pendraigon-moved

[faethfigueroth]

.

[ceilidho]

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

[theultimatenonbinarynerd]

Epic Fandom We Need To Talk! (An Open Letter)

As a former survivor of severe Cyberbullying and harrasment I can no longer stay silent anymore. You have forced my hand.

This has gone way too far and I am massively disappointed. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to say. This is no longer a joke as a survivor of Cyberbullying and harrasment I can say that a misunderstanding has turned into The Epic Fandom putting the livelihood and well being of artists in danger. I ask you to be respectful and understand I am speaking from old wounds and experience. Please don't twist my words, I don't support 🍇 or Antinous he is a horrible character.

Tw: Mentions of Cyberbullying, 🍇 and harassment

Dear Epic Fandom,

You are better then this, I know you are. Polites taught us to greet the world with open arms and accept when people make mistakes and stop holding onto are anger. The fandom is growing and we can't stop it but I'm really disappointed in the people letting hate win and turning the fandom venomous and toxic

We are all Epic Fans but behind the glass on your screen there's a person, a person with feelings who you know nothing about. You all don't know the real Melody typing this but your all probably gonna make assumptions based on what you dont know and that is the danger of being online. The person who posted fanart of Antinous and Telemachus you didn't like, they have real feelings. Complicated messy feelings that aren't able to be articulated enough online.

As a survivor of bullying myself my motto is block or scroll. I myself am very uncomfortable with a lot of the ao3 tags shipping Odysseus with Poseidon or Zeus but do I go angrily type on my keyboard? No I don't cos it's none of my damnn business. When I saw that art, I was confused and uncomfortable but instead of being reckless and sentimental I asked for clarification. Taking Polites advice I used open arms and talked about what was bothering me without attacking the artist. Instead of being like Polites you all became Poseidon. Ruthlessness Is Mercy is not the way to go, it's a toxic way to go about life. Did you all not listen to that Thunder Saga and see how it destroyed everything Odysseus had known for the past thirteen years.

You should all be absolutely ashamed of yourself. This is not what the Epic Fandom should be. You don't like someone's fan art ask for clarification and or block. There is no need to be Ruthless and cruel. The fact two genuine heartfelt Apologises have been made and you still can't let it go very much clearly shows your character. You are very much like Poseidon and Zeus and should be ashamed. In Ares words you are all sick cowards. Not only that but you are clearly projecting. I suggest you go to therapy if you think your time in the Epic the musical fandom should be spent bullying and harassing people then leave. The number one rule is that there is always a person behind the screen and that you should think before you type.

I'm still not over the fact how you have twisted and triggered someone's truama. I also can't believe hate is being given after the artist mentioned her experience. 🍇 is not a thing to weaponise. I feel like the Wisdom Saga has made you far too comfortable in how you handle and discuss 🍇. The artist forgot her trigger warnings and wasn't even trying to imply the twisted image you put on her. Also I pointed out she shouldn't have tagged it Epic and apologied. Jorge has made adaptations to The Odssey a piece of fiction. What Jorge has done with Antinous is his own creative liberties. If you can't have sensitive and respectful conversation about something that is still happening to people I don't know what to say. Accusing someone of supporting 🍇 is not okay at all. The artist wasn't attending that way and understands she shouldn't have done what she did but it goes both ways. Look for context before you slam. Judging someone based on an honest mistake and huge misunderstanding is dangerous and cruel. Do you not understand the dangers this could put the artist in in real life. Please have open arms and think before you type. This is a serious topic and not a joke.

Moving on I want to talk about why I think this blew up so bad. It's because Elian was commissioned to do an animatic for Jorge. Listen you all would have blocked if it wasn't for that. I read comments saying they idolised her and that is a really f**** dangerous thing to do. Idiolising someone because they've been noticed or hired by Jorge isn't healthy at all. At the end of the day we are all human beings. Elian is allowed to make mistakes and grow. Outside of Epic this is becoming a massive problem in genuine.

