasure. But he heard you loud and clear, because he groaned, and his name on your lips only seemed to spur him on. In a few seconds, he was sucking on your clit, giving you more pleasure than you’d ever thought was even possible, until the torturous knot in your stomach snapped and released and you came with a cry, tears prickling the corners of your eyes, your hair tousled and messy on the pillow, your muscles tensing, toes curling and fingers clawing at the sheets.
You kept your eyes closed for a while, easing into your breathing, feeling as though your body had completely melted, feeling as though you couldn’t even move.
‘You can still take my cock, can’t you, darling? After all, I have made you feel so good. It’s only fair. Do not worry, you will not mind. You seem to love being fucked by the one you spoke of with such revulsion. It’s quite endearing, watching you struggle with your morals’ he crooned, and you opened your eyes, watching him stroke his cock a few times. It was quite long and fairly thick, slightly tilted upwards.
You were too fucked out to consider his taunting, but you knew he was right. Both mindsets could not peacefully coexist in your mind: how could you be so willing and find so much pleasure in someone like him? How could you hate him and love what he was doing to you? It might have been an involuntary physical reaction, but you should have had more resolve, more restraint. Otherwise, what did that say about you?
Chrollo lined himself between your legs, rubbing his cock along your labia, on your clit, instantly making those thoughts fade in the haze of pleasure as you let out a soft sigh and automatically tried to hook your legs around his slender hips.
He gripped your thigh, pushing the tip of his cock inside you, easily slipping inside inch by inch with how shamefully wet you were, and yet, you already felt so full, like he was stretching you to the limit. You clawed at his back, raking your nails across his shoulder blades, gasping and whimpering along with his soft moan.
‘Fuck. So tight... so wet. Such a perfect little cunt’ he huffed out, his lips parting in pleasure, dark eyebrows furrowing. You tried to steady your breathing, tried to relax your muscles to accommodate his size, clung to his shoulders for support.
He wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, continuing to push inside you, albeit slowly, until he was buried to the hilt. You clenched around him, and the soft groan he let out made your stomach drop with a surge of pleasure. He bottomed out and slammed back in, tearing a broken moan from you as he set a ruthless pace, his eyes darkening with lust and the slip of his mask, hunger palpable in his every movement and the way he sought to fully claim you.
He lifted your legs higher up around his waist, his fingers tightening around your throat, not pressing on the front, leaving you room to breathe but making you even more dizzy than you already were.
His pelvis kept slapping against your clit, drawing out whines and pants from you, and with every thrust, he seemed to grow more accustomed to where you liked to be touched, because as soon as his cock pressed against your g-spot, your back arched and your head thrashed from side to side, a lewd moan echoing in the room as you clamped around him.
‘There, huh? Let me do it again, darling’ he breathed, one hand lifting both your legs and bending them at the knees, letting you rest them against his chest as he rammed into you, hitting the same spot again and again, relentlessly building the pressure inside you, making you see stars.
‘Mhh- too much... Chrollo’ you whined, trapped underneath him, feeling as though you might implode if he didn’t stop- or if he stopped, for what it was worth.
‘Moan my name again, pet. Let me hear how filthy it sounds on your lips’ he grunted, the sound of skin slapping against skin both enticing and dirty as he continued to fuck you into the mattress.
When you didn’t reply, suddenly aware of how you were moaning his name, reinforcing how you knew- wanted it to be him to fuck you at that moment, he let out a breathless laugh.
‘Looks as though you might need some convincing’ he said, slowing down and eventually slipping out of you, letting your legs down. You whimpered, desire clawing at your gut, your cunt clenching around nothing as you opened your bleary eyes and set them on him. He gave you a smirk, flipping you on your stomach and lifting your hips, spreading your knees with his and pushing on your lower back to make you arch into him. You lifted yourself on your elbows and heard his tongue click against his teeth condescendingly before he pushed your head against the mattress and smacked your ass with a resounding slap.
You yelped, biting down on your lower lip, mortification once again mingling with pleasure as he pushed his cock back inside you, letting out a soft groan.
‘Use your hands one more time and I will tie them up behind your back. It will feel better like this. For me- and for you’ he said, fisting your hair and gripping your hip, starting to pound into you from behind once again.
It did feel better like this. Deeper. Unbearable. He stimulated your clit with every thrust, the tip of his cock kept pressing against your cervix, and you did not know if you could bear it much longer.
You found the bridge of your nose damp with tears, and struggled to recognise your own voice in the filthy moans you were letting out. It was humiliating and it was impossibly pleasurable, and the mix was somewhat addicting, tainting. It was ruining every shred of sanity left in your brain.
Until he got what he wanted. Because it seemed as though he always did. He could steal anything, including his name from your lips said with such want and bliss that had you not been fucked stupid, you would have wanted to die.
‘Ahh- Chr- Chrollo! Fuck. Gonna cum’ you screamed, sobbing, clenching around him, getting even closer to a mind-shattering orgasm with every moan and groan he graced you with.
‘Good girl. My girl. Mine. You love this, mh? Tell me how much you love this. Tell me how badly you want to cum all over my cock’ he urged, voice possessive and low, and you could not stop yourself, could not do anything but acquiesce, because you needed- needed to cum.
‘Yes! Please. Please let me cum. Please. Need it so bad’ you whined, sobbed even, desperate for reprieve, hoping he would have mercy on you, hoping he would let you finish. His fingers reached under you to rub at your clit, and you could hardly contain a sob of wild pleasure and the jolt of your hips.
‘Since you asked so nicely. Go on, pet, cum for me’ he huffed out, still thrusting inside you at that unrelenting pace, and as though he had power over your own body, you felt the release hit you like a wave of overwhelming pleasure that made your vision white and your ears fill with static.
He was quick to cum with a breathy moan as you squeezed his cock through your orgasm, holding you tightly as he spilled inside you. He continued to push in and out slowly, until you stopped throbbing and squeezing around him.
‘Fuck’ he breathed, letting you collapse on the bed and doing the same next to you. You both stayed silent for a minute or two, catching your breath, feeling the cool air on your feverish skin.
‘Let me clean you up, darling’ he said, and you didn’t have the strength to object as he got up and walked away, the sound of his footsteps quiet as you kept your eyes closed until he came back with a glass of water and a wet towel, his trousers back on, but still shirtless. He wiped your inner thighs gently, with more care than you wanted to admit someone like him could be capable of, and carefully lifted you up so you could drink the water he’d brought you.
You took small gulps, finding it felt amazing trickling down your dry, raw throat after all that crying and screaming. He only put the glass on the nightstand when you had finished it all.
‘Thanks’ you said absent-mindedly, your mind slowly coming back to you in coherent thoughts as you attempted to cover yourself with the duvet. He gave you a languid smile, tucking your hair away from your face and lying next to you.
But it was finally over now. You could leave. Your deal had revealed itself to be better than you wanted to admit, but now, you were finally free. You could put this all behind you.
You tried to get up and gather your clothes, but your body felt like a ragdoll. He had really done a number on you.
‘Careful, dearest. You should wait a little’ he said, smiling at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. You let out a shuddering breath.
‘Want to get... my clothes, and leave’ you said, getting up and hastily putting on your clothes, feeling a little dizzy. You walked back towards the bed, retrieving your underwear and your skirt, putting them on, almost falling were it not for his arms catching you and holding you still.
You felt weird. It had surely been intense, but so intense that your vision was slowly darkening around the edges and your arms and legs felt as heavy as lead?
He pulled you on his lap, and you protested weakly when he started to stroke your hair and kissed your forehead.
‘No- you said I would be free after this. Let me leave’ you slurred, and he shushed you, tenderly stroking your back in soothing gestures.
‘Oh, darling, I never said you would be free’ he said softly, still holding you. You blinked, confused, his face blurry as you stared at him.
‘You said- I’d be leaving this place- with my power... un...scathed within... a day. What d’you do to me?’ your words were garbled together, slurred like you were drunk. And you felt so heavy and tired.
‘I put a few sleeping pills in the water I gave you. Nothing that will harm you, so don’t worry your pretty little head. I don’t need to steal your power if I keep you. You will leave unscathed, but I never said you would leave alone. You should really pay more attention to the words of a vow, my love’ he said, stroking your hair, his soft voice lulling you into sleep despite how horrified you were in your mind. He had tricked you. Had no plans of freeing you. You hadn’t considered he might keep you. Hadn’t considered the depth of his obsession with you. Hadn’t considered there was more than one reason why he had kept you captive.
