#i should probably trigger tag this but i'm too out of it to think of what to tag it as. whatever.

[reddiamondyeet]

.

[anirudhpisharody]

.

[pickingupmymercedes]

Under an Ipê tree - Lewis Hamilton

The three times your annual visit to Senna’s tomb brought something different

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Senna! Reader

warnings: mentions of death, mourning, AD 21', Lewis at Ferrari (rubbing salt into every open wound apparently)

wordcount: +1k

a/n: Not gonna lie, started this one with something in mind and it took a life of its own. I know Senna! Reader isn't everyone's cup of tea, so please, proceed with caution, because there is mention to real events and real emotions envolved with mourning. Also, AD 21', I'm sure as hell not over that, so here's another trigger warning.

a/n. 2: Those trees are how pink Ipês look in blossom, I know Brasil is not known for its colder months but those beauties come alive after the few cold weeks.

_______________________________________

Like most traditions it started without any intent on actually becoming a thing. You and Lewis would take a couple hours off on Wednesdays before the Brazilian GP every year, the destination a known one to everyone in the paddock. It was a journey you used to do by yourself until Lewis had been the brave, and first one, to ask you if he could tag along. He’d been to Senna’s tomb before, you knew that much, but the respect and adoration he held for your late father had you deciding he should be good company.

_______________________________________

“I swear I had never seen my mom angrier. Can you imagine her with the speaker at Interlagos shouting to everyone with an ear that I shouldn’t be racing and if anything happened Ayrton was to blame cause I wasn’t even old enough to be there” You told a laughing Lewis while remembering when your father faked an ID so he could sneak you to the track and teach you how to race in your brand new - Mclaren themed – kart. A Christmas gift he went out of his way to get to the famous Brazilian track circuit in time to open day.

“You know, my favorites snippets of his life are the ones you talk about, Sundays at the pool, ice cream dates, kart running without your mom knowing. Whenever someone talks about him it’s always about his wins, his hardships, his cars and battles … it’s almost as if he didn’t exist beyond formula 1, like we froze just a fraction of him and forgot all about the rest.” 

You smiled at him, you liked how Lewis never questioned your feelings towards f1’s out of this world idolatry on your father, mainly because at the end of the day, to your 8 year old past self, Ayrton was first and foremost “pai”, the dude that thought you not to be afraid by throwing you into the ocean when no one was looking, the one that cooked instant noodles for dinner in spite of your mom’s pleads, the one that constantly tried to show you that love is a feeling we should act upon in the present and never wait for a so promised tomorrow.

“He would’ve liked you I think… would’ve hated to race you, for sure. But as a person, he would have probably seen you as one of the good ones, pointing out bullshit, fighting fia every chance you get, protecting the guys back at the garage, focusing on racing and not talking, looking out for everyone.” You answered truthly, as he respectfully held his hands behind his back looking at the tomb stone, while you casually sat in the edge of the stone, almost too comfortable around the place from all the visits you’ve done over the years.

“I think you should meet Galisteu someday, she’ll have way more interesting stories about him to tell you than I do.” You absentmindedly noted, remembering all she’s told you about your father, this other side to him you never got the time to see.

“Nah… we’re our truest around kids, his best version was the one you got to see. Now, what was that time he sneaked a stray dog onto your apartment?” he asked while reaching for your shoulder so you both could walk along the path back to the car awaiting to take you both back.

_______________________________________

“I don’t think I really remember the sound of his voice” you sighed looking up at the Ipê tree just beside the tomb. You had shown Lewis a photo of what it looked like once in full blossom before, in the Brazilian winter, and he promised you he would eventually find the time to come see it in its full glory in late June.

The walk in the cemetery, the light hearted banter, him opening his heart on dreams and the future and the confessions you would eventually make to Lewis about Ayrton were part of the annual occurrence you had both unspokenly agreed on, but that one line seemed to have hit him hard enough he just motioned you to go on, no answers or remarks. 

“I mean, I know what his voice sounds like because there’s a thousand and one interviews with him, but I don’t think I can truly remember what he sounded like in real life … how he talked to me.” You explained it further, now looking at the Briton.

He engulfed you in a hug, the kind only he knew how, your tears leaving marks on his shoulders. You would rarely cry over anything related to your father, at least not in front of people anyway, but Lewis was… well, Lewis. You and Niki were the one who pushed, like hell, to sign him to Mercedes back in 2014 against everyone’s better judgment, and while you knew he would be every bit the driver and phenomenon he was, neither of you anticipated the friendship that came out of seeing him almost every GP you attended. A relationship that had crept its own way into your hearts, slowly allowing to see each other as something more than just good friends.

“He’s proud of you, wherever he is. I know that much” He whispered, leaving a soft kiss to your temple and bringing you even closer to his body.

_______________________________________

“He would’ve crashed into Verstappen back in 2021, wouldn’t he?” He prompted out of nowhere, gazing seriously at the tomb as you observed him pondering over the possible outcomes of a race that, like a ghost, had been following him nonstop, specially with the São Paulo GP fast approaching and with it his chances of securing his 8th title, two races before the end of the season.

“Start another Senna vs. Prost ?! ” You thought out loud, trying to read into his expressions and mannerisms, a talent of his you weren’t quite as good.

“Maybe I should’ve done it”

“You’re not like that Lew. You’re you and no one, not a single person, wants someone else” Your exasperation clear in your voice, hands reaching for his chin as his eyes locked into yours and he nodded, an unspoken agreement between the two of you, one you had to hammer into his head from time to time, that he may have Ayrton as his idol but he was just as much of an icon to the sport, and to a million of kids out there.

“On Sunday you’re going to reach that top step in your red suit, fulfill Ayrton’s dream and claim a championship for Ferrari. You. Not him, nor anyone else” and come the end of the race, he did just that. Smiling down at the sea of people in a mix of old Mercedes merchs and new Ferrari ones, dedicating his trophy to all the other people who believed in the impossible with him. 

[wingwaver]

A few tips for new Tumblr users wanting to write here

Yo if you're here from Reddit or Twitter or some other site and just wanted to give this a shot you may have seen some blogs that are dedicated to writing headcanons or short fics or even original works for their own OCs and you may be thinking "hey I wanna give that a shot! I like to write!" then I have some tips to make it easier on you and people who see your content.

1. First off, if you're writing a pretty long piece the you should probably put it under a read more, it'll look like this on mobile

and this on desktop

or you can write :readmore: on a line by itself and press enter.

2. Now if you're gonna write for a whole bunch of different fandoms and you wanna make a master list then I suggest making an actual list with the fandoms you write for and then making more lists with the actual content as a you go along because you can only have 100 links in one post (I know that sounds like a lot but as someone who has around 300 Transformers things written trust me you fill up a post quicker than you expect, especially if you take requests from other people). The way I typically do it is like this

The first pic is the MASTER master list that lists everything I write for and when they're underlined like that it means they're links. The second pic is after clicking the G1 link, it's a separate post that has the actual fics and headcanon links. Note the 6/100 in the tags, this is how I keep up with how many things I've added. You can of course just use the numbers options from here

or just number them manually from your keyboard like I'm doing with this post. Adding links has no barring on what else you add to the post so you can add yourself some fancy header or divider pics if you want.

3. Adding links! Links can look like this https://www.tumblr.com/wingwaver/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons?source=share or like this https://wingwaver.tumblr.com/post/721887224846778368/test-post-for-reasons depending on whether you're linking from mobile or desktop/browser Just highlight the text you wanna add a link to and a the little chain will move to the end, click it and paste your url you want to link to and press add link, then press post/save draft/save (whatever the blue button says)

Now you've successfully linked a post to another post!

4. Tagging! To get your fics and headcanons seen to build an audience you usually wanna tag the stuff correctly. If you're posting a fic about Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney then you'll tag it with #Ace Attorney, #Miles Edgeworth, and #Phoenix Wright in the tags area. But it's also a good idea to mention if it's a ship or general fic in the tags too. If so then putting ship names and #Miles Edgeworth x Phoenix Wright and #Miles Edgeworth/Phoenix Wright in the tags will help everyone know this is a ship fic. Tagging with characters or fandoms that aren't apart of the fic just clogs the tags for people looking for content of said characters and fandoms so it's very looked down on here and will likely get some of your stuff reported for spam so only use the relevant tags. Also tagging for triggers can be tricky here because of how fucky tumblr is but please don't tag censor tags. Tagging things like #a**** or #a*use or even #abu$e doesn't work here because people who have #abuse blacklisted will be able to see this content because it wasn't tagged properly. Also if you're writing for OCs or reader inserts it's common courtesy to tag those appropriately too. Someone looking for a reader insert may not want to read an OC and vice versa. Also many people filter those out so try to add tags like #x reader, #*fandom name* x reader, and #*character name* x reader for easier filtering. Also people cruise those tags too so it'll help people who fo want to read that content find your stuff!

[tree-obsession]

2.2 SPOILERS!! PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK

this is a small lore discussion! mostly speculation and theories- i have not seen leaks about 2.3 plot yet, but i have seen a couple about boothill's character stories, so please keep that in mind!

trigger for mentions of suicide(aventurine) and mega corps(the ipc)

we have to talk about the ending cutscene with aventurine and boothill more! i'll start with my fav parts that no one really has brought up yet:

Aventurine intimidating Boothill after mentioning the guards are out- Boothill sounded so offput and hasty while reassuring him they were just knocked out, and we have to talk about aventurine himself just being intimidating more honestly his glare actually did kind of scare me.

Boothill pointing a gun at aventurine was. well. i'm sorry i did actually laugh at that. boothill i think you should research your targets a bit more honestly that guy is NOT afraid of guns. he fully walked into the nihility and pointed at least one gun at himself, and just got out of his own meticulously-planned suicide. threats of death won't work, sorry. also he has good reason to hate oswaldo schneider as well- threats didn't even have to be used, probably! he would kill him too, probably(revenge arc go go go!!)

the convo between aven and jade was. yeah. why he's betting his life again, i don't know (maybe sarcasm? or it was really just banter?) but it does seem like the two of them aren't super close at all, at least from what little i could gather. also if diamond hurts aventurine the entire fandom will kick his ass, emanator or no, so he better be prepared for that too lol. also, it was a pretty common theory aventurine would leave the ipc after exiting nihility, since acheron presumably broke his ties- i wonder why he went back? perhaps he had no plans as to where to go, or he has some ulterior motive?

how did he get out of nihility so unscathed? (for context, i haven't gotten aven's text messages yet, but i'm aware of some of their contents since they've been floating around w/out spoiler tags. the messages are mentioned a bit here if you wanna avoid spoilering!) i know argenti got him out, but 1) why was argenti there, or where did he even find him? and 2) that seems so random- both argenti and jade confirmed it, but plot-wise what's even the point of argenti pulling him out? also argenti said he was in a "woeful state" when he got out, and apparently the stonehearts are willing to give aven a break (which i'm assuming is major, since stonehearts are super important and have a lot of responsibility, plus he just destroyed a cornerstone) so him already being back on his feet when we see the phone call is a bit weird right away. he doesn't even sound sick, and ratio or any other doctor is nowhere in sight! (message spoilers start here) i'm aware the aventurine cornerstone was fully shattered/destroyed while protecting him from nihility- was he really in there for who-knows-how-long without any protection at all? he's apparently having nightmares and the ipc needed to call in a doctor of chaos to treat him, which is concerning considering his mental health and general will to live were extremely low even before walking into the nihility. like he genuinely has some of the worst will to live i've ever seen in a character or human being- walking through the nihility should have utterly destroyed him mentally and physically, but it didn't. 2.3 HAS to give us a whole lotta context, especially with nihility lore (my favorite aeon, i may be biased) and more about the ipc!

anyway, thank you for reading this poorly formatted, stream-of-consciousness word vomit about 2.2's aventurine lore. hope you liked it! drop ur thoughts in replies and reblogs plz they give me life(although i will be very busy next few weeks, so please don't be offended if you want a reply and don't get it, im so sorry!)

2.2 was peak- a bit slow, but the story was some of the best, if not the best stuff hoyo has given us in terms of writing quality. so great! i cried for sure, and that boss battle was just everything- especially the music. robin my lesbian queen if i didn't have to pull for firefly i would get your lightcone for sure...

see you all next time! thx for sticking around (:

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt. 60)

(sneek peak)(Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: Life changes come in many many forms; courting gifts, leaving jobs, and...Murder

Tags: Slow burn getting warmer, Angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, Trans! Tae, Transphobia, gender thoughts, workplace discrimination, flashbacks, murder, graphic violence blood, suicidal actions

W/c: 11.5k

A/n: ah i'm hoping i'll finish this in time! if not T-T i'll be attending my cousins wedding at the time this is posted so! give me lots of love when you read it cuz i'm so nervous~ i've never been around so many fancy people before. also that photo of hobi? in the moodboard? tell me why it makes my heart FLUTTER!!!

Previous part ~ Masterlist

~-~

Chapter 60: Glass Slippers

Your breath goes just a little bit rapid, just a little, hitching when you think of it.

“Did Jin tell you anything?”

“He didn’t. Although my secretary did inform me that he filled out the paperwork for you.” The air in the therapist’s office is cold. Cold enough that it has you wrapping your sweater sleeves over your knuckles.

Your cheeks heat “My pack they- get a bit- protective.” Your fingers circle your wrist. You’re glad that Hobi convinced you to take one of his sweatshirts. He'd had a strange look on his face while he zipped it up, and you'd had to worry and wonder about it the whole morning. You'd worried more once he texted, just after he must have gotten to work.

“I have kind of a history of self-destructive behavior and I- I kind fell into bad habits a few days ago and blew up. It was all kind of triggered by this like- thing that happened with me and my other packmate.” It’s surprisingly easy to tell the truth.

You’re a right side better than you have been the last few weeks, now. A little bit more present, less foggy. The doctor just looks at her screen and not at you. What is it with her asking questions that make you not want to lie? Why does it feel like you should anyway?

Dr. Rima reads between the lines, what you're trying to say without saying it. “Is there a possibility of you hurting yourself again?” She clicks at the screen a little rapidly.

“No.”

The truth is you have no idea. It seems best to lie in this situation. But you consider it; one of your packmates making the call that you are too much to handle, that you need more help than they can offer. You imagine what it would be like to be in inpatient care. Grippy socks and group therapy and probably observed mealtimes. Maybe Iv's and feeding tubes if it came to that. Away from the pack and away from Yoongi.

He’s just downstairs, but that feels too far. There was no way that he was going to let you do this alone, you wouldn't be surprised if he never left the waiting room.

It’s just a therapy session. The very thing that you once refused. But now that you're here you might as well heal, you might as well work to stop this endless train of brief highs and endless lows. you'll give it a go, why not? What do you have to lose?

And yet, the texts from Hobi remain unanswered:

Ho-🐝 (9:48): Hey, I’m really proud of you.

Ho-🐝 (9:48): I’m really happy I get to be your packmate. In case you ever worry.

Ho-🐝 (9:49): And your best friend too <3

Ho-🐝 (9:51): Just so you knowwww

Coming Saturday September 23rd at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustment Below)

[namjuicyy]

When Namjoon meets you in a bakery, he never expected to become so obsessed with you.

Namjoon x reader

Strangers to lovers, inspired by You on Netflix.

25+

Word count: 13.8k

Wattpad | Masterlist

WARNINGS: Stalking, non-con, panty fetish, voyeurism, daddy kink, slut shaming, degradation (I mean serious degradation, these are not soft words at all these are borderline feminist issues), power play, use of the word bitch, lesbian phone sex, masturbation, pillow humping, hidden cameras, sex toys, somnophilia, choking, face-slapping, under – non-negotiated kinks, dom/sub, predator/prey, begging, pain kink, lack of foreplay, lack of aftercare (briefly), penis-in-vagina sex, unprotected sex, free-use kink, breeding kink, dacrophilia, size kink, Namjoon has a big dick (wbk), cuckolding (shiiiiit we getting all these kinks in this fic Jesus!), overstimulation, oral sex (f receiving), fear play, a panic attack, obscene use of the word "cunt" (it's actually my favourite word, I think), manipulation, switch!Reader; forced submission, cock-stepping, ruined orgasm,

This story is kind of dark and also kind of creepy. In real life scenarios, this kind of behaviour is never acceptable but as this is a work of fiction it should be treated as such. I am not glamorising or romanticising stalking or any of the more damaging tags that this fic is associated with. Basically, don't do it. It's creepy and weird. Always make sure kinks are fully negotiated before you put them into practice, and also don't stalk people. That isn't okay. And if you are going through that right now, please know that there are so many resources available to make sure you are safe. But also please take care of yourself. I am also not associating Namjoon with any of these traits in real life. Nor am I assuming his real-life sexuality. I reiterate, this is a work of fiction, nothing more. If you are triggered by any of the above tags, DO NOT read this fic. Your mental health is far more important than a story.