Worse I've seen and heard about Artists like Mirscy and AnniFlamma getting attacked just for defending their friend. I'm sorry are we not allowed to defend our friends now from bullying? I can't speak for them but if I saw my friend getting hated and harassed on I'd be angry too, it's like a natural emotion to feel. Then again you are the same fandom that mocks Eurylochus for sticking up for his crew so I'm not suprised. These artists are human beings and not God's because Jorge noticed and appreciated their work. Stop twisting these artists into people there not.

I'm not Tiresias but I can see Jorge stopping collaborating with artists on animatics if you keep this disgusting behaviour up. Constructive criticism is okay but falsely twisting the image of an artist is not okay at all by doing this you are dehumanising artists and doing exactly what Hollywood does. Jorge will have to stop commissioning people it you keep using the fact he noticed them against them when they make mistakes like all human beings do.

Please do better and stop being Poseidons. An 8 year grudge was unhealthy and got him nowhere. Be more like Polites and Greet The World with open arms. Not everything is black and white. Tik Tok built the Epic Fandom up and you hold all the power.

Stay kind and great the world the world with open arms.

Yours Sincerely,

Melody

They/Them

Ps: If you send me hate and twist my words be warned I have friends as well. One particular friend was there when a lot of my Cyberbullying truama happened and is aware why this has triggered me so badly and caused an episode.

Attack you will be blocked. I'll also remove reblogs.

Attack and you will be reported.

You don't scare me.

Be nice Epic Fandom and don't become The Monster. I'm willing to have civil conversations but that's it.

[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!

[thefangirlfever]

The bet (a Logan/ Wolverine imagine), 18+

Note: This is not exactly the smut I promised you but rather a small idea I really wanted to write down. It's more suggestive than smutty but I still put a 18+ trigger warning and I'm still working in the real stuff. Enjoy!

Tags: M/F, suggestive, PIV sex, mention of cunnilingus, mention of drinking and smoking, written at 4 am.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language.

=================================

He doesn't remember exactly how it began, who started this but he dure was enjoying himself. She had caught his eyes as soon as he entered the bar. She was leaning nonchalantly against the counter top, a vague air of boredom on her features. A slightly crooked nose, a small foraged covered by outdated bangs, a mole under one of her charcoal eyes...She could almost blend into the decor if not for her hair. A luscious mane of red hair, as vibrant and deep as a sunset. Of course he immediately felt drawn to her, the shade reminding her of someone else, someone he should forget...

He just had the time to move to the bar to compose himself and chase those thoughts away. He wasn't even thinking straight as they started a conversation. She nay have been the one to offer him a drink first. Maybe he asked her if it was her natural color. The red was so vibrant it had to be a dye. Maybe she made a joke about sideburns were outdated. Maybe they shared a lighter, him for one of his cheap cigars and her for a Camel. Thin and elegant, like her. The scent of the smoke had clung to her skin, to her hair... She almost looked like a ghost among all this smoke, as if she was going to dissolve and disappear into thin air. This made him want to hold her back.

He told her he didn't know how to dance. But he was unable to resist a bet amd that's how he found himself following him to the dance floor. Her green dress hugged her swaying body and for a moment she looked like the stem of a flower swinging in the wind, her hair like bright petals. That's exactly when he knew he was tipsy. Comparing a woman, he was way past that.

His hands stayed on her hips as they danced and even as they walked to the room. He didn't know much about her after a few hours except that he wanted to get her out of that dress. It didn't bother him. After all he also had his secrets...

The sight of her red hair fanning over the sheets was breathtaking and almost made him stop as he hovered above her. His warm breath, heavy with the whiskey he had, caressed her skin and he watched with a male satisfaction all her body react from head to toe. She did smell like her cigarettes, except between her legs. There, the scent was like nothing he had ever smelled. It was heady, tangy and too sweet for him to let go.

With his face buried in her hair, his thrusts had become stronger, more forceful. Each sound he coaxed out of her made him feel dizzy. He still had her taste on his lips when he came, when he kissed her... His hands played with her hair, making the soft tendrils flow between his fingers like water. To his surprise, she didn't ask to leave after the sex. She simply leaned into his arms and lit up a cigarette while he played with her hair. They didn't even talk. They just basked in this comfortable silence. She was just as touch-starved as him.