‘I cannot be parted from you, my love. Your place is by my side. Now close your eyes. Sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us’ he said gently, soothingly. And you could not help but do as he said, your eyelids growing heavier and heavier, your thoughts muddying and fading away along with your consciousness.
Part II here
Part III here
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fangsandfeels · 7 months
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Got hit with more thoughts about spawns and Cazador...
...and naturally, I'm posting it here because I'm no longer a functional human being.
I remember the lingering question that Astarion seemingly being only one of the spawns using seduction to lure victims in. At least, there is no menition of other’s doing so, except for Petras. So, why is that? Why Astarion was the only one?
In my opinion, it stems from Cazador’s very particular choice of victims. In all these years, he acquired only seven spawns (except for the thousands of Turned nobody knew about), and almost all of them used to be accomplished or talented people:
- Violet, a beloved and talented songbird from Reithwin;
- Dalyria, a respected doctor working in the Parliament;
- Leon, a sorcerer (a spell modifiaction he came up with shows how good he is at his magic);
- Astarion, a magistrate with a promising future, centuries of life ahead of him, and a beauty worthy of a thousand paintings.
Following this tendency, we can assume that Yousen, Aurelia, and Petras also were similarly talented or good at something enough to attract Cazador’s attention and make him envious.
The bastard thinks very highly of himself. He calls himself the most intelligent and beautiful creature out there, and spends hours writing letters to other vampire lords, trying to convince them of his grandeur. He attempts to inflate his ego, making it finally big enough to overcompensate for his miserable inferiority complex, in any way he can: so, whenever he spies someone with a talent or potential, someone who might be better than him at anything, he snuffs them away, adds to his collection, and then breaks them over and over, making them believe that they’re nothing. He is the father who gives them purpose; they are his spawn who owe him everything; and everything they have belongs to him.
And maybe, aside from tortures, and humiliation, and gaslighting, and forcing “siblings” to hurt each other, he came up with one more way to break them - when he forces them to hunt, he forces them to use everything that made them special, loved, respected, and admired for the most gruesome things.
- Violet, previously a talented singer whose voice was fondly remembered up to Reithwin’s fall, using her voice to catch attention; using her image and charm to lure people into the palace to their death.
- Dalyria, picking her victims around apothecaries and temples that responded to the people's suffering by closing doors in their faces, seeking out refugees and ailing citizens low on coin, offering to help them, kindly inviting them to “her place” (if we take Karlach’s family as an example, finding a healer who would agree to help a less-than-wealthy family is quite a problem at the city).
- Leon, using his talents and magic to nab people from the street, to drag them to Cazador without a fight while knowing that he will never be able to use the same power against the bastard himself.
- Astarion, a previously sophisticated, proud, and beautiful elf, stripped of his dignity and pride, using his body to either seduce poor young and inexperienced souls (fulfilling their image of an ethereal and caring lover) or let himself be pawed at by drunkards and brothel-goers.
I don’t think any of Cazador’s choices were accidental. I don't think he had to roam the streets at night, looking for potential candidates; that he ever Turned any of them by chance.  
They all caught his eye at some point, became an object of his obsession, and then fell victim to a scenario where they were confronted by a promise of salvation - and each time, it made Cazador giddy with excitement and a sense of self-importance. He took them away from the world because he could. He will twist and shape them to his whim because he can. And then, he will take everything from them, reducing them to miserable wretches because this is who they should be, compared to him.
They will belong under his heel, scared, helpless, and obedient, worshipping him and fearing him. Forever.
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flowerandblood · 3 months
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The Taste of Desire (AU)
[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]
[ warnings: sex with soft domination, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, remorse, doubts related to sex work ]
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[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients − however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. One of his clients surprises him with her behaviour, making him experience something he has never felt before, with his own actions and emotions slipping out of his control. Sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]
This oneshot is an alternative universe for my series The Taste of Shame in which Aemond meets the main character as his client. It shows how their lives would have turned out and what their first time would have been like if Aemond had done it for money. Created to celebrate my anniversary on 22 March.
Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet
* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *
My other series: Masterlist
_____
He was never picky when it came to his female clients. They had to meet basic standards like hygiene, no venereal diseases and they couldn't go beyond a certain time, but once they signed a confidentiality clause, what he was going to do with them was no longer important to him.
He kept repeating to himself that he was there for them, not them for him, so he focused on giving them what they wanted in a way that didn't disturb his comfort zone.
He did not allow them to kiss or touch him with their hands − in fact, he preferred that any involvement they had in what was happening was minimal. What he found most pleasing in the whole act was his violence towards them, and the more they consented to, the more he was satisfied.
Their pleas and cries of pain combined with some subconscious pleasure that such sadomasochism gave them made him struggle to hold back the mocking smile that pressed against his lips.
They wanted to be treated like worthless objects, and that's what he was giving them, because that's exactly how he thought of them.
He didn't try to delve into considering what he thought of himself, because he decided that would end up with a visit to a psychiatrist. He was studying quantum physics, lived far away from his family and needed a steady, high source of income − since silly girls could make money from sex cams, he could make money that way, at least until he had no other prospects.
The only way to contact him was through an online form on his website, where they would write why they wanted to meet, indicate what suited them or not, and if he felt he could meet their whims, he would arrange to meet them to discuss the details and sign the documents.
Scrolling through dozens of similar messages about tying, gagging, beating and humiliation he stopped on one where only a few things were marked. He thought surprised that he wouldn't even link them to aggressive domination per se, and certainly not the kind he usually used.
Good morning. I've been thinking a lot lately about what I'd like to try, but I'm also a bit embarrassed about it. I don't know if this can be subsumed under your interests − I'm completely inexperienced, so maybe that's why I'm looking for a professional who knows what he's doing and would be able to show me what I actually need and want. I apologise for the rather chaotic explanation and send my regards. Selected practices: spanking, verbal domination, fingering
He blinked and scratched his chin, both intrigued and uncertain at the same time − he glanced quickly at her age and saw that she was younger than him. He bit his lower lip feeling that something in the idea that she was still inexperienced and only willing to explore her needs attracted him, the thought that this would be some sort of challenge for him.
He decided that why not.
She was an adult.
He looked forward to meeting her with the utmost curiosity. Her requirements were basic enough that he didn't need to prepare any extra kinks, and since she didn't want sex with penetration, it also gave him a greater sense of confidence and peace of mind − he knew he wouldn't have to chase his orgasm, imagining some woman from porn, and would be able to concentrate only on what he was doing to her.
When he heard a quiet knock on the door of the flat he rented only to meet his female clients, he got up immediately from behind his desk and opened it for her, swallowing hard as his gaze involuntarily swept over her figure and stopped on her face.
God.
This was not what he had expected.
She looked even younger than she had written; her eyes were big and bright, looking at him with fear and dread, though usually the women who came to him, learned by experience, kept their gaze meekly on the floor, waiting for him to command them to look at himself.
She was dressed in a plain white Tshirt and high-waisted jeans, a fabric coloured backpack on her back, her hair loose, shiny, dark, slightly wavy − he could smell the fruity scent of her perfume or shower gel.
He grunted quietly, trying to keep a stony face, feeling that involuntarily his gaze expressed shock. He took a few steps back and invited her in − she stepped inside uncertainly, turning away quickly as he closed the door behind her.
"Come in. Do not be afraid." He said lowly, pointing to his desk which stood in the deeper part of the flat − she walked in that direction, looking in horror at the bed standing on the other side of the room.
He heard her swallow hard, tense and red, pulling her backpack off her back − she placed it in her lap immediately after she sat down in the chair opposite him, as if trying to ward off and protect herself from him in this way.
He took his seat on the other side and tapped his index finger on the top of his wooden oak desk, thinking that he had never had a client like her before.
She was completely distracted, her gaze sweeping across the room as if she were a curious child, her fingers tightening on the material of her rucksack.
"As I mentioned, first the contract and confidentiality clause." He said calmly, handing her copies of the contract and clause he had sent her earlier.