Words mentioned in the fic that aren't featured anywhere except The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, John Koenig (I'm testing the waters here so please bear with me):

Ghough: n. A hollow place in your psyche that can never be filled, a bottomless hunger for more food, more praise, more attention, more joy, more sex, more money, more hours of sunshine; a sense of panic that everything good will be taken from you too early, which makes you swallow the world before it ends up swallowing you. Onomatopoeic to the sound of a devouring maw. Pronounced "hawkh", with air drawn sharply inward through the mouth. ­

He couldn't help that he was so obsessed with you. It was your fault really... you shouldn't be so intoxicating that you'd cause his brain to overload with nothing but thoughts of you. You came into his life like an atom bomb, tearing a hole through his planet to the point where he never thought he would recover. All you did was smile at him and ask him if he wanted a bag to carry his pastries home with. But your smile was so pulchritudinous, so enslaving, your hair messy and disheveled from your hardworking nature, and flour all over your sweet face; he was a goner at the very second. He glanced at your nametag and memorised the spelling with such speed he was barely out of the bakery before he'd begun to search for you on social media. The worst part about it all was the fact that he wanted to know so much more about you but didn't want to concern you. He knew that men had a tendency to come on too strong and that you'd probably be on your guard. He wanted you to be at ease with him, to realise that he was the only one who could keep you happy for the rest of your life. If that meant he had to treat you delicately then so be it. Fragile you were, and careful he'd be. He was in it for the long haul, a true gentleman of the modern era.

All he really wanted to know was your work times. He just wanted to know when he'd come into the store and bump into you. Honestly, he had no intention of searching for anything else, except maybe some of the things that you enjoyed so he could strike up a natural conversation with you. But that was it – scout's honour. He discovered from your social media that you were an avid baker, who loved working at the local bakery not because it was a temporary source of income until something better came along, but because this was the better option for you. Sure, you were paid just above the minimum wage, but this was your lifelong passion, and you prided yourself on putting your happiness first. He also unveiled that you had plans to become a business owner yourself, bringing in your main source of income while just doing your hobby. It was a smart idea really – who wanted a job they hated when they could be paid well for what they loved? You were a smart woman. A true unicorn in a field of horses. He decided there and then that you were his soulmate. And as he sat in the park, scrolling through your social media profile and discovering more about you, he was sure the pastries you baked him were the best he'd ever eaten.

He came into the bakery around two days later at the exact time when you would be working. Unfortunately, though, this time your co-worker was manning the till for you, allowing you to hide in the kitchens and not venture into the main room. Last time your co-worker was on a break, which was why you looked so frazzled and stressed. You Tweeted about how the batch that was baking at the time Namjoon entered the premises had burned because you were trying to do everything. Your co-worker was useless anyway. They never helped you. You were running that business as if it were your own. He needed to cause some kind of distraction to get you out there so he could talk to you. But what could he do sneakily? If he caused a scene – you'd panic. He couldn't bear being the cause of one of your anxiety attacks. He also didn't want to fake complain about anything because he knew you'd panic and think you weren't good enough. And he couldn't be the reason that you'd never realise your dream and your full potential. Compliments were good... maybe he could try and pass on a message... but it would be better coming from him and not your idle assistant. If he told her to tell you something, he would have no doubt it would go in one ear and out the other. No, he had to do it in person.

He stepped forward and looked at her nametag. "Excuse me, Emma. Could you grab the chef for me? I would like to compliment her work."

Emma gave him a look that called him peculiar. "Chef? What do you think this is, a restaurant?"

Namjoon simply smiled. "And you're like... twelve?"

A voice came from the kitchens. "Emma, take a break." Emma didn't reply. She only rolled her eyes, picked up her phone and made her way to the back room. Namjoon turned to look at the voice, only to discover it was you.

You were much more put together than the last time he saw you – clearly your day wasn't quite as hectic as it was two days ago. Not that he minded your tousled appearance. On the contrary, he found it cute and endearing, but there was no doubt that you were a Venus on Earth. An eighth wonder of the world that lay undiscovered in the quiet city you both called home. There was a light dusting of flushed pink nestled on your cheeks to indicate some hard work, but not enough to make you break into a sweat. Your hair was back off your face, allowing him to marvel at your refinement. Poised, bright, bubbly, with a smile that could knock anyone off their feet. He was falling for you and falling so fast he wondered just how hard the impact would be when he landed.

Suddenly, you spoke again. Your soft voice dancing into his ears and lifting his spirits just a little more. Oh, how sweet you sounded. "How can I help you, sir?"

Oh, how can you help me indeed, he thought to himself. Wistful thoughts catching him off guard and seemingly turning into a brand-new person. "I-I don't know if you remember me," he was finally able to choke out, "I was here two days ago... I bought some pastries."

You smiled. Of course, he'd buy pastries, this was a bakery after all. "I remember you."

You did? He was sure you were lying to make him feel better. You did, after all, house the kindest heart in your chest. There was no mistaking you wouldn't want him to feel awkward or upset. "Oh, you do? Well, I hadn't been here before and I just wanted to thank you for making such delicious treats. I really enjoyed them! They were my favourites – the best I'd eaten in a long time." Mentally he scolded himself for saying the words delicious treats aloud. Why was he talking so formally to you? And why did it make him sound like an elderly man? It was weird and it made him cringe. You made him so nervous he became overly polite. Why would you bewitch him in such a way he couldn't form sentences without seeming like a creep?

Wait... was that a smile he saw? "How did you know it was me who baked them?" Were you teasing him? There was no doubt you were playful; he knew it from finding your friend's posts about you. He watched you goof around with them with such a childlike freedom. It was wonderful to see you so extricated and alive.

It was his turn to tease, "I'd never mistake a gorgeous face."

You blushed. He'd won. "Well, that's very kind of you to say so, thank you."

"I was wondering if I could get your number?" He bluntly asked, still feeling so shy despite his obvious charm working on you. "I would love to thank you properly for creating such a memorable experience with a memorable experience of my own."

"Oh? And what would this memorable experience be?"

He smiled, "Well, if I told you then you wouldn't want to come. There's nothing wrong with a little mystery, especially for a first date."

Your smile dimmed slightly as you considered your response, no doubt weighing up your options quickly to ensure your safest and most comfortable option. "Of course. Here you are." You gave him your number on a napkin and told him to call you.

The thing you didn't realise was, he had already found and saved your number into his phone. He was just hoping for permission to call you.

Namjoon had scheduled a date for you both the following weekend on your first day off. He had made sure that you had no plans written on your Google calendar, but of course, he couldn't just come out and say that he knew you even had a Google calendar, let alone your schedule. But he just couldn't wait a week to see you. He was buzzing with teenage excitement, lovesick nerves and anxiety that the whole day should go as exactly to plan, and that you had such a good time you would have no reason to not fall in love with him as he had with you. He was aware you wouldn't experience love at first sight. He was convinced he wasn't much of a looker himself, but he knew he had the personality of someone you could hold very close to your heart. You needed time to see how perfect he was for you. And while he was willing to wait for you to fall for him, he refused to wait to see you.

He hadn't been to work in a few days, calling in and telling his boss he had some kind of stomach bug and it was best he stayed home for a while. His boss, like the fool he was, believed Namjoon and told him to take all the time he needed. Of course, Namjoon had no plans to be away for so long, but every day he kept finding himself being drawn to this one place in particular... your house.

Your low income meant that you lived in a small flat in a run-down building just off the main road. You were a few metres away from the nearest bus stop, and the bus that ran near your house wasn't convenient enough to be considered a main route, therefore the price of your rent went down to a mere three hundred per month. Well, the routes were only a small contributor. The biggest was that your neighbourhood was filled with crime. As soon as he discovered this, he became anxious for your safety. Of course, you'd lived there for long enough without him in your life, but the second it was appropriate he would whisk you away to the nicer part of town, nearby your brand-new bakery.

You were on the first floor, and he could see your place through the window on the street. You didn't have any curtains; you were practically inviting him inside. Though, of course, the true reason was that you preferred the natural light and curtains blocked that from you. Even so, you seemed to not care about your possessions or your privacy which was concerning given your location. God, he wanted to be in there with you, feeling your warm body tangled up next to his, snuggled close together on the sofa and watching some kind of trashy show on the television. Something you, especially, were particularly fond of. He had no taste for that rubbish, but for you he'd watch anything.

The days passed so quickly, and Namjoon was shocked to wonder just where they went. Every day he came to your house and watched you live your life, even after your very successful first date. He was still drawn to you. Sometimes he would text you to see your reaction to him, and oh, how it warmed his heard to watch you dive across your living room to get to your phone, and how brightly you smiled when you saw it was him. You acted as though you missed him. You were starting to fall for him too, he could feel it.

There was a burglary in your neighbourhood just two hours after he left your home, and when he heard the news break from one of his colleagues when he finally returned to work, he immediately left to go to your house. He didn't remember what the excuse was he gave his boss. Quite frankly, he didn't care. He needed to know that your place wasn't next.

In his haste, he forgot that you were still at work, which gave him the mental justification to figure out just how safe your house was from intruders. He had to know that you were safe and well protected. He wasn't breaking into your house... not really. He was just testing the home his future wife temporarily called hers. And there absolutely was nothing wrong with that. And it was just as he feared it would be: easy. Namjoon was beside himself. Did you not care about your safety and wellbeing like he did? Did you want people to break into your house? It sure seemed that way given the ease in which your door opened for him, and the lack of curtains hanging from your living room wall. You were inviting anyone to look in, to come in. Maybe that was what you wanted. Maybe there was something dark and twisted inside your innocent head that wanted something bad to happen to you. Maybe you got off to the idea.

And suddenly that was all he could think about. Thoughts consumed him of him breaking into your house and doing as he pleased with your body. His body. How he could play with you while you slept, how he could touch your skin without you knowing. How he could take you any which way he pleased, and you wouldn't have a goddamn say in it. You'd just have to be a pliant girl and take what you were given. Yes. Yes! Fuck, his hand felt good around his cock as he stroked it quickly, picturing your writhing body underneath him. The glint in your eye that was slightly fearful, but mostly full of desire. He knew that your tight, wet heat would feel so much better than his hand, but he just couldn't resist. What if instead of finding you asleep in bed, he found you on the couch? Him being so desperate for you he'd take you then and there. Not bothering to remove your clothes or his for that matter. Just pulling his cock out, moving your panties to the side and fucking into you with reckless abandon. Tugging your bra down to give your perfect breasts the room they needed to bounce uncontrollably with every thrust. Fuck. Taking you in front of the window. Making sure your neighbours saw the man who claimed you. Yes. Mine. Mine! "Mine!"

He came all over your coffee table. His seed pooling on the wood and dripping down onto the laminate floor. Thankfully it was easy to clean and wouldn't leave an unwelcome stain when it was removed. But he couldn't remove it now. He was too tired. Too worked up. The first time he thought of you sexually and he violated himself in your very living room. It was unforgivable yet addicting.

This became a regular occurrence for him. He'd wait until you'd left the house then make his way inside, just so he could be near you – feel you surrounding him. Breathing you in like you were his oxygen. He wouldn't always stay in your living room. Sometimes he'd nap on your bed and envelope himself in your sheets. Sometimes he'd imagine you masturbating for him on the bed, and he'd make himself cum while burying his face in your pillow, praying you rode it multiple times. But that dirty thought gave him an idea... your panties. When he used your bathroom one time, he saw your almost full laundry basket. Yet for some reason, his dumb mind didn't comprehend the fact that your angelic pussy had been caged in some of the fabric, that it would smell like you. He touched himself while he had your panties pressed to his nose, or his tongue rolling over fabric just so he could get the smallest taste of you. He imagined the real thing. Your hands in his hair, your screams of pleasure, the begging you'd do for more. Fuck, he was obsessed with you!

However, one day something unexpected happened: you came home early. He had no idea why you'd come home early – this wasn't your usual pattern of behaviour. You were usually consistent and reliable, yet here you were making the steps to your bedroom while he was standing in it, cock in his hand and jerking it while licking a pair of your panties he'd stolen from the bathroom. To say Namjoon panicked would be an understatement. He knew the implications of his current standing, and the consequences of him being caught. He needed to think fast. You were so close to the bedroom now. His only option was to hide in your closet and pray you didn't come home to change.

Luckily for him, that wasn't the reason you came home.

You were on the phone to someone, but he couldn't tell who it was. He hadn't memorised your calling behaviour yet, so he couldn't tell if you were talking to family, or if this was a business call. Though, when he heard your giggle, and saw the way in which you lay on your bed, this was definitely not a business call.

Your legs spread as soon as your back touched the plush surface of your bed, and instantly, you moaned. He couldn't tear his eyes away from you, secretly watching you from the closet as you removed your panties and rolled your skirt up. He couldn't quite catch a glimpse of your pussy from the angle he was at, but that didn't matter too much for him. He saw your hand dip into the wetness of your cunt to pull up and lubricate your clit, giving it a few tentative strokes before speaking. "Daddy, you're such a tease. Please let me."

As soon as he heard the word 'daddy', he wanted to come out of the closet, turn you onto all fours and pound into you while Daddy was still on the phone. Wanted the dirty pervert on the other end of the line to hear that the woman he was speaking to belonged to someone else. Wanted to hear the primal way in which Namjoon railed his princess. Though, he had to admit, hearing the word 'daddy' being moaned from your plump lips introduced a brand-new kink in him. He wanted you to call him that. He was going to be your daddy.

But one thing he didn't know was how much of a whore you were. He didn't know that you were dating him and had another man on the side. Who was this man? And why did he get most of your attention? As of that moment, he tried not to think too much of it, as your perfect breasts were released from the confines of your bra. His cock, he realised, never went soft. In fact, more blood rushed to it as he watched you play with yourself for another man. As he watched you strip quickly so you were incredibly naked for this person who couldn't even see you. Fuck, your body was just as perfect as he imagined it would be – in fact, it was better than he imagined. He was going crazy.

You moaned and put the phone on speaker. "No please, Daddy. Let me do it. Let me rub my pussy."

A voice came from the other end of the phone, and it certainly put some shock into Namjoon. "Okay, angel. I want you to take a pillow in between your beautiful legs and rub yourself on it. Imagine it's my pussy." A woman? You were having phone sex with a woman – and you called her 'Daddy'? Fucking hell, Namjoon almost came prematurely. You were very quiet about your sexuality online, so he didn't come to expect that you were at the very least bi-curious. He watched you manoeuvre your pillows to a comfortable degree before placing your pussy over the top. Your hips began to move and you let out an incredibly loud moan. No doubt finally feeling good at the relief you were able to experience.

"Daddy, your pussy feels so good against me."

"You like it, baby? Fuck, I wish we were on video call. I wanna see how good you look rubbing against your pillow like a dumb slut."

A cheeky smile passed on your lips as you picked the phone up. Namjoon watched you hide the calling screen and move to take a video. You were filming yourself for your Daddy to tease her. You were a wildcard, and Namjoon hadn't bet on it. One day, he knew you were going to treat him like this too, and he wasn't sure if he was actually ready for it. There were so many times where he thought he was going to cum, he had to pause and just watch you before the lack of stimulation was unbearable. You were so loud for Daddy, there was no doubt the neighbours could hear you, too. Namjoon wondered how many of them were also touching themselves while listening to your heavenly moans. All the more reason to fuck you in front of the window. Remind them that you're not to be touched. He thought, squeezing his balls. He watched as your hips moved faster, heard as your moans grew louder, and came on your closet door when you soaked your pillow.

As it turned out, you were quite partial to touching yourself and did it so frequently that you knew exactly how to please yourself. And Namjoon wished he could always time his visits when you would be touching yourself so he could have his live show again and again. And knowing he missed so much of you already had prompted him to purchase a series of cameras. They were tiny things that could be hidden easily, even in plain sight, and so he did. The main bulk of the cameras were hidden in the two rooms you spent most of your time: the living room and the bedroom.