When he woke up the next day, she was no longer here. He couldn't blame her for not staying. Then, why was he looking at the empty space on the bed like that? Why was he running his hand over the mattress like some lovestruck fool? He scoffed and tossed around before massaging his temples. He was getting too old...

Of course, he couldn't have chosen a worse day to be late. And of course he couldn't snuck into the school without someone seeing him. Scott was nice enough to not make a scene when he got his motorcycle back. Probably that the face of the older man told him everything he needed to know. This wasn't the moment to mess with him.

When they finally reached the office of the Professor to meet the new teacher, Logan was convinced this day couldn't get any worse. The whole meeting was as boring as one could be. At some point his eyes drifted over the woman. She was almost invisible, so easy to forget about as she mainly stood silent, all dressed in black like some of the moody teenagers they had at the school. But this time, his eyes lingered on her face, especially those deep charcoal eyes with a mole underneath one of them. She blinked in his direction and he saw a flash of recognition on her face. She knew.

She didn't have her red hair anymore. Instead she had short, shaggy strands of black hair as if she just rolled out of bed pointing in every direction. So, red wasn't her true color. But was this appearance even her real one ? At least, he knew what her real eyes would look like, two stormy skies before the rain when the clouds gather in an angry mob. The more he looked at her, the more he wondered how he could have thought she was invisible. A multitude of small features he hadn't noticed at first appeared at him as he observed her. His thoughts drifted away as he wondered if she still had that mark he saw the night before, that little moon-shaped birthmark on the inside of her thigh...

Once the meeting was over, he watched her leave for her quarters. Her eyes only left him once she had reached the door, almost a quiet invitation to follow her. And if there was one thing Logan couldn't resist,it was a bet.

[velvetvexations]

Have you seen the interaction between gwemmieee and faggy—butch circling your feed yet? What a mess

@gwemmieee I'm gonna tag you here because your pinned asks that people talk to you when they have issues with what you say. It seems like you might be tired of discussing the subject, though, and I encourage you to ignore this if you would you would rather. It's essentially my take on the first few things you said and why I feel like they weren't great and people were right to be bothered by it, but you don't seem like a terrible person and it's more important that you take care of yourself than throw yourself into endless argument.

@faggy--butch I'll also tag you if this feels relevant to you, lmk if you'd rather I take it out

-----

I generally keep discourse off my feed because if I follow someone who talks about the intercommunity stuff I can handle they inevitably talk about the stuff that's triggering for me. There are several people I'd love to be mutual with otherwise.

I'd heard about it but did not realize it was quite that...extensive. Mm. I'm not sure if my perspective as another transfem would help or not since she seems in a rough place over it. I'll say there her things in her original reply that faggy--butch didn't even mention that I didn't like, like claiming trans men have problems getting access to certain spaces but trans women can't exist anywhere. That's pretty dire and if not for the insistence that she believes in the validity of transandrophobia would probably be enough to get me to be mean to her, but it seems like she was genuinely trying to be negotiable, and that's an important distinction when a lot of people really are treating transmasc issues as so much lesser in comparison to transfems.

The problem is that "transandrophobes bad" is not really a negotiable position. In what way are "baby transfems" being "vilified"? It's not a matter of not being up to date. Some of the things not only transfems but also self-identified TMEs - note that the OP did not say transfems - are really vile and cruel. To jump onto a post saying that to protest that one shouldn't be too mean to them back feels...weird.

Like;

However, if a trans masc wants to hold any baby trans fem to an unreasonably high standard of always knowing what is and isn't OK to say, and what feelings are not OK to voice, instead of engaging in good faith and trying to hear them, validate them, educate them, and NOT control them, that's kinda fucked up.

That's just not happening. That's not what's going on. To say transandrophobes simply "don't know what is and isn't okay to say, and what feelings are not OK to voice" really truly is treating them like literal babies. It may not be what she meant to say but it's so hard to understand a meaning to those initial posts that aren't saying one should never get mad at a trans woman for anything they say or do because being treated like a bad person is traumatic.

