#it would be triggering to me so it needs one

[silken-moonlight]

The wild hunt, Part 1

Pairing: F!Tav x Astarion x Halsin + established relationship

Genre: Smut

A/N: Firstly thank you guys so much for all the love. And thank you so much @horizonstride for making me continue this little concept in my head. I will Post the second part later today. It still needs some editing. Again thank yall so much

A gentle breeze blew over the three elves who sat together, caught in their hair. The wood elf amongst them, Halsin, sat on the ground. His head was leaned against Tav’s leg while Astarion sat with Tav on a wood log. After a rough day, the three of them enjoyed their time together, away from the others of the camp. A sweet moment just for them. Each of them had a cup with wine in their hand, after recently finding three whole chests of wine.

“Halsin?” Tav asked, gaining the attention of the wood elf. “Yes, my love?” His gaze found hers as he tilted up his gaze. “Since you are very connected to your wildshape, do you have the same predator urges sometimes?” Tav asked, while her hand found its way into Halsins hair. Astarion watched the two of them, sipping from his wine. Sadly he didn’t taste as much as he wished, however the alcohol still had the littlest effect on him, easing a bit of the tension he had been building up inside him for some time now. He felt like everything was running too well. Especially with his two partners Tav and Halsin, both of them were far much too nice, too caring and too understanding of him. But for now he wanted to enjoy, even if it would not last.

“How come you ask?” Halsin wondered before answering: “I do have some…similar urges. For example I stick mostly to a diet similar to my wild shape.” Astarion snickered and asked: “And do you get excited in springtime too? Being filled with the need to breed?” The vampire's voice was overly sultry to tease Halsin. Tav couldn’t help but chuckle too. “I actually do not, Astarion.” Halsin answered before adding with a smug grin: “Since I am almost always filled with the need to breed one of you two.” Halsin mimicked Astarions sultry tone. Tav gaped at Halsin while Astarion laughed heartily. “Well someone here is a bad influence on you…” Tav answered while blushing heavily. The vampire needed a moment to pull himself together, being both amused and a little aroused from Halsins answer. Usually the older druid was so much more boring in Astarions eyes.

“So, why did you ask?” Halsin asked again, which made Tav blush a little deeper. “Well, if I would run away from you, would that trigger something in your head to chase me?” Before Halsin could even answer her, Astarion did: “Uh, does our dear Tav have something kinky in mind? I can hear your heartbeat little love…” He teased her and licked his lips. Halsin stayed silent, since he wanted to hear her answer. “Maybe…” Tav answered a little more boldly. Halsin pressed a kiss onto her knee: “My answer is yes, I would feel the need to chase after you. However, and I think I can speak for both Astarion and me, when people like us get into the mindset of a hunt…we get a little lost in it. And in claiming our price.” Tav listened to every word leaving Halsins lips, Astarion watched her with a grin and said to Halsin. “My sweet bear, I think you are fuelling some very naughty thoughts in Tav’s mind…” Tav poked the vampire in the side, making him grab her wrist and pulling her close to him before placing a demanding kiss on her plump lips. “Now tell us, sweetling…What dirty little thoughts are currently residing in your pretty head?”

Halsin listened to the two, enjoying the sight of his two lovers kissing and teasing each other. Tav answered: “Well I…I always wanted to try primal play with people that I trust…§ Her voice held a little coy tone, but her eyes were filled with excitement. A smug grin made its way onto her lips: “Also I think I would be really good at escaping you two. I am a druid too, I know the forest.” That made the two others chuckle. “Forgive me, my heart, but you would have no chance in escaping either of us.” Astarion nodded in agreement before sipping from his wine. “Prove it.” Tav dared them, quite sure of her own abilities. Halsin, usually not up for such things since it distracted him from the Shadowland quest, answered: “Tomorrow night then. Astarion and I will hunt you down.” Astarion protested: “I don’t need your help. In fact, I know I would be even faster without you. Tav stands no chance against me.” Halsin raised an eyebrow: “I doubt that, my heart. I do believe I would be the first to catch Tav. I know the forest and I would be going even so far that the nose of a bear is as fine as the one of a vampire.” The vampire scoffed: “Never. Let's make a competition! If I win, which I clearly will, and find Tav first, you two will be mine for the night. Doing what I want.” He suggested. Halsin immediately answered with a grin: “If I win, the same goes for me. The two of you will be mine for the rest of the night.” Tav looked back and forth between them: “Who would have known that the two of you would be so competitive… Well if I win, the same goes for me.” Halsin nodded: “Good then. I am very thrilled to teach both of you a lesson.” Astarion chuckled: “Tell yourself that, bear. I will win, oh I am already imagining what I will do…”

_________________________________________________________

The next day was mostly spent resting until the evening arrived. The three walked away from the camp, informing the others that they will not be back so soon. Astarion had been quite certain that he would be winning with ease, whispering all kinds of lewd things into Halsin and Tav’s ears through the day.

“You get a fifteen minute head start.” Halsin said to Tav at the edge of the forest. Tav nodded: “Any other rules for me?” She asked, being quite thrilled about this. “No, this is a hunt, there are no rules…Of course if you are not feeling comfortable anymore in any situation, use your safeword.” Softly he added: “The same goes for you Astarion.” There was a slight softness in Astarions eyes, however it quickly vanished and instead there was cockyness: “Quit the talking, I want to hunt and claim what's mine.” Tav couldn’t help but giggle and answer:” Don’t be so sure of yourself, I will just run away from both of you.” After that she went off into the forest, running as fast as she could.

“You will lose, my darling bear.” Astarion teased Halsin, looking at him with his best half lidded gaze while licking his lips. “And you will spend so much time on your knees tonight…” The vampire added while his gaze dipped lower to Halsins crotch. The tall elf could only chuckle: “You are such a little brat sometimes, my heart. Don’t be too sure.” Astarion will never understand how Halsin managed to have such a gentle tone. They teased each other back and forth, riling each other up while feeling the anticipation of chasing their lover through the woods. Finally the time was up and they went after Tav.

Tav was running as if the hells were behind her. She wanted to win, desperately. She used many tricks, like teleportation for some distances. She crossed the river two times, leaving a piece of clothing in one place ... .As well as some other dirty little tricks. Slowly though, the exhaustion crept in. Her sprinting began to change into a slower jog. Sometimes she stopped, trying to stop her fast beating heart. She listened to the wind and nature. Listening if somebody was close to her. Then she went on walking, changing her direction three times. Even looking up in the trees in case one of them was there… For the longest time there was nothing.

Crack. A sound, far too close to her liking. Immediately she began running again. Not daring to look behind herself. However, no steps followed her. So she slowed down, hid behind thick bushes and listened. No sound. Silently she walked on, trying to listen while making as little noise as possible. Just when Tav was sure that she was alone again, another loud crack was heard. Immediately she began running again, sweat beginning to coat her completely, the fear and thrill of being hunted pumped through her veins. It was exciting, making her heart jump in an unbeknownst way to her. Suddenly there were steps behind her. Tav ran for her dear life, confident she could lose her chaser. Somehow she did, Tav was sure she was alone again.

A beautiful meadow opened up before her in the middle of the thick forest. It was probably risky to cross it, since it was more of an open field and one could spot her easily between the low grass and flowers. However Tav also could watch somebody cross it. So she took all her left strength and boldness and tried to dart across it. She managed to get to the middle of the meadow before she knew she was done for. Behind her she heard that something was following her. Something big and it closed far too quickly. Tav has begun to grow even more tired and her legs trembled from sprinting so much. The mistake was that she looked over her shoulder. Catching a glimpse of the giant wild shape of Halsin. He brought her to fall, changing back into himself again. Halsin pinned her to the ground with his large body. Sweaty, naked and hard. Both breathed quite hard, needing a moment before being able to speak. There was a giant grin plastered on Halsins face. “Look what I caught, a scared little prey…” He whispered into Tav’s ear. His large cock pressed into her clothed thigh, his warmth seeping into her as she wished she was naked too.

“Did you really think you could have run from me…?” He whispered and licked from her collar bone up to her ear. He groaned as adjusted his hips: “THe okfther blessed me with enough stamina to chase you forever…” His hands found her blouse, pulling it ober her head and opening her underwear. Licking down to her breast, circling her nipple before licking backt up again and whispering into her ear. “But we will wait for him.” There was a devilsness in his tone Tav wasn’t familiar with, however it made her even wetter than the thought of getting hunted and claimed.

Halsin pulled her up with him, getting rid of her pants and shoes. When she was naked like him she could feel the wind on her skin. The night might have been chilly, but her skin was burning for the touch of her lovers. “How…did you get me so fast?” She asked, a little breathy. Halsin grinned even more, his large hand diving between her legs, two of his fingers teasing her wetness, by now it wetted her thighs too, diving in so easily before he brought those fingers to his mouth. He sucked them in, savoring the taste of her essence while his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. “Your scent and taste is the sweetest. I could find you blind.” He growled, clearly impatient. It only took two more minutes until Astarion walked up to them. He already was pouting, maybe even a little embarrassed. “Looks like I have won, little brat.” Halsin teased him with a grin. Astarion mumbled something Tav didn’t catch.

“What was that?” Halsin asked. Astarion answered: “You won, don’t be so cocky…” Halsin laughed before demanding of him: “Undress, then down. On your knees.”

_____

Taglist: @incrediblethirst @musicalskeleton @adequate-superstar @clairetheflower

[gloomwitchwrites]

hi!!! i literally started reading your blog and FR YOU HAVE TALENT. Got me giggling and kicking my feet cus of that girl dad!tf141 fics.

I was reading one of the links you put in for prompt ideas and I read that one six words sentence from link five: "I can't risk losing you again." hello?? potential angst to fluff?? I couldn't get it off my head and i was wondering if you could write something from it :>

Thank you so much! That's so sweet of you! I'm so glad you enjoyed reading the Just Like Dad stories. I had a lot of fun writing them.

"I can't risk losing you again" is such an open-ended prompt. There is a lot you can do with that. I hope my humble offering is enough. I certainly went more angst than fluff on this one, but I really do love sad things with twinges of hope thrown in.

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, mild blood, non-graphic mentions of violence, angst, fluff, pregnancy, mentions of pregnancy complications

Simon "Ghost" Riley: An enemy of Simon's harms you, forcing Simon to make a tough decision. (wc: 315) Kyle "Gaz" Garrick: Kyle decides there is only one way to keep you close. (wc: 323) John Price: Price worries after you tell him you're pregnant when the first pregnancy had complications. (wc: 329) John "Soap" MacTavish: Johnny learns that falling in love with a teammate can only lead to sorrow. (wc: 542)

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if series masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Busted door. Shattered glass. Overturned table.

The lights aren’t working and rain enters through the open patio door. You are safe and whole and far from this. But is it enough? Will Simon be able to keep you safe?

What was once doubt is now cold truth.

It’s not your trashed home but the state Simon found you in. It was your heavy-lidded eyes and bruised face. It was the pools of red that Simon didn’t know belonged to you, the dead man facedown in the carpet, or both. It was your smile of relief when you realized it was Simon drawing you into his arms.

Simon knows the man who did this—no. He knows who fucking ordered it.

And when he finds Makarov, he’ll show that fucker just how trigger-hungry he can be. The lead will burst and fuse to his lungs, and Simon will bathe in the aftermath.

All that’s left is your safety. If Simon knew that his career would lead to this, he would have taken steps to protect you years ago. You are always his one bright spot, that candle in the dark that is his life.

With you, he became more than his trauma. More than his guilt. More than his past. With you, he found peace. He found happiness. You are the sugary candy that sticks in the teeth but is too addictive to give up.

Departing is agony. The return is his reward and his longing.

You are everything.

And that is why he let you go.

Why he said, “I can’t risk losing you again.”

He put his head in your lap, his fingers digging into the sides of your thighs and failed to push down the tears.

Laswell will take you far away. She will keep you somewhere safe.

Makarov won’t find you.

And maybe—perhaps in the future—Simon can return to you.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is a nervous wreck.

The tiny box sits heavy in his pocket, burning an invisible hole. His plan is not the most romantic, but the two of you aren’t the type to go big. It’s all subtle, and Kyle only wants this moment to include the two of you.

This is his last chance.

Kyle’s final opportunity.

In this relationship, Kyle has kept you second. Not on purpose but out of habit. Work is his lifeblood. It drives him, and every successful mission is a point of pride. But in keeping up with that, Kyle left you behind.

His absences lengthened, and over time, he noticed you were pulling away, closing off. But that isn’t your fault. Kyle created the perfect brew for you to drink. These are the consequences of his actions, and he needs to make it right.

There was a time when Kyle nearly did lose you. When he came home and thought you had packed up and left without saying a word. That broke him. Made him realize just how distant he’d become.

Change is difficult.

But Kyle did it. Slowly.

Your smile returned, and when he comes home, your greetings are full of passion.

I can’t risk losing you again.

Kyle takes a deep breath as the deadbolt on the front door disengages. There is a slight tremble in his hands. Kyle is never nervous. Never. But fuck—taking this next step is driving him up the goddamn wall.

He pushes off from the couch, turning just as the front door swings open.

You step inside, face turned away as you go to shut the door. When you finally glance into the room, all the nervousness inside Kyle’s chest evaporates.

Your smile is so sweet, and you don’t hesitate. Dropping your bag, you rush toward him, and Kyle cannot help but meet you halfway.

He’s making the right choice in asking you to stay with him forever.

John Price

“You’re not happy.”

John is happy. He is. But old worries bubble up, seeping into the joy. It’s tainting everything, and that is clear by how your smile starts to fade.

“I am happy,” he says, but his mouth is a hard line. John knows he’s frowning.

You shake your head, one hand resting over your stomach. “Don’t lie, John.”

This is supposed to be a happy moment. He should sweep you up in his arms. He should kiss you until you’re begging for air. But all John can think about are all the doctor appointments he attended with you, and the grimness of what might not happen.

From that came a daughter. John loves her. Adores her. But bringing her into the world nearly killed you. He grappled with that stress while being as present as possible with you. Growing your family has always been a dream, and John doesn’t fault you for a second. There is no family without you.

John grasps the sides of your face and moves into your space. Your own hands close over his, keeping him from retreat.

“I am happy,” he reiterates. “But we both know what it took to bring our daughter into the world.” John shakes his head absently and breathes deep. “Don’t do this for me.”

“John—”

“I can’t risk losing you again.”

This time, your smile returns. There is a hint of sadness lingering behind it, as if you too are reflecting on all that happened.

“Everything will be fine.” You release his hand and gently cup his cheek.

John kisses your forehead, his thumb absently tracing your jaw. “Are you sure?”

The decision is ultimately yours, and John will respect whatever you decide.

“I’m sure.”

“Okay,” he nods.

John pulls you in, lips finding yours. When you melt into him, accepting all that he’s giving, a wave of peace settles over him.

This is right.

And whatever happens, the two of you will face it together.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny drips water all over the floor. He is soaked through. Shivering. But he could give a fuck.

“Where is she?”

“Soap—”

“Where the fuck is she, Price?”