She took them from him and looked into his eyes again, making him swallow hard; it wasn't a defiant look and it wasn't meant to seduce him. It seemed to him just the opposite − she wanted to show him that some part of her was genuinely afraid of him.
She nodded, her hands trembling all over as she took the sheets of paper in her hands − she looked around quickly and clumsily grabbed a pen.
He wondered, seeing what was happening to her, if what she wanted was really good for her and although he never meddled in his clients' decisions, he decided to intervene, for her sake and his own.
"You can still resign. I won't burden you with the cost." He said lowly, watching her closely, and saw that she flinched all over. She lifted the gaze of her bright eyes to him, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her mouth opened and closed as if she was trying to get something out of herself.
"I…I think I want to try. This one time. Do you think it's a bad idea, sir?" She asked him in a trembling, soft, girlish voice. The note of innocence that lurked in this after all defiant question made him twist in his seat, feeling surprised that his manhood swelled a little − he felt like he was literally burning her with his gaze.
He thought it was because she was so vulnerable − it turned him on that he was more experienced than her and had real control over what could happen next if she wanted it.
He chuckled involuntarily at her words, shaking his head, sighing quietly, looking at her indulgently.
"What I think about it doesn't matter." He murmured lowly, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair with a loud creak of wood.
He felt heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of her not dropping her gaze, boldly staring him in the face as if they had known each other for a long time, despite the fact that most women knew their buttocks would be red and swollen like tomatoes for such insolence.
"I would, however, like to hear your views on the matter, sir." She replied quickly, as if she recognised him as some sort of authority on the matter, a sexologist or anyone else who could give her a diagnosis.
"I am not a doctor. However, I don't think there is anything wrong with trying under controlled conditions. You also have a safe word that you can use at any time to stop whatever I'm doing. You have to decide." He said finally, and saw her nod her head, drawing in air loudly as if gathering her courage, and leaned over, signing the documents in the spaces indicated.
For some reason he involuntarily licked his lips, dried from some kind of excitement, his cock twitching hard in his trousers at the thought that she was really going to do this.
When she finished he took the papers from her, signed them and gave her one copy, reminding her of all the rules they had agreed and what she could not do.
"You can't touch me or kiss me. When we start, you are to call me sir and follow all my instructions. You are to answer all my questions by shaking or nodding your head unless I order you otherwise. I will not stop even if you beg me or cry until I hear your safe word which, please remind us, sounds how?" He asked softly, stapling the papers she had signed with a stapler, tucking them into his drawer, watching her out of the corner of his eye, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the very thought of what he was going to do to her.
Why was he so aroused when he hadn't even touched her yet?
"Peach." She muttered embarrassedly, looking down at her hands.
For a moment he wondered if he should add the rule he usually made where a woman couldn't look him in the eye, but something in her eyes captured him − her gaze wasn't seductive or filled with feelings he didn't want to see. He also guessed that forbidding it might overwhelm her even more, and he didn't want that.
He nodded at her words, rising, and she rose with him, holding her backpack in front of her, her shoulders raised slightly in a defensive gesture, as if she was afraid of him and the fact that she had somehow given him control over her.
He approached her slowly, looking at her vigilantly − her eyes fixed on his face as his hand took the rucksack from her arms in a gentle motion, dropping it next to her on the floor. His fingers rose to her cheeks, trailing over them, her jaw and her chin − he felt her tremble all over, surprised, her swollen, plump lips red with emotion.
Although he had never done this, he wanted to get a good look at her first − he knew that going straight to putting his hand in her panties would only frighten her and in this situation his tactics had to be a tad different.
First and foremost, he wanted to reassure her.
He saw that she had closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly through her mouth as his hands slid down to her neck and her soft hair. He thought, smelling her fruity scent, that he would have given anything to have her kneel before him and take his achingly hard manhood into her mouth.
He decided that perhaps he would use his thoughts to embolden her a little more and let him do what he wanted.
"Such a sweet girl. You have no idea what I'd like to do with those lips." He hummed, feeling a shiver pass through her as one of his hands rose higher again, to her face, parting her lips with his thumb. "How hard I am now."
He saw the shock in her gaze, which quickly escaped down to the bulge in his trousers, her cheeks flushed as she looked up into his face again, her breathing quickened and ragged.
He sighed involuntarily at the sight.
"You can say a lot of things about me, but not that I'm a liar. Open." He commanded in a slightly cooler, stricter tone, her lips immediately parted slightly, allowing his thumb to slide deep between her fleshy, wet lips.
"Suck." He instructed, a quiet moan caught in her throat, her body suddenly quivering as the fingers of his free hand slid lower to her breast, teasing her nipple in calm, circular motions, her lips tightening around his thumb, obeying his command.
"Do you always walk around without a bra? Hm? Do you like it when men look at them?" He muttered warningly, pulling lightly on her nipple, looking at her curiously − she squirmed helplessly, closing her eyes, not knowing what to do with her hands. He could see how, in some subconscious reflex, she wanted to lift them up and embrace him, but reminded herself that she couldn't do that and lowered them again, moving him in some way and arousing him at the same time.
He couldn't remember if his client had ever made him completely hard by her behaviour itself.
"Quiet. We haven't even started properly yet, and already you want me to slap your arse?" He growled mockingly, and she shook her head quickly, drawing in air loudly, looking at him with a pleading look of her big, bright eyes, which he felt between his thighs as his cock swelled unbearably, demanding attention.
"This is my last warning. Lie on your stomach." He said coldly, although inside he felt like his body was on fire.
She obediently pulled off her shoes and lay down on the bed, watching, embarrassed, as he slipped his thumb, moist with her saliva, between his lips and licked it. He quickly pulled off his sweatshirt and shoes, leaving in his black short-sleeved T-shirt and trousers, fixing his hair with a careless flick of his hand.
"Leave only your panties on." He added, hearing her quiet squeal as his large hand gave her one, light, sharp smack on her buttock, just as an encouragement to keep her going.
"Just like that. So pretty." He hummed, watching her undress, climbing onto the bed behind her. He involuntarily licked his lips and grinned in amusement when he saw that underneath her trousers she was wearing pretty lace panties in powder pink.
He thought she was like a lollipop or candy, a sweet little gift bought just for pure pleasure.
As she pulled off her t-shirt she clung with her breasts to the bedclothes, looking somewhere sideways towards the window as if she was afraid of how exposed she was, that she was lying half-naked in front of a strange man who, on top of that, she was going to have to pay for it.
Although he cursed himself for it in the back of his head, the sincerity and naturalness of her behaviour endeared her to him − he thought in disbelief that he wasn't sure that even if she had asked him to punish her more harshly or to cause her intense pain he would have been able to do it.
Would it give him pleasure.
He took her hair aside, exposing her long neck and back, felt her shudder all over as his fingers ran along her spine.
"Are you going to be good, or should I tie you up?" He murmured and she nodded quickly − he hummed under his breath, stroking her bare skin. "Use your words."
"I'll be good. Sir." She added quickly, hearing him shift suddenly in irritation. He let out a loud breath through his nose, leaning down, grasping her wrists in his hands, placing them on either side of her head, showing her the position he expected her to hold them in.
"Your hands are supposed to be here at all times. On the pillow. If I see you take them away from here, I'll tie you up and on top of that, I'll give you ten slaps on the bottom to make sure you remember this lesson well. Do you understand? Use your words." He hissed, driving his fingers into the skin of her wrists, heard her swallow hard and nod her head quickly.
"− y-yes, sir −"
He gasped softly, pleased with her answer and the way it was going − he saw her hands tighten on the material of the pillow as he settled his knees on either side of her buttocks, lowering himself onto them so that she could feel his cock throbbing all under the material of his trousers. She stifled the cry that wanted to escape her lips by pressing her face against his bedding.
"− do you fucking feel it? − do you feel what you're doing to me? −" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, not knowing why instead of pulling himself together and concentrating on his task he was teasing her, making his manhood painfully hard − he clamped his eyelids shut when he felt her hips begin to buck uncertainly to the rhythm of his movements.
He decided that fuck it, he would do it the way he felt like it, breaking his own rules, knowing that unlike the other women, she really needed this.
His closeness.
She sighed loudly and her whole body trembled as he pressed his face against her soft, fragrant hair, crushing her with his own weight, his hands roamed over the skin of her bare shoulders and the sides of her waist as his nose slowly slid lower, down to her neck, his fingers slipped underneath her and tightened on her soft, plump breasts as his lips pressed against her bare skin.