It became his routine to monitor them at the end of the day before bed. He'd watch you almost on a live stream during the weekend, so he didn't miss a thing, and coincidentally was also the time that you came alive. What he hadn't anticipated was that your personal escapades were in no way exclusively tied to the bedroom, and in fact, sometimes you'd just stuff your pussy full while watching TV. You'd spread your legs and prop them up on the coffee table, and mindlessly pound away, letting the dildos get bigger and bigger each time you no longer felt satisfied. You didn't always hit orgasm every time you used them, but Namjoon certainly did. He thanked his lucky stars he bought cameras with microphones, because he might have lost his mind if he didn't hear you. So many hours of you playing with yourself, so much content for him to jerk off to. He couldn't quite believe it.

He experimented with you a few times without you knowing it. Sometimes he'd text you while you were in the middle of fucking yourself, asking about what you were up to or trying to start a conversation. He was surprised to see you continue to play with yourself while texting him with a completely innocent smile on your face where you were so happy to hear from him. Other times he'd call you. He never expected you to answer the phone, but sometimes you did. If he wasn't watching you take in a cock that was above the average size, he would assume that you were doing nothing. You were able to hide the pleasure in your voice so well from him, but he could always see your face screwed up in ecstasy. Or even mouthing the occasional expletive to cope with the incredible bliss you were feeling. It wasn't even as if you were going easy on yourself, sometimes you were bouncing on the cock you'd wedged in between the couch cushion or suctioned to the laminate floor.

Despite you both dating for almost a month, he was yet to be officially invited into your house, or into your pussy. He tried – subtly, but the attempt was still there. But you weren't having it. It wasn't that you didn't want to. In fact, Namjoon had audible and visual proof that sometimes you would bounce on an above-average cock and call out his name. He wanted to know what you were thinking of during those times: what you imagined him doing to you. He hoped it was the same as what he'd imagined. But of course, he'd never force that on you. Traumatising you was the last thing he wanted. So he bade his time, waiting for the day that you gave him the honour.

He was invited into your house before you allowed him to sleep with you. The two of you went out to drink one Saturday night, and you got more wasted than he did. But, of course, he was a gentleman. He took you home and got you to bed. He would never take advantage of you. He didn't touch you inappropriately or force you to do anything he wanted you to do. Even when you made a grab for his crotch and begged him for it. He wanted your first time together to be completely sober so you'd both remember it. It didn't stop him from getting hard, though, and it certainly never stopped him from stroking his cock over your sleeping body, remembering what it was like to ever so briefly feel your touch in the area he wanted it the most.

He watched your eyes flicker and heard your sleepy sighs as the head of his cock got closer and closer to your face, touching your lips gently. He was imagining your lips wrapped around it, how warm and wet it would feel and how good you'd suck him. There were thoughts crossing his mind about how easy it would be to violate you right now. How he had to fight himself from reaching down and playing with your clit, knowing your pussy was smooth to the touch and wet. How he could spread your legs and sink his length inside and you'd probably know nothing of it until you woke up the next morning. "You'd love that, wouldn't you?" He whispered, eyes trained on your lips where his precum was beading and dripping onto. "You've wanted me to take this tight little cunt for months. Dirty whore."

He wondered what would happen if you woke up. He expected you'd be surprised but you'd consent very quickly. It never took much work to get you wet, after all. In fact, he'd even seen you gagging for it a few times, begging to no one when you'd fuck yourself stupid, hoping for someone to take you and rail you. He knew how filthy you could be, how open-minded you were, and even the stuff you'd say to yourself as you rode your various dildos. Even the fantasies you'd share with Daddy. How you'd pull your nipples and beg for someone to spit in your mouth or choke your pretty throat. How you'd even slap your own face and clit when you were told to.

The image of you underneath him, cheeks and neck red from where he'd been slapping you and choking you sprang in his mind. And the wild, delirious look in your eyes telling him you loved the pain he was giving you was what tipped him over the edge, spilling his cum onto your lips and watching it roll down your chin and cheeks. Of course, he cleaned you up gently so not to disturb you, but put the image of his cum on your face in the back of his mind to save for a later date. For now, he'd sleep.

He woke before you, his back sore from sleeping on the floor all night so as he could continue to take care of you but not invade your personal space more than what he did last night. Thanks to all his previous rummaging when you weren't around, he was able to remember what you had in your cupboards and fridge, allowing him to make you both the perfect hangover breakfast. He had planned to serve you breakfast in bed, waking you up gently with water, grease and an anti-sickness tablet. But you'd entered the kitchen long before he was ready to dish up. He stopped cooking and immediately turned to you, incredibly politely stopping what he was doing. "I'm sorry I did this without asking you first. I just wanted to surprise you."

You were not offended by his actions in the slightest. Instead, your eyes conveyed gratitude and warmth. You stood on your tiptoes to give him a gentle, yet tired, kiss on his lips. You teased him, "I'm angrier at you for letting me get drunk last night."

"All the more reason for me to make you the ultimate cure."

You poured yourself a glass of water and that was when Namjoon noticed it: your attire. You'd changed from last night, no doubt uncomfortable in those tight, ass-hugging jeans. Instead of being appropriately covered around a man who you still didn't fully know yet, you opted to wear an oversized shirt and nothing else. You definitely weren't wearing a bra. He'd seen you in your loungewear enough to know what your perfect tits looked like both caged in fabric and free. Maybe others couldn't tell the difference, but he certainly could. Knowing how you liked to be comfortable, he could also make an educated guess that you eschewed the option to wear your panties, too. The thought made him a little hard in his briefs.

You broke the silence and leant up against the counter next to him, looking up at his face as you spoke. "I want to apologise to last night. Or rather, apologise for anything I did or said to you that might have been a little rude."

Namjoon smiled, "You did nothing that wasn't welcomed."

"That means I did something."

"I'm certainly not holding it against you."

You groaned, "Oh God, what did I do?"

"Honestly, it's okay."

"No," you begged, "please tell me so I can properly apologise."

Namjoon sighed, "You grabbed my crotch and asked me to spend the night with you... in a nutshell."

You buried your head in your free hand. "I am so, incredibly sorry. I honestly don't know what I do when I'm that drunk. I promise, it's nothing that I would normally do."

"Like I said, I'm not holding it against you."

You breathed a sigh of relief, then paused. Namjoon could hear the cogs in your brain working as you thought about something. "Wait... you said that I didn't do anything that wasn't welcomed. So, how long have you waited for me, and wanted me to grab your cock and beg for sex?"

Namjoon stopped cooking and looked at you. He lowered his voice, "Now, baby, I never said you begged."

"Do you want me to beg for it?"

Namjoon turned to face you, and gently put his hand on your throat. There was no constriction: he allowed you to move his hand or move your body if you were uncomfortable. But you didn't move. You didn't even flinch. It was impressive the way you just smiled at him and held his wrist in place. It was almost as if you wanted him to tighten his grip – so he did. "What I want is neither here nor there, but I know that I'll have you crying for me. You'll be on your knees begging for me without me even having to order you."

Namjoon heard the little whimper that came from the back of your throat. He noticed the way your thighs were squirming, trying to relieve the pressure of your arousal. And he saw the way you swallowed to try and whet your very dry throat, but to no avail.

Suddenly, his grip on your throat loosened and his hand fell to his side. His attention turned back to cooking, though he could see your shock in his peripheral vision. He shrugged his shoulders, "But I don't know if we're ready for that kind of step yet. I wouldn't want to rush things."

He didn't need to see your face to know how stunned you were by the whole situation. If you were anything like him, which he had seen you were recently, he knew you would be contemplating getting on your knees and begging for him to rail you. It was hard enough for him to conceal his arousal from you. He didn't want you to see just how much you affected him.

You, however, did something that Namjoon wasn't expecting. You turned away from him and made your way over to an empty counter. As soon as you sat on it, you called Namjoon's name. When he turned to look at you, he watched you spread your legs for him – a sudden confidence he only saw when you were on the phone with "Daddy". His suspicions about you were correct in that you were wearing absolutely no underwear whatsoever, allowing him to see your perfect pussy in its entirety. He dropped the spoon he was holding and stared at your body, his mind turning numb.

Cutting the tension in the air, you spoke, "Remind me again, who's in charge?"

Touché, he thought. Finally, he was brought back to Earth. He turned the food off and strode over to where you were sat, immediately grabbing your cheeks and pulling you in for a rough kiss. He pressed his body so close to yours, you could feel his length press up against your core. The temptation was too irresistible, and the kiss was broken when you began to rub your clit against his clothed cock. You both moaned, though his was a little louder than yours. He buried his face in your neck and kissed a sensitive spot, humping against your pussy a little more desperately than he intended. His hand found its way to your hair and tugged, showing you his fullest intent to be as rough as he possibly could be with you. He wanted you to know what kind of things he enjoyed, knowing you enjoyed them to. "Do you think you're ready for me, baby?" He asked breathlessly.

You couldn't reply, all you could do was nod your head and hope it was enough.

It wasn't. Namjoon told you, "You need to use your words."

"Yes." You replied.

"Good girl. I'm going to fucking ruin you."

There was no foreplay involved, both Namjoon and you knew it wasn't necessary. You liked it when it hurt. So he simply pulled himself out of his trousers and entered you, staring directly into your eyes and watch them flicker with a plethora of emotions: pain, lust, pleasure. Your breath was taken away from you the moment you felt his head breach your walls. He was much, much bigger than you anticipated, and it hurt a little more too, but it didn't deter you, nonetheless.

Namjoon wanted to make the pain not so prominent to begin with, wanted to allow you the opportunity to get used to him and his size before he completely wrecked your insides. However, you had other plans. Your own hand went up to his hair, tugging at his roots. You smiled, and with a low voice you said, "Is that all you got?"

Upon hearing your words, he uttered, "You asked for it." And began to treat you exactly how you wanted. Clearly you wanted it rougher, and harder. Clearly you wanted to be treated like nothing more than a cheap whore. He'd seen the things you got off to, looked at your browsing history when you weren't home. He knew you were nothing more than a filthy slut, who enjoyed being used, and broken, and passed around. Though he didn't want his first time with you to be overshadowed by the darkest of your kinks, it seemed to be the only way to get you off. So, he was going to make this hurt in the best ways.

His hand returned to your throat again, squeezing a lot harder than he should have. His free hand came up to your face, and slapped it so hard it made you slightly dizzy. Then he slammed into you, burying himself immediately to the hilt. He wasted no more time, pulling out and crashing back inside. Over and over again. You were silent at first and had Namjoon been in a different mindset he would have been concerned. But you'd unleashed something neither of you knew existed, and now all Namjoon was concerned about was his own pleasure.

"This is all you're good for, isn't it?" Namjoon asked. His voice was breathy and husky. "Nothing but a place for me to put my dick."

You tightened in response to his words, letting out an extremely loud moan at one rough thrust.

"Whoring yourself out to the first man who takes care of you." He tsked. "Shameful bitch!"

Tighter.

"I bet you thought you were safe with me, didn't you? Fuck." You felt so good. So tight. Getting tighter and he couldn't help himself. "I bet you thought I wouldn't do anything to you. Didn't you?" Namjoon grew impatient at your lack of verbal response, and slapped your face again. "Didn't you?"

"Yes!"

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Dumb bitch." His pace picked up. He had you trapped in between the cupboard and his solid body. "You begged me for this last night, don't you remember?" He moaned loudly. "Had me so hard. I could have fucked you then. Do you know what I did instead?"

Your pussy got tighter in anticipation. He allowed your hand to snake down and play with your clit.

"I jerked off over you. Came all over this pretty face of yours."

"Shit!" The speed of your fingers picked up. Your head banged gently into the cupboard door every time he entered you.

"Should have taken a video. Showed you what I did to you. You'd wanna see it, wouldn't you?"

"Yes! Oh fuck, Namjoon! I-"

You came. You came so hard all over his cock that you stopped breathing. Your mind was filled with the images he'd put in there, the whole idea that this seemingly sweet and charming man could do something so vile. You should have been disgusted. You should have felt frightened, but instead you squirted so hard, you forced him out of you and ruined his clothes with your juices.

Namjoon didn't allow you to recover, though. Instead, he pulled you off the counter, turned you around, and forced you to bend over. "Take you from behind. Remind you what a filthy goddamn animal you are." Entering you again, he picked up his pace. "Give me that cunt." His hands were roughly grabbing at your hips, giving him the leverage to rail you as hard as possible. His voice was deeper than you'd ever heard it, and he was moaning and grunting so loudly. The sound of him was getting you more turned on than ever. You'd never been with a man as vocal as Namjoon, as willing to talk dirty and just let you hear how much he was enjoying your body. The verbal confirmation was enough to drive you insane.

"N-Namjoon, did you – fuck – did you touch me?"

"When?"

"Last night wh-when you jerked off."

"No." Why did you feel disappointed? "Did you want me to?"

"Yes!" God, your cunt was responding so well to this. It loved these details, this whole scenario. It was so greedy, practically begging for more. You weren't even sure if you could have more.

"Tell me, slut. What did you want me to do to you?"

Now it was Namjoon's turn to become putty. "W-wanted you to touch me. Touch my clit. Lick it. Oh fuck! Namjoon, right there! Please don't stop! Please!"

"What else, bitch?"

"F-force me to cum! Make me take your cock! W-wanna wake up to you using me."

"Yeah? You wanna be my fucking flesh-light, don't you? You're disgusting. Turn you into my breeding bitch, what do you think?"

"Yes! God, yes! Breed me, please!"

"Keep you tied to the bed and stuffed full of my cum."

"T-tell your friends I'm there, they c-can use me too!"

Namjoon wrapped his forearm around your neck and pulled you up to him, choking you for real this time. Breathing had become painful and even more difficult with him still forcing his cock inside of you. "No!" He said loudly. "You're mine! You belong to me. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" You choked out.

Namjoon released his grip on you, and you fell forward gasping for air. "Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Dumb slut. You're mine. You're my property now. To use and fuck whenever I want. No one else can have this cunt, do you understand me?"

"I understand!"

"God I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna fill you up so good. Knock you up. Show everyone who you belong to."

"Please cum inside me! Cum inside your filthy cunt, sir."

"Touch yourself. Make yourself cum again."

"I can't."

He grabbed hold of your hair and tugged. "You can and you fucking will."

You did as you were told. Your pussy was so oversensitive that any touch was kind of painful. But it felt so delicious. Once you started rubbing your clit, despite the ache, you couldn't stop. You had truly lost your mind to Namjoon, allowed him to take over your entire consciousness. You were just his obeying toy. His personal plaything. You heard him grunt loudly behind you, his voice turning into a predatory growl, before feeling him fill you up with his cum. The growl did something new to you; the shock of it making you hit your second orgasm. Then... darkness.

You woke up in your bed, covered up completely by your duvet and surrounded by nothing but warmth. You don't remember how you got there but moving had proven to be too difficult for you. Your pussy throbbed unbearably, reminding you of what took place in your kitchen. You wanted it again though. Oh, you loved that side of Namjoon.

He was underneath you, your head on his chest and both of his arms wrapped around you holding you impossibly close to him. He was asleep, but your squirming had made him wake a little, grumbling something when you moved your head to look at his face. Sleepy, dragon eyes looked back at you, with a small grin accompanying them. "Hi." You whispered.

"Hi."

You paused. "Namjoon, did you really touch yourself over me last night?"

Namjoon replied immediately, "No. Sorry, I said that in the heat of the moment."

"Oh, no. It's okay. I liked it."

"You did?" Namjoon could tell that you wanted to say something, but you were hesitant to. "What is it, my love?"

"If you did want to... you know... touch me while I slept or even do more things to me, that would be okay."

Namjoon smiled. "Do more things?"

"Yeah, you know."

"I don't know, you're going to have to use your words." You buried your face in his chest. "Why are you shy all of a sudden?"

"It's awkward."

"What things did you want me to do?"

"You can fuck me if I'm asleep if you wanted to. I love the idea of being used whenever and wherever."

"Yeah? You really want to be my own toy?"

You nodded.

"You're so cute." He told you, gently booping your nose.