Captain Price sighs heavily and crosses his arms. “She needs rest.”

Johnny swallows down his retort. He’s not upset with Price, and shit like this happens all the time, but he needs to know if you’re okay.

You took a fucking bad fall, and Johnny couldn’t stop to run after you. The mission comes first, and it wasn’t his job. Other people stepped in and whisked you away. But from the height you plummeted from, Johnny feared the worst.

Still does to an extent.

If you were dead, Price wouldn’t hide that from him. But he might hide how bad you’re injured as a way to protect him. Price has always been fatherly in that regard. Right now, it’s driving Johnny fucking nuts.

“Captain. Please,” Johnny clenches his fists and then releases them. “Let me see her.”

Price’s frown smooths a bit and the middle of his brow wrinkles with concern. “For a few minutes. All I can spare.”

Johnny has to keep from rushing to the hospital room doorway when the words leave Price’s mouth. He has Johnny walk with him to your door. Thunder rumbles in the distance and rain steadily hits the large window at the far end of the hospital room.

Just as Johnny takes a step inside, Price’s hand is on his shoulder.

“She’ll make it,” is all he says before he shuts the door.

Johnny lingers right inside. All the lights are off except a small lamp in the corner. Your eyes are closed, and your face is peaceful. There is bruising. A few bandages. The machines next to the bed beep softly.

He was so eager—so determined to get to you. Now, Johnny deflates.

On quiet feet, he grabs a chair and brings it over to your bedside. You don’t stir. Simply sleep. Johnny eases down into the chair and leans forward, his forearms crossed as he rests them on the side of the hospital bed.

Still, you don’t move. And Johnny doesn’t dare wake you.

Rest is important, and all he wants is for you to recover.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “That I didn’t come sooner.” The rain picks up and Johnny smooths back his wet hair. “But I can’t keep doing this. Every time you’re hurt I—” He sighs heavily and rests his forehead on his crossed arms.

“I can’t risk losing you again,” he murmurs into the bedding.

It’s become too much. You’re not supposed to fuck your coworkers and you shouldn’t fall in love with them either. But Johnny did both. With you. And he cannot take that back.

He’d give anything if you’d set this all aside.

Your fingers brushing against his scalp startle him. Johnny lifts his head, only to find you watching him. There is a soft smile on your lips, and his instinct is to grasp your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing each knuckle and then your palm.

The moment your mouth opens to speak, there is knock at the door. Johnny frowns and looks up, finding Price in the doorway.

“Time’s up.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @miaraei

@coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @unhinged-reader-36 @pearljamislife

@miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff

@berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf

@lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien

@sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d

@heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @contractedcriteria

@lovely-ateez @gingergirl06 @kidd3ath @leed-bbg @blackhawkfanatic

@suhmie @tulipsun-flower @ghosts-hoe @jaggersinclair @nomercyforthewarrior

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

the girl next door 17

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, manipulation, chronic illness, noncon/dubcon, coercion, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: A new neighbour moves in and upends your already disarrayed life.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself.

This lewk but silverfox

“You’re leaving me?” Your mom whines. 

“Sorry, Holly, they need to keep you overnight for observation,” Steve crosses his arms. 

“But... you could stay?” 

“What about her?” He asks, nodding over his shoulder as you sit on the bench against the wall, head down as you grip the boxes of pills. You haven’t said much since she woke up, you just stayed out of her way. She only wanted to talk to him anyhow. 

“She can drive,” she pouts. 

“I drove her here and I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I have stuff to do. We’ve been here all day and I didn’t exactly plan for it,” he shrugs, “you got my number, okay?” 

“Wha-- I’m sick, how can you just abandon me?” 

“Now, Holly,” he firms his voice and drops his arms, hands on her bed rail, “don’t be dramatic. No one’s abandoning you. There’s nowhere for either of us to sleep and you need rest if you’re going to come home. Look at it like this, I’m taking care of your daughter while you’re here. Making sure everything’s ready for you.” 

“Hmph,” she grunts, “I... I’m sorry. I’m scared, Steve,” she sniffs though even from where you sit, you can tell her eyes are dry, “I’m going to miss you,” she touches his hand and rubs it, “these last few days have been... the best I’ve had in a long time.” 

“I know,” he lowers his voice, “but you gotta get better and... take better care of yourself. You want this to last, right?” 

“I.. I guess,” she concedes grimly, “can I... I get a kiss before you go?” 

He nods and leans in. He kisses her cheek, ignoring her pucker, then stands. He gives a yawn as your mom blinks up at him. She obviously expected more and you can’t tell if he even realises her disappointment. 

“Alright, sweetie, give your mom a hug, I can see you dwindling over there,” he beckons you over. 

You stand without a word and approach the bed. Your eyes meet your mom’s glare. You don’t hug. Ever. You can’t even remember the last time you did. Maybe when you were ten? You look down ashamed and spread your arms, embracing her quickly and daintily as she just lays there. 

“Bye mom, love you.” 

She pauses and swallows loudly, “love you too.” 

You spin back to Steve and slant your mouth. You know she’s only saying that because he’s right there. You cross the room as he bids his own farewell and you mom huffs and puffs mopily. 

As you come out in the hall, Steve walks beside you. You’re startled as he touches your lower back. Again. It must be a habit. 

“So, when we get home, are you going to try some of those pills?” He asks. 

“What?” You look down at the handful. “Oh, uh, maybe...” 

“The nurse said you should try. Even just for tonight. At least get some sleep while you can, you know?” 

“Yeah, er, I don’t know.” 

“Nothing wrong with accepting a little help. Especially when you need it.” 

“Mm, I guess,” you shrug, “I’ll think about it.” 

You carry on, following the halls and riding the elevator in silence. You chalk it up to fatigue on both ends. As you come out under the sky, the sun is setting. You follow Steve to his car and get in, resting the boxes in your lap as you rub your eyes. 

He turns the engine and backs out. He grips the wheel and sighs. The air is thick even as the AC blows. 

“Does your mom always talk to you like that?” He asks. 

You’re struck by the question. You know you can’t tell the truth. Even if you didn’t know your mom would lose it, it’s too embarrassing. Besides, you deserve it. You ruined her life. 

“She’s just out of it, I think,” you murmur. “Me too. I was worried.” 

“You’re a really good daughter,” he says, “a good person too. You know, you can tell me anything and I'll believe you. I’ll listen, sweetie.” 

You nod and chew your inner lip. He might believe you but he wouldn’t be able to change it. No one ever tried. Even when your aunt saw how your mother was, she only ran away. 

“Seems like you could use someone,” he steers smoothly behind another car, “what... I hope it’s okay for me to ask but where’s you dad?” 

Your heart drops. You shift and the boxes fall onto the floor. You bend forward to pick them up and suddenly, the car jerks and Steve’s pushing you back against the seat. You flatten yourself to it as your pulse pumps wildly. He’s at a complete stop as the car in front of him is only an inch away. 

“God-- guy didn’t even tap his breaks,” he snarls as he keeps his arms out, his hand on your chest, cupping you. 

“Uh,” you gulp and look down. 

He glances over and retracts his hand. He puts it back on the wheel and clears his throat, moving in his seat as he slowly leans on the gas. You won’t say anything. It was an accident and awkward enough. 

“I didn’t want you to hit your head,” he says. 

“It’s fine, thanks,” you carefully bend again and reach down to retrieve the pills. “Didn’t mean to drop these.” 

“No harm, no foul right,” he chuckles and pulls his hand from the wheel to rub his neck. “You can crash at my place if you want. Might be weird all alone in that house. Unsafe.” 

He bends his elbow against the armrest as he drives with one hand. You lean into the door and stare out the window. You really just want to go home and be alone. 

“It’s okay. I’m... an adult.” 

“Oh, I know, sweetie, I didn’t mean to treat you like a child. I know you’re not. Trust me, that’s clear,” he assures you. “I just thought... pretty girl like you home alone. Maybe I worry too much.” 

You didn’t think of it until he said something. You clutch the boxes tight and cross your feet together. You turn your head straight and watch the traffic ahead. 

“I don’t think... guy don’t...” you don’t know how to say it aloud. You’ve never had to admit what a loser you are, it’s just been obvious. Somehow, he seems to miss that. “It’s a safe neighbourhood.” 

“Sure, I guess you’re right,” he clicks his tongue. “Be weird being alone though, won’t it? You and your mom, you’re always together. Someone like me... I’ve been alone a while. Guess I’m used to it.” 

“Oh, yeah,” you agree flatly. 

“Sorry, that was... sadder than I meant,” he laughs at himself hollowly, “you know, I just never married. Always wanted to but did the military thing then the art thing and then I woke up and I was fifty. Then fifty-one and one and one...” he shakes his head as he slows down with the residential traffic, “if I can pass on any wisdom, sweetie, don’t let life run away from you. Don’t run away from it.” 

“Erm, thanks,” your tongue makes a gross noise as you swallow.  

“Just the wisdom of an old man,” he scoffs, “young girl like you, you got a lot waiting for ya.” 

You turn your head and hide your frown. You feel even worse with his empty promises. There’s nothing for you. You’re too stupid for college, you’re too useless for a job, and you’re just a shell of a person. There’s nothing in you worth a damn. 

“Sweetie, you okay?” He asks as he turns onto your street. 

“Tired,” you answer; it’s the truth, just not the whole truth. 

“Yeah, me too,” he yawns, “before you ditch me, how about you come have some dinner? You’re gonna need something in your stomach before you take those meds.” 

He pulls into his driveway and you peek over at him. Your stomach growls before you can say you’re not hungry. You flick your thumb on the elastic band around the boxes. You can’t be rude, what if he tells mom? 

“Alright,” you accept, “thank you.” 

“You’ve been through a lot, sweetie,” he reaches over to squeeze your shoulder, “you don’t have to keep being strong.” 

[graendoll]

I need Eddie to have a complete meltdown about why Buck is so into Tommy.

Like I need his brain to take him down the path of realization because he likes Tommy and they're so alike and it's so great Buck is comfortable but also why is Buck dating someone JUST LIKE EDDIE?

Is something WRONG with Eddie? It's clear Buck has a type - ex military firefighter MMA loving beer drinking Henley wearing man.

And Eddie just CANNOT let it go. Like he's know Buck for 6 years. Surely if Buck was going to have a bi awakening EDDIE would have triggered it, right?

Oh God is he jealous?

Why wasn't it him?! This is unfair and holy shit...does he want Buck to be into him? Is that weird? That's weird, right?

But fuck it if Eddie doesn't get annoyed about it the more Buck talks about Tommy, until one day while they're having a beer on his back porch he just sort of snaps and loses his filter and asks "Why wasn't it me?".

And Buck just stares at him like, "Why wasn't what you?"

"You know." But Eddie doesn't want to say it now because he feels like a dick, like one of those people who assumes his guy friend who dates men must have been crushing on him the whole time. But it still hurts and he just wants to know if there was something about him that made Buck not love him like that.

And Buck's just staring at him while he gets more self-conscious and so he just drinks more beer and thinks maybe he should change the subject but Buck puts his beer down and leans into Eddie's space.

"I didn't think you were an option, Eds."

And Eddie looks at Buck and he feels his heart start racing and his palms get kind of sweaty and he swallows and says the thing that's been crawling around his insides for weeks.

"I want to be."

[kokomyass]

Can I ask a request for genshin characters? Can you do one where the guys find out your a siren or mermaid? Like they know you have a secert but they find out by accident.

Maybe with diluc, wriothesley, kaeya, xaio, or Arlecchino and the children maybe.

Thanks. I love your work alot. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I can't wait for any update you have 🥰

heyy pookie!!! I'm so happy you came back with some characters because I LURVE this request!!

thank you so much for reading my works and im glad you like it!! 🪻💜

i have never written anything like this before and I haven't read it so I hope I interpret it correctly <3

Genshin Headcannons ☆ Genshin characters find out you are a mermaid

Genshin x Fem!Reader

Genre: ☁️

Trigger warnings ⚠️: none!!

featuring: Diluc, Wriothesley, Kaeya

Notes: you are married to Diluc, you are Neuvillette's daughter in Wriothesley's one and you are a Knight in Kaeya's one 🪻

Diluc

You and your husband, Diluc, were on a leisurely walk around the Dawn Winery.

You hadn't been able to spend much time together since Diluc had been busy with work matters and as much as he wanted to spend some quality time with you one thing or another seemed to prevent that from happening.

On his side, things like business trips, calls and paperwork stopped him from relaxing with you.

However...on your side, the odd secret that you were keeping stopped you from wanting to go out.

Of course, with Diluc being your husband and all, he noticed how odd it was for you to not want to go out at all, but blamed it on the hormones, so when you wanted to go out all of a sudden when you were both free, he didn't think anything of it, other than a chance to spend some romantic and peaceful time together.

"The weather's is so lovely, no?" you say breaking the comfortable silence between you and Diluc.

"Very much so my dear, it's nice to finally be able to go out with you." Diluc looks down at you smiling softly.

You chuckle nervously as you swing your entwined hands back and forth.

"Of course!! Everyone has been so busy recently, huh...."

Diluc looks down at you once again but this time with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yes I have been busy, but I thought you had plenty of free time." Diluc had caught you red handed as you sweatdropped.

You didn't know what to say as you flung your arms about trying to remove any suspicions Diluc may have had.

"You see honey, I am busy....but in my own- AGHH!!"

Just as you were about to give some wack ass excuses you weren't paying attention to your footpath (something you said you would DEFINITELY do) and tripped over a rock, falling into the nearby lake.

"Y/N!!! Are you okay?!" Diluc rushed to your aid jumping in the water with no hesitation despite your desperate pleas for him not to.

As he lifted you from the water his face contorted with confusion.

He held your mermaid tail in his hands, with hues of fiery red, each scale reflecting the flickering glow of the underwater sun. It moved with a sinuous grace, leaving trails of crimson in its wake, as if the ocean itself were aflame with passion.

"Diluc....I can explain-"

"Is this why you were hesitant to go out? I don't see why it should be something you want to hide? It is so elegant and beautiful, darling...."

Diluc seemed unfazed by what you thought would be a horrible shock.

"So you aren't mad...or anything?" you mumble looking away embarrassed.

"Of course not although, I'm rather annoyed all this stopped you from wanting to go out with me."

"I'm sorryyyy!!" You wrap your arms around Diluc's neck as he carries you back to the Dawn Winery slowly placing a gentle kiss on your wet forehead.

Wriothesley

"Y/N, I'm going to need you to go down to the Fortress once again."

Neuvillette (your father) often sent you down to the Fortress of Meropide to help out the staff down there- especially Wriothesley, and as much as you LOVED seeing Wriothesley, he knew you hated it because of how damp it was, for MANY reasons.

"But Dad! You know how risky it is....I've been going there so much lately." You wined whilst pouting hoping that was enough to convince Neuvillette to let you stay.

"I thought you loved spending time with the Duke, since you always come back looking all lovesick." Neuvillette smirked as he kept on writing on his documents whilst you got all flustered stomping off to go to the Fortress.