He heard her start to pant loudly through her mouth, surprised as he was, surely imagining it differently, writhing beneath him, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her breasts, his hot breath enveloping her ear.
"− lie still or we'll do it rough − spread your thighs −" He growled, his thumbs pressing and playing with her nipples. He spread her legs with his knees, making her breath catch in her throat − he could feel her heart pounding fast under his hands, his tongue ran over the bare skin of her neck, smelling the salty taste of her sweat and the sweet taste of her perfume.
"− you're already wet, hm? − shall we check? −" He sneered, sliding the palms of his one hand down her belly − he saw out of the corner of his eye that her fingers clenched tightly on the fabric of the pillow, her whole body stiffened, her head tilted slightly as his fingertips pushed the soft, soaked material of her underwear aside, sinking into her leaking, fleshy womanhood.
"− good God − look at you − all sticky and warm −" He gasped as his fingers began to tease and squeeze her clit lightly, giving her a few encouraging strokes from which helpless, muffled sounds tried to escape her throat − his hand let go of her breasts for a moment and slapped her buttock with all his might, reminding her that she was supposed to be quiet.
He didn't even notice when he started rubbing against her faster from the top, chasing his own fulfilment, completely aroused by what was happening to her, how she was responding to him.
He felt like his cock was about to explode.
"− moan for me − let me hear these sweet sounds −" He whispered in her ear, driving his fingers harder into the soft, leaking structure of her folds.
Moan for me?
What the fuck was that supposed to be?
He sighed when she cried out loudly, clenching her eyes, writhing all under him, again and again rubbing his sore cock with her buttocks. He felt ashamed that even though he was the master of the situation, it seemed to him that somehow it was she who was dictating how it looked, or rather his inability to treat her as he did his other clients.
There was something innocent about her, that her goal was not for him to humiliate her, beat her or hurt her, but for him to guide her, to show her what she really desired and what he could do with her body.
He thought, running his fingertips over her moist, hot slit, that perhaps this was what he had been craving deep inside himself all this time.
"− ah − please, sir −" She mewled helplessly, and he felt her words between his thighs. He licked his lips, trailing his fingers over her throbbing, weeping cunt, teasing her hard nipple with his other hand, each of his movements accompanied by the loud click of her moisture.
"− what are you asking me to do? − use your words −" He exhaled, feeling that he was embarrassingly close to climax himself, and wondered if he was going to cum in his own trousers for the first time in his life.
"− please − please, put it inside me −" She mumbled out and he swallowed hard feeling her buttocks rubbing against his cock.
He froze for a moment, running his fingers over her hot, leaking folds, fighting with himself, on the one hand wanting only this, on the other the contract was different and he never broke the terms he himself had agreed to and signed.
What if, afterwards, she found that she didn't want it and decided that he had raped her, go to the police with it?
This thought sobered his mind a little, though his whole body shuddered with disappointment, his two fingers suddenly forced their way inside her with her moan of pleasure.
"− I can't − you know I can't, don't you? −" He breathed out, pressing the tips of his fingertips into the fleshy structure of her muscles, searching for the spot hidden between them.
She shuddered all over when he felt it a moment later, his thumb trailing over her clit as his two fingers dug in between her slick folds with a loud click of her wetness − he felt her whole body tense in anticipation, again and again his fingers squeezed her the way she needed it.
"− I'll be good, sir − please − please − please − I'll be good −" She cried out, her sticky walls began to clench around his fingers, sucking them inside and he closed his eyes, imagining he felt it on his hard, aching cock.
How tight she was.
He'd never done this before and he knew he shouldn't, but for some reason he was desperate, his mind clouded by what he'd seen and what he needed.
He watched her face in disbelief, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her lips parted sweetly in a loud, accelerated breath.
"We can do this, but on my terms. I'll just fuck you, nothing more. No money. Do you understand?" He asked her in a trembling voice, as if he wanted to make sure she understood, that it meant nothing to him, that she just turned him on too much and he wanted to take it out on her.
He saw her eyes open suddenly, fear and relief filling her gaze as she whispered just a few words without looking at him.
"Let me look at your face, sir."
He himself didn't know when he suddenly flipped her onto her back as his lips clung with a loud purr to her hard, swollen nipple, sucking and licking it − he heard her moan loudly, startled, making him lose his temper. His hands in a helpless reflex slid down to the button of his trousers and his zipper, releasing his erection quickly, he wasn't sure he had ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time.
He knew things had gotten out of hand and that he would regret it, but he couldn't deny himself, knowing that he would probably never see her again.
"Don't touch me. Do you understand? If you touch me, I'll stop and I'll slap your arse so hard you won't be able to sit for the next few weeks." He hissed, looking her straight in the face, reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out the condom −she merely nodded, her hands clenched on either side of her face, her swollen lips parted in a quick, uneven breath.
He looked at her pretty figure, her sweet, plump breasts, her flushed face, her hair in disarray, and thought helplessly that she was beautiful and that he would go mad if he didn't do this to her.
Never before had he put a condom over his length as quickly as he did then − with a quick, sure, impatient movement he slid her panties off her, already all wet with her moisture, grabbed her by her hips and pushed her closer, momentarily forcing her tight, leaking folds to let him inside her.
He didn't speak, because he didn't know what he was supposed to say either, ashamed of his own desperation as he pushed deeper into her with a sure, sharp thrust.
He began to pound into her as if he had completely lost his mind, fast and out of control − she threw her head to the side, writhing beneath him, moaning loudly, her walls wonderfully moist and hot, clenching on him so tightly that he struggled to restrain himself from cumming just yet, not wanting to humiliate himself.
"− oh God −" He muttered, looking at her as if through a fog, leaning over her, his hands found hers, her fingers clenched on them, seeking proximity − she looked up at him pleadingly, panting and quivering.
He suspected that never before had anyone fucked her at such a brutal, fast pace from which she couldn't catch her breath, her thighs spread wide before him in a gesture of trust, their bodies slapping against each other with the loud clicks of her wetness.
"− these idiots couldn't even fuck you properly, hm? −" He panted low and she only nodded, his fingers intertwining with hers in some subconscious reflex, as if he wanted to show her that he understood her, that she had a right to be disappointed, that he had no idea how any man could fail to give her what she needed.
"− my poor little baby − am I right? −" He breathed out and she cried loudly and nodded her head, something in her gaze, in her eyes flooded with tears, filled with despair, tenderness and relief made him lean lower and cling to her lips.
She moaned loudly into his throat and he felt her walls squeeze him tightly with a sudden, intense orgasm, sucking him inside as his tongue invaded between her lips. She reciprocated his kiss with such devotion that a few of his helpless, sloppy thrusts were enough to make him cum into the condon.
"− fuck − fuck, baby −" He breathed out into her mouth as if she was his, as if they were in his bed in his flat, as if he loved her and was about to have dinner with her or go to sleep lying next to her, as if she wasn't a stranger to him, her sweet scent, her innocent sounds and the taste of her mouth were all that filled his mind as he continued to rock his hips deep inside her.
Even though they had both came, they didn't stop kissing, their lips joining and pulling away from each other lazily with a loud click of their saliva, his hands roaming up and down her fingers, alternately stroking them and entwining them with his own again.
Something about what was happening between them, about this sudden, unexpected closeness calmed him and made him completely drift off.
He knew that she had wanted to touch and kiss him from the very beginning, but she still respected his decision and his rules.
And he, for some reason incomprehensible to himself, broke them for her.
He pressed his face to her cheek, panting along with her, unsure of what he should do now, distracted and ashamed that he couldn't help himself, that for the first time in his life he had overstepped the time and competence he should have given her.
And that wasn't good.
What if she thinks now that they are in love with each other, that maybe one day they will be together? If she starts writing to him and stalking him like so many women before her?
"I'm sorry." He heard her whisper and shuddered, snapped out of his reverie.
He opened his eyes and met her gaze, her hands still on either side of her head. He grunted quietly, horrified at how close she was, that he could smell her pleasant scent so intensely, her breath, the warmth of her body.
"I'm the one who should apologise. I behaved unprofessionally. I won't take money from you." He replied after a moment, and she shook her head, shocked.