Things were good between the two of you for a while. He would come to your house every day and you'd both be tangled up in the sheets, sometimes going multiple rounds. You couldn't get enough of each other. The only bump in the road you hit was when he found out about your side-hustle: your sex work. You had been posting yourself online for a while to make up for the money you lost at the bakery and had found yourself a few clients. One in particular, "Daddy", you'd speak to on a regular basis. You didn't know her real name, but you knew a lot about her and her life. She was a long, blonde-haired businesswoman who was a closet lesbian and a mother to two children. Both of whom were in upper middle and high school. She would pay you hundreds, if not thousands per session, sometimes through bank transfers, other times through fun toys and clothes through the mail.

Namjoon had known about Daddy for a while, of course, but he hadn't made that fact known to you. He wanted to wait for the opportune moment when it would feel organic and not as though he were watching you through several cameras at any given moment. On his way to your house, he checked the cameras as he usually did, expecting to find you getting ready for their date that night, but instead he found himself watching you figure out how to tie yourself up using beginner's bondage equipment. He also could make out something pink inside you, but the picture was too small for him to be able to see for certain what it was. Though, he felt he could assume it was a vibrator of some kind. He connected his headphones to his phone to allow the full experience. He was annoyed that you were still doing this, but he was going to enjoy it as much as he could while he could.

You were grunting and groaning from the pressure you were putting on your body, contorting in random shapes to fit your limbs into the fabric cuffs. Now, lay on your back, propped up against your pillows with your legs wide open, your attention was drawn to Daddy on the phone. "Are you ready, Princess?" Daddy asked you in a sweet tone.

"Yes, Daddy."

"Good girl. We're going to start gently, okay?"

The sound of the toy was almost non-existent. Through the headphones, Namjoon couldn't hear anything at all underneath your soft sighs and gentle whines. You had begun squirming already. How were you all tied up and still adorable? You could barely cope with the pleasure that you were being given at any time, always trying to squirm away from it whenever you could.

Namjoon scrunched his face in disgust when Daddy spoke again. "How's that, Princess?"

Breathlessly, you responded, "F-feels good already." All the blood drained from his head and went straight to his cock at the sound of your voice, fucked out already and you hadn't even begun your session. He could feel himself chubbing up, watching you writhe and chase your pleasure.

"I wonder what happens when we do this..."

You thrashed a little more violently on the bed after Daddy had finished speaking. She had turned the vibrator up significantly given your reaction.

"It's too much!" You cried. "I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

"Ah!" The vibrator went up a little more. You were trembling so much. Namjoon knew how it felt to be above you when you shook like that. He strained against his zipper. It was too uncomfortable. All the while, you screamed, "Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes, yes!"

"There?" Daddy asked.

"Yes, Daddy!"

Fuck. Hearing the word on your lips did something to Namjoon. He had never been interested in that kink before, but you were changing him. You were making him more perverted than he had ever been. It sounded so sweet, so sexy coming from your lips. Any other woman would have made him cringe.

"Do you want to cum, Princess?"

"I do. I wanna cum, Daddy. Can I cum?"

"Cum for me."

And so you did. Your back arched and your legs moved inward attempting to close and clamp around the vibrator, but the restraints held you back. You went silent for a moment as the initial shock of the orgasm hit you, but once you regained your breath, you were loudly moaning. Usually, you would push Namjoon away a little as a sign you needed a few seconds to regain the mental capacity to continue, but Daddy wasn't in the room, and you couldn't remove the vibrator yourself. The pleasure you were feeling began to dance the line between unbearable pain and overwhelming gratification. And watching your reaction to this... torture, Namjoon had to rub his cock over his pants as discreetly as he could without drawing too much attention to himself. He couldn't be arrested for public indecency as he watched his girlfriend being virtually fucked by her sugar-mommy.

By the time Namjoon arrived at your house, you were on your fourth orgasm of the night. He snuck in and put his phone away when he peeked into the bedroom to watch the live version. You were so much more ethereal this way: covered in sweat, panting hard, tears running down your cheeks. You were absolutely fucked out, but Daddy hadn't finished with you yet. Your fifth orgasm hit just moments after. You had no idea that Namjoon was in your house, or even standing in your bedroom door. Your eyes were shut tight and your mouth was open in a silent scream.

Fifth.

Namjoon unbuttoned his jeans and started touching himself at the sight of you. Debauched and destroyed at the hands of another person. God, he couldn't wait to do this to you.

The sixth orgasm was your final one. Daddy made some excuse after turning the vibrator off and left abruptly, not bothering with aftercare or making sure you got out of your harness okay. That made Namjoon mad, but at least he was here to take care of you. To look after his most precious prize after she was cruelly abandoned by someone she shouldn't even be talking to. But that was okay. You'd come to your senses eventually. You'd see how wonderfully he treated you compared to others. He, of course, couldn't let what transpired in front of him pass by without a punishment.

The noise of him adjusting himself and shifting his weight caused you to look over in his direction, a look of panic on your face until you realised it was him. And then you realised. "H-how long have you been standing there?"

"Since orgasm number four."

"Namjoon, please! I can explain. Just untie me and we can talk."

Namjoon sat on the side of the bed. "Talk? About how I just watched my girlfriend get dominated by another woman?"

"No, please. It's not what it looks like. She pays me. Please, untie me. We can talk about this."

You looked so desperate and vulnerable, lying there watching him coming towards you. Stalking his prey before he was about to attack. He put his index finger on your clit and began to put pressure on it, pushing you into oversensitivity and making you scream. "So, you really are a whore, aren't you? I couldn't believe it. My sweet, beautiful girlfriend loves being called one, she couldn't actually be one, could she? But here you are," he added more pressure, "offering this tight little cunt up to the highest bidder." He leant over you, biting your ear as two fingers pulled out the toy. "You like it when people use you for their own pleasure, don't you? If I used you now, how much would you charge me, hm?" He spanked your pussy. "How many other cocks have been in this filthy pussy?"

"Please." You whimpered.

Namjoon imitated your voice. "Please." He laughed, almost maniacally. It scared you. But the more insane he seemed, the longer he toyed with your sensitive core, the more turned on you felt.

Suddenly, his hand left your vulva and gripped on tightly to your cheeks. He bent over you, dropping his mouth to your ear and mumbling, "I'm going to fuck you, little slut." His free hand reached down to his cock and freed it from his jeans and underwear. He moved on top of you, trapping your legs to the bed underneath him. It was evident to you now that your comfort never crossed his mind. It shouldn't turn you on. The idea of being nothing more than his cum receptacle should repulse you. But despite the discomfort your body was in, your mind and heat were fully ablaze with arousal. He lined himself up and pressed the tip to your waiting core. "I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to lie there and take it."

Without any other warnings, he slammed into you, causing you to cry out. The headboard shook violently with each thrust, reminding you that you were insignificant right now. All of his weight was on top of you, nearly smothering you. You had no choice to lie there and take it. You couldn't fight him even if you tried. Part of you wanted to. Part of you wanted to see how vicious he'd get if you pretended to resist. When he was so animalistic in the way he was taking you. This wasn't the Namjoon you knew. But, God, you loved how he was abusing you. The noises you were making, you hardly recognised yourself. While Namjoon had devolved into a primal state, you, too, weren't far off. Howling at the top of your lungs every time he slammed into you. "You vile fucking bitch. You fucking love it, don't you?" His words were venomous.

"More."

"You're fucking shameless, aren't you? Fuck. How many men have fucked your tramp pussy, hm? How many women have watched you play with yourself for money? I bet the whole city watches you, and gets off to you whoring yourself out." His fingers dug into your flesh the harder he fucked you. In his head, he could see a line of men queuing outside your bedroom door, lining up to bury themself inside you, throwing money at you when they'd finished. There would be copious amounts of cum all over you, inside you, staining your bedsheets. There'd be bills strewn about the place. He imagined someone rolling up a bill and putting it inside you while you lay on your bed still tied up. Sometimes he'd see you taking multiple cocks at the same time. He hated the idea of other men touching you but watching them do unspeakable things to your whore body forced a visceral, almost primal reaction out of him.

In that moment, you were no longer human to him. His brain didn't register that you could feel things, that you could even speak. Somehow, he had the ability to get rougher with you; hands holding your flesh tighter, cock violating your cunt, you tied up and powerless beneath him, unable to stop it or save yourself from this violent onslaught.

Your orgasm was building. Your breaths were getting shorter and shorter. Your vision becoming blurry.

"Shit! Now look at you. Falling apart on my dick after showing yourself off to someone else. You can't get enough can you?"

His sweat was dripping from his face onto yours, his teeth grazed your perfect skin almost threateningly. His breath was ragged, tired. It seemed as if he couldn't breathe either.

"Sir," you breathed, "cumming." That was the only word you were able to say before you reached your peak, tightening painfully around his cock. This orgasm was bordering on painful, and you tried to get away; fight for a bit of respite before he continued. But as his whole weight was on top of you, you were truly trapped and fully at his mercy.

Namjoon took a second to look up at your face, flushed and perfect. A peaceful expression on your face, though. You'd passed out. Your exhausted body had gone limp while you attempted to regain some strength. And something else in Namjoon came back. You were unable to stop him before, there was nothing to stop him now. "I can't wait to look back on this, Princess." He told you.

He took this opportunity to quickly untie the useless restraints you wore, and flipped you onto your stomach. With you in the prime position for it, he was tempted to take your ass. Force his way inside and make that hole his too. But, somehow, he resisted the urge. He slid back into your wetness and continued his ministrations, speedily approaching his own release. He was going to cum so hard this time. He could feel the strength building, and building.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

With a shout, he collapsed onto your back, emptying himself into you. His orgasm felt never-ending. Breathing was difficult. He wasn't even sure if he had the energy to pull out. He had to, though. He had to clean you up and take care of you. He felt gross upon reflecting on the words he uttered to you. The atrocities he uttered were unspeakable, yet he spoke them. And you came for him while he did. Regardless, guilt was beginning to set in for the first time in this relationship.

When you came to, you immediately felt heavily ghough. Hollow, numb. Not feeling Namjoon's touch immediately when you woke up sent you spiralling from a sub drop you'd never experienced before, overwhelmed and panicking. That was when Namjoon came into the room.

"Hey, hey." He said softly. "None of that, Baby. Come here." He set down the items in his hands on your bedside table and scooped you up into a hug. You had never felt more vulnerable than right now, crying into his bare shoulder when you were almost entirely naked. If it weren't for the sheet covering you, you'd be exposed to him completely.

"I'm s-sorry f-for not t-telling you about-" The attempt to apologise for lying to him was ruined by your sobs. But Namjoon just rocked and shushed you.

"I'm here, Baby. I'm here. You're safe. It's okay."

"I-"

"Don't talk. Just cry. I was too vicious to you wasn't, I? You're not any of those things. I love you so much." He kissed your cheek. "You're so kind..." he kissed your forehead. "And beautiful..." he kissed your other cheek. "And you are my entire world." He kissed your lips so softly, you could barely feel him. "And I love you." He pulled away from you briefly. "What did I just tell you?"

"That you l-love me."

"Good girl. Precious girl."

Though he was a little further away from you now, he still had his hand on your body, making sure that you could physically feel him at all times. He reached over and handed you the glass of water that he brought in. "Tiny sips, Baby." You obeyed, earning you praise to warm your heart. With every sip of water you took, you could feel yourself becoming calmer and calmer until all you felt was exhaustion. He had also handed you your favourite chocolate bar and told you to eat it in front of him, to get some of your sugar back up. He promised you pizza for later, and beckoned you to rest your head on his chest. As you snuggled into his body, you felt his finger tips brush up and down your spine, relaxing you and making you drift off to a deep and exhausted sleep.

Weeks later, on Namjoon's birthday, you made a somewhat disturbing discovery. You had only been to Namjoon's house a few times since you two began dating, given that most of your meetings were either out in the world or at your home. You were unsure why that was, but never thought anything of it. There were hundreds of innocent reasons as to why a person may not want to spend time in their own home, and if Namjoon wasn't ready to share his secrets with you, then who were you to force him? All in due course.

You, unbeknownst to your boyfriend, had booked the day off work to surprise him and celebrate his birthday with him when he returned. You hadn't meant to go snooping, honestly. It's just, you wanted to check on the arrival of the bespoke cake you'd ordered to his house. Your phone wasn't being helpful – stupid mobile sites – so you decided to do the next logical step and borrow his laptop. If you cleared the browsing history and site cookies, he'd be none the wiser. It would be fine.

Though, all your good feelings left when you opened his laptop (which didn't have a passcode on it) and saw that he'd left his last application open. Upon an automatic refresh, your mouth widened in shock and horror to find yourself looking into your own house. Multiple cameras installed at varying angles to capture the entirety of every single room. Live feeds with a constant recording so they could be viewed on demand, cut into various clips whenever something interesting happened. There were few videos of you doing mundane tasks. But most of the videos you saw showed you in your most intimate positions, either being fucked by Namjoon or touching yourself. Or on the phone to Daddy.

One by one, you scrolled through these videos, watching the scenes unfold. These dated back to the beginning of your relationship. You watched the videos when Namjoon fucked you and felt yourself get wet. One of the more recent videos being when he punished you for playing with Daddy. You remembered that night so vividly, it often became masturbation material when Namjoon wasn't around. To be able to watch it happen as though you were a stranger was more of a turn on than you'd anticipated. But then you saw videos you knew you weren't meant to see.

Namjoon let himself into your house frequently, especially at the beginning. And sometimes he'd still be in your apartment when you came home. You watched him hide in your closet, and some of the angles showed him stroking himself. You watched him sniff and lick your panties, cum over them and other things around your house, including the dildos you kept in the living room and the rim of your favourite mug where your lipstick stains were.

Way back in the beginning of the relationship, you found it peculiar that Namjoon would contact you while you were in the middle of playing with yourself. Sometimes, you'd be bouncing on the dildos in your living room and he'd call you. You thought it was an odd coincidence, nothing more, but now you knew the truth. He'd been watching you for months, stroking his cock to these secret videos of you and calling you to see if he could hear your moans. Your pussy throbbed at the thought.

You felt disgusted with yourself. The man you loved and trusted above all others had violated you. He filmed you without your knowledge or consent, broke into your home to defile your things, and watched you in your most private moments. You should be angry with him. You should hate him. Report him to the police at the very least. He wasn't sane – or normal. No ordinary person would do something like this. But your hand was now working over your clit, rubbing yourself while watching the evidence. Bucking your hips and stifling your moans as you watched yourself on screen, watched how your body responded to the pervert and listened to yourself wail for him. Watched him masturbate over your sleeping body. Listened to his horrific words.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

You wished you were awake to have heard that. You wished he'd said it in your ear while you were cognitive and present. Hearing that one word had your cunt clench and your fingers involuntarily work faster and harder. If you heard it from him, it would have hurtled you into another orgasm just like it had when hearing it through his laptop speakers, cumming all over your fingers and dripping on his dining room chair.

When you'd come back to your senses, you sat there for a little while contemplating what had just happened, and what steps you should take next. The logical side of you was very much screaming at you to run as fast as you could to the other side of the world and never tell him where you'd gone. Or at least to the police station to report him for the crimes he'd committed against you. The darker side of you, however, was almost begging you to mess with him. You could have so much fun now that you knew what he was doing. You struggled with the internal fight for the rest of the night, even when Namjoon was deep inside you, none-the-wiser that you knew his dirty little secret. While he was being gentle with you, making love to you, all you could hear was how he sounded when he told you he'd brutalise. The image of him choking you and ruining you had you cumming so hard for him. And he had no idea that you knew.

You avoided Namjoon for a few days after that, and it drove him insane. He wasn't used to going no-contact with you, or even not seeing you for more than eight hours at a time. When you told him that you needed to stop and think about things his imagination went into overdrive. He was glued to his computer screen during that time watching to see if anyone else entered your house, or if you were spreading your legs for another person. He didn't know what he would do if you were having an affair with someone else. But to add to his confusion, you saw no one. Not your best friend, not your family... you didn't even go to work. And he was worried you were spreading your legs for someone else, but you didn't even do it for yourself. That was when he knew something was wrong. He once joked that you masturbating was like a golden retriever eating; if it didn't happen then there was truly a problem.

After five days of hearing nothing from you, he finally received a text. He leapt at his phone when he realised it was you, and answered immediately. Responding to your invitation to come to your house. He was in a taxi faster than he ever had been before, and was at your house within 20 minutes.