Everytime you went there you looked like you were going scuba diving and although the first few times everyone was caught off guard they seemed to be used to it.

Time Skip

"Hey Wrio! Guess who sent me down here again...." your strolled into the Duke's office casually as he looked up from his work smiling.

"None other than the Iudex, I assume. What did you do to make him hate you so much?" Wriothesley asked crossing his arms raising an eyebrow, not knowing the Iudex is actually your father.

"Eh...who knows...doesn't matter..."

You skipped up the steps and to your dismay, just as you reached the top step you tripped and landed on your face on the damp floor.

Now, in any other circumstances this would've been fine...but you weren't wearing much protective gear because you were in such a hurry, so when you grew a mermaid tail out of nowhere you felt extremely regretful.

"Y/N! Are you oka-" he stopped what he was saying as his jaw hung open.

All you could do was stare into Wriothesley's wide eyes of shock as the longest 5 seconds of your life went by.

Your tail was a delicate shade of light blue, reminiscent of the clearest summer sky reflected in tranquil waters. Quite pretty if you did say so yourself~

"....I can't believe my own crush is seeing me like this..." you mumbled looking to the ground hoping Wriothesley didn't hear.

"Crush? On me?," Wriothesley let out a hearty laugh, "Here I was thinking about asking you out on a date, but hearing that makes my job 10 times easier."

Amidst your embarrassment you felt overjoyed at the fact Wriothesley reciprocated your feelings.

"So...you aren't put off by my mermaid tail?"

Wriothesley shrugged his shoulders, "Why would I be? I've definitely seen worse and it's so glamorous."

You got so flustered at Wriothesley's compliments that you forgot you were on the floor and unable to move.

"Hey Wrio, do you mind helping me off the floor?" you asked sweatdropping.

Wriothesley laughed once again before picking you up bridal style and walking you to a chair. You rested your head on his chest before perking up to look up at him.

"Oh by the way...now would be a good time to say...Neuvillette is my dad."

He stopped in his steps, and looked down at you, "You know, that makes everything much more explicable for some reasons."

You both shared a warm laugh as you wrapped you arms around him giving him a tight hug.

Kaeya

"Y/N and Kaeya, all I need from you two today is to get rid of some treasure hoarders in Windrise....and other than that you are free to go."

"Would you look at that Y/N, it's our lucky day!~" Kaeya chuckled softly guiding you out of the Acting Grand Masters office.

You were both members of the Knight of Favonius, although you were just a normal Knight and Kaeya was the Cavalry Captain.

Even though you were ranked differently you were frequently going on missions together since you were not only romantically compatible but very compatible in battle.

"Treasure Hoarders are the easiest to fight....today will be a breeze, maybe we can go on a cute date afterwards?"

You cling to Kaeya's arm jokingly begging him to go on a date with you. Kaeya pulls out some water to drink as you stiffen hoping he doesn't get it it contact with you so some....bad...things don't happen. You slowly unwind your arms from Kaeya's and hope he doesn't notice this small action.

"Of course sweetheart, I never refuse a date with you." he bends down and places a soft kiss on you nose, walking off humming as you end up having to jog up to him.

Time Skip

You make it to Windrise, and the Treasure Hoarders seem to be dumber than others because you sneak up right behind them and they don't notice.

"Why hello there fellow people, and what do we have here?" The smirk in Kaeya's voice was so evident and the Treasure Hoarders whipped their heads round preparing for a fight.

Unfortunately for them they got taken down by both of you pretty quickly.

You and Kaeya high-five like you always do after a battle.

"That was an easy battle wasn't it?" Kaeya said as you began to walk back.

"It's always easy when it's the two of us." Kaeya smirks. You started laughing and completely unbeknownst to you a baby hydro slime was jumping up to you.

Before you knew it you got hit by the cute baby hydro slime and miraculously your mermaid tail formed. It was swirled with the deep, mysterious allure of navy blue, a bit like that of the midnight sky.

"Y/N!" Kaeya whipped his head as fast as he could losing his laid-back attitude in a second.

However, when he turned to see a baby hydro slime jumping on you with a mermaid tail he couldn't help but let out the most hearty laugh of all.

"Kaeya! Instead of standing there laughing, help me out!!"

Kaeya helped you after 30 seconds of laughing at you suffering.

He held you in his hands as he tried to find somewhere to sit so your tail would wear off. You sat in silence whilst Kaeya got some shut eye.

"...So you aren't shocked or anything?" you asked genuinely confused. You thought he would be flabbergasted.

"Haha! I knew all along sweetheart."

~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~~•☆•~

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED AS USUAL I HAVE NOT PROOF READ AND I WROTE THIS HALF AWAKE. LOVE YALL MWAHHHHH 💜🪻💜🪻💜🪻

[spookypete-94]

Heels John PricexFem!reader

Thought for a long time about who I would rather write about in this scenario. The big intimidating but loving Ghost, or our rather caring and gentle man of a Captain. The more I thought about it, the more John fit into this better. So! I present to you a short story called Heels (inspired by a TikTok I saw but can no longer find) that lives in my brain rent free.

Trigger warning for language, implied smut at the end.

Working alongside the TF141 is generally anything but boring. This time however, it is radically outside your normal specialties of defensive tactics. Commonly, your multilingual self worked with the front lines. Either making peace or declaring war with the faces of many enemies in their native tongue. Always willing to follow up with your promise of violence with your knowledge of weaponry.

You should have known something was off by the way Laswell pronounced herself half way in front of your make shift office in the hotel you were staying in, blocking herself with the other half of the doorway to what you would consider an evil plan trick. Using the entry way as a blockade hiding the tight black dress in a bag in her other hand.

"I need you to do me a favor." By her tone you could tell she was addressing something, rather delicately but still trying to be direct. Still acting strange none the less.

"A favor? Or is this an order?" Your tone not believing her, looking up at her through your loose hair and up past your eyebrows over the stack of papers you had finished for her.

She sighed seeing the direction this was going sensing your attitude.

"It's a mission, one I've already assigned you to."

"I'm finishing the last report for you and now you're sending me on another mission? What the fuck, Laswell?" You asked confused sitting back in your chair.

"You see," she said beating around the bush, "the dress doesn't fit me so I can't do it myself." Side stepping from the door frame and exposing the dress bag that was in her hand.

A long pregnant pause filled your office as your heated gaze glanced back at her, and back to dress bag.

"What entirety of a shit show have you signed me up for??" Your question booming out of your office and spilling into the hallway where Price stood leaning. He was watching the interaction of you and Laswell, trying to keep his snicker to himself. Laswell seeing this out of the corner of her eye stepped in and shut your office door hoping to save her hide from the embarrassment.

Behind close doors she explained that you were needed for an undercover mission at a gathering. One that you needed to drop off a mic that would allow them to get information on a weapons runner, however with this being a Russian party, they felt they would be going in blind.

"I'm your translator, not your spy. This is espionage, isn't that more your forte?"

"Please, I need your help and already told John we would help his team. You're the only one that can bullshit your way through this."

A loud scoff left you as you snagged the dress from her hand. Pulling the bag apart you could see the sparkly black dress. As much as you didn't want to admit it, your heart skipped a beat at something so feminine, fingers running against the fabric catching on the stones periodically.

"It's the only dress we have on base... And it's your size."

"You fucking owe me."

Laswell zipped up the back of the dress leaving you to smooth out the material trying to make it longer on your skin.

"Looks nice."

"Mm." Was the only thing your brain could come up with.

Finding some heels you kept with your pant suit you wore with, you slipped those on. They were a little risque seeming as your pant legs were long enough to cover them, but with the dress you could definitely see the red velvet on the back of the black heels. The heel, a normal 5" inch shaft with a tight point at the end. You always thought they would make a nice weapon if needed and here you might just get your chance.

Stepping out into the hallway following Laswell, you joined Price who was waiting patiently still. You could immediately feel his eyes on you. Somehow, even though the bright blue was like the frozen tundra, they were warm... like you could stay there.

"You ready?" His voice grumbled out.

"As much as I'll ever be," you said side stepping the two ready for this to be over.

*********************************

In the thick of it, you had been let in to the "social gathering". Turns out, if you dress yourself up well enough- no questions are even asked. Looking around, it really was rich socialites. Most of them made rich from their dirty deeds, or the lengths of how far they are willing to sell their souls.

But Laswell was right, the ability of your capability to bullshit your way through this, was impeccable. How grateful you were fluent in Russian.

"Nearly there," Price said being overwatch for you, seeing you make your way into the meeting room of the house where you had learned TF141's target would be assembling his counsel.

Placing your mic and wire under a shelf in a bookcase near the desk, you then quickly slipped out the door and found a way out of the party, heading back to the hotel to help Price and Laswell with translation.

*********************************

The meeting had already started once you had walked back into the office off of Price's room this time. Price offered you headphones which you had put on, closing your eyes to listen. Thankfully with were you had placed the wire, you were hearing everything. Repeating everything that was being said as Laswell wrote it down and Price made sure it was recording in case needing to return back to the information later.

As the meeting called to an end, you had discovered they were doing a weapons drop off tomorrow. Later in the evening to be concealed by dark to be exact. From the work you had done, you had the amount of men that would be there down to the amount of guns and bullets being exchanged.

Laswell stood up ready to go call this in as she squeezed your bare shoulder, leaving Price's office quickly due to their recent break through.

Doing so left you and Price alone.

"Thank you, I know that wasn't easy for you," he said getting up and reaching into his desk pulling out 2 whiskey glasses and a bottle with ember liquid.

"Glad its over, don't ever wish to do it again. Didn't enjoy it," you replied shuddering thinking about the many eyes that were on you. Thankfully you had quietly left, all unscathed and without issue. The whole idea of being in the enemies den however, was a bit much for you. You preferred it to be at the hands of combat, where everyone knows where they stand on the battlefield- not waiting for your cover to be blown.

He gave a quiet single chuckle, sliding the glass to you his way of showing his gratitude. Eventually leaning on the front of his desk near you.

"Dress looks nice, you look nice," he said making you flush but you tried to hide it with the glass he had just supplied you with.

"How funny, Captain. I had men with their eyes on me and none of them brave enough to flirt with me there," you quipped trying to break the awkward tension that was rising.

"Can you really call them men then?" The question he gave only rising your flush further. You snorted, still trying to play this off as banter- not realizing his full intentions of getting you riled. Finding the question rhetorical, you did not answer. Instead you focused on how sore your feet where from trying to almost sprint in the heels away from the lions den.

Making a grimace, you reached down to slip them off. The heavy feeling of Price's hand on your shoulder pushing you back though made you look at him wide eyed.

"What are you doing?"

"My girl can let me do that." He said reaching forward grabbing the leg of the chair you were in and pulling it towards him abruptly. The whole idea of him making a motion looks so easy made you weak at the knees... good thing you were sitting down. Large fingers around the back of your foot, slipping the heel down and off, quickly removing the other one as well.

A sigh of relief left you as you sat back in the chair but quickly looked up as Price was still standing above you.

"Captain?" You asked face now feeling permanently red and warm. Maybe it was the bourbon...

"John. That's the name you're gonna being saying tonight, love." A promise he intended to hold you to.

Making your jaw go slack, his chest reverberated in his normal laugh all while he kneeled in front of you. The sight of it all feeling like a dream to you. Slowly, he left kisses up your legs, taking turns moving back and forth on each one. Finally resting at your thighs, he pushed your dress up revealing your panties that he pushed to the side and buried his face in gently. Tongue separating your warmth.

"John," was all you could say near whisper. Thank god John kept his promises.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

it hurts me. the chaggie hurts me s o good

Vaggie having been such a great murder soldier (one of the best exorcists) (battalions worth of dead souls piled under her lost wings)

but Protect Charlie and Support Charlie became so important to her (the revelation of reaching out to strangers to heal hurts instead of causing them) she for real got out of practice with actual physical fighting bc she was busy helping Charlie with the emotional battles instead-

it feels so good.

it's such a big and happy difference, from vaggie the exorcist

she's fighting for her girl every time she holds Charlie's hand and it's NOT what she's trained for or is always good at, solving people problems without just stabbing anyone who hurts Charlie or gets in Charlie's way- soldier life bleeding through even when Vaggie tries so hard- (a life lived with the kind of people who would use cutting out someone's eye and ripping off their wings as a solution to a problem)

but she says herself she wants to be Charlie's ARMOR. she could have said spear, could have said she wants to be the blade that cuts through all Charlie's problems-

she doesn't want that. Amor, something that stays close, something not meant to hurt, something that isn't a weapon. not anymore

even if it (she) isn't used to that yet

and you know what. maybe that's what getting saved by Charlie actually meant.

Charlie didn't pull her down from heaven- she wasn't the reason that Vaggie looked at a kid in hell and couldn't go through with sticking a spear in them

but without Charlie, Vaggie could still have been a spear raised and redirected towards heaven. even after years in a peaceful life Vaggie still reaches for her spear so quick, how fast on the draw would she've been if Charlie wasn't there? hadn't been there?

(if kindness hadn't pulled her out of that alleyway, would the chance for revenge at the next extermination day have gotten Vaggie moving instead? would the first dead angel have been found years earlier- or would it have been her- a loose end that didn't unravel quietly getting neatly cut away?)

that didn't happen. Charlie was out looking to help people on extermination day. she did find Vaggie

and with Charlie, the spear is a prop more than anything else. part of Vaggie yes, probably forever- not a NEEDED one though. an old instinct always at the ready while not having to be used much anymore.

life with Charlie is Vaggie carrying a spear, sure.... and also growing out her hair. not being used to fighting with it long, because she hasn't had to be fighting

she's still been able to fight for girlfriend anyway

Charlie isn't asking power or wins from her. that's not what the princess of hells needs.

Charlie needs the hand that holds hers during a hard call with her dad, the hug waiting for her when she comes back after a bad day, the soft smile not judging her for telling herself stories when she's sad- likes that side of her, actually-

the woman who knows every embarrassing personal thing about Charlie because Charlie trusted her not to make fun of it, trusted that Vaggie loved her

Charlie needs the push of Vaggie's words telling her it's time to make that hard call to her dad in the first place, the later unshakable reassurance from Vaggie when Charlie breaks down crying before the battle (breaking down over not being able give Angel Dust the better life she promised, everyone in even more danger now instead)

and Vaggie (pragmatic, realistic, honest Vaggie) does not tell her that things will be okay and they'll win their upcoming fight- but that Charlie has already done so much.

if for no one else, then at the very least for Vaggie

Charlie really has, hasn't she. 'just' by seeing Vaggie as a person she saved her from being nothing but a soldier, a weapon, the hair trigger response of someone who learned trust on a battle field and had her body torn and scarred by the people she trusted-

but now Vaggie does the worst damage to the people who hurt her when she holds her girlfriend's hand. she grumbles but gives people chances, often stressed but just as often smiling in her new life with Charlie. she goes back up to HEAVEN (even though she really really doesn't want to) because her girlfriend takes her hand and askes her with big soft eyes and says they're partners- it's such a change from being a soldier following orders.

partnership is all Charlie's asking for

and fucking HELL if Vaggie hasn't answered by being there in the darkest moments, tugging Charlie gently back into the light of their shared dreams and the reality of having someone there to share them with

and uh, also getting charlie to call her dad

....and.... yeeting random lit bombs out the nearest new hole in their hotel, when someone hands it to her gf and charlie gets sidetracked trying to politely juggle the thing...