She seems to have gone on to have a better conversation about it with others where she understood more of what was being said and was able to clarify her thoughts more, but that still ends with blaming others for coming in too hot and I don't think that tracks at all. Even if she didn't mean to say something, she still said what she said and it's not really fair to turn that around as everyone just misunderstanding her and it not being her fault for that.

[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 (:

[allwormdiet]

Sentinel 9.3

Y'know, the irony here is that as I'm writing this post I've just started an online course with video lectures.

Solid bit of establishing characterization, an easy display of people's emotional ties and states.

Parahuman science must be so fucking hard to work with, honestly. Your subject matter is made up of a bunch of people with trauma-activated abilities that actively defy physics or other laws of reality, combination of psychology and whatever the hell you call studying outliers in how the fucking universe works.

Also glad people aren't just content to let the matter of parahuman origins end at "they just started happening." I know they haven't cracked the how or why of it in thirty years but I also know they crack it some time in the next two-ish years of canon, which should be interesting.

Also also, the inclination towards combat and conflict is... I know it's not going to be a long time until we talk about the "why" of that one either, but when we do I have notes for the designer(s) on these things

Oh, okay, so trigger events are talked about in a 100-level course, and Taylor straight up didn't know about them. Interesting? She really didn't give that much of a shit about cape stuff before stumbling into the life of a supervillain, huh.

Correlation between physical trauma -> physical powers and psychological trauma -> mental powers is interesting as well, although that leaves plenty of room for the edge cases. Glory Girl is actually the prime example there, too, brute and mover seem like the obvious tags but that doesn't cover the aura, which is I guess master? I'm less and less convinced that it was really just a foul in basketball that made her trigger tbh.

Also: I cannot even fucking imagine what the studies must be like about the New Wave families. Imagine writing your fucking thesis on the Dallon-Pelham Torment Nexus. Imagine being Victoria, Amy, Crystal, or Eric, and your family is being taught about in classes because of how "good" it is at inflicting superpowers on you. No I will not entertain the idea that either family is normal, parahuman psychology has so far shown zero signs of being healthy for anybody and it's not going to start holding back when it comes to child-rearing.

I'm not unsympathetic to what Clockblocker is stewing over, but the PRT can't let these kids dedicate every waking hour to crisis management; there will be a day where they're not dealing with a drowned city, and they might as well get ready for it now, and take time off from trudging through muck and mayhem as they do it.

Narrowing my eyes at the witch burning thing but I'm not going to harp on whatever the hell's going on there.

I think the gender divide makes sense but I don't know if it holds totally consistent in-story; the pre-Leviathan Wards and Protectorate ENE definitely leaned more male than female in its numbers, Merchants and ABB are two men to one woman, Empire is... eight men to seven women I think? I think as of right now the only teams we have that even have more women than men are Undersiders, Travelers, Faultline, and New Wave.

This is probably more math than I should be doing but whatever, don't use math in your story if you don't want someone checking it.

That's the same thing as Circus, right? Interesting that it's a known phenomenon.

He's doing his best, be nice.

Bunch of people are gonna be really annoyed when it turns out where powers come from because there's no way they could predict it from where they're standing.

Hwoof.

Oh, so that's Clockblocker's trigger event and power explained all at once, isn't it? I don't know if it's stated explicitly but "buying time in every way except for the one that matters the most to you" sounds like the kind of monkey's paw shit that powers love to do.

Now see, there's an interesting dilemma, isn't it. Family teams are all well and good (allegedly, given how parahumans work) but the moment one or more members die all of a sudden it's that much more fucked up for everybody. Even if the team persists past losing Manpower and Shielder there's no way they're gonna hold together after Amy & Vicky's Nightmare Extravaganza. One of the most notable independent teams in the setting with over a decade of experience, and in the span of a few months they're going from apex to nonexistence. I don't really have it in me to weep for the adults, see above suspicions about Torment Nexus, but I feel awful for the kids. Crystal is gonna be the last one standing until, what, Ward? That's gotta fuck you up good. Poor fucking girl.