You greeted him at the door, in an oversized t-shirt and bicycle shorts, his favourite outfit combination. The shorts always hugged your curves so perfectly, and the oversized t-shirt hung off your breasts. You looked delectable... but also insanely stressed.

You didn't say anything to him, just took him to your living room and sat down on the couch. He sat on the couch next to you, and didn't say a word until the silence was unbearable. This was it; you were going to break up with him, he knew it. "Are you okay, Baby?" He asked.

Instead of answering, you pulled out your phone and pressed something on your screen. You made sure the volume was up to its loudest setting. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled his ears, as did his grunts and moans as it became obvious what he was listening to.

"I can't wait to watch me brutalising your cunt over and fucking over. God I'm gonna cum. T-take it. Take my cock. Take my fucking cum!"

At least he has the decency to look horrified, you thought sadistically. Your face didn't show it, he didn't know it, but watching him squirm and panic was doing things to you. Your dominant, perverted boyfriend was now terrified and putty in your hands. The power had shifted, and it belonged entirely to you.

"You recorded us?" He asked quietly.

"Do you want to tell me why there are cameras all over my house, Namjoon?"

His eyes widened even more. "Wait, Baby, please! I can explain." He launched himself off the sofa and got on his knees in front of you, forcing you to look down on him. He looked pathetic, begging for your forgiveness, holding your thighs and anxiously waiting for your forgiveness. He told you everything from the very beginning about the robbery and the reason why he would so often break into your house, right to the cumming in your panties and watching you touch yourself every day. You could feel your shorts getting wetter and wetter at the vulnerability he was displaying. "How can I make this right, ____? I'll do anything."

The magic words. "Anything?"

"Name it."

"You're going to need to apologise."

"I'm sorry. I'm so, so so-"

"Not with your words." You lifted your hips and removed your shorts, revealing your dripping cunt to him. The cold air hit you and you could feel your clit tingling in anticipation, knowing that what was to come next was going to be the best night of your life. You spread your legs wider, giving him enough space. "But you can still use that nasty little mouth of yours."

He wasted no time, immediately throwing himself forward and lapping up your wetness, tongue moving desperately to try and make you feel good and keep him close. He sucked and licked on your clit fervently, and as hard as you tried to remain quiet, occasionally fervent moans would escape and tell him that he was doing good. You put your hand on his head and tugged at his hair.

"I wanted to make you suffer." You told him while he was still between your thighs. "Wanted to hurt you." You moaned and began bucking your hips. "Oh, fuck! That's it! Haven't touched myself in days because I knew you'd be watching. Couldn't let you feel good after the shit you pulled.

"Did you like watching me, Joonie?" Your tone changed, you began to taunt him. You pulled his head away by his hair. He tried to fight you, tried to get back to your cunt and finish what he started, but your grip stopped him. "Did you like watching me fuck myself and not know you were there?"

You peered down to his trousers to see his cock hard and ready to go and you laughed. "Kneel back." He did what you asked and unknowingly gave you access to him. You immediately stretched your leg and put your foot on his dick, pressing gently at first. You laughed at him when he let out a small moan, finally being granted a modicum of friction. "You know, if you'd have asked, I would have let you put the cameras up. I would have even put on a bigger show for you. I would have moaned louder, called your name, bent over and showed you my precious cunt. I would have given you all the material you could have ever wanted."

You applied more pressure to his dick, pushing down a lot harder and this time earning a groan of pain. "But you went behind my back like the fucking pervert you are. You watched me fuck myself in this very room and let me believe that I was alone. I always thought it was weird how you knew the things I was into. Turns out you've been letting yourself into my house and violating me in all aspects."

"Please."

"Please what? What are you begging for, perv?" You removed your foot from his cock and leant forward, roughly pulling his hair by the roots and making him look into your eyes. "You are not to touch yourself. You're going to make me cum in five minutes. If you don't, I'm going to walk out that door and you're never going to see me again. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

You leant back one more time and spread your legs again. You picked up your phone and started the timer. "Go."

He moved in pure desperation, there was no other way to describe it. Immediately, his mouth was attached to your clit, sucking harshly and quickly. He was fighting with your body and pulling out all the things he knew that drove you mad. Now there were high stakes. You were going to leave him if he couldn't perform the most basic of tasks. He immediately plunged two fingers inside you and began to roughly use them, hitting that soft spot and making you scream out in pure pleasure. You always loved his fingers inside you, he knew that. You told him he had beautiful hands and loved feeling them fucking your cunt, loved how deep they got, and how quickly they could move.

You didn't bother to hold back your moans. You were so loud for him. He loved it when you were loud. Perhaps you were being loud to torture him. He couldn't touch himself to your moans, so he could only listen to how good he was making you feel. And he was making you feel incredible. Your hips were wantonly moving on their own, and your hands were pushing his head further into your cunt. His fingers were picking up their pace. At this point, you were all but screaming.

He could feel you tightening. You were so close to cumming. He stole a glance at your discarded phone. Twenty seconds remained. He began to work harder, faster. His tongue ached from the constant use, and his hand was cramping up but you were so close.

Twelve seconds.

"Fuck! Namjoon! Just like that!"

Nine.

Eight.

"Oh my fucking God, Namjoon!"

Five.

"I'm gonna cum!"

Three.

The sound you made was guttural and animalistic. Your back arched and your grip on his hair tightened. "Fuck!" You came on his fingers as the timer went off. This wasn't a sweet and delicate orgasm like you'd usually get from his tongue, this was violent and powerful. The wind was knocked out of you and you squirted all over his face and your sofa, soaking the fabric of his t-shirt. He only pulled himself away from you when you made him. You were so exhausted you couldn't even turn off the timer, he had to do it for you. You were breathing heavily, eyes droopy from sleep. But you weren't finished yet.

"Strip." You ordered him. He obeyed. "Sit on the sofa."

Once he was settled on the sofa, you straddled him, feeling him bare beneath you. He hadn't fought you once, allowing you to take complete control of him, submitting to you as you usually do to him. He was so red and hard, and very pliant. His eyes never left your face, even when he felt your hand on his cock and lined him up. Saying nothing, you sat, feeling him fill up your empty walls quickly. It had only been a few days without him, but when the two of you fucked like rabbits, it felt like forever. He clearly felt so, too, judging by the moan he just let out.

He said your name and put his hands on your waist, looking down at where you two were joined. But giving him autonomy was not something you had planned. You grabbed hold of his wrists and pinned them by his head, against the back of the sofa. You put all your weight into your hands as you bounced on his cock, not giving him the room to move. He could probably completely overpower you and there was even a small part of you that wanted him to. But the power trip you were on right now, the way it felt to have a big, strong man entirely at your mercy had you even wetter than usual. Except for the grunts that Namjoon would let out, or the moans you would, the sound your cunt made as it swallowed Namjoon was so loud, and such a turn on.

Namjoon still wanted more, though. It was torture to see your breasts bounce from underneath your t-shirt. Usually when you rode him, he liked it if you were completely bare so he had total access to your body. But your t-shirt was blocking his view. Despite that, your nipples were still so hard and visible through the fabric, he couldn't help himself. He reached forward and took one into his mouth, biting down softly.

"Harder!" You told him. Your nipples were so sensitive, especially when you had the t-shirt on to rub against them. Namjoon's teeth clamped a little harder, causing you to moan out and pick up the pace. A big part of you regretted pinning him down with your hands - your clit was aching again, and needed to be played with.

"You know," you began breathlessly, "you always called me a slut, but now you're acting like this." You bent down and bit his neck, earning another groan. "You're so useless right now, aren't you? Can't even fuck me with this big useless cock. Even now you're so hard. Such a fucking pervert, aren't you?" When he didn't respond, you bit his neck harder. "Aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"Hmmm... not good enough." You stopped moving. "I want you to say it."

"I'm a pervert." He responded immediately.

You lifted yourself up and slammed back down, forcing a scream out of him. "Louder!"

"I'm a pervert!"

You laughed. "Look into the camera and say it."

The realisation dawned on him, the cameras were still rolling. There was now footage of him being dominated by you on both of your phones. A quick flicker in his mind appeared; what if you used this video against him? The scariest thought to him was that he didn't mind. He didn't care if you posted the video anywhere. In fact, he felt his cock get harder at the thought of people seeing him so weak for you. He looked directly into the lens, and opened his mouth. "I'm a pervert!"

You slammed back down on him again. But this time, you didn't stop.

"What did you do?"

"I - fuck - recorded my girlfriend without permission. You feel so fucking good, shit!"

"Did you watch them?"

He nodded.

"Which one did you watch the most?"

"When... when you were tied up... and I - fucking hell - fucked you so hard you passed out."

"Do you know what I watch?"

"No."

"I watch you touch yourself over me when I'm asleep."

"Fuck." His voice was barely a whisper.

"I watch you fuck your hand while sniffing my panties, acting like a desperate little slut that can't wait for his girlfriend's tight cunt he has to lick her underwear to get off."

"Please."

"Please what?"

"I want to cum."

"Where do you want to cum?"

"Inside."

"Inside me? You think your useless, filthy cock is good enough to cum inside me?"

"Please."

God, he sounded so desperate.

"Do you want to cum?"

"Yes!"

"Cum for me. Now."

His eyes lit up, he was so happy to finally be able to empty himself inside you. You watched his face for the telltale signs that he was right there. To help him, you sped up even more and moaned wantonly, being loud for him as he loved. He was so close.

"I'm gonna -"

As he began his release you sat up, pulling him from inside you and letting his cock flop onto his belly. "No!" He screamed. The cum that was supposed to be inside you now emptying out onto his stomach. Tears began to well in his eyes as his orgasm ebbed away quickly, leaving him messy, used, and unsatisfied. He looked at you, feeling a small pang of betrayal.

"Let this be a lesson to you," you told him, "the next time you want to do something fucked up, you ask me first. Understand?"

He wanted to say something but thought better of it. He nodded simply.

"Don't touch yourself until tomorrow. I'll let you cum then."

You released him and stood up.

"What's stopping me from taking what I want from you anyway?"

"I'll do this again."

He nodded in understanding.

"Come on, Baby," you held out your hand, "let's go take a shower."

Goddamn, as I was writing this the trigger warnings just kept piling up and piling up and it got darker and darker. This shit is extra horny lmao. I know I don't usually write as dark as this, and it took me ages to get this done but I just had this brain rotting idea and I had to get it out. I hope you enjoyed it! My commissions are open so if you want something similar but with a different member, let me know! I'm happy to keep up the darker themes.

[idyllic-affections]

Just found out people call the dottore clone you see on the boat "boattore" and now i can die in peace 😭. Would [Name] from your pantalone fanfic give some of the clones nicknames like that too?

dad!pantalone brainrot v (ft. il dottore).

summary. a general expansion on what il dottore's relationship with pantalone's child is like.

trigger & content warnings. dottore clones being... dottore clones. idk. they're insane. implied human experimentation.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff. il dottore (and his clones) & pantalone's child!reader. 0.5k words. they/them pronouns for reader. prev | next

author's thoughts. you know, every time i see anyone like anything from the dad!pantalone series, i'm like... wow??? i wrote that a while ago and people still find it enjoyable..... anyway getting an ask related to it made me all giddy!!!!!! so of course i responded asap. also me, i do that, i call that dottore clone boattore LMAO i also call him psi, but i like boattore better. it's silly and goofy. also god i welcome asks related to this series with open arms! i love talking about it. i think i should make a tag for it tbh... initially, i wasn't going to, because i didn't plan on expanding upon it, but it's still popular with tumblr users, so... yeah. i'll probably make a tag for it.

il dottore's relationship with [name] is... complicated. it varies from clone to clone.

first off, to answer your question—yes! [name] absolutely has their own silly nicknames for the clones, mainly because they take pleasure in knowing how much it annoys them. the clones can't really do much of anything about it, either. they all just have to tolerate [name]'s antics, because... well. pantalone handles all of the fatui's finances, you know? they can't exactly tell his kid to stop being an annoying little brat, lest they decide to complain to the regrator about the clones' behavior. they wouldn't. they're mature enough not to complain to their father about things like that (for the most part, anyway).

some of the clones find [name]'s nicknames kind of funny... but most of the dottores find it annoying. it sucks to be them, because [name] finds their annoyance very funny.

it's a trait they got from their father, really, because he also finds amusement in the doctor's agitation, but he's more partial to prime dottore's agitation. his kid finds it funnier to annoy the younger segments.

as i've mentioned before, dottore prime is one of [name]'s tutors. he's also the only one that has any kind of authority over them, but only within their tutoring hours. after that? they're free to agitate him all they want, however... they once discovered that some of their work had become inexplicably more difficult after they messed with him outside of tutoring hours. when they asked about it, dottore had told them that if they had the time to be a nuisance to him, then they must have had the time to study harder as well, surely? what else would they be doing with all of that freetime? surely being a sheer and utter brat to him didn't take up all of that freetime? he only had to do increase the rigor of their work one single time for them to get the message. they don't bother him anymore.

(if someone decides to address their sudden politeness towards prime dottore, as their father did once, they get very flustered and annoyed, quickly changing the conversation to another subject. they hate to admit that the doctor in his prime has ultimately won... at least they can freely bother his segments without suffering the same humiliating defeat.)

on the other end of the scale, there's webttore. webtoon dottore—i call him beta, personally. the goofy segment with no fashion sense. yeah, that one. he's always about three seconds away from tearing their throat out. their smug aura mocks him. now, funnily enough, if anyone else so much as indicates that they're having violent thoughts towards [name]? he doesn't take that well. he's sort of like a brother to them; he's someone they're always at odds with but he's also someone who would not hesitate to tear apart anyone who threatens [name]'s safety. he always needs new test subjects! he'd rather die than so much as imply that he has any kind of attachment to them, though. it's an interesting dynamic, to say the least.

oh, and might i add...

[name] wouldn't take primettore's decision to destroy all the other clones too well.

just saying.

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[heehappi]

Bite Me

❯ Pairings: Heeseung x fem! reader

❯ Genre: Cakeverse AU (please read A/N if you aren't familiar with this AU), smut, yandere.

❯ Word Count: 3.612

❯ Tags: unprotected sex, suggestive, yandere, praising, stalking, slight possessiveness, and manipulation.

❯ Narrative viewpoint: First-person point of view (for Heeseung) and Second-person point of view (for the sexual part)

❯ A/N: I'm sorry for any inaccuracy in grammar as well as writing style because English isn’t my first language.

❯ A brief of Cakeverse: 

“Cakeverse” is a spin-off of the “Omegaverse”. Similarly to its predecessor, characters in the Cakeverse are divided into three categories: Cakes, Forks, and normal people.

Cake: They are born with delicious fragrances, but they don’t know about it. The only way they find out about their status is through the coincidence of kissing a Fork.

Fork: When reaching a certain age, Forks will lose their sense of taste, only able to feel the taste of Cakes. Fork's basic instinct is eating Cakes, including bones, blood, and meat (NO, TRUST ME I NOT GONNA ADD THEM IN THIS FIC, they sound horrible to me)

The first time I met Y/N, through those innocent eyes, I'd already visualized her figure being pressed aggressively under my body. 

I couldn't help myself from the desire to kiss, bite, and lick every inch of her skin, much as one would suck the fruit filling on a strawberry dessert. I narrowed my eyes at Y/N in the hopes that I hadn’t scared her off. I could smell the fragrance of blood running underneath her skin from this far.  

“You must be sweet like that too, don't you think?”

At that moment, I realized that Y/N had awakened my taste buds. She is my Cake, and this is a fate that none of us can escape.

The first strategy in hunting is gently approaching the prey.

For several days, I observed the small bar where Y/N was singing. She initially went there with her buddies, but after a while, she went herself. She looked abstracted that day, seemed to think about someone, revealed a hint of sadness, and even though it only lasted for a moment, I still clenched my jaw in a fit of jealousy. She should have been on my bed, sobbing uncontrollably until her eyes turned red. I would have applied something like cream on her lower abdomen and licked it off slowly.

Y/N is the most expensive and high-grade Cake in the world, yet nobody can taste her sweetness.

“But that’s not bad at all. Thanks to that, I have more time to put you in my pocket.”

The second strategy in hunting is deceiving, pretending to be pure and innocent to gain the trust of prey.