.....

how DID charlie manage before she equipped the smol spear gf??

[virginsexgod69]

7| Revenge Kill

pairing Daryl Dixon x F!Reader

summary As you search the pharmacy, you run into a familiar face.

cw violence, murder, mention of infidelity, mentions of child death, vague description of children as walkers, injuries, profanity, attempted theft, shitty ex husbands, i think that's it?

note i've never written fighting before but i figured it'd be like writing smut, but violent? idk man, it was a challenge. lmk your thoughts and any feedback, if you have it, would be appreciated!

2.3k words

Series Masterlist

The severity of the situation did little to strike fear into your heart. It was the end of the world, the dead were rising, and there were already so many other worries that held your focus that this felt like a huge inconvenience, rather than a life or death dilemma. A frustrated sigh left your lips as your turned to face the owner of the gun with your hands raised in surrender. The gun holder was a shabby, malnourished looking man whose hair was matted and overgrown. He looked to be in such an awful state that you almost wanted to hand him the medicines out of sheer pity. That was until a familiar voice, a voice you’d never forget, said your name in the form of a question. 

“I-is that really you?” He asked, his aim faltering for a split second. The pity you had felt at first morphed into hurt, which was quickly washed away by a wave of rage. 

“Trent?” You spat the name of your ex husband. While you were technically not divorced, you still referred to him as an ex husband and since the world ended, there were no laws to keep you from doing so. He still kept the gun pointing at you, which boiled your blood even more. 

“What the fuck are you doing out here? I thought you left!” Your voiced dripped with pure hatred and venom for the man that abandoned his family in the midst of the apocalypse. 

“I.. I did, b-but I came back.” 

“There’s nothing for you here. Leave,” you demanded. He cocked the gun and moved his finger to the trigger, fixing his aim on your head, but you didn’t falter. 

“I’m not leaving, not without that medicine.” You reached into the bag and pulled out the allergy pills and chucked it at his head, causing him to flinch and fumble to catch it. 

“That’s all I’m giving you, now get out of my fucking way!” You slung your bag over your shoulders and picked up your hammer, but his firm grasp on your arm stopped you. 

“Baby, please. I don’t wanna hurt you, but I need that medicine.” You tore your arm from his hold and swung at him, your fist colliding with his hollow cheek. He stumbled backward, almost tripping over his feet, but he caught himself on one of the shelves. 

“Don’t you fucking dare!” you lifted your hammer over his head and brought it down with full force, but he caught the wooden handle just before the metal end could greet his skull. His arms shook as he fought against your hold. 

“I’m s-sorry! Please! Don’t k-kill me. I have a family,” he begged. All you could see was red. How dare he use the family he chose to leave as a bargaining chip for his worthless life. 

“You had a family and you chose to leave them,” you growled as you yanked the hammer from him. 

“N-no, you don’t underst–” his own pained scream cut him off after you slammed the hammer into his shoulder, causing him to drop the gun. It slid across the floor and under the shelf. Shoving him out of the way, you lunged for the gun, blindly feeling for it underneath the shelf. Your fingers curled around the handle and you pulled it from its hiding place. 

“No. You don’t understand. You have no family because your kids are fucking dead!” You pointed the gun at him now as he cowered in fear, clutching his shoulder in pain. 

“Dead?” He whimpered. Tears fell from his eyes, leaving clean streaks on his dirty face. 

“Killed by the dead all because,” your voice shook as the memory of that day brought angry tears to your eyes, “because you ran away to screw my best friend when you should’ve been being their fucking father!” You screamed. You couldn’t see his own grief stricken face through your tears as you pushed down on the trigger. The gun was jammed and nothing came out. You screamed in frustration and tossed the useless weapon aside before reaching for your own gun. He tackled you to the ground before you could unholster it. He, too, was seething with anger. 

“Why are you putting the blame on me, when you’re their fucking mother!” His filthy hands encircled your throat, cutting off your airways as he sobbed. Your vision blurred, not only from your inability to breathe, but from hitting your head on the ground when he tackled you. 

“I have a baby on the way, and I know for a fact that Sierra will be a far better mother than you could ever dream of being! So give me my medications so I can make sure she’ll live to see that day.” His biting words were only background noise to the ringing in your ears. You thrashed beneath him as you tried to pull his hands from your throat. When they wouldn’t budge, you sank your nails into his flesh, slowly dragging them up his hand. As his skin tore, warm blood flowed from the wounds while he screamed in pain and reflexively pulled his hands away. You took advantage of the opening shoved him off of you, knocking him to the ground. Your sledgehammer wasn’t too far out of reach, so you grabbed it and used it as a support to help you stand through your dizzy spell. 

“She can be a good mother on her own, just like I was, because you’re not going home to your new family.” You swung the hammer at his head, but he just barely dodged the deadly hit. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t say anything that would convince you to spare his life. He deserved to die, in your opinion. Whenever you sat and reflected on your life, almost every bad thing could be traced back to him. By some odd stroke of luck he didn’t deserve, he kept dodging your hits and you were starting to become tired. You already weren’t on your A game after having taken a few hits.

“Y-you’re fucking crazy, you know that!” He hissed as he struggled to his feet. Fed up with his entire existence, you tossed the hammer aside and successfully unholstered your gun. He lunged at you at the same time you fired the the gun. The bullet only grazed him as you collided with the wall behind you. It was true that evil never dies. You ducked just in time to avoid the punch he threw at your face. You threw your entire body weight onto him, sending him back to the ground. He let out a pained grunt once his head slammed against the cold tile.  His state of disorientation served as the perfect opportunity to land a punch across his face, then another, and another. He writhed in pain beneath you as he tried to fight you off of him. The pain of his face against your fists didn’t phase you because the revenge felt too great. He deserved every bit of this pain, yet it still would never compare to the pain your kids probably felt when the dead ate them alive, the pain you felt when you came back home from a run and found their half-eaten, living-dead bodies stumbling  around around with him nowhere to be seen. His scratched up hands blindly clawed at you as he begged for his life between sobs of anguish. Those sobs were nothing but music to your ears, so melodious to you that your own sobs didn’t register to you as your own. 

“Please,” he croaked through his swollen, bloodied mouth, “let me at least be there for one of my kids,” he begged. His words gave you pause, freezing you in your position with your fists balled as you straddled his waist. Sparing him hadn’t once crossed your mind, but in that moment, you almost considered it. Almost. But that thought quickly flew out the window when he mustered up enough strength to toss you off of him, leaving you face down on the cold, dirtied tile. He roughly gripped the back of your head in his big hand, lifting it up before slamming it to the floor and holding you down as you struggled to get up. His grip released as he quickly stood up, trying to speedily limp away with your bag of medicine and medical supplies tossed over his shoulder. Dizzy and with your nose and mouth stinging in pain, you grabbed onto his ankle at the very last second, causing him to stumble. He didn’t fall, though, and instead continued to drag his beaten body toward the door, with you slowing him down. 

 You felt defeated. All this effort you put up just to lose to the same man you’ve already lost to so many times. Seeing him again dredged up so many painful memories, reopening recently inflicted wounds and scratching at old scars. Giving up would be so easy. The pain and dizziness that surged throughout your head and the coppery taste in your mouth were compelling cases on why you should. But your hatred overpowered your exhaustion. 

Finding a hammer in that boutique felt like striking gold. Daryl had found it in a random drawer behind the register’s counter, along with other clutter that was left over from a construction project of some sorts. He grabbed it and made quick work of using the claw to pry the nails from the wooden boards. Once he removed what he deemed to be enough wood, he looked around, expecting to see you standing by. You not being there sent his alarm bells ringing. There were plenty of things you could have been doing other than looking for a hammer and he knew you could handle yourself, but he’d still preferred to be safe than sorry. 

He unsheathed his knife to have it ready lest he run into any trouble. His walk increased into a slight jog when he heard the cacophony of shouts and crashes coming from the pharmacy. With his knife held out in front of him, he crept inside the building at the same he heard the thud of a body colliding with the ground. At his feet, a man holding a bag laid face down on the floor with his hands held out, clawing at the tile. You -with blood leaking down your nose and from your mouth- crawled up toward the stranger and sat on his lower back, earning a pained groan from him since you knocked the wind out of him.

“Daryl, give me the knife!” You frantically screamed with your arm reached out for the weapon. Daryl was confused as all hell, but that didn’t stop him from handing you the weapon- handle first. You muttered a thanks as you accepted it. You grabbed a fistful of the man’s ratty hair and lifted his battered face from the ground before slicing the knife across his throat. Daryl watched the life drain from the man’s eyes as the blood poured from his throat, oozing toward his feet. You let out a sigh of relief and handed him back his knife. You struggled to your feet and snatched the bag from the dead man’s hands. 

“Didn’t find a hammer,” you hunched over to catch your breath, “but I found a shit ton of medical supplies!” 

“Wha’ happened back there?” He asked as the two of you left the building. 

“Asshole tried to rob me…then kill me,” you replied, omitting most of the story.

“You okay?” He looked at your face with concern, but you waved him off and wiped the blood from your face with the back of your hand and walked ahead of him. Your head and face hurt and you were slightly dizzy, but other than that, you felt fine. Daryl was already doing enough by staying behind and helping out with your cabin, burdening him with something small like this would be too much. He didn’t seem to believe you, but didn’t press any further. 

“Found a hammer and got the wood off the door. This outta be enough to patch that hole up,” he told you once the two of you returned to the outside of the boutique where he left the wood when he went to find you. 

“Oh. Nice,” you dismissively replied. You truly were grateful, but the pain and dizziness you were experiencing made it hard to focus on anything. You set the bag down before gently lowering yourself to a sitting position on the curb. You closed your eyes and rested your head in your hands. 

“Hey. You sure you alright?” 

“Uh huh, just need to sit down for a bit before we get goin’.” 

Daryl looked around at the surrounding area to make sure there were no walkers nearby. There was a few hours of sunlight left, just enough to get back to your cabin before nightfall, but only if you left now. As for walkers, other than the odd straggler, the area was relatively clear.

“If we wanna make it back ‘fore nightfall, we should probably get goin’.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you agreed, despite not feeling any better. You stood up, the throbbing pain and dizzy spell making it difficult. Daryl dropped the wood and caught you when you stumbled. Had you not been injured, you’d have been internally squealing and giggling because he caught you and held you upright in his arms. 

“Nah, somethin’s wrong,” he commented as he examined your face. 

You weakly swatted his hands away, but they didn’t go anywhere. “I’m fine, I just hit my head once or twice,” you admitted a little too nonchalantly for his liking. 

“Think you got a concussion or somethin’,” he hypothesized. You gently removed his hands from your shoulders and picked your bag up off from the floor. 

“We should stay here ’til mornin’ so you can get some rest.” As much as you wanted to push back , to disagree and keep going, you knew you needed the rest. He took the bag from you and picked up the wood boards before leading you into the boutique.

note hi, it's me again. with finals and graduation season coming, updates are gonna be a little slower (not that they were very frequent before lmao). i thank you all for your patience <3. also i have my AP Lit test tmr, so wish me luck =[

THANKS FOR READING!

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Taglist @eternalrose81, @the-dixon-effect, @millybabyy, @daryldixmedown, @theoraekenslover, @aeriean, @lesbian-horror-fan, @paintlavillered, @zhannamustdie, @thegeorgiahuntsman, @bigbaldheadname, @Lumi362, @lettersfromyourlover-blog, @princesssparkel2024, @tiny-marie

[soixxiesuix]

UNRAVEL-T•Kaulitz

⚠️!!Trigger/content Warnings!!⚠️

The following includes:

Mentions of r4pe, sexual manipulation, trauma, flashbacks, crying, and insecurities.

This will also include sexual content as in: heated kissing, clit play, palming,[basically foreplay and what not], finggering, and afab reader.

Summary: Tom and his girlfriend finally have the moment they've been waiting for, until the reader is met with troubles that prolong this. Tom, being the good boyfriend he is, is there for his love. Its basically a rape/sa comfort aswell for insecurities:]

▪︎READ UNDER CUT▪︎

Tom was always a caring boyfriend. He gave you the affection you needed, texted you every day while he was busy with tours even if the text was short. And he even knew what you liked about certain foods, the boy was smitten.

He also knew, that technically, you were a virgin. He would joke about it from time to time given his playboy/ horny face persona for fans, but he knew what it was like to be nervous. Even if he seemed confident, he was actually a bit nervous himself in the bedroom.

He understood your confliction with having sex. You told him you wanted to wait for the right time, as you were 100% sure he was the right person.

But you couldn't help but feel somewhat scared.

What would he think of your body? Would he find it disgusting? You weren't exactly the beauty standard.

He had told you numerous times you were his, and vise versa, but it still lingered.

That was, until later that day.

You and Tom had been out shopping for some necessities, facial care, shampoo, etc.

And.

Of course, new underwear.

You always liked how cute Victorias Secret set were, lacey and docked out with bows, it was perfect.

You tried on various sets and ended up buying 3.

One, was a hot pink, littered with rhinestones made of fake gold. The second was a lepord print with a cute g string. And last, was a set riddled with white lace and two bows. One on the bra in the middle, and one right above your goodies.

Of course Tom had to see what he was working with. And he approved, not that you needed it anyway.

After you payed, you just thought what the hell, and put on the lacy pair. Oh how cute you looked!

But later, Tom did say a little something in the car.

"I cant wait to take all of that off of you."

Already in the heat of the moment, you lying on his hotel bed while he fiddles with the sides of your waist. He feels and looks for every curve in your body as he kisses and whispers to you sweet nothings.

You, being the sensitive gal you are, are letting out the tiniest gasps and moans as he memorizes the feel and warmth of your body.

His calloused hands reach further and further down, tickling your stomach. Your hands however, lay around his neck and play with his new black braids. They felt tight but smooth like silk. You liked them. You even more so wanted to tug on them the slightest but you didn't since you didn't want to hurt the man.

Tom now has his hand slipping into your panties. His fingers start to play with your slit, rubbing against you, TEASING you.

"Tom!"

You whine and pout.

"Please dont be like that!"

He only chuckles as he continues his little endeavor.

"I'm only making sure you're ready for me beautiful. And look, you're so wet I can feel my fingers slipping."

As he says that, he starts to bring his thimb to your clit. Rubbing circles while his middle and ring finger work into your hole.

Fuck, it felt so good, you just HAD to return the favor. Slowly, as you take off his baggy shirt and your own, you move your hands along his abs. They felt so good against you, like your hands were meant for him and him only. That thought only amplified in his mind as Tom felt your hands rub against his dick.

This led to him subconsciously using his hips to rub against you himself.

Everything felt so good, clothes were now on the floor leaving you both bare and in your undergarments...

It was all good.

Until he slipped off his boxers and pulled out a condom from the hotel bedside nightstand.