And then the portraits. Hoo boy.

The portraits thing feels. I dunno. Do you have to put them right next to the other members? That feels like a really good way to get your underage parahumans even more fucked up about mortality if I'm being honest.

This is touching. Also fuck cancer.

Exactly what the Wards need, less open communication.

This is a hard conversation to have in a lot of ways. Weld is fumbling but he's trying, and the rest of the team needs to meet him in the middle for things to work out.

And. Ugh. I see an unfortunate side of myself in Clockblocker here. I've got an awful habit of going for low blows in an argument if I'm feeling low enough. I get mean, I say things just to make it hurt. I haven't done it in a long time, but it's still a thing I have done and can do if I don't watch it. With this at least it's an accident, or at least the extent of harm Clockblocker is doing is way beyond what he intended.

Clockblocker has the sense to fear Glory Girl in this moment, and she has the grace to forgive him.

And that's proof of who Clockblocker is when he's not at his worst. When he's not lashing out because of the active fucking wringer he's being shoved through, he's obviously thoughtful and kind; the lashing out is, uhh, understandable, but still a problem.

She's just a kid...

I talked about this with some folks on Discord, it's kind of remarkable to me that a guy with literal empathy powers couldn't hold a steady relationship with a single girl. I'm sure parahuman romance is its own special kind of fraught, but that's a little silly.

That said, it sounds like Gallant was good people.

This is very funny though

Oh hey, we have anger and futility coming back together again, haven't seen that for a minute.

Honestly I feel like the ones who try to be funny are usually the ones who've got so much shit going on in the background, anger is the least surprising thing to come from the team's designated funny one.

Good on Dennis for realizing how easy it is to use anger and how hard it can be to let go of it. Shit sucks.

Wuh oh.

This is gruesome, and a harbinger of things to come. Oh boy.

Fuck were the Travelers even doing here, anyhow?

Also crazy bold of the Wards to try and pick this fight. The Travelers have such outrageous firepower, I don't think there'd be much sense in picking this fight.

Skimming back through the fight, not a whole lot for me to say? I'm not super invested in it, I guess, it feels like there's exceptionally little actually riding on this fight. The Travelers want to fuck off and the Wards want to stop them from fucking off, the gallery fight had more meat than this.

"Oh thank god, a conflict I can throw myself into to feel useful and offset all the negative feelings that not fighting has left me stricken with."

That's not a criticism of Clockblocker by the way, if anything I'm just staring at the thing brought up earlier this chapter where most parahumans are driven into fighting each other and suspecting something of a connection.

Current Thoughts

I see some of my younger self in Clockblocker, which is ironic bc I actually had a superhero OC back in high school named Clockblock (his powers were a lot broader and his thing was more about struggling with overwhelming ennui in the face of his own significance in the grand scale of Time Itself). I hope he manages to get over that anger and hurt, but he's a parahuman, so I kinda doubt it.

Kid Win next, plus further plot developments.

[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)

[transmascpetewentz]

Welcome to my blog! 🤍💙🤍

Hello everyone, I'm sure you already know me, but for the new people: I'm Lou, I'm a bigender (in a jewish sense) fem gay trans man, I'm white/slavic, and I'm converting to Judaism. There isn't really a theme to my blog, I just find sideblogs too hard to keep track of so I keep everything in one spot. Politics, my personal life, and fandom will be posted here all as one stream of consciousness.

Here's my old pinned post if you ever need it, though the information on there may be outdated and probably doesn't reflect my current views if I've said something contradictory more recently. You can find my tagging/filtering system, general content warnings, and more about me under the cut.

To all the lurkers on my page, kiss the meowzuzah on your way in!

(all credit goes to @the-catboy-minyan)

Longer About Me

I'm converting to Judaism. Currently, I'm working on observing Shabbat and beginning more serious Torah study. We'll see where this goes; I would say that the journey > the destination, if the destination wasn't so good. You'll see me shitposting about this a lot, because it's something that's important to me and my brain likes to make up jokes about everything I think about for a prolonged period of time.