"− n-no, why − I mean − after all, you did what we agreed to do − you gave me your time, I −"
"− you're not the kind of person who would enjoy a strong dominant-submissive interaction − you'd be terrified − you're worrying too much − probably those guys before me didn't ask you what you needed, hm? − that's what I thought − there's nothing wrong with you − that's my diagnosis −" He hummed, sighing heavily, lifting himself up on his elbows, placing a lingering, tender kiss on her forehead.
He slipped out of her gently with her quiet hiss of discomfort − he saw her press her lips together when he slided the shed condom off his manhood and tie it off, tossing it into the small bin standing next to his bed, zipping his trousers back up. He saw her reach with a trembling hand for her underwear and sighed under his breath, shaking his head.
"Wipe yourself well first, the tissues are lying on the table next to you. Don't you have underwear to change into?" He asked uncertainly, realising that this was usually obvious to the women who visited him, as it was to him, so he didn't warn her, thinking she would figure it out for herself.
She shook her head quickly and he sighed heavily, taking a bottle of water standing on the table, unscrewing it and handing it to her, seeing that she completely didn't know what she should do with herself now.
"− drink − you'd better just wipe yourself off and put your trousers on −" He replied and she nodded, red with embarrassment, taking a few deep sips of water without looking at him.
He turned away as she started to get dressed, running his hand over his face, recognising that he was an idiot and had completely lost his fucking mind, unable to forgive himself for fucking her even though their terms were different.
He shuddered as she approached him quietly − he thought terrified that she was going to try to touch him, maybe even thinking they were going to become lovers now, but she just held a bundle of banknotes in front of him, looking at him pleadingly.
"− I already told you I won't take it − keep it −"
"− I can't, after all −"
"− don't piss me off −" He growled, and she pressed her lips together, lowering her hand, swallowing loudly.
They stared at each other for a long moment in awkward silence to say the least − he grunted, combing his fingers through his hair, feeling that for some reason his heart was pounding like crazy.
What was happening to him?
"− consider it a gift − we both made each other feel good − right? −" He asked, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt her. She nodded and smiled softly, shyly, for some reason making him feel a squeeze in his throat.
He regretted that she had ever written to him.
He regretted that he had said yes.
He regretted that it had been so pleasant.
"− thank you − and I apologise again − I won't take up your time anymore − I wish you all the best − please take care of yourself and be happy −" She said finally, and he flinched, looking at her in disbelief − he felt that his lips were parted in shock as he looked at her dully.
He didn't know what to answer.
Only after a while did he get anything out of himself, feeling that she was due at least some perfunctory response.
"− it's me who's sorry − I also wish you all the best −"
She nodded and smiled warmly at him, before her trembling hand reached for her backpack and headed towards the door, opening it and disappearing behind it a moment later.
He looked at the bed, at the sheets where the mark of her body was clearly visible, the fact that she had just been lying there, that he had been deep inside her and had fucked her like he had never put his cock inside any woman before.
He went over there and just lay on his stomach, sinking his face into the pillow that was drenched in her scent.
For the next few days, his head was in a state of chaos − one part of him was afraid that she would reach out to him, that she would seek contact or a relationship with him, like so many women before her wanting to be special to him, to be the only one.
The other part of him was even begging for her to do it, for him to be able to free himself at last from the memories of what he had done to her, that she had broken something in him, that he couldn't look at the women who came after her.
He couldn't focus, he felt remorse, he couldn't even get aroused and he was so frustrated that, to the despair of his regular clients, he decided to take a break for a few weeks to cool down.
His friend from university, Robert, had already invited him to his birthday party a month earlier and although he didn't have the energy to go anywhere, he knew that afterwards he would be listening to him and Criston moan in class about how completely unsocial he was.
He figured that since it was only going to be a private party at his house, he might as well go there at least for a while so no one would accuse him of lack of effort.
When he stopped outside his house he got out of the car and decided to have a quick cigarette, tired and discouraged, knowing that sooner or later his savings would run out and he would have to go back to it, whether he wanted to or not.
Or find another, lower-paid job.
He sighed heavily, clamping his fingers over the base of his nose, closing his eyes, trying to calm himself. He heard movement beside him and the screech of brakes, lifted his gaze and froze when it became apparent that she had just sat down beside him from her bike, a wide smile on her lips as if she thought he was a stranger, only recognising him after a moment, her lips parted then in horror, panic in her gaze.
He stared at her, feeling his body freeze.
Fuck.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
"Oh God. Do you know Robert?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, feeling a tightening in his throat at the thought that she could have been his friend's girlfriend.
"Yes. Fuck. And you?" He asked her quickly with some sort of accusation, from which she swallowed hard.
"I-I, I'm his younger sister. I went to get some candles, I didn't know…"
"It's okay. I'll just go home." He replied, taking a few quick puffs of his cigarette, crushing it with his foot, turning back towards his car.
"N-no, please. Are you Aemond? Did I guess right? Robert was telling me about you. How he's glad you're coming. That you rarely talk or go out somewhere as a threesome with Criston. It's good that we met here, we'll avoid an awkward greeting. Please, don't be embarrassed." She muttered, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, heartbroken. They both shuddered when they heard a knock on the glass, Robert looked at them through the window and started waving at them, gleeful.
Jesus Christ.
They both headed towards her house, knowing that since he'd seen him, he couldn't run away anymore anyway. He was terrified that since she was Robert's sister, she was someone familiar, not a stranger, that this changed everything and nothing, his heart pounding like mad.
"Do you have a lighter?" She asked as they stopped in front of the front door and he shook his head, snapped out of his reverie, frowning his brow.
"What?"
"Do you have a lighter? Can you help me? I need to light the candles on his birthday cake." She muttered in a whisper as if someone might overhear them, and she was telling him an important secret. He sighed heavily and nodded, recognising that he must have been dreaming all this.
Robert greeted him with joy, all around them Criston, their family and a few of his high school friends, a whole group of people he didn't know and with whom he knew he wouldn't find common ground, and among them her.
He wished him well and gave him his present, but he was unable to focus − he met her terrified gaze, she was pointing her finger at him that she needed his help in the kitchen.
He followed her as if into the lion's mouth, watching from the side as she opened the fridge in the darkness, taking out a blueberry meringue. She sighed heavily, placing it on the table in front of him, only the lights of the street lamps around them.
"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I did my best." She mumbled, as if she wanted to say anything that would lighten the atmosphere between them.
He felt like an idiot when their trembling hands touched as he handed her the lighter and swallowed loudly, watching as one by one the candles began to glow with the warm, bright light of the flame.
He wanted to ask her if something in her life had changed, if she now knew what she wanted and needed, if she thought about what had happened.
Was she thinking about him.
She picked up the cake when it was all ready and let the air out loud through her mouth, looking him straight in the eye.
"Let's go."
After singing a short 'Happy Birthday', Robert blew out all the candles, happy to announce that his little sister had remembered what cake he loved best, assuring everyone that it was certainly delicious.
They spent the whole party throwing surreptitious, embarrassed glances at each other − he had to empty a few glasses of strong Whisky to calm himself down, the alcohol relaxing him a little, though only seemingly, suppressing his fear, but making him start thinking about something else again.
He looked at her figure dressed in a modest mid-thigh summer dress, her hair, her face − saw the way she laughed, the way she talked to others and felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that then, being with him, she wasn't pretending.
She really was like that.
Affectionate, open, sweet, kind.
Everything he wasn't.
He swallowed heavily at the thought, sad and embittered, taking another deep sip from his glass.
"How are you going to get home? Criston is staying the night at our house, why don't you stay too? It's late." Said Robert sitting down next to him on the couch, patting him on the back in a friendly manner, already himself relaxed by the considerable amount of alcohol his body had assimilated.
He swallowed hard, looking at his sister from afar, feeling that this was a very bad idea.
"Why not." He muttered, thinking that he was a moron for looking for trouble himself, and that if Robert found out what he'd done to his sister, he'd kill him with his own hands.
Criston and a few others occupied the upstairs rooms, and he suggested he could sleep in the living room on the couch, to which Robert agreed.
He hoped this would embolden her to come to him, as he himself would never have dared to knock on her door despite how desperate he was.