That is when you came into reality. There it was. Big and throbbing, waiting for you.

It scared you. As a way to comfort yourself you put your arms around your waist, only to feel your own flesh. No. Wait.

Not now. Why now? Of all times you had to cry...

Tom stops in his tracks as he sees the hot tears spill from your eyes, your face now hot and your body curling into a ball.

"Schatz? Whats wrong? What happened? Are you not ready?"

God why did be have to be so sweet? Here he is getting almost blue balled and he's concerned about you?

Sniffling, you look up at him. In truth, you were scared. Scared because your body and your mind were at war for this situation. You wanted this, you know you did. But memories on memories came flooding into your mind as you saw his cock.

"Tom. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to ruin this for you, I want this so bad but I just cant-"

"Hey, its okay. Just tell me whats wrong. Okay?"

He cuts you off, holding your face in his hands while he kisses your hot tears away from your warm face. Pulling you into a hug, he looks into your eyes and you nod. Finally agreeing to tell him the truth.

You told him everything. About your experience with someone who manipulated you into doing what they wanted when you were just a child. Even going far as family members. For years too. The thought of sex scared you because you didn't want something like that to happen again.

Not to mention you didn't find yourself attractive. You told him that you think you look like a pig. And ugly pig. That's what your family has called you. Ugly, lazy, and ungrateful.

He was appalled.

He never thought his gorgeous girlfriend would go through such things.

But he can't do much, other than to kiss you better while he hugs you the best he can. All he can do is apologize for the things that happened to such an amazing girl like you.

"I'm so sorry my love. I would be scared too if that happened to me."

He whispers. You look up at him, your tears now failing to fall as him being there for you was more than what you expected. It felt nice. It felt like a whole new emotion.

"Tom. I wanted to tell you sooner. But I was so scared. I didn't want you to think that I didn't want anything to do with all of that. But I do! I want to love you the best I can, I want us to have kids, I was us to become one entirely... I'm sorry I've made you wait so long for something as silly as this."

Tom gives you the sweetest kiss he can, hand under your jaw as he looks at you lovingly.

"You protecting yourself isn't silly baby. I promise."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Finally, you give him one last hug and kiss.

Then, you begin to speak again.

"What would you say if I made it up to you? For stopping."

"I wouldn't say no."

A smile grows on the German man's face as yours gets lower and lower.

Ah we are finally done!! This is one of my first fics and I think I did an okay job:] I haven't made one in a few years and I wanted to make this one a bit special!! I do need to work more on my writing but I did this within an hour so.

Anyway, if you've had this experience yourself, always seek help or if not I am here always<3

Bye bye<3

[darkwolf989]

Fighting For Control (Valentino x Employee Reader, Valentino x Wife Valentino x Daughter)

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING.

Eating Disorders. Eating disorder Treatment. Valentino.

Valentino sat off to the side and gazed at the stage. One by one, his dancers strutted down, swung their hips towards him and gave a smile. Casual dress was required for this particular cat walk. Despite being known as one of the most ruthless bosses of hell, he still needed to make sure his girls were healthy, and taking care of themselves. After all, it was just bad business to have his girls passing out in front of clients. He nodded in approval as each girl walked, seeming pleased until one of his dancers seemed to wobble down the stage.

A frown crossed his face. Reader. 

He knew when he hired her she would struggle with adjusting to a more comfortable lifestyle. And now as he took in her two loose braids, oversized sweater and jeans that he noticed last week were falling off her hips, alarm bells were ringing. He waited until the rest of the girls finished and then leaned over to the demon next to him. 

“I need reader in my office. Now. The rest of the girls are free to leave. And tell the nurse’s office to be on standby.”

Truth be told, he suspected when he hired her that she suffered from an eating disorder. Most of his girls did at some point in their careers. The majority of them came from a traumatic past, a life of fighting to survive. It was only to be expected that in this new line of work, the removal of that constant stress occasionally manifested in less than ideal ways. As he walked back to his office, he considered how he should handle this situation. In his early days, he would have simply forced her on the scale and if the number that flashed beneath his displeased him, he would have sent her off to the hospital for treatment, with the understanding that she could return only when she demonstrated progress. After all, he had a business to be concerned with, and an image to uphold. 

But now he had his own teenage daughter, one who struggled with her own issues surrounding food. Following her through therapy, working with her during family dinner time, and holding her as she cried because the little voice inside her head made her think she wasn’t good enough, would never be thin enough, pretty enough, had changed his entire perspective on both the illness and its treatment. He was thankful his experience in the field helped him catch his little girl before she was in as rough shape as reader clearly was, but his experience with someone he loved certainly made him a bit softer to his workers who were struggling. He took his seat in his chair as he considered his options. Separation of work and home- this wasn’t his daughter, or his wife. This was his employee. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t show compassion to her- concern and care. After all, she was battling a monster he had only glimpses into. 

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. 

“Ah. Come in,” he called. He studied reader as she walked in. Her hair was back in two loose braids, a useless attempt to hide her hair loss. Her jeans were practically falling off her hips with each step she took. Her tee shirt and oversized cardigan were recognizable defense mechanisms- armor she was desperately trying to hide behind. He knew he needed to come from a place of concern, or he would be shut down instantly. 

“Take a seat muñeca, ” he said, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk. 

She did so reluctantly and her eyes averted his gaze. “Did I do something wrong, sir?” Her voice was soft. Frightened. 

“No, bebita. You didn’t do anything wrong. But I am concerned about you. Tell me the truth, doll. Is everything okay? Are the other girls treating you alright?” He asked. 

“Yes sir, they treat me fine,” she muttered. 

He considered how to approach this. Looking at the big picture, she was relatively new to him. She didn’t really know him or his methods. Softness, first, he thought was the best option. “You’ve been with me for how long now…three months?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you live in one of the flats with the other girls, yes?”

She kept her gaze down. “Yes, sir.”

“Are you finding the essentials sufficient? Your room, clothing, food?”

That got a reaction out of her. He watched as she switched to defensive mode at the mere mention of food. His heart sank. Part of him wished his suspicion was inaccurate, but her behavior simply confirmed his fear.

“Yes, sir. Everything is fine. Can I go now?” 

“You may not.” He stood up and pulled a scale out from his desk. “I’m noticing a concerning pattern of behavior, cariño. I need you to step on the scale for me, hm?”

The defensiveness overtook her. “No.”

He expected such a reaction. She needed to be reminded who was in control here- it was her best chance at survival. The red chains sprang forward and wrapped around her wrist, bringing her to him. 

“I own you. You will do what I say, when I say it. And that includes this. Understood?”

He watched the familiar battle unfold. Unlike his daughter, he had control over this demon. More of the ability to save her from herself. He released the chains and he nudged her to the scale- the one that wouldn’t flash the number on the base, and instead send the data directly to his phone. Another trick he learned with his daughter. Without another option, reader stepped on. 

He checked the digits that popped up on his phone. Valentino felt his stomach drop. The number was by far one of the lowest he had seen. Guilt spread through him, anger at himself and this illness. He should have been keeping a closer eye on her.  He only hoped the threat of his contract would be enough motivation for her to comply with treatment. Technically speaking, he could keep her alive. But there were parts of an eating disorder he couldn’t control.  

“Alright, babydoll. Step off,” he said quietly, sliding a hand under her arm. “And sit for me.”

Terror spread across her features. “What is my weight?”

Valentino looked at her evenly. “Too low for me to comfortably have you on my stage, bebita.”

“But what exactly is my weight?” she begged. 

“You need to let me worry about that, sweetheart,” he replied evenly. He knew better than to get combative. After all, he was the one in control here. Not her. And he certainly wouldn’t let her illness work its way in. “Let me be very clear with what will happen next.  I’m going to escort you down to the nurses office. From there, you will be hospitalized until that number is in the healthy range.”

Reader crossed her arms. “You can’t do that! I’m an adult!”

“Oh I can. I own you. Or have you forgotten that?” He leaned forward, “And I refused to let one of my most promising dancers starve herself into nothingness.”

“I eat, Valentino. I do! Please, just let me go home,” she begged. “Please! I’m fine! I swear!”

He looked at her softly. “You’re not fine. That much is clear. Come along now. I’m taking you whether you fight me the entire way or not.” 

Normally, he would have the nurse meet them with a wheelchair for a number that low, but she was already so frightened. His heart ached for her, for the pain she was going through both physically and mentally. He slipped his hand under her arm and guided her down the hallway. She seemed to shut down in his grasp, a quiet, fragile doll. 

“You will do what they say, you will eat what they tell you and you will not fight them, do you understand?” He asked once they were in the nurse's office. He sat her on the bed. “We’re going to get a gown on you. Arms up.” 

He carefully pulled back her sweater.  She sat stiffly, not actively fighting him but also not helping him in any way. He tugged off her t-shirt and bit back the gasp that threatened in the back of his throat. Emaciated wasn’t a strong enough word. 

He kept his touch gentle as he tied back the gown and helped her lay on the bed, but inside, anger bubbled. This disease, this illness was something he couldn’t eliminate, as much as he wanted to. He watched and listened quietly as the doctor as he came over and began to work over her. After a few moments, the doctor turned to Valentino. 

“Two thousand calories, through her nose to start,” the doctor said. “And we’ll get her into therapy right away.”

He wanted to tell the doctor to talk to her, not to him. But that illusion that he was in control, not her eating disorder, couldn’t be broken. Valentino turned to her and to his surprise, she looked furious.

“Five hundred. And no feeding tube.” She shot back. 

The doctor looked at Valentino and Valentino bit back a sharp word. It wouldn’t help anything for him to be angry.

. “This isn’t a negotiation. What the doctor says, goes. The only choice you have is if you take this willingly or we keep you too sleepy to fight.” 

His words seemed cold even to him, and he honestly suspected that that was an empty threat. He doubted her body could handle anything extraneous at this point. But by the expression on her face, she didn’t know that. 

“Valentino, no please,” she begged. “I’ll eat more, I promise.”

“Then prove it,” he replied sternly. He laid a gentle hand on her forehead, “I want to see next week's weigh in significantly higher.” 

Her tone hardened. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“You do not.” 

“Fine.” 

Valentino watched as the doctor slid the tube into her, biting back the frustration that was building in his chest. Flashes of his own daughter being threatened with the same treatment raced through his mind.The threat was enough to scare her into his arms, sobbing and making the same promises. He was thankful she had kept her promise, and came home that day, willing to consume what the doctor prescribed. To an extent, of course- but they worked through it together.

Finally, once reader was settled, he watched as she closed her eyes. She had to be exhausted. He hoped she realized now that she was in a safe place, and they were on the same side, but he doubted it. Which was fine with him- he didn’t mind being the enemy for the time being.  

“Will she make it?” Valentino asked as they stepped out of the room. 

The doctor shrugged. “She should. She’s lucky you are so…attentive to your employees.” 

Valentino felt his expression harden, a mask to protect helpself and his reputation. “It’s bad business to not be. I’ll check in on her tomorrow. If she needs anything, let me know and take care of it the best you can in the meantime. I expect updates- this one shows promise on my stage.” 

And with that, he turned and walked out. The clock on his watch said five, and he needed to go home. Exhaustion swept over him, feelings of helplessness and the worry that that could have been his daughter. His wife. Both struggled with their own body issues. The desperate feeling of anxiety overwhelmed him. He checked both their vitals on the app he had synched to his phone. The numbers were fine, but just checking wasn’t enough. He needed to see them, needed them in his arms, and needed to make sure with his own eyes that they were safe. He walked from the elevator to the door of his wife’s office. He pushed open the door without a knock and closed it behind him. 

She looked up from her computer. He smiled as he took in the sight of her. Pretty blonde hair pulled back into a loose bun. Blue light glasses to prevent headaches. And an outfit that she could dominate the entire world in. 

 “Hey honey, what’s up?” She asked as she stood up. “Everything okay?” 

He pressed his lips to hers and wrapped her in his arms. “Just a long day.” Even to him, the words sounded flat. He pushed her head to his chest and held her against him for a heartbeat. He wasn’t ready to talk, not yet. At the moment, he just needed to hold her. 

She gave him a knowing look. “Mhm, sure. Bed tonight?” 

Of course she knew. He knew she knew. And she wouldn’t press the issue, not until he was ready. Or until bedtime. Whichever came first. 

“Is our baby princessa home or did she stay late at school?” He asked as he slowly released her. 

His wife pressed her cheek to his and gave him a nuzzle and a kiss. “She’s in her room last I checked. Why? Did she…”

“No, no. I just want to see my daughter,” he replied quickly. “Go back to work mi amore. So you can come home sooner.” 

She looked at him with concern. “You did have a rough day. Let me finish up, I’ll be home in an hour.” 

He gave her another kiss before letting her go back to her work, and he made his way upstairs to their own floor of the V tower. Their home they shared with his two best friends. Down her hallway, his daughter's door was closed and he hesitated for a moment but knocked anyway. He needed to see her, for his own sake.

“Baby Princessa? Are you awake?” 

“Daddy? Yeah come in, I'm working on my homework.” He heard her reply. 

He pushed open the doors of the once pink room. Now everything within reflected her current interests. Blacks. Grays. Reds. Purples. Not too different honestly than her Aunt Velvette’s. It was an adjustment, watching her grow from a little girl to a sullen teen, but he was grateful she had the support, love and anything else she needed.

“Hi bebita,” he walked over and kissed the top of her head. “How was your day?”  He expected to be met with sullenness, an implied go away, Dad, I’m busy, that so frequently laced her voice these days. 

To his surprise, she turned around and beamed. “It was long Daddy, but look I got an A on my Spanish test thanks to you!” She excitedly handed him the paper, “look! I even got the bonus words right!”

“Ah, pequeño amor, I am so proud of you! You did the work. Not me. But come here, give your papi a hug.”

She stood up and practically ran into his arms and jumped up as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and held her for a moment, feeling her weight in his arms. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. She was okay. She was healthy. They still had plenty of time together to be sure they had stamped her eating issues early on in life.

“Daddy, are you okay?”

The sound of her concerned voice broke him from his thoughts. He gently released her. His daughter was okay, and she would continue to be okay. 

“Yes, bebita. Come on, let’s pause your homework. Mom should be home soon, and let’s grab Aunt Velvette and Uncle Vox. We can go out to dinner and celebrate that A. How’s that sound?” 

“Deal! Thanks Dad!” She jumped up and wrapped her arms around him again. “Best Papi ever!” 

That he wasn’t so sure of, but he accepted the compliment anyway. 

At dinner that night, he watched how much she consumed. How she reacted to the arrival of dinner. He searched desperately for hints that her issues were making a headway. To his relief, he saw nothing- no sign that her illness was anywhere close to showing its ugly self. 

He laid in bed later that night, the weight of his wife’s head on his chest as he filled her in on the events of the day, his worries, his fears. His concern for both reader and his daughter. It felt good to get it all out, to have his other half to share life with. 

“I just, I wish I had acted sooner,” he finished. 

“But the doctor says he thinks she’ll be okay?” She asked as she pressed her lips to the center of his chest. “Then that’s what matters.”