I'm also learning Hebrew. Currently, it isn't very good, but I can hold a basic conversation using some Google translate for individual words. I had to re-learn nikud because of reading the Siddur and Tanakh. I'm not very commentary-literate, though I've attempted to get into reading some for the Torah. Also, I keep mostly kosher!

Tag Filtering

So, I'm not very good at tagging, but one that I use pretty frequently is #ask to tag and it's a catch-all for anything that you might want to proceed with caution in. I also use #long post and #arguing a lot, for long posts and arguing respectively. Other than that, I'll tag most things about a certain bigotry with #[bigotry], including examples of that bigotry. If you're affected by said bigotry, you can and should filter the tag for your mental health!

I recommend that you filter out certain words entirely instead of just tags if you are triggered by a subject, since I oftentimes forget to tag posts with adequate warning tags. I don't like to tag things a lot, so if you are triggered by things I post about a lot and word filtering doesn't work for you, feel free to unfollow.

Although this is not an ED blog, I have an eating disorder and I post about it under the tag #ed talk. If you are uncomfortable with hearing that kind of discussion, block the tag and don't engage with the posts. If you are the kind of person who thinks people with eating disorders should have to censor themselves online for the comfort of others, do yourself a favor and don't follow me at all.

Frequently Asked Questions

Are you a Zionist?

It depends on how we're defining Zionism. If we're defining Zionism as "support of the modern state of Israel," I am a post-Zionist because the state exists. If we're defining Zionism as "the right of Jews as a native people to live and have self-determination in their native land," (which is also my personal definition), I am a proud Zionist. If Zionism means "support for the murder of innocent Palestinian people," then I am anti-Zionist, but that is a definition that divorces Zionism from its historical context.

Can you reblog my donation post?

Probably not, unless we already know each other. Due to the amount of donation scams that have popped up on tumblr recently, I don't feel safe giving money to random people that ask.

[knific]

hi im john! or zero. i'm a LEESBO and i draw stuff : also im multifandom and i switch interests almost monthly. if you follow me for one thing you might not get that.

i'm fifteen and from the southeast of asia. i can speak different languages but i only prefer being spoken to in english lol!

also we MIGHT be mutuals. this isn't my main blog and that was actually a mistake because i didn't know how to use tumblr by the time. if you see you're being followed by some user called epicflowpow then I guess we're mutuals :') that's my main blog that im inactive on! lol! it's hard to explain

byf:

i have bad memory don't expect me to remember anything personal like ur birthday,

i make sex jokes sometimes ok if ur not comfortable lmk and ill stop,

i post what i want, i might post blood, gore, etc. anything i post may be triggering, if you don't like it block me! the only form of censoring you'll get is the tags so get ready to mute a few (ex: cw blood, cw knife, cw suicide)

my social skills suck.. you can try to talk to me but i get very nervous when talking privately and i might say things i don't mean

i am sometimes rude but it's just for fun lol i don't actually mean it,

i don't reaalyyy use tonetags but ill use them when my wording starts to sound a little serious

uhhh i make homophobic jokes because it's FUNNY. im actually a person of the bacon community though so yeah.

i like to cuss my faves out. i will say very very mean stuff about them and I won't state whether it's positive or negative. if you don't like that then you should probably not read the tags sometimes

i ironically use emojis like 😂🥺🥹😜 etc

-

dni: i don't have a dni because people are gonna interacr with me anyways. ill block whoever makes me feel uncomfortable and who not (pr/shipp*rs are not exceptions lol ALL will be blocked)

-

also i do requests! here are like. rules for my requests n stuff:

i think im most likely to do EVERY request you guys give me, so go crazy! i just won't do it quickly. because im not an art machine

i do any reqs, but i will less likely do/will put for last the oc requests lol :)

okay when I said any reqs i lied: just don't request me taco x pickle loll it's for the sake of some of my mutuals :) i can still draw them hanging out but it won't be tagged as ship or implied ship

i also do any fandom but again i will less likely do fandoms im not in lol

uhh. if im uncomfortable with a ship in particular ill just ignore your req don't bother sending it again or im gonna give you a beating

complicated styled characters are ok but if you wanna give me a first good impression don't send them or you're literally breaking my fingers physically

also comics scare me if you request those too you're also breaking my fingers (it's not prohibited though you can send them but ill cry)

-

tags

0 art: for my art

0 ask: for asks

0 req: art requests!