Y/N was surrounded by a lot of low-level Forks who are so despicable. She only realized that she was a Cake when those bastards couldn’t control their fangs and the repulsive desire in their eyes. She was always sluggish, and it was too late to flee.

When those inferiors were getting closer to her, I kicked them hard from behind. Even though I wanted to delay this fight a little bit, I couldn't bear to witness their dirty hands ruin my dessert. 

I pulled Y/N in my arms tightly. Her eyes were wide with panic, her knuckles became white as she grasped my shoulder to calm her rushing heart.

The distance was so close. I hoped that she wasn’t aware of the sound I made as I gulped saliva. I made an effort to control myself, but her body and soul were so fragrant that they kept triggering my hunger.

A half-deaf Fork rushed over with an empty glass bottle in his hand. I turned around so that he could hit me. As I had hoped for, Y/N witnessed that scenario. She was terror-stricken, looking at me with unbelievable eyes.

My plan was half successful.

The worst disappointment was that Fork's dirty hands had touched my sweet little Cake. I broke his hands and watched him trembling uncontrollably on the ground like a loser. I covered Y/N’s eyes, my palms were wet with her tears. She touched my injured forehead out of worry. She probably didn’t know how fragile she looked at that time: a blush of shyness crept up her face, and her eyes were blurred with tears. She looked like a ripe cherry waiting to be picked. I wanted to bite her lips, but my vision was becoming blurry…

“It’s all right, this is just the beginning.”

After being discharged from the hospital, Y/N accompanied me home. I told her a lie about being homeless. My band and I used to have a good time, but I eventually fell on hard times. My innocent little Cake was always easy to be fooled. All I had to do was stare at her with my bambi eyes. She looked awkward but still soft-hearted at the end. I couldn’t look at her for too long because doing so would arouse my hunger.

The third strategy in hunting is penetrating her life step by step.

Because I had spent a few days with Y/N, I was somewhat aware of the reasons for her earlier unfocused attitude in the bar. She had previously lived with her colleagues, one girl, and one boy. Then there had been some conflicts, so she moved out. I was quite curious about the circumstances, so I looked through a photo album in Y/N's big suitcase. The relationship between her and her ex-roommates seemed so good. Actually, too nice that it was a bit abnormal. Y/N looked at the boy with a sparkle in her eyes.

Perhaps Y/N had been in love with him, but they had cut off contact due to some reason, so her mood was extremely terrible. But in my point of view, it was fate. That’s why I was here, in her house.

I started to live with Y/N. Every morning, I woke up and waited for her to make breakfast for me. Although I had lost my sense of taste, I could feel a little craving when glancing at Y/N, then tried to swallow food. She didn’t know much about cooking, perhaps just begun to learn so she could take care of me. Like a fledgling waiting to be fed, I waited for her to finish her work and go back home every day.

Y/N uncarefully cut her hands while slicing meat. I put her finger in my mouth, her blood tasted sweet, like syrup. I innocently glanced at Y/N. She assumed I was worried about her. She moved her hand backward and comforted me by saying that it didn’t hurt.

When we went to the supermarket, I liked to buy things in pairs such as house slippers, toothbrushes, cups, and even bowls. Y/N clenched her fists and hit my chest as she stared at the long receipt. The last time she had such an upset expression was when I had eaten all the flavors of ice cream in her refrigerator. I liked to tease her and relished her kitten-like anger. I assured her that I would pay her money every month.

I developed a close bond with Y/N that was apart from our Fork-Cake connection. She progressively became open to sharing some stories of her life, how she had experienced loss, how her confidence had faded away, and how her unrequited love had not been returned. I coaxed her by complimenting her unconditionally every time she writes songs for me.

I made up some fairy stories and told Y/N before bedtime every night. She had worked during the day, then she quit her job at the bar to take care of me. People who were too lonely usually don’t have a peaceful night, and my Y/N consistently had trouble sleeping. Every time I completed a fairy tale, she would beg me for more. But I always said that the best would be reserved for later. I was aware that she didn't particularly want to hear those stories. 

Y/N simply did not want to sleep alone.

The fourth strategy in hunting is attacking and grabbing the chance to swallow prey.

When I thought the time was ripe, I feigned to be ill. A slight concussion, according to the doctor, led to vomiting and an appetite loss. Thanks to that dirty Fork with his glass bottle.

I didn’t eat anything. Y/N tried to come up with new foods for me to eat more. She attempted to study a new recipe and used her meager monthly wage to buy cooking supplies.

No more fairy tales at night. I wrapped myself in the blanket and pretended to be extremely exhausted. In spite of the fact that I didn’t eat much during that month and lost a lot of weight, my desire for Y/N outweighed my bodily hunger.

Y/N made a bowl of egg soup, which she had just learned when getting home from work. She ruined numerous eggs before encouraging me to eat by patting my back, like coaxing a child.

- Hee, please eat something.

I didn't take her spoon. Instead, I pulled her closer and gave her my passionate-bambi gaze until she blushed. My little sweet Cake has innocent eyes but at that moment, I just wanted to see them in tears, seeing that she couldn’t help but wrap her legs around my waist. I wanted to devour her.

I was dying of hunger.

I tentatively pressed my lips on hers. Y/N didn’t shy away, then I knew I could start tasting my Cake.

I had waited far too long for this day. When I caught her on the first day, my heart raced faster uncontrollably. My palm was so cold. When I touched her, she trembled slightly like a young bird that had just been wet, and I was her only wind-avoiding nest.

My lips parted from hers. I could hear the sound of her heavy breath, the sound of her blood streaming rapidly. I kissed her forehead softly. That was my devotion to the prey. Those eyes came next. Her eyelashes were shaking. Y/N's eyelids were so thin that I could see the tiny blood vessels beating slightly beneath them. She was too white. Even when Y/N wasn’t shy, her nose tip and eye corners remained rosy.

I believed that a high-grade Cake had to have a gorgeous outlook. It couldn't just be a smooth cream surface; it also needed some decorative strawberries. And Y/N had all of those characteristics. 

Heeseung guided you to sit on his lap, locking your arms around his neck. His hands on your hips eagerly pushed your heat down against his erection, hoping that you would notice his half-hard boner pressing your core. His hands found the hem of your nightgown and slowly took it off. You were too nervous to open your eyes. Heeseung lifted your head by your chin and mildly bit your cheek. He said that it was fluffy like soufflé.

- Naughty girl with no bra huh?

His hands squeezed your boobs, leaving kisses alongside your jaw. He kissed down your neck to your collarbone, pinching and rolling his thumb over your hardened nipple. He took one boob in his hand, rubbing it. His tongue twirled around the bud before sucking your nipple while his other hand rubbed your thigh, slowly reaching your intimate area. 

You moaned like a mess, feeling the sensation build up inside your stomach.

- So fucking cute, moaning like this just because I suck your boobs.

Heeseung blew hot breath on your tits after abusing them. He kissed the area of the underboob, leaving strings of his saliva all over your flesh. Your tits were shiny like being sprinkled with sour cherry Brandy wine. You ran your hands through his hair as he pressed his head more on your chest, inhaling the smell of shower gel that he bought for you. His hand abandoned your ass and started running his thumb around your nipple.

- T..that f..feels good, Hee. 

He smiled.

- Yeah? If you consent to me, I can make you feel even better.

Heeseung looked up and saw the unshed tears glistening in the corners of your eyes. He squeezed your waist to stop your non-stop trembling body. 

- Baby, it will be ok...

- I-I allow you…

Heeseung couldn’t help but grinded his hard cock against your core. He reassured you as he pulled you into a slow kiss, and let you lay down in bed. Your belly must be the most delicate area since there are hundreds of butterflies fluttering inside. Once his lips pressed on it, they seemed to fly out. Heeseung gripped your waist as his teeth pulled your underwear down.

He suddenly remembered the milk pudding he had eaten in childhood. When unwrapping the plastic package, the soft pudding exposed to the air, even bounced up to the amplitude of movement, left memorable ripples. He squeezed your butt cheek and watched the tiny moan coming out of your lips. 

- I'll be gentle. Once you feel uncomfortable, I will stop immediately. 

His fingers traced over your clit, middle and index fingers spreading your pussy lips apart. Heeseung pushed two fingers into you slowly and scissored them to stretch you out. You started clenching around his fingers. It drove him mad with lust when feeling your velvet walls tighten. He had no intention of stopping, added a third finger, and began moving faster, his thumb reaching up to your clit, not until you were begging him.

- P-please, Hee. Please I want more….

Heeseung thought it was really cute whenever he teased you. Maybe he would edge you until you were sobbing and then make you get off with your own fingers. But not now, not this damn moment. 

The sound of him pulling down the zipper of his jeans was loud enough that sent a shiver down your spine. It was nothing, though, to compare with the groan he made as he stroked his cock outside his boxer. You held your breath as you strained to hear him. Heeseung pulled his cock out of his confinement, his cock throbbing against his stomach. He wrapped his fingers around his erection, spreading beads of precum on himself. 

- Wanna feel it? 

He guides your hand down to touch it. You grabbed a hold of his dick, stroking slightly. Only God knew how desperate he was to see this scene. 

- Do you want me to use a condom or not? 

You bit your lip and debated for a minute whether to answer truthfully.

- No, I want to feel you.

- Shit Y/N, you have no idea how much I want to bury my cock inside you, stretch every single inch of you until you writhe under me, beg me to stop.

It was your turn to breathe out weakly, back arching off the bed to reach his dick, wondering if he could feel how wet he was making you.

- I want that as much as you do, Hee.

You lifted your gaze to meet his. His eyes were dark and glazed over with both lust and frustration. Heeseung smirked and raised an eyebrow upward as he guided your legs wrapping around him, heels digging into his lower back to facilitate his penetration. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down over your sopping fold.

- Let’s carve the safe word in your head baby. Chocolate.

Chocolate because there is no more Vanilla.

You nodded, and closed your eyes, waiting for the delicious stretch of his dick pushing into you. Heeseung dragged his cock along your fold and lubricated it with your wetness and his precum before slowly plugging his length down your hole until he bottomed up, making the two of you sigh in relief. A deep groan escaped his lips as he adjusts to the feeling of your hot, wet cunt around him. 

- Fuck, baby. Like fucking made for me.

You gasped and tossed your head back, your hand covered your mouth and your eyes rolled back. Heeseung left sloppy wet kisses on your neck to ease your pain. It took a while for you to adjust his big size. You guys stayed in the position, just feeling each other.

- Hee, you can move now.

He nodded and started to fuck you slowly, before eventually hitting your walls at a perfect angle with an unforgiving pace that has you seeing stars. Your hands ran over his torso, scratching his back deliciously that got him hissed, obviously leaving marks on it. Your back arched high from the mattress, your voice reached that high pitched while Heeseung kept thrusting into you constantly. Your room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Heeseung moved his hand to your belly, feeling the small bulge he made every time his dick was buried inside you. The stimulation was becoming too much, something in your stomach slowly tightening. 

- Heeseung!

His name ripped from your throat when he led one hand down to roll your clit in circular figures.

- I.. I’m about to… to cum.

He sped up and kissed your cheek. 

- Go ahead babe, cum for me. 

You came with a string of moan mess, painting his length with your juice, some getting on his base, some dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. Heeseung was in awe as he watched milky white rings around his cock. He stopped for a second for you to catch your breath.

- Will you cum in me too?

Heeseung cussed under his breath. The way you sounded so innocent while spilling those lascivious words. He panted against your lips.

- You're gonna kill me Y/N. You’re so hot.

- Say it to yourself.

You kiss him one more time before bucking your hip upwards. He chuckled at your flirtatiousness. 

- Yea- gonna put our kids in you. 

Heeseung sank further, cockhead burying itself deep into your cunt with every snap of his hips. He grabbed your jaw to force your gaze onto him.

- You take me so well, so fucking tight for me. Look at my eyes when taking my fat cock, love.

Heeseung angled his hips higher so his tip aggressively reached the right spot that made you see stars. He thrusted hard for the last time before he spurted his white and warm load of seeds inside you. His head falls forward and he takes the opportunity to plant sweet kisses all over your face and cheek. He leaned into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

And at that fucking moment, Heeseung started to lose control over his desire of eating you, like a Fork want to devour his Cake. Finally, his sharp fang coming out wanted to pierce through your seductive neck.

Suddenly, a dagger was placed against his chest. Heeseung gave you a shocked expression. Both of you had not yet fully recovered from the intense orgasm. Your eyes were crimson in the corners, fierce yet also attractive. You spoke to him in a shaky voice that was full of hatred.

- You are a Fork too. You wanted to eat me.

This statement wasn’t a question. You indulged him repeatedly despite the fact that you were quite certain of his motivations and had known it for a very long time.

“No wonder you are my little Cake, Y/N”

Heeseung grinned at you and kissed your hair and eyelashes gently. He grabbed your hand and positioned it an inch to the left, where his heart was there.

- Here, love. Stab here to kill me. Kill me and no one will tell fairy tales to you tomorrow night.

The last step in hunting is a retreat for a longer-lasting relationship with prey.

Y/N's dagger fell to the bed. She covered his eyes and whimpered. In fact, Y/N has been in love with me for a very long time. When I gradually entered her life, she became accustomed to seeing the lights in the house while coming back from work, and paying for the long receipt in the supermarket's checkout,...  In her perception, her house now became warm with a full smell of cooked food, rather than an empty room and midnight takeout.

I replaced the photos of Y/N and her ex-roommate with our photos. 

Y/N started composing songs with happy tunes. When she played piano, they sounded like soft lullabies. I learned those tunes by heart, humming them while I brushed my teeth next to her in the morning. Y/N turned her head excitedly and asked me how I remembered it with a mouth full of toothpaste foam. I said that I could recall all the songs written by her. 

Y/N also no longer took sleep pills. She hid a variety of psychiatric medications under the bed, including red and white tablets that I have no idea what they taste like but must not be delicious. If I had a chance, I would have surreptitiously replaced them with colorful candies. Y/N looked forward to my stories every night because I would lean close to her and pat her back. As long as I was beside her, Y/N could sleep peacefully.

Y/N couldn’t accept my leaving. She would gladly offer me her heart if I asked to devour her. There was a lack of love and safety in her. People were a little friendly to Y/N, she was willing to offer them all of her love and kindness.

Y/N held my face and kissed my lips while pleading with me not to leave her. She was still in tears. Y/N twisted around, shoved me down, and raised her white wrists to my mouth.

- Lee Heeseung, bite me. You can devour me, just please don't go. Don't leave me.

My plan of letting my Cake bring herself to me was achieved. I bit her collarbone and tasted the bleeding skin where my teeth had left their marks before biting somewhere else. My tongue stirred in her mouth, playing with her tongue…

Little tooth marks were highlighted on her white boobs, yet Y/N still insisted on hugging me.

I thought that I would devour Y/N because she was really seductive that challenged my ultimate limit time after time.

But I wouldn't have survived if I had eaten Y/N. We had managed to achieve a symbiotic connection in some way.

Y/N had already fallen asleep. She continued to sob in her dream while encircling my neck with her arms. That pose was very uncomfortable to sleep in. I took her arm, embraced her in my arms, and kissed her forehead.

Good night.

My little Cake.