“It could have been our daughter,” he said aloud. “I didn’t see any sign of it at dinner tonight, but it could have been her lying in that hospital bed. It could have been her so close to death.”

His wife sat up. “That’s really what’s bothering you, isn’t it? Not just the fact that you’re seeing your own employees- which lets admit, Val, you’ve started to give a damn about, but also seeing your worst fear for your own daughter blossom in front of your eyes.”

He nodded and followed ensuite. “I keep seeing that image of her, she was so thin it was terrifying. If I was even a week later…”

“But you weren't. You got reader into treatment on time, and are doing everything in your power to help her beat her illness. And, my love, our daughter is fine. We are doing everything we can to make sure that she continues to beat this. She’s in weekly therapy sessions, hell we haven’t had a dinner fight in almost two years.” She took his hands in his. “Val, you can’t beat yourself up over this.” 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He hated this, the lack of control The feeling of helplessness. He wasn’t used to this feeling- Valentino was all about control. 

“Babe, where are you going?” His wife asked. 

“To check on our daughter.”

He pushed open the door to her bedroom and to his relief, he saw her curled up under her blankets, fast asleep. He stood there for a second, watching the rise and fall of her chest. He looked at his phone for the second time that day. Her vitals were fine. She was fine. Reader would be fine. He felt an arm wrap around his waist and he looked down at his wife. 

“She’s as perfect as the day she was born,” his wife said softly. “Come back to bed, Val. She’s okay.” 

Valentino allowed himself to exhale and back in his own bed, he laid his head on his wife’s chest and closed his eyes, allowing the sound of her heartbeat to fill his ears. “Mi amore, why do the people in my life not see the beauty that I see in them?” 

“Val, I wish I knew the answer,” she replied tiredly as she held him. “But I don’t. But I can tell you that you’ve done enough for today, you did the right thing for reader, and you, my love, need to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, I promise.” She shifted herself under him and gripped him tighter. “I’ve got you. Now sleep.” 

He closed his eyes and allowed sleep to wash over him. His wife was right. Reader would be okay, and his daughter was okay. He would take care of them all with everything he had.

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Someone is Calling Him Shorewards

“There’s a storm coming.” The stranger’s words are torn neatly away by the wind like India paper from a Bible, but Crowley reads them on his lips. No shit, he thinks. He nods and shoves his freezing hands deeper into his pockets as icy rain stings his cheeks. Silly idea, wandering up here as the black, roiling clouds coursed towards the shore. The waves are white-tipped and boiling, and any sounds not snatched up by the wind are swiftly claimed by the steady rumble of seawater crashing against indifferent cliffs below. 

Length: 61,467 words

AO3 Rating: Explicit/ Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥

Best for: At Home, Angst, Mystery, Human AU

Triggers: Main Character Death (but happy ending!)

Read it here, fic by harlotofgod

*Minor Spoilers* Oh please don't immediately back out from that MCD warning! This is such an amazing story that I promise has a happy ending. I will put a spoiler explanation behind a cut if you need to see if this is for you! This is such a gripping tale of mystery and unending devotion.

I really don't want to do my usual plot summary because I think it's best to take this one as it unfolds. What I can say is that I am in awe of this story, and I loved every moment of it. In the barest summary, it's a story of a human Crowley and Aziraphale living on a remote and stormy island, brimming with its own ancient magic. The island is a character itself, the landscape perfectly and beautifully described. It breathes with a life of it's own. There are moments of heartbreak, but also light and love. Haunting and healing. It made me laugh just as much as it broke my heart. Their jokes were a much-needed breath of humanity and joy. Everything about this story gripped me, and I got completely lost in it. I read it so fast, my hunger to know more taking over, but looking back it's insane how much story was contained in only 60k words. It uses its prose so effectively. Every bit feels deliberate and yet effortless.

There are some pretty steamy sex scenes, plus with the heavier moments, I would save this one for at home. But really I suggest a binge read. If you can devote the time to read this in one sitting, I highly suggest it! This is an instant classic for me.

Read it here, fic by harlotofgod

Full spoilers below to explain the MCD tag

FULL SPOILERS: In this story Crowley dies by drowning and his ghost returns to Aziraphale during the island's storms. By the end he is brought back to life, though he cannot leave the island. There is one scene of him reliving his death.

[beansricejc]

WIP WHENEVER

tagged by @scarlettspectra @discoscoob & @gea-chan96

so actually I ended up sort of finishing the WIP I was going to post… it was meant to be a short & sloppy one anyways lol

[kinda dumb but this song helped me out - don’t ask]

WICK’S MOTEL

cw: john’s a peeping tom

A few hours had passed, and the exhaustion from driving for 8 hours has finally kicked into your body. You opt for a nice steamy shower, taking in a deep breath to clear out your stuffy nose.

The man at the desk was pretty… hot, you suppose. You just aren’t exactly sure why he out of all people is running a motel in the middle of nowhere. Of course this is one of those classic ‘don’t ask don’t tell’ joints. Ever since escaping your toxic ex, you’ve mastered the art of evading, and these places weren’t new to you.

Even though you weren’t a criminal, your fellow motel guests definitely were. Drug lords, mobsters, low level robbers and get away drivers. Honestly anyone in the game, you’ve probably accidentally bumped into at one of these places.

John certainly knows how many times you’ve been here. Or any other off brand Continental motel in the general region. After faking his death, he had to go way off the map. And cutting his hair was one of the only things he could do to help evade watching eyes.

But John was the watching eye at the moment. Unbeknownst to you, he’s taken a particular liking to the woman who checked in today. He’s checked you in about 5 times now, you leave the place clean and don’t make any trouble. The perfect customer.

If only you knew that this time, he gave you the room next to where he stays.

Your tits in this shower look fucking phenomenal. Your hands massage your breasts, working in the soap to create a lather in order to wash yourself. The foam of the bar makes its way to your nipples, even sliding down to your soft tummy. A good lather, the steam blowing into his eye, your voice humming some pop song, and watching your body, all naive and wet.

All for him.

What once was a building mistake actually gave himself the ultimate peeping Tom hole. Right into the shower of the hotel room next to his. Hidden by a simple framed picture, he was able to look in at any moment he chose.

John’s teeth dig into his bottom lip, tasting copper as his hand pumped his shaft. He’s unbelievably hard, wondering what it would be like to fuck you against that shower wall. To come up from behind and pull back the curtain, feasting his eyes while you screamed in shock.

In another world you wouldn’t scream. Scratch the scream. He needs this to be perfect.

In a perfect world you’d be his girlfriend, or secret lover.

Who cares?

You in this shower was the best thing he’s ever seen. The soap slips from your hand, and you’re forced to bend over, giving John the best possible view of your cunt, ass, and upper thighs. You’re so, perky. Silky smooth. Supple.

So fuckable.

John covers his own mouth as his hand twists the head of his cock with a tight grip. His hips buck forward, reenacting the movements he would be doing behind you in that shower.

That’s when you let out a soft moan, just from unwinding in the heat of the moment.

It’s like music to his ears. Your simple noise triggered something in his body, and the way his cock twitched in his grasp let him know of his impending orgasm.

John goes over the edge, he bites the skin of his palm, eyes rolling back into his head as heaps of milky seed shoot from the head of his member. Just thinking of you on your knees, smiling excitedly, eyes crossed just getting a closer look at his orgasm, it did wild things to his brain. He hoped you were a freak, using your fingers to wipe what he left on your cheeks, nose, lips, etc.

Picturing you sucking on your digits that are full of his cum really seals the deal.

The shower turns off, you wrap a towel around your soaking wet frame, and step out of John’s line of sight, proceeding to brush your teeth.

John catches his breath before looking around him, cursing that he didn’t put a new Kleenex box in his secret corner.

tagging: @rosevette @iovesia @cuddleyhoney @treedaddymcpuffpuff | sorry if you were already tagged!

[mochiajclayne]

thoughts on naruhina + boruto and their...family

Will preface this by saying that this is a combination of observation and analysis and if you don't agree with me, take this with a grain of salt and scroll away.

(If you're a naruhina/nh shipper, do yourself a favor and scroll away because this isn't your cup of tea.)

Personally, it's almost emotionally triggering for me to watch the NH family because it reminded me of what my family dynamic used to be and witnessing it unfold in the sequel from a viewer's perspective made me realize how dysfunctional it is and what could've been done better.

Let's start at the issue at hand: Naruto not coming home, being too busy as Hokage to the point that he misses important family events like birthdays.

Boruto's reaction to the issue is realistic, especially to a kid that doesn't understand. I'm not saying that Naruto doesn't have a contribution to that mess at all (it's worse when you realize that he would rather be in his office worrying about the number of headbands than be with his family but that is a separate discussion that I will dive on in the near future, among other things). Basically, he wanted his father to be, well, present, so he does everything to get his attention. And no, those pranks aren't pointless. Being a Hokage means attending public functions and being involved with the community and what's the best freaking way to get your dad's attention by embarrassing him while on the job (which happens to be the same thing that stands between him being a good father)? Now, this wouldn't escalate into massive proportions like cheating-on-the-Chunin-exams level if Hinata was able to placate and explain things to her son.

In terms of explaining, there are several things to consider:

realizing the issue

being logical about the reasons

seeing eye to eye with your kid, emphasizing on how your kid perceived this issue emotionally and determining what they want

not making excuses and stating the reasons in the perspective that your kid can understand

openly communicating the issue to the ones in concern and expressing your stance on this, hearing them out, and reaching a consensus (or a conclusion)

But the thing is, Hinata herself doesn't see the problem, thus eliminating the chance to see her kid eye-to-eye on this particular issue--given that they aren't on the same page from the start. It's baffling as well as concerning to see that she doesn't have any qualms with her husband making a secondary residence in the Hokage Office, sleeping on the couch and not on their shared bed, overworking himself to the point that even his freaking advisor tells him to go the fuck home, would rather eat cup ramen than enjoy a home cooked meal, and the tipping point: is okay with her husband sending a clone to celebrate their daughter's birthday.

And her telling Boruto that his father is the Hokage and it's a busy position pretty much doesn't cover how fucked up the issue is. Boruto could easily counter that with well Shikadai's dad is the Hokage advisor but he can go home so what's stopping mine from doing the same? In short, she keeps on excusing the behavior which in turn gives off that Naruto prioritizes the job the most and their family clearly comes second and oh my, does that sound so appealing on a child's ears? Definitely not.

The point is, a kid would go through drastic measures to find the assurance and approval that they need especially if it wasn't provided to them. The pranks stopped when Sasuke entered the picture. He was able to talk to Boruto about his dad. Give opinions about Naruto as the person, not just someone in a high position. That's exactly what Boruto needed to hear.

Now you may wonder why Sasuke was able to do this and not Hinata? That's because Sasuke pretty much understands Naruto and he is able to provide more input about Naruto outside of his achievements and position. Not to mention that Sasuke pretty much took Boruto under his wing to train him if he wanted to defeat his dad. And one thing about Sasuke is he isn't pretty much holding back when he calls out Boruto, something I've noticed that Hinata wasn't able to do. Watching the scene of Sasuke scolding Boruto in front of his own mother is pretty funny because why is your husband's best friend giving off mother more than you?

[narcissisticpdcultureis]

NPD culture is... HOW ARE YOU GUYS FINDING OTHER NARCS???? IM SO UNBELIEVABLY JEALOUS !! I WANNA BE OPENLY CARTOONISHLY EVIL !!

(NPD does NOT make one evil but goddamn sometimes these thoughts are too funny and sexy to keep all to myself and it'd be nice to have an outlet and to get supply for even the worst side of me. and once the supply time is over we could break it down and figure out what might really be going on behind the mask. maybe initially viewing it as something more silly and lighthearted would be a good start to being more self-compassionate.)

My mind is soooo creative and fun and id be so adored as a morally grey fictional character but in real life i want to be good. i want to be good and to be good i need to feel like maybe im not bad maybe what they say is true, these narc highs have deeper meaning and there are triggers and needs i have that need addressing.

.

[xerotiny99]

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day // Our Precious #6

The Lewd Rituals of a Typical Day. (Our precious #6)

M.list | Previous | Next

Pairing: main - Park Seonghwa x Reader. Side - Reader x Jeong Yunho, Reader x Kang Yeosang

Warning (for all parts): smut, hardcore smut, soft dom!seonghwa, dom!yunho, dom master!yeosang, sub!reader/slave!reader, breast stimulation, teasing, biting and marking, DD/LG, seonghwa has a feeding kink (does not overlap with fat fetish), praise kink, food play, unprotected sex, fingering, cock warming, thigh riding, nipple play, bits of master-slave dynamic, rough sex, manhandling, cum play/cum shot, dirty talk/degradation (just know yunho has a filthy mouth), size training (vaginal), etc.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by any aforementioned tags. Not proofread.

Gist: it's the weekend and you finally get the time to spend it with your so called "boyfriends".

Total Word Count: n/a

Taglist: @t3kandson @therealcuppicake @sebastianswhore13 @solisyeah

[a/n:] thank you so much for 190+ followers. really appreciate it.

Part Two [6.2]: Down on My Knees - Kang Yeosang x Reader

Warning: master/slave dynamic, slave!reader, master!yeosang, wax play, use of Ben wa balls/kegel balls, use of ropes, rope bondage (hojojutsu tie), deep-throat/throat fucking/blowjob, cunnilingus, etc.

Song rec: Drip by Black Atlass

Gist: Yeosang gives you a glimpse of his eccentric kink. Let’s say, he’s one intimidating man behind all the innocent facade he puts on.

Word Count: 11,122

           How did you end up in this position? Kneeling in front of him, arms bound with a thick rope and held behind your back, and the seemingly innocent ruse he paints on; in his make-believe world, you're supposed to be looked down upon, and he's supposed to have the higher ground to assert his dominance. He wasn't fooling anyone with his charming demeanor, and you indeed hadn't been fooled by his undisturbed personification. Who knew, Yeosang would be one of the wild ones, the kind who are quiet and gentle, who speak less and listen to others talk, the ones who make their opponent believe they know everything about them when in reality they know nothing about them.

The two of you were trapped in a trance of silence, both taking up the empty space adjacent to the bed. A little further into his room, you and Yeosang were both busy with your own things; he eyed you like a predator would eye his prey, and somehow, it seemed to arouse your worst tendencies. A strain in your forearm aches against your posture, making you curl your back into your stomach, and the hemp rope bites into your skin, creating irritated scratches; Yeosang's tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth the moment he hears you whimper. You hold onto a breath of yours, until it's forcing its way out to blend in with the dense air of this room. The dread follows you, lurking in your mind; you could sketch out a rough outline of Yeosang's mind, of his needs. He needs control. He likes it a little too much. Which would explain why you were kneeling in front of him, with your arms shackled in some rope to restrict any movement of your body.

"Did I tell you to stop?" he growls, sighing a minute later, "from the top, again."

You groan, voicing your frustration, "I promise, I'll be good next time. Just let me continue. We've been over this for the longest time, I'm tired."

"Rules are rules, kitten." He rasps, lowering his voice down a baritone, "now, from the start. As I said before."