At the thought that he might feel her again, his manhood reacted with an enthusiastic, intense pulsing in his trousers.
He felt that he was drunk as he began to pull off his black tight turtleneck, managing it with difficulty, pulling off his shoes, laying down dressed only in Tshirt and trousers with a quiet sigh and covered himself carelessly with the blanket, listening.
Is she going to do it or not?
And even if she comes to him, should he agree?
He felt disappointment when an hour passed and nothing happened, silence all around him and the loud snoring of someone coming from the upstairs rooms, perhaps her and Robert's father. He sighed heavily, recognising that he had made it all up, that she was surely now ashamed of him and what she had done, trying to forget it.
He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling discomfort in his stomach, and closed his eyes, figuring he would try to get at least a few hours of sleep.
He shuddered and opened them again when he heard a quiet creak, as if someone was walking down the corridor above him, but he wasn't sure himself if it wasn't just his imagination. A shiver ran down his spine and his manhood swelled all over when he heard someone quietly walk down the steps.
Whoever this person was, however, she didn't approach him but walked through the living room to the kitchen.
He felt his heart start pounding like crazy when he caught sight of her silhouette in the darkness, dressed only in an oversized white Tshirt and light shorts − she walked over to the tap, took a glass from the drawer and poured herself some water.
Should he approach her or not?
What if she gets scared?
Fuck.
He didn't even know when he just picked himself up on the couch, for some reason doing it very slowly so that his movements couldn't be heard − he felt like a predator who wanted to get closer to his prey even though he didn't really intend to harm her.
As soon as he stood up he immediately felt the room around him spin, the pleasant, intoxicating warmth of the alcohol melting through his lower abdomen making him seem less terrified of what he wanted to do than if he had been completely sober.
When she caught sight of his silhouette out of the corner of her eye she almost choked on the water − she spat some of it into the sink coughing loudly, making him freeze motionless, afraid to approach her. She quickly wiped her mouth with her hand, looking at him with big eyes.
"My God, you scared me." She muttered pale, her pretty, smooth face illuminated by the warm light of the street lamps standing in front of her house.
He stared at her for a moment, thinking that perhaps it must all have been a dream after all, that the fact that she was standing in front of him was unreal, invented by his distraught, drunken mind.
"I'm sorry." He stammered, swallowing hard, standing a good distance away from her, fighting with himself not to look shamelessly at her bare legs and her nipples peeking through from under her T-shirt.
Again.
They stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence, both of them breathing embarrassingly loudly, as if each of them was reliving deep inside themselves the fact that they were seeing each other again.
And on top of that, in her brother's house.
"I didn't know you were his sister. I swear. I would never do that to you." He finally started to speak, to explain, although he didn't know why − he had the feeling that he was trying to get anything out of himself so she didn't go back upstairs to her room.
He heard her sigh quietly, stroking her bare shoulder with her trembling hand. She shifted from foot to foot in a nervous gesture, looking somewhere to the side, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.
"I know." She whispered, and he felt a heat in his lower abdomen and a pleasant shudder at the thought that perhaps she wasn't misjudging him, that perhaps she wasn't disgusted by him at all.
"How do you feel? I mean − are you okay?" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she wasn't sure if she should be asking this kind of question. She glanced at him uncertainly, clearly wanting to check his reaction, he stared at her stunned, completely surprised by her question.
"− I… yeah, I guess − I mean, I'm on a break from − you know − from this − right now −" He muttered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, looking at the floor, feeling ashamed and embarrassed for some reason.
It's because of you, he wanted to say.
I did it for you.
"Something happened?" She asked after a moment, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex, as if she was afraid of what she would hear.
"− yes − I mean − I have doubts − I always had, but now… they've intensified − you know −" He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, feeling the tightness in his throat and stomach growing stronger, his heart pounding like mad, cold sweat running down his back.
I'm just a whore, he thought.
I sell myself for money.
She nodded her head quickly so he knew she understood.
"− I'm sorry −" She said quietly, and he looked at her dully, not knowing why for some reason his lower lip trembled, why he felt a burning sensation under his eyelids.
He was ashamed that he desired her so much, that he wanted her words but also her body, wanted to fuck her first and then embrace her and fall asleep.
Was he treating her objectively? Was he only able to think about one thing?
Sex, sex, sex, sex.
He couldn't get anything out of himself.
He shuddered, drawing in air loudly as she came closer to him, in her gaze genuine fear and worry at his condition, questioning whether she could do anything for him, help him in any way.
He knew she longed to touch him − he saw out of the corner of his eye her hand rising to touch his shoulder but falling back after a moment, reminding himself that he never allowed anyone to invade his space.
He felt like screaming.
"− do you want to talk about it? −"
He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone about it, but after a while he was sitting next to her on the terrace anyway, covered in a thick, soft blanket, sitting next to her on a rather uncomfortable wooden bench hanging by chains, which he rocked back and forth with involuntary movements of his knees, lighting a cigarette from his lighter with a quiet hiss of fire.
He took a drag and let the smoke out loudly through his nose, sighing quietly, just thinking about the fact that their hips and shoulders were touching.
"What did you think of me? After all this." He asked suddenly, swallowing loudly as he heard her twist in her place, throwing him a surprised, even horrified look. She sighed quietly, covering herself more tightly with the fluffy material.
"That you are a good man."
He felt his hand with the cigarette freeze in mid-motion as he was about to take another drag and for some reason he laughed in disbelief at her words, feeling a piercing pain in his chest, his eyebrows arching in amusement.
"That I'm a good man. Good God." He hummed, taking another drag − he could see she was looking down at her fingers, ashamed of her words and his cruel reaction. He licked his lower lip with his tongue and closed his eyes, feeling that he was completely hard.
He could smell her, she was still using that fruity, pleasant, fresh perfume.
"You're a romantic, innocent soul, aren't you?" He sneered, letting the smoke out again through his nose with a loud sigh − he heard her cough quietly as the smell of tobacco rose into her lungs. She grunted quietly, her lips tightened in displeasure.
"Innocent souls come to a strange man to spank them for money?"
"You didn't want me to spank you. You haven't experienced even a hint of real, hard domination, sweet girl." He snarled, spreading himself out comfortably on the back of the bench with a loud creak of wood, the metal chains squeaking quietly each time he made another movement with his foot, putting the structure in motion.
"So why did you agree to this?" She asked finally, and he fell silent, staring blankly ahead, taking one last drag on what was left of his cigarette.
"Good question."
They both fell silent again, feeling that their conversation was starting to get out of hand, and after all, someone could have woken up, opened the window, overheard their words.
"Did you tell Robert?" He asked suddenly, and she shook her head, horrified.
"N-no, of course not. And I won't. This is between you two. He respects you very much." She muttered, lowering her gaze to her bent knees, which she held under her chin. He hummed at her statement, accepting her words with some sort of relief.
"Did that help you? Now you know what you need?" He asked impassively, letting the smoke out loudly through his mouth, dropping the remnants of his cigarette into the glass with the unfinished drink, feeling her gaze on him, her body tense, he knew she had hesitated.
"In a way." She replied, and he dared to look her straight in the eye.
She didn't lower her gaze even though he knew some part of her wanted to do so, her lips parted slightly when she noticed his hands had slipped under the blanket, into his trousers. She swallowed loudly when she heard the sound of his zipper being undone and the fabric being unfastened.
"Come here. Sit on my lap." He ordered softly, and she did so without hesitation, as if she had only been waiting for those words, something in her confidence, in her assurance, in her desire, in her hot gaze made his breath stand in his throat.
They said nothing as he slipped her shorts off her, as he lowered his trousers, finally releasing his aching, swollen erection, already leaking from his precum. He didn't protest when her hands tentatively embraced his neck, barely touching him, merely catching her balance, his free hand covering their hips with a blanket.
"I'm clean. I had myself tested a few weeks ago, after I'd already taken a break." He whispered, feeling his cock throb aggressively in his hand at the thought that he could come deep inside her if she would just let him. She nodded her head in understanding, one movement of his hand between her thighs reassuring him that no further treatment would be necessary.
"Have you been this wet all evening? Hm? Have you suffered as much as I have?" He gasped, directing the pink, fat head of his manhood at her swollen slit. She nodded again, her lips parted in disbelief and delight, her eyes closed as she felt him begin to push inside her,his thumbs spreading her folds to the sides, watching with a rapidly beating heart as he slowly opened her wide on his cock.