I will be very thankful to read your feedback so plz don't hesitate to leave it in comment or in anonymous box keke

[queermania]

How do tags work? I'm newish to Tumblr and I don't really get the tags. Do I need to tag everything?

hello and welcome! tags serve four major purposes:

to let other people find your content: this is only applicable if you are the creator of the post, not if you reblog it. for example: if you make a post about dean you might want to add the tags "dean winchester" and "supernatural" or even "spn" so that other people who are interested in content about dean can see the post when they're searching for content on tumblr (if you want to find content and you're using desktop, you can search tumblr.com/tagged/supernatural [or whatever it is you're looking for] and you'll be able to see original posts that people tagged as "supernatural." if you're on mobile, frog speed, my friend.) also, friendly reminder not to over-tag things. if you tag a post that is just about dean with "sam winchester" "castiel" "john winchester" etc people are more likely to block you. spam tagging is really annoying.

organization on your own blog: adding tags to your posts lets you find them on your own blog later (again, this is really only useful on desktop, not mobile) and this goes for original posts and reblogged posts. for example: you may have noticed that i tag all of my posts about dean with "dw." that's the organizational tag i use for my own blog. i also have tags that probably don't mean anything to anyone else but that help me to organize certain ~genres of posts on my blog (like "hashtag family"). if you want to search your own blog or someone else's for all of the posts you/they have in a specific tag you can do that on desktop by going to blog.tumblr.com/tagged/tag. so for example if you wanted to search my blog for the dean content you would go to queermania.tumblr.com/tagged/dw

giving other people the ability to block/filter content: this is relevant for both original posts and reblogged posts. for example: someone might have followed you for doctor who content but they are not interested in seeing supernatural content. you tagging your supernatural posts with a "supernatural" tag lets them filter or blacklist it so they don't have to see it. this is also relevant for certain types of content like nsfw, body horror, etc. you may see tags like "tw body horror" or "body horror tw" or "body horror cw" or even "body horror for ts" (that one's an old relic from a time long ago when we had to use an extension called tumblr savior to filter content). content/trigger warnings are subjective. not everybody uses them. not everybody is willing to use them. it's not uncommon to ask people (politely!) to tag for something that might be upsetting to you, with the caveat that they might say no and then it's up to you to decide if you want to continue following them or not. (for example if you asked me to tag for alcohol, i would politely decline, simply because i do not think i would realistically remember to do it and i don't want to promise something i can't deliver and risk harming you.)

commentary that doesn't need to be a part of the post: you may have noticed that a lot of us put our thoughts on any given post in the tags. this is a way to leave commentary without muddying up the post. not all thoughts need to be on the post permanently. in fact, most don't haha. sometimes if you leave commentary in the tags, someone will copy and paste or screenshot them into the body of the post because they think your thoughts deserved permanent status and that other people should see them too. we like to call this getting peer reviewed because we are nothing if not a website full of nerds.

so those are the ways we use tags on this website. you can choose not to use tags at all, use them religiously, or use them only when you want. it's really up to you. you create your own experience. however, if you do opt out of tagging anything at all, people might be less likely to interact with you because it makes it harder for them to curate their own experience. but again, it's really up to you!

[dangerpronebuddie]

Seven Sentences Sunday!!

Tagged by @wikiangela @daffi-990 @thekristen999 @bidisasterbuckdiaz all of whom wrote BRILLIANT stuff you should definitely check out!! 💚🩵

What a week! I'm still not over the episode and I'm still exhausted from staying up all night to watch it (I will not be doing that again (probably)). Since I didn't finish Welcome Home Cheater before the episode aired, I was going to use the events in the episode for an introspection/ spec fic. But, due to reasons, I won't be completing it at all.

Instead, I have started a new WIP! Brought to me by @lover-of-mine and our belief that Eddie had his oh moment during the shooting. I had the idea that if he doesn't remember, some event could trigger the memory. Long story short, they respond to a shooting and Buck pulls Eddie to safety:

He suddenly remembers reaching across the pavement, seeing Buck crawling beneath the truck, and thinking: I love him. I'm going to die here, and I love him. Please don't take him too, I love him. "Eddie," Buck says in a shaky voice, squeezing his waist where his hands have settled. Eddie snaps out of whatever bizarre daze he was stuck in and looks up at Buck as his back hits the side of the engine. Oh. I love him.

Absolutely no pressure tagging: @13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @tizniz @actuallyitsellie @fortheloveofbuddie @exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @kitteneddiediaz @rainbow-nerdss @steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann @wildlife4life @theotherbuckley @daniwib and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷

[enstarriedownbad]

Mayoi Ayase x F!reader

‼️Minors don't interact

Genre: smut

Tags: switch!Mayoi, breeding, established relationship, fluff at the start

Plot: After passing by a couple of young parents at the mall and helping a lost child, you and your boyfriend Mayoi have a baby fever. Maybe he could try putting one in you?

Words: 2,029

Day 19 OF Enstars x Reader NSFW month - Mayoi Ayase

By clicking on "show more," you acknowledge that you are 18+ and consent to read this fiction.

11 am. On a busy Saturday.

You are at the mall with Mayoi to try some sweets in a new cake shop. Apparently, Niki and Hiiro already went there and recommended it to him. It's only natural that you two go there together, be it because of Mayoi's social battery being low or just because he wanted you to tag along. In other words, this is a date.

Once you have arrived in front of the store, you get a table for two and sit on one of the chairs. You take a look at the menu. Everything looks so appetizing.

"Mhh, I don't know what to order..." you say out loud. "Have you already chosen, Mayoi?"

...

No reply. You lay your eyes off of the menu to look at your boyfriend. He looks lost in thoughts, staring at something. You turn around to face what is at the end of his gaze: a couple of young parents with their two children. By now, you know that Mayoi likes kids. He loves being a brotherly figure to them. Even though Mayoi barely mentions his family to you, you don't recall him having a little brother or sister.

"Are you envious of this family?~" you ask him kindly, thinking he's wishing he had a sibling.

"Huh? Ah, not really..." he replies in a tone that makes you thing he wants something else.

"Hmm... Anyways, have you chosen what to order?" you ask.

"Ah, sorry Y/N, I was deep in thoughts. Let me see..." he replies. "I think I'll go with the parfait."

"And I'll take a cheesecake!", you reply joyfully.

After ordering, your desserts are brought on your table. Mayoi looks all shy after interacting with the waitress. You can't help but want to tease him a bit.

You wait for him to dip his spoon again in his dessert.

"Could I try your dessert?" you ask your boyfriend.

"S-sure!"

"Aaaa" you let out as you open your mouth, waiting for him to feed you.

Without him saying a word, you can tell he's probably thinking 'Is this real? 'I'm so sinful for having weird thoughts!' 'She must be hum...I don't know?!' Or something like this. So you don't mind re-doing it for him to get it.

"Aaaa"

Reluctantly but excitedly, Mayoi puts the spoon in your mouth. His dessert tastes so good. You can't help but let out a small happy noise. You back up from the cutlery and smile at him. Even though he's hiding his face, you can tell he's blushing.

After leaving the store, you hear a small voice calling out for you.

"Mommy?!", a small child cries while holding onto your skirt. "Mommy??"

You and Mayoi turn around. Looks like this kid is lost and mistook you for his mom. You look at your man in surprise.

"Maybe we should help this little one..." he advices. "Hello there... What's your name?" he asks the boy gently.

Mayoi proceeds to calm the child down. As expected, he's good with kids. You look at him acting all kind and gentle. It triggers something within you, but you can't put a word on it. Nonetheless, you want to help as well.

"We'll help you find your mommy, don't worry!" you tell the child as you take his hand in yours.

You first try to wait for the mother where you are. After all, when a child is lost, their parents always tell them to stay where they are so that they can come find them. As you three are waiting nearby the shop you just ate at, you notice Mayoi is blushing even harder than usual.

"W-we kinda look like a family right now..." he softly whispers in your ear.

Oh. True. So you would be the mom, and Mayoi the dad. Parents, huh... You blush at his reply.

No mother in sight.

The three of you then try to get to the mall's security office, but the passageway is too crowded to move safely with a small child with you. Mayoi suddenly takes the little one on his shoulders and finds a short-cut. You follow him. The view you have before your eyes is so sweet. He's definitely looking more manly under this angle. You find a liking to this side of him.

"Honey?! Where were you? I was so scared..." a woman says in the distance.

The mother then thanked you both and left the mall with a smiling child.

On your way home, Mayoi holds your hand tight. The warmth of his hand makes you feel safe. The two of you have the same thoughts: you'd love to see each other as parents.

"D-Do you want kids, Y/N?" your boyfriend asks, expecting a negative answer.

"I'm not against the idea if it's with you..." you mutter.

Mayoi stops walking for a second, surprised by your answer.

"H-huh? I probably misheard... You deserve better than me as the father of your children... After all, I'm worth---"

"Because you know someone who would treat me better than you?" you cut him off. "Who else would clear their busy schedules to see me everyday? Who else would gift me cute stuff? Who else would love me more than you?"

He wants to reply, but he doesn't manage to.

"Besides, YOU are the one I love Mayoi, not anyone else, you," you reply in a semi-angry tone, a bit frustrated that your boyfriend thinks he doesn't deserve you. "So back to your question, yes I'd like to have kids with you!".

"You would bare my kids...?"

It's only after he finishes his sentence that you realize you've just shouted out loud that you want his kids. Plus, the way he worded it sounds like this isn't the first time he's been thinking about this. The both of you are now a blushing mess. His hand feels even hotter.

By chance, you finally reach your home. The two of you stop at your front door.

"Then, I'll see you soon, Y/N?" he says as he fidgets with his fingers, obviously wanting to stay by your side. He looks like he's desperate to continue the conversation or something else inside...

"Come on, stay for a while..." you reply.

"A-am I allowed to??" he asks, even though he's been there a hundred times already. Plus, it's not the moment right now.

You kiss him as an answer.

"You want to put your kids with me but won't get inside the house?" you ask, all flirtatious.

Suddenly, the tension rises even more. After an intense eye contact, the two of you walk toward your bedroom while kissing and removing each other's clothes on the way there like animals in heat. Once you reach the room, you are already fully undressed.

Mayoi sits on your bed. You sit on his lap, facing him. The two of you start making out on the spot. Your tongues intertwine, not leaving room for anything else, even for oxygen. All you can feel right now is the sweet taste in your mouth as well as Mayoi's dick hardening against your abdomen. The passion of the kiss makes you fall even harder for each other. You two can only think about each other's bodies. The kiss is so exquisite that tears are forming down Mayoi's eyes. Too bad you have to back up to get some air.

As both of you are practically panting, you slightly push down your lover's shoulders so that he lays down on your mattress. You take the time to admire his body. It's not the first time you've seen him naked, but now that you know that this body of his can and will impregnate you, you look at him in a different light. Mayoi's scanning is quite persistent, too. You caress his abs and thighs before digging in and putting his cock in your mouth. As your mouth licks all around his tip and length, you can hear his moans resonating in the room. His dick feels thicker now. He's definitely hard enough to get to the main part.

"Hm~... Y/N..."

You suddenly stop the blow job. Surely you don't want any drop to go to waste.

You get back on your knees and align yourself on top his cock. Mayoi's cock twitches at the contact of your two genitals. You slowly insert his dick inside of you. Your walls spread open to take him in. The thickness of his length hurts a bit. You stop for a second.

"Are you okay? I-it doesn't hurt, does it?" Mayoi asks, concerned.

"N-no, it's okay," you reply as your body adapts to your lover's.

Soon enough, you continue going down, fitting more of him inside of you, until you finally reach his thighs. Mayoi's hand is resting on your thigh while yours is resting on his torso. You begin moving a bit, going up and down repeatedly. What was slow at first gradually became faster. Mayoi joins in, too, and starts pushing his hips forward to thrust a bit more into you. It all feels so romantic.

"Aah Y/N...," Mayoi moans.

"Mayoi~..."

You fasten your pace and begin focusing on where you two are linked. Suddenly, Mayoi uses his free hand to grab one of your boobs and squeezes it.

"Ah~!" you let out.

You feel your climax is approaching, so his must be even closer because of your blow job.

"...Y/N... Do you really want to be pregnant from me?" he asks while panting.

"Yes~"

"T- then together..."

After a few more thrusts, you slam your thighs against his one last time before locking his dick deep inside of you.

"Ah... Carry my kids..!" Mayoi moans while closing his eyes from the pleasure.

"I-I'll bare your kids," you moan while having an orgasm alongside him.

You feel his semen filling you, going up your womb, trying to reach your deepest parts. Mayoi is pressing hard on both of your thighs, trying to make sure that he's pressing himself against your cervix while shooting more inside of you. He definitely wants to impregnate you.

The first drops of his cum leave your body because of the position. Mayoi instantly notices and frowns.

"L-let's try again," he says.

Suddenly, Mayoi lifts you up as if you weighted the same as a feather. In the process, his dick leaves your cunt. But only a few seconds later, you find yourself lying down, head on the pillow, spooned by Mayoi. This position is definitely one of those that help to conceive. He doesn't waste any time and penetrates you from behind. Both of his hands are busy with your chest, and his thighs are pressing against yours. Mayoi really switched the roles. And there is no way you wouldn't get pregnant from this position. Nonetheless, Mayoi thrusts harder, yet still romantically. Because the positon, ou pretty much can't do anything other than taking what he gives. And he's pretty good at it. All of his thrusts are deep enough to reach your end every tim he moves. Adding that to the naughty sound that is made when he slams his thighs into yours, it's only natural that you reach your climax again.

You turn your face around with your tongue out, begging for a kiss. Your lover joins in, mixing your two salivas again. His expression is so... manly and different than usual, minus the fact that you got him blushing again. You love this side of him. You only want him to show that face to you. But you love all of Mayoi's aspects. His laugh, his smiles, his everything. You're very much in love. Wet sounds, moanings, Mayoi's facial expression. You can't hold it anymore. Your boyfriend secures you as close as possible before cumming inside of you again.

"Mayoi~"

"Y/N~..."

Your stomach definitely gets bigger from all the cum he's pumping inside of you. You stay in the position for a moment.

Ah? You suddenly get turned around again in another position that helps to get pregnant. Mayoi definitely saw into those. It looks like he won't be done with you until he shoots blanks.

Sorry I'm late jsjdbej

No proofread, eyes burning (send help)

[sarandipitywrites]

Writeblr Intro

(i should probably make one of these, shouldn't i?)

about me:

hi! i'm saran (any pronouns). i spend 99% of my free time writing, thinking about writing, making playlists for my writing, rotating my other obsessions in my head (currently jak & daxter; voiceplay; and motionless in white), and sometimes spewing those on my blog as well. this is my primary blog (i can barely keep up with this one, so a sideblog is not likely in the near future), so be aware that you'll see everything that spills out of my head/crosses my blog that i feel like sharing. if you're just here for the writing, that's cool, too! all of my original writing is tagged #my writing, and all longform works and snippets are tagged with their titles. i'm open to tag games, asks, and dms for anything and everything, even if you just need to talk 💜

about the writing:

i both read and write most genres, but fantasy and speculative fiction are my favorite (with a heavy dose of monsters and the paranormal, whether the genre otherwise calls for it or not). i write both original fiction and fanfiction. my main characters tend to be queer, neurodiverse, disabled, or all of the above. i write with an adult audience in mind (my writing has a tendency to delve into heavy topics, including mental health issues and societal commentary, and several of my stories contain graphic violence), so while minors are welcome to follow, i would encourage you to self-curate your experience. i try to tag anything potentially triggering, but i am human and sometimes miss things; if you notice anything that you think needs a tag, please do let me know!

general taglist (ask to be added or removed): @innocentlymacabre

find all the links and tags for my work under the cut:

the WIPs:

The Art of Empty Space (wip intro, tag)

Lienzo's search for a cure for his parent's condition entangles him in a years-old curse with an arcane beast at its heart. As he works to break the curse and free the city of Rookport, he finds an unexpected ally in the beast — and, perhaps, something more. (subversive fairytale; paranormal romance; original fiction)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @notwritinganyflufftoday

Dead Roots, Dark Water (wip intro, tag)

After two years of genetic experiments at the hands of Haven City's Minister of Science leave him almost unrecognizable, Jak isn't as eager to go home as Daxter would have hoped. Daxter's rescue mission becomes a quest to undo the damage the dark eco experiments inflicted upon Jak's body and psyche — and the only one who can help them is Haven's most beloved public figure, who also happens to be Minister Acheron's twin sister. (adventure; dark fantasy; dystopian; fanfiction - Jak & Daxter)

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @sam-glade, @televisionjester, @surroundedbypearls

the Short Stories:

A Haunted Home

A haunted house gets its latest in a long string of owners. Is it possible to have a QPR with a house? You're about to find out. cw: implied past domestic abuse

Bodies

The Belltown Butcher takes a trophy from each of their victims. Ness survived, but not before the Butcher took their prize. cw: referenced kidnapping, trauma, eye trauma

Loreley

A cartographical ship picks up a distress signal in the unexplored Groombridge 1618 system. Instead of the lost Kasandra, they find a seemingly-habitable planet.

I Am Alive

A group of friends breaks into the local haunted house for an All Hallow's Eve séance. It doesn't go as planned.

[fandomwave]

"No Guys I Swear You Have To Go Out Of Your Way To Find It!" And why I don't love this take

This is about the Ha Ha funny Coffin Game which includes but isn't limited to topics of: Cannibalism, Murder, and the core topic of this little rant, Incest.

feel totally free to skip this if that's a hard pass from you! No shame in knowing what you're about including things you'd rather not engage with.