Exasperated, you straighten up and stare up at him. There he sat on a metal chair, hungry eyes trained on every movement of your body. He sits poised and stoic, putting most of his weight to the side as his elbow which rests on knee. His legs are crossed over one another, and he subtly keeps brushing his fingers under his chin as if he were to be in some deep ponder about life. For a man to be this ethereal, was a crime. And you wouldn't base your judgment on the fact that he was a man, but rather on how meagre his efforts were to delineate his grace. How can a man wearing a simple tank top and jogger shorts, appear this elegant?

Yeosang's lips curve into a silken smirk, almost like a trace of smugness caressing his face before stranding his mien with an unbearable hint of thirst. His soft brown eyes yearn for a taste, for a quick nibble of your bare chest which was on a hankering display. When his silence murmurs louder in your ear, you take a deep breath and scatter your attention across the floor; there laid sheets of black print, words etched in a continuum. Back to the first page, to the very beginning. You had read through the first page ten minutes before. There goes your ten minutes of hard work and patience.

This was a tortuous nightmare which seems to be never ending, a situation having you kept astray in a void of fear and anticipation, tickling every being of your flesh and bones. It doesn't matter how dedicated you are to him, he will find a way for you to lose, for you to give in to your ailing state of mind. So far, he had succeeded in making you feel small, belittled your presence.

Time stands still in this room; all air is knocked from your lungs when proceed to enunciate the first few words on the first page.

"We the undersigned parties, recognise and accept the submission of Moon Angel, hereafter called the 'slave' to Kang Yeosang, hereafter referred to as the 'Master', in a relationship of," you trail away, almost losing your voice, "relationship of voluntary servitude hereafter called 'slavery'."

In this blighted state of affairs, you're in a constant dilemma, whether you should've read and signed the contract beforehand, or not. To your better understanding, it would have been hundred times better if you had just taken out the time to read and sign the contract before. All this humiliation would've been avoided.

"Go on," Yeosang nudges you with a husky undertone laced to his words, "we've got a lot to deal with here, kitten."

Shaking your head, you swallow thickly to wet your sore throat before continuing, "by this instrument, Master agrees to direct, train and dominate, the Slave for Master's pleasure and benefit." 

Why were you aroused by this? You'd hate to admit it, but you were soaking wet from reading this so-called contract, by picturing the words jumble up on a pretty risqué imagery in your mind. In an attempt to alleviate the strain in between your thighs, you squeeze them, quite tightly for your cunt to rub against your flesh. Yeosang doesn't let your venture go unnoticed by him; rather, his lips lilt into a haughty smirk, playing the descant game of tease in his head.

Regardless, you press your lips together and mumble, "the slave's tenure will begin on the day of signing this agreement and end on the last day of the twelfth month after the day of signing. A review will take place every three months."

"Do you have any doubts till now? Perhaps, some questions which have been troubling your mind?" he asks, relaxing back into the chair and spreading his legs wide.

"Not really." You respond; however you couldn't resist peeking at his cock when he spread out his legs like that.

You catch the glimpse of his erection protruding through the flimsy material of his shorts; gauging by the outline, you could tell he had an impressive size.  Which doesn't really seem to be one of your biggest concerns at the moment. You should be instead, worried about what the future holds for you. It was easy to shrug off every possible leeriness you faced, up until he had asked you to fetch the contract from your room and meet him in his own.

Things went south. Quite quickly. Everything was a blur of moment, seconds dragging to something lesser than them, seizing to nothingness as time paralleled to nix. You entered his room, the dimly lit abyss of ambiguity and confusion; a queen-sized bed in the centre, draped in red silk sheets, and the curtains to the window stayed drawn together to filter out any natural light seeping in. His room was dark, and devoid of any unnecessary things. Even more peculiar, his room did not allow any sounds from the outside to saunter in and vice versa.

The entire aesthetic of his room was an enigma, an elaborate conundrum which would put anyone in a bewildering position. A desk remained shrouded in the dark by a corner, and two separate closets were bound to a side of the wall; one of them was locked with a silver padlock, and it also harboured quite a few intricate pieces of cravings in the wood. The other closet was basic, laminated with a much basic plywood. There was a door situated to the left side of the bed, presumably the bathroom, and to the right of the bed, was where the closets, and desk were located.

After spending the first few hours of the morning with Seonghwa, you were dragged by Yeosang to his room; on the way to his room, by the stairs, you came across Wooyoung who had then groggily greeted you before turning a side eye toward Yeosang. That, somehow, itched Yeosang in a wrong way and awoken something feral in him. He wrapped his hand around your waist and pulled you with him, not caring if you fumbled in your steps or were even capable of keeping up with his pace. First, he pushed you in your room, asked you (in a growl) to get the contract he had given to you and then he dragged you into his room. When the locks behind you clicked, your heart dropped to your gut.

Yeosang's sheer strength was enough to turn you on, enough for your cunt to start dripping at the thought of the other things he was capable of doing to you. He could easily manhandle you, throw you around like a puppet and bend you to his words. Inspecting your body then, he walked around you in circles, until he got too riled up to contain himself. He had ripped your shirt off your body, technically speaking, Jongho's shirt, and now it laid strewn on the floor in tattered pieces.

Many more things unfolded after that, he asked you sink down on your knees, he got himself a red-coloured hemp rope to tie your arms behind your back, and then he dragged a spare chair over in front of you and slid himself onto it. He sprawled the contract papers on the floor, for you to read through them, loud and clear.

And so here you are. In a probable dehumanising position.

"Your restraints aren't too tight, are they?"

"No..." your lips quiver, arms struggling in the hold.

They weren't tight or as uncomfortable as you thought they'd be; though, the rope was biting into your skin and chafing it every time you moved only as to little. You were quite astounded by Yeosang's preferences, and how he dabbled in the art of Japanese bondage called shibari. There's something about him you couldn't place your finger on yet. Regardless, the moment he started looping the rope around your arms and your back, you were crumpled down to pieces.

To Yeosang's eyes, you were a treat. He pities you for not being able to see how luscious you looked with the red ties scattered on your back, and around your chest; the rope did in fact loop around your forearms and crossed at the back, it formed an intricate pattern of a star with how it was tied. And in the front, it ran parallel to your chest, the rope running under and over your tits. Nothing could've stopped him from drooling at the sight of you; you on your knees, half naked and body shuddering ever so lightly every time he glared at you.

"The slave must reveal all appropriate thoughts, feelings and desires relating to servitude without hesitation or embarrassment," he states, clear and firm, "I'm going to ask you again. Are your restraints uncomfortable?"

"No," you reply, confidently.

"As a slave, what must you refer to me as?" he poses another question, still sounding resolute somehow.

"Master."

"That's my girl," he praises you, a smile breaking out on his face before he leans over to whisper, "I did not tell you to stop reading. Please, carry on. My patience is running out."

You take a breath of relief, knowing he hadn't tormented half of your being by forcing you to read everything from the start. But you were also transfixed by his words, by his presence. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you clear your head and proceed to read further on.

"This voluntary servitude may be renewed at the Master's discretion with the slave's consent." you take another breath in, and continue, "It is agreed that this period of slavery will be under the Master's direction and control and will be subject to the following conditions."

Yeosang hums along with you, "let us keep those conditions to ourselves. Why don't you read them in your mind and let me know if you have any concerns regarding them."

You take his suggestion well, spanning your eyes across the printed letters and comprehending them in your mind. As the time passes, the restraints start tugging you down; it was overbearing to hold the straight posture for all this time. Your arms had started to ache as well, going sore from having no freedom to move them around. However, you still held it in, held on the very little of your patience and dedication to get through this.

Reading the conditions, you could tell he curated his preferences perfectly on the paper. The conditions stated were beneficial to both parties; most importantly, they took the slave's gratification into consideration.

"Is everything understood so far?" he murmurs, peeking at you.

You raise your head and nod, "yeah. I think I got the gist of it."

Yeosang hums again, but his jaw clenches slightly and your gut knots itself, "I meant, yes master."

He smirks, "good. You're getting the hang of it." Tracing his thumb under his lower lip, he pulls himself off the chair and takes a few steps closer to you. He crouches down, his aura buzzing around with a certain heaviness, "I want to punish you for not obeying me. I had asked you way well in advance to read through this contract, hadn't I?"

"I'm—I'm sorry, I know should've done it—"

"—don't waste your energy on apologies, kitten. The time's gone."

His fingers pinch your chin and tilt your head further up, forcing you to meet his eyes; the dark, sullen, dour eyes of his show no emotions, not until a spark of lust and carnality breaks out. You gulp, audibly, squirming your thighs together to ease the tension between them. Beyond hope, you knew you had soaked through your shorts, you were sure Seonghwa's cum had slicked out all the way through along with your own arousal.

Dense air in the room leaves you to suffocate on your spit, while his lips caress the tip of your nose and drag along your cupid's bow. He presses a soft kiss against your lips, mumbling them in a haze of sheer want and need. When he pulls back, he adorns a scornful smile on his face, tugging his cheeks softly into his eyes.

"Get on your feet for me." He drags his words to a whisper, "now."

The authoritative tone flips a switch in you, turning your rationality off and switching on your submissive mind. He straightens up and takes a step back, watching your helpless-self struggle to get on your feet. You stumble while trying to bring yourself up from your knees, and the way your arms were shackled behind you, it seemed almost impossible.

Yeosang extended no hand for help, he quite enjoyed the show you had put on for him; a belittling chuckle is trapped in his chest, while his arms are folded over. He waits a beat, for a second to cross the threshold of your clumsiness before he leaps in and helps you up; there it was, his warm hands bracing against your waist, pulling you up on your feet and stabling your wobbly stature.

"Come here," he holds one of your arms and guides you to the chair; the contract sheets lay untouched on the floor, starting to flutter to the winds brought in by the ceiling fan. "Stay still, hmm?" he murmurs from behind you, his warmth painting an untamed desire on your back.

You nod, whispering, "okay."

Before you could voice your other concerns, his presence dithers away. Listening to some shuffles around in the room, you turn your head to find him unlocking the closet which had intrigued you before, the same closet with a silver padlock and intricate carvings on its wooden panels. The doors creak softly at the hinges when he opens them. Amid the pointless dark and silence, you observe him, noticing a soft glint of something metallic in his hands. You were unaware of what he had retrieved from the closet; bewildered, you continue to stare at him as he grabs a couple more pieces from the closet. Stricken by a haze of wonder and despair, you whimper under your breath. Tremors brush your skin, trickling your flesh with an ecstatic desire.

You press your lips together, preventing your needy groans from slipping past your lips; his footsteps ascend to you, while an object rattling in his hand. He stands in front of you now, fixing himself behind the chair to dump the things he was holding in his hands. As he is steadying himself back, you catch a glimpse of his smirk fleeting on his plump lips. When he straightens himself, you notice the objects spread on the chair.

A candle. A pair of what seems like, silver balls, alongside a small capsule-shaped button or something. And a silver plated lighter having a butterfly engraved on it.

A quick flick of lighter turns the flame on, he proceeds to light the candle; the wick burns with vigour, providing to the subtle morning light which had already begun to fade in from the window regardless of the curtains being drawn together. He sets the lit candle on the small desk, located next to his bed, right behind him. You must've failed to notice this one before, not that it matters now because you're too fixated on him, on his actions and what he tends to do with you.

"Ever seen this?" he muses, picking up the silver balls in his fingers.

Letting them dangle from his forefinger, he shows it off to you. It was your first time coming across them. The two marble sized balls were a half an inch apart from each other connected with a fine chain link; they appeared small and delicate.

"No," you mumble, "what are those?"

"Rin-no-tama," he pronounces it in a perfect harmony, and shrugs, staring down at the shimmering spheres hanging from his finger, "or orgasm balls." His eyes meet yours, "don't worry, they only create subtle stimulation. It's more of a teasing device than anything intense."

He strings out his words so casually, lips quivering with a vague smile. Taking a long stride around the chair, he comes to stand behind you; the balls clatter gently against his hand when he holds them by the long tail of chain adhered to the one of them. Your mind is a complete mush at this point, overridden with enthusiasm and anticipation. One of Yeosang's arms comes to tangle around your waist, while the other sneaks up your back and comes into your view. Right in front of your face, he holds the two orbs, their chrome shade alluring and intriguing.

"Open up," he whispers, nudging the balls closer to your lips, and pushing them till you're willingly opening your mouth. "Good kitten."

You moan at the praise; however, it's muffled by the tiny little spheres in your mouth; he continues to push them, trying to settle them deeper, and as he does, the tip of his fingers too sink in your hot and wet mouth.

"Cover them up nice and warm," he suggests, "they'll be going inside you."

Another desperate groan tempts to slip past your lips, but you bite down on it and continue to suck on the balls in your mouth. Yeosang's fingers plunged a little deeper than before, forcing the orbs further down your throat; he hums in satisfaction once he thinks it's enough. Offering a subtle tug on the chain he held onto, he pulls the orbs out and lets them dangle in front of you. They're slick with your spit; a thin layer coats their surface and translucent saliva strings adhere to them in a perfect curve. You squeeze your thighs together, melting at the thought of him stuffing those balls inside you.

"You get really eager, don't you?" Yeosang teases, slipping his hand from your waist to in between your legs; he slaps your thighs apart, and then proceeds to tug on your shorts. "Since it's our first time, I will keep it...easy for you."

As the last bits of his words dither in your mind, you had failed to notice how in one swift motion he had torn your shorts off of your waist. First the shirt, and now your shorts. Both laid littered in pieces on the floor.

"What do you mean—nghhhh!" your voice clamours to a moan, a sudden gelid sensation urging you to close your eyes and revel in it.

"Oh, you know," Yeosang grins, "take things slow with you." He bites down on his lower lip, addressing to you in a mumble, "relax for me, will you. Deep breaths."

Listening to him, you take a deep breath in, your anticipation pulsating past its limit. A second ticks, and he nudges one of the spheres against your folds, eventually dragging them along your slit to slip it in your cum-filled hole; the first orb stretches only so much, burning the pit of your stomach in a momentary heat. He tugs further on the dainty chain holding both of the spheres to have them fit snug in you. The warmth of his fingertips disrupts the peace in your heart; nifty tremors spread across your spine when he pushes two of his fingers in, delving them deep and gently pressing the balls further inside. If you could be honest, the cold sensation of the balls and the drifting warmth of his finger was wrecking your mind, giving you the sensory stimulus you needed so bad.

"Fuck—it's cold," you moan, rolling your hips down on his hand to let his fingers plunge further.

He clicks his tongue, immediately pulling his fingers out and offering one of your asscheeks a light squeeze.  "You're not supposed to enjoy your punishment, kitten."

"I'm—I'm not," you stutter, knowing well you were lying to him.

"Really?" he emphasises, groping both of your asscheeks and spreading them apart, "the way you were grinding down on my fingers, it said otherwise."

"I just—I need something more to—need something more to feel..." you trail off, going speechless for the moment when the heaviness of the balls settles in your cunt.

"No, kitten," he slurs, "you don't need anything more."