0 s req: things people draw for me :)

0 reblogs: for reblogs (best muted)

0 txt: me talking

0 talk: me talking w other ppl

0 fave: favourites/saving for later

0 other: other

[riggedtraps]

IT'S ALL BULLSHIT, IT'S ALL A LIE...

...AND I'M JUST A PAWN IN YOUR STUPID GAMES.

Hi, I'm Amanda. Or you can call me Mandy, I don't care. I'm 29. I guess I'm a woman, but I don't care about that either. She/her or they/them is fine, maybe even he/him if you want. Definition of the 'mean lesbian' stereotype.

I work for Jigsaw, so watch what you say around me. He helped me and maybe He can help you, too. DMs and asks from anyone is fine.

I should probably mention I have BPD. Petulant, impulsive and self destructive. So if I'm rude, it's probably me being a cunt, not you.

that intro better be in character or ill cry </3

anyway ooc introduction!!

i'm gia, i use they/them pronouns. im agender (and so is amanda, she just doesnt know it yet!). i also have bpd too, so yes, will be accurate to my experiences. im a minor so nothing too nsfw or gross.

literally anyone can interact! whether ur a rp blog or not, i will literally roleplay with anyone, even oc blogs (y'all are so cool). send me asks or dm me, whatever works. any ships too, i dont mind, though ofc mandys only romantically interested in women and nonbinary folks, but platonic ships with anyone works! :3C

i'm making this because im obsessed with saw rn its my special interest and i kin amanda so hard <3 first ever roleplay blog ive ran, so excuse any mistakes. gonna try keep amanda in character as much as possible, but may add a few headcanons in here and there. if she's ooc, please excuse that too. 🙏

of course, it's amanda so there's gonna be triggers for self harm, suicidal tendencies, mental health, and then general triggers for the saw franchise. will tag things such as self harm with 'tw self harm' or 'tw cutting' so block those if you don’t wanna see it.

also gonna reblog stuff i think amanda would like, so stuff like punk, goth, music stuff—but also blood, weapons, horror. not full gore but implications of it. will trigger tag them, so block those if you don't wanna see it.

gonna use ❪ ❫ for when out of character. e.g ❪hii!! :3❫

'꩜—mandy rants' : making in character posts

'꩜—gia rants' : ooc posts

'꩜—mandy answers' : tag to keep track of answering asks

'꩜—mandy rps' : for roleplay threads

'꩜—mandy writes' : short stories i imagine amanda wrote as a hobby/vent

my main blog: @messyscarletdreams

'♫—mandy's playlist' : songs i associate with amanda/think she'd like

each blog i interact with will have their own tag of their user for easier tracking

each character i interact with has a tag with amanda e.g '❪ john & amanda. ❫'

my saw oc blog: @poor-impulsecontrol

[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!

[sarandipitywrites]

Writeblr Intro

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

about me:

hi! i'm saran (they/them). 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:

Spark Signature (wip intro, tag)

Ten years after their best friend's disappearance, Vy'd almost given up on seeing Jules again. But now that he's come back, and with a plan to steal the Foundation for Magitechnical Advancement's most sinister assets, Vy knows they can't let him pursue his vendetta alone. But the interference of Vy's nosy RPG group-slash-found family forces Vy to choose; will they do what they know is right and help Jules infiltrate the Foundation, or will they keep their head down and try to keep their family safe from the inevitable fallout? (high fantasy sci fi; LGBT+; cyberpunk; heist; thriller; original fiction) Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @leah-yasmin-writes, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @ceph-the-ghost-writer, @mundanemoongirl

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, Ao3)

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, @rivenantiqnerd

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.