"− fuck − fuck, tell me you're taking your pills −" He breathed out, tilting his head back, with one sure thrust of his hips filling her tight, leaking cunt to the brim. She squirmed quietly as he began to move inside her immediately, pounding into her with deep, sure stabs, rubbing each time the spot inside her from where she could see stars.
"− y-yes −" She mumbled out, rising and falling on his thick, aching manhood, giving him a wonderful squeeze each time, from which he sank his fingers deeper into her soft buttocks, forcing her into a fast, sharp rhythm in which he hardly slid out of her, panting and grunting louder than usual, thinking only of how wonderfully warm she was, that he could feel her moist, fleshy walls with his whole being with each sure thrust.
"− kiss me −" He exhaled and groaned loudly into her mouth as her lips instantly clung to his in a sloppy, sticky dance, his tongue invading deep into her throat, a shudder went through him as one of her hands combed through his hair.
"− m sorry −" She mumbled, immediately lowering her hand, but he put his one arm around her waist and pressed her closer to him, deepening the kiss with a loud purr of satisfaction, feeling wonderful, the alcohol had given him courage, and her touch was sweet and tender, not making him feel cornered.
"− it's okay − touch my face −" He sighed out between loud, wet licks of their swollen lips, quickening his pace as her hands gripped his cheeks, as her forehead pressed against his. Her walls began to clench on him with increasing intensity, making him lose his temper, not letting her escape the brutal thrusts of his hips.
"− oh, God − fuck, where −" He only mumbled, feeling that it was about to be too late.
"− please, inside me − ah −" She mewled so sweetly that he sighed loudly, surprised to feel his muscles relax, his semen spilling deep inside her without his willpower as her walls began to suck him and squeeze him in orgasm.
They both panted loudly, rocking their hips for a while longer, pulsing and shuddering, stroking each other's faces, looking at each other with their lips slightly parted, breathing heavily.
"− shall we go out somewhere tomorrow? − you know − to the pub or something? −" He muttered embarrassed that he had wanted something more, that he broke his own rule.
He was relieved when she giggled and smiled, nodding, only to lean in a moment later and kiss him in a drawn-out manner with her soft, puffy lips. He murmured contentedly, stroking her warm, bare buttocks with lazy movements, reciprocating her caress with a loud click of their saliva.
She pulled away from him at last, her hand combing slowly through his short hair making a pleasant shiver run along his spine.
"− why not −"
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communistkenobi · 8 months
Text
Another issue that seems to fuel effemimania is our cultural tendency to sexualize femininity and femaleness in all its forms. While countless feminist writers and theorists have analyzed the ways in which the sexualization of femaleness and femininity permeates virtually every aspect of our culture and has a negative impact on most women's lives, they have typically ignored the way this tendency creates an environment in which "male femininity" is almost always considered in purely sexual terms. For example, most popular images and impressions of trans women revolve around sexuality: from "she-male" and "chicks with dicks" pornography to media portrayals of us as sexual deceivers, prostitutes, and sex workers. And of course, there are the recurring themes of trans women who transition in order either to gain the sexual attention of men or to fulfill some kind of bizarre sex fantasy (both of which appear regularly in the media, and also in Bailey and Blanchard's model of MTF transgenderism). In this context, it's easy to understand why Bailey and Blanchard were able to get away with proposing a homosexual/autogynephilic model for MTF spectrum trans people without ever being challenged by their professional peers to apply their theories to FTM spectrum trans people. To do so would require these predominantly straight- and male-identified gatekeepers to view masculinity and maleness in purely erotic terms--in other words, to reduce maleness to the status of mere sexual object (something that they would be loath to do in the unlikely event that this line of reasoning ever crossed their minds). This unwillingness to sexualize masculinity to the extent that femininity is sexualized explains why the gatekeepers endlessly dwelled on every perceived nuance and variation that occurred in the sexual practices and fantasies of the MTF spectrum population while simultaneously adamantly claiming that there was no such thing as female transvestism, no erotic component to FTM crossdressing, and no such thing as a gay-identified trans man.
— Whipping Girl, pp 134-135 (2nd Ed)
Serano also talks about how transmascs were routinely viewed as more “psychologically stable” compared to transfems by medical professionals because it was seen as “basically rational” for a woman to want to be a man, but hysterical, pathological, and disturbing for a man to want to be a woman. Furthermore, trans women were routinely at the whims of the sexual desires of the professionals who oversaw their medical transition, with many doctors outright stating in medical documentation that they used their own levels of sexual attraction to their transfem patients as the basis for whether they would refer them for surgery or not. And on the flip side, if trans women were too feminine, too attractive to the cishet male doctors, they would be accused of faking or exaggerating for attention, while trans men were praised for their performance of masculinity and escaped the sexual eye of the overwhelmingly straight doctors - because it would be gay to do so, and of course these doctors aren’t gay! How dare you even suggest that!
The conclusion ultimately is that there is no good way to be a woman - trans women are stuck in a double bind where they must perform an incredibly rigid standard of femininity in order to be given access to hormones, and are then punished if they “go overboard” or their performance of femininity doesn’t suite the sexual tastes of the doctors who gatekeep their ability to transition. This is again where transmisogyny has a massive amount of explanatory power as a concept, and why trans men do not face this same double-bind - our masculinity can be denied as fraudulent, and often is, but the act of pursuing masculinity in the first place is seen as a genuine, taken-for-granted common sense pursuit, a “mercy” that is not afforded to our transfem siblings.
This is not to pit transmascs against transfems, but to acknowledge the basic reality that our masculinity provides us with some bargaining power in medical and psychiatric contexts, not because trans men don’t face discrimination or transphobia, but because we have the ability to be rewarded by patriarchy for our identity as men - which is itself a violently misogynistic privilege. This fact should enrage you, not towards trans women for pointing this very obvious and basic fact out to you, but towards the people and institutions conducting this violence in broad daylight
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tarjapearce · 6 months
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We need to see some early little content of baby gabi, like first time parents! Like them figuring out the routine and dealing with diapers, throw up, crying, and some new firsts!
A Series of First With Baby Gabriella ~ (Pt. 1)
Warning: Mild mild angst, rotting fluff.
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His baby girl, his firstborn, Gabriella had been born. He'd spend hours to no end watching her. Little waves, a reminiscence of him, perched over her tiny head.
She had been hours since she came to this world, finally fulfilling one of the deepest and hidden yearnings that came as soon as he knew he loved you. Being a father.
He was scared. Miguel out of everyone knew his childhood had been anything but easy. Even to this day, things were hard and some days they were too overwhelming to ignore. But now, a new purpose had been added to his list. Be everything he didn't have for his baby girl.
Be the best father a girl could ask for. And hopefully one day, the best example of a husband many men would strive to imitate.
The coos and little cries of his girl returned all the attention back to her, her whole hand wrapped around his finger. But in truth it was the opposite.
She didn't need to make anything outrageous to have his whole attention, Gabriella had him wrapped around her tiny and squeezing fingers, ready to make a wonderful father out of him.
You were asleep, on bed, exhausted. Gladly giving into your body's whims to rest. Delivery was a bit tricky, but with the doctor's and nurse's help you were just fine and his daughter in perfect conditions. Like he had been longing for.
"Mírate no más, igualita a mí" (Look at you, so like me)
His eyes softened as his thumb stroked  ever gently at her hair. She stirred and grunted while she stretched. The little yawn and her almost nuzzling in his chest made his chest to swell up in pride.
His lips pressed softly over and over against her forehead, he felt like hallucinating, since Gabi's lips twitched in a little shy smile.
----
The first night back at home you had to drag Miguel out of Gabi's baby room. A baby monitor in her crib had given you both enough reassurance for the night. It had been only a couple of months since you moved into your new house and bit by bit, everything started to be full of baby things. Preparing for the arrival of your baby.
And now, it's owner had finally came, the room was complete. His house felt complete with Gabi in it.
A pale lilac adorned the walls, the crib white andk sturdy, a whole Sunday had been spent assembling it. Meaning, you'd watch Miguel doing so, giggling whenever he cursed or crumpled the instructions. Your routine was based on her first feeding she had back at the hospital. Meaning ten pm.