"I know what I'm about"

Good! So this entire little rant? Vent? Observation? Comes from the recent uptick I've seen of posts in the Tcoaal tag where people come in to defend the game with more or less this argument:

"No no guys the incest is really easy to avoid. You have to go out of your way to find it. The game even WARNS you that this is a bad route. Its nowhere in any part of the game beyond this. Honestly it's just not there actually"

And I get the want to defend the game as being more than 'The funny Incest Game'. I agree that The Coffin Of Andy and Leyley is WAY MORE than just the funny incest game. To reduce the game down to that would be a disservice to the writing that went into this game. Andrew and Ashley deserve way more and Numlie themselves deserves better credit than that.

h o w e v e r

However, I think it's also doing more harm than good to try and sweep their dynamic under the rug as something that is 'easily avoidable' and 'totally optional' I hate to break the news but Andrew's romantic inclinations towards Ashley are pretty obvious in Chapter 1. They certainly aren't as obvious as they are in Chapter 2, I'll give everyone that. But they are there, and to act like they aren't... Not to mention the defense EVERYONE gives so readily is that 'The Game Warns You This Is A Bad Thing To Do' is a lot more complicated than it might appear on first blush. First and foremost the 'narrator' is the one to say: "Somehow it seems like a highly questionable idea to take this route"

which imho is a far cry from "This is the bad end" "This has incest" "you are probably a bad person for taking this ending" that some seem to argue is the 'warning' you get. Secondly we should remember it isn't 'you' the narrator is talking to here. Effectively it's still Ashley first and foremost. When Ashley responds 'I know what I'm about' that is also the game showing us that Ashley knows what this means and still wants it.

Enthusiastic consent if you will

So what's the point to this little post eh?

Well I think it's doing a little more harm than good to both the story but also anyone interested in checking the game out who might actually be genuinely triggered by such topics. Tcoaal has the siblings romantic inclinations laced into the story from point A to B. It's impossible to avoid actually. You can go the entire game ignoring any acts of kindness towards Andrew as Ashley or Ashley as Andrew, and you'll always get the scenes of Andrew playing with Ashley's hair. You will always get the text informing the player that Andrew fakes panic attacks to share a bed with Ashley. You will always get the CG of Andrew's hand in Ashley's belt loops. You will always hear the voicemail 'You think you're better than me because you can fuck him and I can't' from Ashley concerning Andrew. You will always get the hints from Mrs Graves that she knows they are too close but did nothing to curb that behavior.

It is wholly unavoidable no matter what route you take. Burial, Decay, Questionable or not.

I think to argue that it's just a silly little ending you can get does a disservice to people who might genuinely be upset by that, and I think more than anything a game that is at the very least talking about incest rather brazenly deserves the warnings it earns!

I love this game to bits, anyone who's been within ear shot of me has had to deal with me talking their fucking ear off about the Sibling Abuse Simulator. I've gone on in excruciating detail how I think Tcoaal's writing has been done dirty by saying that Andrew and Ashley's romance is just a 'ha ha shock ending', comparing it to the siblings ending in something like Corpse Party (a game where the incest ending is 100% totally avoidable, and the story has exactly nothing to do with incest as a topic, and is only brought up if you trigger that ending. One where I agree with the argument that it's just there for shock value)

Anyways I see where people are coming from, I can understand the want to defend the game as more than the sum of it's parts and I agree that it does suck that this seems to be the thing everyone is hyper-focusing on in terms of it's breach of containment. I get it man, I really do. It deserves so much better than being reduced down the way it has by the greater internet.

But to say it's avoidable.. I dunno it's like taking the dragons out of Game of Thrones. The story as a whole about so much more than the dragons.. However you'd have a fundamentally different story if they weren't there, wouldn't you?

[zoobus]

I apologize in advance because I'm taking a tag way too seriously and this isn't even YA novel navalgazing, this is literally about a series written for 3rd graders.

I'm realizing "fucked up that the moral of this story was" is a minor trigger for me. It drives me insane in a way obviously unequal to whatever the original context is. But this is my blog so.

The American Girl series was not a moral-driven set of stories! They weren't Animorphs or anything but they were absolutely a kid's introduction to the intrinsic unfairness of life and a solid chunk of the stories ended with the """"moral"""" of the main character left to uncomfortably ponder why something so clearly not right could be allowed to continue before they clunkily skipped to the next story like the previous didn't happen.

I used to own several sets and I skimmed through a few before selling them some years back. The sudden harsh reality of whatever historical ills going on were part of the appeal! It was fucked up and scary and that's why they were good (to an elementary schooler to be clear, these aren't good books)

Like the "moral" of Nellie's story was that it was fucked up to be a child factory worker. It was fucked up that her response to "oh your hair is so pretty, you should grow it longer" was to recount the time she witnessed one of her elementary age coworker get scalped by one of the child labor machines. It was fucked up that she's 8 with PTSD. Of course Nellie got a happy end but like... abused little puppies getting cleaned up and spoiled is a popular media trope. It's not a lesson. Even though it works out for her, you're still left with the knowledge that the girl who's hair was ripped off her skull and untold number of fingerless kids were not adopted by Samantha's rich grandpa.

I'm rarely comfortable saying there's one specific point that a story is objectively going for and you're a fool if you don't see it, but I do think the American Girl series was intentional in showcasing period-specific suffering might have looked like in a way a little kid could conceptualize. And it worked! For example:

Molly, the WW2 American Girl (AG). Her family takes in a little Bri'ish girl and Molly's soooo excited wow imagine having a fancy English girl in your own house. She is irritated when the 9yo lass is very quiet and not into being her doll. After weeks of molly snipping at her, British girl goes off like sorry I'm not fucking prancing around you dumb bitch but I'm not here as a foreign exchange student, I'm here because my house got bombed and my friends and family are probably fucking dead

Samantha, the Victorian AG. We already know Nellie who, as explained before, had a very different life than the wealthy Samantha. But Samantha also had a black nanny she adored up until she disappears without warning. After a lot of snooping, she uncovers that nanny had a baby! So of course she sneaks out at night to find the little man for herself🤫

Her mischievous giggling starts to get more nervous as she gets closer to nanny's address. It's getting dirtier and shittier and there's only black people around and they're openly gawking but not approaching. People live here? Nanny lives here? With a baby? She eventually finds her and the baby who is cute but Samantha is left at the end like. Hm. So. I guess my life is not universal? Much to think about. There's no happy resolution to this. Nanny never returns, segregation continues.

Last one, Addy, the escaped slave (apparently a controversial opinion, but I liked Addy). The other stories take a bit to get to wham aspect, but with her? Right from the start we have Overseer catch Addy slacking while picking cotton. She's just not debugging fast enough. This grown adult man, so infuriated an eight year old child isn't picking cotton tobacco fast enough, forces her to eat one of the fat, green worms she missed. They describe Addy holding back tears, the worm bursting in her mouth, the bitter taste, the humiliation. I feel like this was the first time I like...*got* slavery. You learn about it in school, sure, but owning people, beating people, it sounded bad but unconnected to anything I knew. Like maybe it's because at the time of reading, I too was a daydreamy 8yo black girl, making it hit a little too close. How could anyone do that and feel justified? Or feel nothing at all? An adult made a little kid eat a bug and it didn't hurt his conscious? This guy probably goes to church and doesn't even remember this. He doesn't think he needs forgiveness. This is nothing to him. This is normal. He died thinking he did nothing wrong, probably. Those were my thoughts then. Very good.

These aren't morals. Of course you shouldn't expect a refugee to perform for their host family. Of course you shouldn't make a child eat a worm. Child labor is bad. Didactic American Girl was not.

[matthewkniesys]

where do we go now? - jamie drysdale

summary:

a/n: so firstly thank you @huggybearhughesy for your help!! this is based on the lyrics of gracie abrams song "where do we go now?". the lyrics are in bold. this isn't my favourite thing but i'm trying to push through a writers block so hopefully you guys like it :)

pairing: jamie drysdale x fem!reader

good riddance fic series

warnings: swearing and angst and i think thats it but lmk if you find anything else

You and Jamie go way back. Way, way back to when you were both in your moms stomachs. Your parents and Jamie’s parents were like those friend groups you see on TV. You know, the ones where both couples meet at college and then become an inseparable friend group and then move to the same city together and then raise their kids together.

And from the day you were born (3 months, 2 weeks, and 5 days after Jamie as he always reminds you), the two of you were inseparable. If you were at the pool Jamie was probably too. If Jamie was playing tag at recess you probably were too.  If Jamie had a hockey tournament chances were you were going to be there, at every game. And then as you grew older, if you were at a party Jamie was probably too. People knew that if they were looking for one of the two of you, all they had to do is ask the other one. That was the kind of bond you shared with your best friend.

Until the string that ties you two together started fraying. And then the string snapped all together.

24th Street

Where you held me, grabbed my arm

What a mental fire alarm

'Cause a lot of that felt wrong

After high school, you moved to Anaheim with Jamie. You didn’t think anything of it. At that point in your life all you knew was that you and Jamie weren’t going to break up. You would follow wherever he goes. It’s funny how you can be so sure of something and then all of a sudden you just aren’t anymore. It starts to feel wrong.

You two bought a small apartment on 24th street and for the first year it felt perfect. It was small and cozy and all you two really needed but at some point during the second year everything changed. 

You can’t exactly pinpoint the moment you started realizing this wasn’t it for you. That Jamie wasn’t gonna work out. That this wasn’t your forever. It probably wasn’t even one singular moment. It was lots of little ones all together that came crashing down. 

What you can pinpoint is the moment you realized you had to go. That you would suffocate if you stayed in this relationship any longer.

You came home after a horrible day at University and Jamie was there waiting. Like always. He was perfect like that. He never did anything wrong and he could always pick up on the queues that you weren’t having a great day. That used to feel like everything you needed but not anymore. Now it just felt predictable and boring. It felt like there was no passion left. No fire burning between the both of you.

“Hi babe. Bad day?” Jamie asks, after you let out a long sigh dumping all your stuff on the ground.

You make a little noise of acknowledgement, not even having the energy to talk to Jamie and that’s the part where it starts creeping up on you. The fact you don’t even want to talk to the person who supposedly means the most to you. The person who should be the love of your life.

The moment it slams into you though is when he comes up to you and wraps you in his arms. It should be comforting after all these years but in reality it feels like you’re drowning. It triggers something in your brain. You’re overwhelmed with the need to escape. Since when did being in Jamie’s arms, the arms of your boyfriend but more than anything your best friend start to feel so wrong?

Like I miss you

But when I kissed you back, I lied

You don't know how hard I tried

Had to fake the longest time

 After that day you tried so hard to stay. You ignored that little voice telling you to get out and run as fast as you can. But you could only take so much. You had love for Jamie still. That much was true but you missed it when you felt so utterly consumed by him. When you constantly wanted to be around him. You missed that part of your relationship with him.

Every hug, every kiss, every word felt wrong. Felt fake. 

You always hugged him and kissed him back. You tried to salvage what was there with the two of you. You pretended to yourself that you thought you could fix it, that maybe if you faked long enough it would become real  but you always knew you couldn’t. You were lying to yourself. There had never been an ending that ended with Jamie. It wasn’t in the cards with you.

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

One January night you were laying in bed, unable to fall asleep. Next to you your boyfriend was sleeping soundly, completely unaware that anything was wrong. You toss and turn and avoid thinking about the fact that you shouldn’t be here and that Jamie deserves to know that you don’t love him like that anymore. He deserves the world, you just won’t be the one to give it to him.

Slowly you feel Jamie stirring on the other side of the bed. He gets up and looks over at you, groggily.

He yawns and says, “Hey babe, what are you doing up?”

You look into your boyfriend's pretty eyes and in that moment you know you can’t do it anymore. There isn’t anywhere for you two to go. What you have or had is over now and you need to end it.

Tears well in your eyes and you take a deep breath, knowing that in the next moment you were going to break the heart of the boy you used to love most.

“Jamie… I can’t do this anymore. It isn’t fair to you because you did nothing wrong but to stay wouldn’t be fair to me either. I have to leave. This doesn’t feel right anymore. There isn’t anywhere for this relationship to go that wouldn’t end in heartache. I love you, Jamie and I will forever but I have to do what is right for me.”

Jamie doesn’t say anything at first, just lets the tears fall. After a moment he says, “I could feel you pulling away but I wanted to ignore it but I guess I can’t anymore. I don’t wanna let you go. And I know that’s not fair but I love you. There won’t be anyone but you.”

“Yes there will be, Jamie. There will be someone because we weren't meant for each other. There is nowhere for us to go.”

I know I changed overnight

So I can't blame you for fightin'

And I'd be losin' my mind

If you lived in your writin’

The days that follow are hard. You have to keep living in the apartment until you find other living conditions and Jamie is convinced he can find a way to make work. He just can’t see that the best of your relationship was behind and that’s where you had to leave it. Nothing good would come from trying to salvage this.

“Why are you just giving up on us?” Jamie says one day out of the blue while you two eat summer in silence.

“I am giving up because after spending so long trying to stay, I have to give up for the both of us. And I know to you it seems like I just flipped a switch and overnight decided this wasn’t good anymore but I’ve been thinking about us for a while.” You pause, “Honestly, Jamie I’m surprised you're not the one frustrated with me because lately I've been so caught up in my school work I barely even have time to spend with you. Isn’t that driving you crazy?”

“No, it’s not because I just need your presence. That’s enough for me. And I understand why you’re so busy. It’s not like you’re purposely avoiding me.”

“The last few months though, I have been avoiding you.”

'Cause now I'm half of myself here without you

You're the best in my life and I lost you

And we had no control when it fell through

It was one-sided, hate how I hurt you

The next month is a blur. Between finding your own place and being busier than ever with school, you don’t have tons of time to think about Jamie but when you do there’s a sinking feeling in your gut. 

You don’t regret ending it but you miss the friendship, the special bond that had been between you two since you were kids. You haven’t been apart from him for this long ever and it feels like a part of you is missing. 

Jamie has always been the best in your life. The amazing boy that every girl wishes was theirs but he had always been fully yours. Until now when you set him free.

You wish you hadn’t had to hurt him. He didn’t deserve it but you didn’t deserve to be trapped either. He had no control over the situation. He couldn’t have prevented what happened. It was one sided and it sucks but it's the truth.

If I could, I'd have changed every feelin'

Reservations were up to the ceilin'

Guess the space was the thing that I needed

But I miss you

“Hey y/n. Uh it’s Jamie. Sorry to bother you by calling. I just need to know one thing. And then I can move on. I can pretend I don’t feel like I’m drowning. Did you wish it could’ve been different? If you could've, would you have changed your feelings?”

 After a shaky breath from Jamie, silence fills the air. You’ve listened to this voice message he sent you at least twenty times at this point. You have memorized it but can’t stop replaying it.

The simple answer is yes. Yes, you would’ve done anything in your power to still love Jamie but it doesn’t matter because you couldn’t. It isn’t how the world works.

You tell exactly that to Jamie over the phone the next day  and he says nothing. He listens and then hangs up, leaving you to hope he’ll be okay.

Being apart from him has shown you, you made the right decision but that doesn’t make it hurt less. You still miss him. He was, after all, your best friend since the beginning and you no longer have each other. That’s…a lot to take in.

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

Where do we go now?

In the last month Jamie has asked himself over and over and over again what he could’ve done to make you stay. He comes up empty every time because he did everything right. Just wasn’t enough he guesses.

He doesn’t know where to go anymore because before it was always to you. You were his light in the dark. He used to follow that brightness but now that light has run out of power and he’s left to stumble through the darkness alone.

He will be okay, he just has to figure where to go now. Which way it is to escape the black and reemerge in the light.

good riddance fic series

thanks for reading🫶requests are always open for fics, blurbs, ig edits and just thoughts!!

taglist: @woodruff-edwards @nicohischierz @makarhughes @cobrakaisb @huggy-hischier94 @boldysswld@cole-mcward48@kashee-h@kjohnson-91 @jackhues @corneliaskates @imma-mirrorball @hvghes @emptyflowerpots @h0e4fictionalme-n @ivy-34 @jayisamirrorball @diary-of-jj @nicojackl0v3r

join my taglist