The next one was at 1 am, then at four, seven and so on. She ate every three hours. Sometimes, Miguel would come home and find you curled up on the couch or any other surface cushioned enough for you to rest.
And when you'd wake up, you'll always be in your bed, tucked in. Sometimes, you'd find yourself startling out of nowhere when you heard Gabi's door opening up. Only to find Miguel changing her diapers if needed and sharing time with her.
You'd kiss his cheek and held his hand, pulling him away even though his feet refused at first. "C'mon, let her rest. You need to sleep and so do I."
"I know." He kissed in return your forehead, "Thank you."
---
If he could get a picture of his baby girl, every day, he would. But nothing compared to experiencing meaningful moments right there next to her.
The first laugh you got from Gabi was when she nibbled your nipple, the soft nub was nothing against her gums.
"Oww"
She giggled again as she slapped your breast softly. Your fingers caressed her head lovingly, gentle voice lulled her to sleep.
"Glad you're happy chewing my nipple, princesita"
With Miguel things were different, she'd burst into the loudest laughing fit when he'd blow raspberries into her tummy. Excited and kicking feet moved playfully, her hands latched on his dark waves.
"Gimme a smile"
Gabi stared at him as he yawned, too interested in the pair of fangs that peeked out of his plump mouth. Seeing no effect in her, he tried a little growl.
She cooed, the smile creeping up in her little lips. Miguel roared, or at least attempted to roar, Gabi's laugh soared through the room, but quieted down once your steps approached.
"Whose there?"
Miguel taunted, Gabi's expectant eyes darted towards the door, a coo accompanied her.
"Es tu mami." He mumbled with a smile. (It's your mommy)
Gabi smiled, shook her hands and kicked her legs upon seeing you. Her little pony tail swaying.
"Where's my little chomper?"
"Pa pa!"
You gasped as Miguel took Gabi excitedly.
"Dilo de nuevo, Solecito. Whose that?" (Say it again, Sunshine)
"It's Mama, Gabibi"
"Pa pa!"
You couldn't help but gasp audibly, faking betrayal as Gabi squealed while Miguel smothered her in kisses.
Miguel 1, Mama 0.
"I'm switching you to bottle!"
Gabi gave a feisty grunt at your words as if saying 'You wouldn't dare!' But Miguel's laugh made her to cup his face and grin.
"Pa pa"
"Yes, Solecito?"
A bubbly laugh erupted from her, as she tried to bite his cheeks. Her first words had been dedicated to none but him. Another little milestone added to his personal list.
Nothing however had prepared him for another milestone the both of you feared, yet unavoidably happened.
Gabriella fell sick.
Fever had made a fussy and crying mess out of her. Guilt only grew as you had ignored the signals of her eventual illness. She was restless through her feeding hours, and ate in between breaks. She cried and ate.
And no matter how much you tried to make her less fussy, she'd only cry harder before breaking into a fever.
Her wailing only made you scared and anxiety soon took over you, in between tears you called Miguel and explained. He'd ask permission for work to then fly home and take you to the pediatrician with Gabriella.
Nothing more than an ear infection. Even though antibiotics had been given to her, Miguel would rock her slowly, rubbing her back in soothing circles,
Gabi would rub her eyes, and the outer of her ear while exhaling a little pained whimpering
"I know, mijita. You'll feel better ok?"
He whispered while kissing her forehead. It distressed him greatly to see his baby in such discomfort. She slept longer than usual, fed a little before going back to sleep. You both missed her laugh and usual feisty attitude.
He'd be always welcomed with a little squeal or a gurgling mumble. But now it was everything but silence.
But eventually the infection went away, leaving room for her health to be back.
---
Gabi was now seven months, Her urge to crawl had been stronger, only to fall into her butt. But her perseverance made her to crawl faster and climb things with such agility it made her almost an unstoppable force you'd often been reckoned with.
You'd have startles like getting her last minute before she crawled up or down the stairs. Sometimes you'd burn food to chase her, and when you'd get her she'd squeal and drool over your cheek while trying to kiss you.
"You'll kill me in one of these jumpscares, mi amor. "
She'd giggle and mumble a clear Mama
"Yes, bebita? You're hungry?"
Your little princess would screech, and point at the boiling pot. It always amazed her to no end to see the lid clattering and seeing bubbles underneath it. Or see you dance at the beat of cumbias, merengue and punta.
The latter had her squirming at the beats of the drums while clapping.
As she reached her ten months, she'd surprise you both and Miguel that had your hearts racing.
You were on the living room, playing on the floor with her, Miguel sat across you.
"Solecito, come here" Miguel urged as he motioned her to come, which she followed to a T. She crawled to him but stopped midway
"Come, come" Miguel kept ebbing her to follow him, but Gabi's eyes were set on him.
You helped her to stand and even though her steps wobbled, she didn't stop. Miguel and you shared a complicity look before you let Gabi go.
Big and loving hands motioned her to get to him. A steady step followed by a wobbly one, Gabi balanced herself and cooed, toddler eyes filled with wonder and joy as she followed Miguel's voice, occasionally looking back to you, as if asking 'Like this, Mama?'
"Go to Papa, mi amor!"
Miguel crouched and opened her arms to her, ready to catch her if she fell. But she didn't. In fact, as she approached Miguel her feet took speed.
Her dear Papa took her in his strong arms and thew her in the air, happy for another meaningful milestone he got to witness.
But that would only bring new and near heart attacks experiences.
Ever since she started walking, Gabi would run after Miguel and hold onto his ankle, crying a loud and maudlin Papa, No!
She wanted him to stay, she wanted him to hold her and put her to sleep, but he had to go.
"Solecito, I'll be back"
She'd cry a harder "No!"
"Gabi, mi amor, come here."
"Papa!"
She'd climb to her and who was Miguel to say no to his baby?
He cradled her and kissed her chubby cheek.
"I'll be back, okay? Se buena con tu mamá, 'ta bien?" (Be good to your mom, okay?)
She nodded in between little hiccups and whines as Miguel handled her over to you after kissing her forehead.
"Wanna go shopping with me, princesita?"
She pointed at a leaving Miguel.
"I know, mi niña, he'll be back, okay? Let's get you ready to go."
As soon as Miguel came through the main door, Gabi ran to him and clung to his leg with a wide beam.
"Papa!"
He picked her up and smooched her cheek, "Hola mi chiquita, God, I missed you." He came closer to you and smiled, "I missed you too."
The two most important women of his life were always waiting for him and his return. Finally, his dream had come true.
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nomsfaultau · 6 months
Text
Dark SBI where Philza is a nice normal human man whose family slowly gets replaced by super natural creatures. The youngest is the first to go, replaced by 'Tommy', a shape shifting imp who decided he liked the skin of the kid and decided to keep it. He lives for chaos, but his motives falter when he experiences genuine love for the first time. Then 'Wilbur' replaces another son in classic changeling fashion, the boy taken to fulfill the whims of the fae and leaving in his place a bitter boy who knows he's an inferior version. Finally, the last son becomes plagued by dark voices that grow worse and worse, leading him succumbing to possession by 'Technoblade', who thinks he'll make the perfect new vessel after the last one was destroyed. 'Technoblade' doesn't want to lose his new vessel so soon after the last one, 'Wilbur' was trained from birth to mimic the human he would replace, and 'Tommy' wants an identity he can fall back on to play innocent if he gets in trouble. It takes awhile before the others realize all three kids are imposters. There's friction, of course, but they eventually make a pact to continue pretending to be a sweet and unsuspecting family.
The thing is...Philza isn't dumb. There's this awful feeling in his gut, and he has a sharp eye for details that don't add up. He's increasingly certain these things aren't his children. He quietly gathers evidence, and the moment he's sure...he does nothing. Philza carries on in a careful pantomime of a perfectly loving family, terrified of what they'll do to him if they realize he knows their true natures. He smothers his fear and offers them warm smiles and boundless mercy and tender affection the likes of which the imposter children have never known before. Slowly, it becomes a easier for everyone to pretend.
Maybe, if Philza's kind enough, they won't kill him, or worse. Maybe if he's good enough, their evil natures will soften. Maybe, if he's patient enough, they'll give him his real kids back.
And the moment they do, he'll slaughter every last one of the monsters who destroyed his family.
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