Yeosang glances at his fingers, coated with your juices and Seonghwa's cum from before; he honestly has no problem with it, and speaking in all fairness, he's used to this kind of plight. Watching the translucent fluid coat his fingers, he lets his lips curve to a conceited smile before bringing his hand in front of your face. His other hand stays tangled with your waist.

He clicks his tongue and prompts you, "lick these off. It's yours and Seonghwa's...afters."

Eager, you open your mouth and let him stick his fingers in; a familiar salty and bitter taste coats your tongue, with tender underlying tones of sweet. Enjoying the warmth and the sloppy confines of your mouth, he thrusts his fingers in till he's knuckles deep. You lap your tongue along his fingers, nonetheless, sucking them clean. Offering a few kitten licks to you his rough fingers, you muffle a whine when he pulls them out with a vile 'pop' sound reverberating around you two.

"Such a good kitten," he muses, "cleaned my fingers with her tongue. She deserves a treat, she really does."

His absence leaves your back, which alerts you and prompts you to straighten up slightly. And with that subtle movement of your waist and your back, your walls to clench around the metal orbs. A curt whiplash of arousal crawls up your spine, making you hiss at the furor which spreads across your body, rather quite instantly. Yeosang's face comes into your view; a face worth admiring, a face you could never get tired off. His eyes nurture a sense of slumber, and his plump lips are seemingly too kissable to deny the urge. The gorgeous man in front of you, standing right behind the chair, which was stuck between you two, had dubious intentions inscribed in the brown specks of his eyes.

Leaning in close to you, he cups your face with both his hands and nudges the tip of his nose along yours; he traces it down to your lips, only for a hot second before ghosting his own on yours. In the next minute, his tongue darts out and swipes under your lower lip. A smile fleets on his face, his eyes glimmering with an untamed desire. The grasp of his hands surrounding your face tightens, holding your face in one place as he abates the distance between your lips. A brush. A delicate brush of his lips wanes you to a complete silence, and it soon blooms in your chest, slipping out of in you in the form on a whimper. Yeosang's lips start lapping up with yours, dwelling into a heated kiss which starts mellowing out every sane thought in your mind.

For the time being, struck with his lips and his hands, you forgot your hands were tied behind your back, you forgot about the rope nicking your skin and leaving red marks behind; you were immersed in the way his lips moved with yours, how he softly grumbled when you tilted your head and deepened the kiss. Breathless, you kept it going, you kept your lips on his while his tongue prodded past them. Yeosang pushes his thumb pads into your cheeks, forcing you to heave a gasp and allowing him to push his tongue in. The slickness of his tongue wraps around yours, tackling it in the further warmth of your mouth.

He moans, sounding it from his chest when you start sucking on his tongue. You push his sloppy muscle out of the way and shove yours down his throat. In the despair of your body, you're slithering beyond to caress the tip of your tongue against his uvula. When his gag reflex kicks in, he groans and pulls your face away from his.

Out of breath and panting softly, he smirks, "my kitten is so desperate." He pushes himself back, continuing in a mere whisper, "come on, we've still got five pages to read over."

Tugging you to the place where you were kneeling before, he forces you to get down; without much hesitation, you oblige to his demand and sink on your knees, the stray sheets of paper kissing your bare skin. The metallic spheres which were sheathed deep in your cunt, fidget with your walls and stroke your arousal. You gasp when the balls plunge in the steepest part, only for the time you were adjusting yourself on your knees.

Yeosang grins to himself, watching you squirm and struggle to keep your spine upright. Hunching over, you fail to notice him extending his hand to wind it around your throat; with a simple and steady jerk, he forces you to meet his eye, his lips encasing one of the most impish smirks ever. His fingers dig deep into your skin, denting it with his mere strength and painting it with little crescents of his nails. The more you stare at him, the tighter his grip becomes around your throat. You choke on your spit, mouth falling agape to the torrid desire of breathing. In all seriousness, his fingers and thumb were pressing against the right places on your throat.

"Eyes on me," he growls, "when you're with me, I want your eyes on me. At all times. Exceptions would be—" he trails off, "—when you're blindfolded, or in any position which makes it uncomfortable for you to look at me." Letting silence speak louder, he bites his lower lip and waits for you to answer. And upon getting none, he snickers, "what do we say, kitten?"

You couldn't really get your words out, not when his hand continued to clasp around your throat, tightening every second and causing your walls to convulse into each other. The worst part, however, was when you writhed to the enthusiasm of getting choked; every time your body shuddered against the floor, the balls inside you built your arousal to its brim.

Regardless of your throat turning dry, you croak, "yes master."

"That's what I like to hear," a smirk splays on his lips, while he loosens his grip on your throat. A sudden wave of concern washes over his tone, "you should let me know if I'm crossing any limits, Angel."

You shake your head, coughing, "it's—I'm fine—I'm fine, really."

"Are you sure?" he asks, a smile wavering on his face before it is replaced with a straight line, "next time we meet, we'll be setting our boundaries. You need to tell me what you're uncomfortable with and what you're okay with. Got it?"

Nodding your head, you weakly string out, "yes, master."

Yeosang seems satisfied with your answer and pulls himself back on his feet, letting go of your throat; he towers over your slouched shoulders, arms folded over his chest as he coaxes you with an encouraging jab of his head.

"Continue. From where we left off."

His footsteps descend down the meagre dark beside his bed; he grabs the candle from the desk adjoining it and carries himself back to you. For a minute, in your state of bemusement, you gawk at his veiny hand which wraps so delicately around the candle. And later when the minute of confusion passes you like a dream, you come to terms with what he has planned for you. Yeosang's lips curve slightly with every step he takes toward you, his eyes glinting with mischief and lust.

"I can't hear you, kitten." He teases, "I'm assuming you've had hefty breakfast in the morning. Gonna need you speak a little louder, kitten."

You shift on your legs, sitting with a comfortable posture, distributing your weight equally on your calves before his words lash on you and make you squirm, causing the balls to twist and turn around in your cunt. The budding tension in the pit of your stomach is too much to contain; if only there was something more to unravel you. Biting on a moan, you nod your head vigorously and swallow some of your spit down to wet your dry throat.

"The slave hands her," you read the next page in line, eyes tearing up gradually from the pleasurable ache pounding at the walls of your cunt, "the slave hands her training over to her Master."

"Hmm," Yeosang hums and displaces himself behind you, "go on."

You're too focused on the reading to notice anything out of order. "The Master may give his slave 'free periods', be it in the Master's presence, where the slave—the slave may express herself openly and freely."

"That's right," he hums, his presence warming up to your back when he leans over slightly, "hmm, carry on."

Heaving in a deep breath, till it convulses your lungs into each other, you proceed, "there will be no punishments applied during these free periods. However, it is understood that the slave will continue to address her master with respect—ah fuck you."

A hot sizzle crawls down your back, trickling further and farther on your skin; the hot sensation traces a mere inch, and it dissipates to a steady streak of coldness. Muffling a whimper, you give yourself a little time to comprehend what had happened.

Candle. Wax. Hot wax. Hot wax on your skin.

You draw your shoulders in, and then roll them out, focusing on reading. As if you could really concentrate on the task at hand, when he is fixated on pouring the melted wax on your flesh. The burn of the candle grows intense on the crook of your neck, while his other hand lingers up and down your spine, dipping down the curve and then pulling back up.

Yeosang clicks his tongue, "you know the rules, kitten. From the top. Again."

You despised hearing those words, those exact words which caused you so much torment and frustration; if you could, you would pick yourself up the floor and leave, but sadly the contract states the otherwise. The contract states a lot of things, all of the phrases are now ingrained in your brain. Of course they would be, you've read them countless times. Even so, with all that you've read and spent your time reading, you hadn't gotten to the end of it yet.

"Please," you whine, "you caught me off guard." Squirming on your feet, your knees itch with an urge to unfold yourself from your position. Though even when the thought of you doing that crosses your mind, the balls in your cunt move, and wreck your body with the soaring pleasure. "Let me read, let me continue. I can't go back and read it all over again. I'm tired."

Yeosang sucks on his teeth, "fine. Let's put a stop to this. Don't worry about the reading for now, just relax yourself and take deep breaths whenever I tell you to."

From the back, he pushes the contract papers aside and they scatter further away on the floor. You're steep in anticipation, partaking in the little games he was playing with you. And to your surprise, he loops one of his arms around your waist and pushes his chest into your back. His other hand, holding onto the candle, comes in your view for a meagre second before it drifts down your chest. Peeking over your shoulder, he directs the candle towards your collarbones, right by the centre. As the wax on it melts, a few drops trickle and trail between your tits; you hiss at the burn, throwing your head back onto his shoulder and closing your eyes shut.

"Does it hurt that bad?" he chuckles, "you're such a pathetic liar, kitten. I know my way around this, the wax isn't even that hot, is it...?"

You press your lips together and nod, whimpering, "but it—but it scares me to not know where and when you'd..."

As you trail off, he chimes in, "when I would drip hot wax onto your skin, hmm?" he stifles another chortle and presses his lips against the crook of your neck, "well kitten, that's the whole point of it, isn't it? You anticipate, live in the thrill—doesn't that get you all hot and bothered?"

His hand which had been around your waist, slides down your lower abdomen and belly to trace circles on your mound; you bite back another whimper because his cold fingertips urged to graze further down to rub your clit. Pressing in circles, his middle finger dips along your slit, the sensation making you mewl. When he presses a little harder, the walls of your cunt tighten around the ovoid device fit snug in the deepest part of you. Yeosang groans the moment he feels your juices and Seonghwa's cum coat his sleek- long finger. He rests his forehead against your shoulder, containing his very urge to shove two fingers into your puffy cunt and saw you out as you deserved to be.

"Yes—yes, it does." You squeak, catching up on your slipping tongue and the hitching breath.

Speaking of truth, you were certainly beyond bothered. This session was dragging on in a painfully slow pace, and you wondered if this is how it's going to be with him at all times. Though, you couldn't completely deny that you were enjoying yourself, just as much as he was by toying with you. Yeosang doesn't utter another word and his warmth strays off your back; the intensity of the candle grows stronger on one of your tits, and before you could react to it in anyway, a good and hot wad of wax trickles down your fleshy tit and taut nipple. Pressing your lips together, you prevent yourself from whimpering to the searing heat, but it soon cools off and hardens around your skin, moulding perfectly. 

"Yeo—" at the verge of spilling his name out, you catch your tongue but it's too late, the sweltering wax is already leaking down on your chest.

"I do not recall giving you the audacity to call me by my name." His chuckle is long lost in your ear, "you need to learn, kitten, that, bound in these four walls, I'm your master. Do you understand that, or I do need to fuck it in your brain?"

You swallow the prickly lumps forming in your throat, and nod with an eager look, "yeah, yeah—I understand, master."

"Such a good kitty, she deserves to be treated, doesn't she?"

The nods of your head grew softer but still remained eager; as your foreboding anticipation would crash over you, Yeosang trawls the candle across your chest and continues to do so until he's painted perfect rivulets of crimson wax on your skin. Alluring shade, intricate patterns branching outward on your skin, it was a piece of art how the melted wax framed your chest. You tilt your head to catch a glimpse of the red streaks, captivated by his work. Yeosang grumbles a string of incoherent words, sounding a little off in his satisfaction; you keep yourself from whimpering his name, and shift about on your folded legs. There it was a blinding spark of tightness roiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Please, please, please..." you chanted in your haze of desperation, wanting to be relieved of your misery.

The man leaning against your back, clicks his tongue; his presence starts to dither, the warmth cascading down to a cold breeze of nothingness. He's off and up, the candle disappears from your line of sight, and it fills up with tears. You may not like to admit it, but you were really close to letting go of all the tension in the pit of your stomach. A simple nudge would be enough for you to come undone. Though, in the darker side of your mind, you couldn't foretell any of Yeosang's further moves. Sullen in the state of stillness, you take a deep breath and let the nifty moments roll out. And to your surprise, you find Yeosang placing the candle back to its rightful place; he turns on his heels, the meagre light illuminating a haughty curve of his lips.

"If my memory serves me right," he drags his words into a whisper, "I remember Seonghwa boasting about the head you gave him."

"Is it true, Angel?" your brows scrunch together in bemusement. "I would need to know it for myself, how well your mouth takes me in."

You gulp. Audibly enough for his smirk to lilt on his lips, stretching into his cheeks. "Say ah, kitten."

He prompts you with a mocking tone, having stood in front of you now. You tilt your head up, raising it high to meet his ambiguous eyes, drifting further apart into the dark intentions of his words. Without hesitation, you slack your jaw and open your mouth; all sounds are stuffed back into your throat when two of his fingers push inside your mouth. Pressing the pads of his fingers against your tongue, he pushes them further into your throat. The calloused yet soft skin of his fingers leaves an eerie sensation on your tongue, but you gulp it down and begin sucking on them.

"So warm and soft. Can't wait to have this mouth around my cock," he grumbles, throwing his head back slightly, "you know what, kitten? Why don't you show me what you can do with your mouth. Fuck my fingers first and then I'll decide whether this mouth deserves to have my cock in it or not."

A part of you was extremely pushed into this corner of desires and arousals; it wasn't just a dream for you, and even if it was, you were living it. Did it happen every day that you'd stumble upon an innocent man, seemingly unbothered and unfazed by mere interactions around him, only to find out he's much filthy in his mind than he shows himself to be? No.

Yeosang's way of teasing and slurring his words was turning you on more than you had ever expected. You squeeze your thighs tightly for your cunt to detangle the tension it was sparked with it. Though, it only made matters much worse because your feeble actions had made the balls inside you to create tremors in the pit of your stomach. Contemplating his words, you start sucking harder on his fingers and hollow your cheeks to constrain them in your warmth.

"Fuck," yeosang grunts, peeking at you through his half-lidded eyes, "wonder why I made you—fuck, kitty—" you lap up your tongue around both his fingers, pushing the tip over and under, "—should've ruined this mouth instead of making you read a pathetic little contract."

You hum in response, the gentle vibrations stifling around his fingers. Noticing, he coos, "aww, you agree too, kitten?" his lips curl, menacing a thrill in your stomach, "hmm, I need to know if you deserve my cock, or not."

Taking that as a challenge, you become determined and suckle his fingers deep in your throat; he doesn't resist and pushes into you. There's spit leaking out of your mouth, trickling down your lips and staining your chins with perfect opulent rivulets. He's caught admiring how you had started to choke on his fingers, screwing your eyes shut to help you alleviate the discomfort. You weren't exactly put in a state of unease, but you knew you'd take some time to get used to it. Yeosang's fingers weren't as sleek or long as Yunho's. They were rather girthy and veiny, taking up the entirety of your wet mouth. He keeps scuffing them on your tongue, fingernails digging in your fleshy muscle as he drags his fingers out of your mouth. The moment he's gotten them out, you cough, urging it all from your lungs before lurching forward.

"I'm convinced," he states, licking the fingers which were just shoving down your throat a second ago, "your mouth was made to please a cock."

As the wispy tones of his words dissipate in the air, you hear the soft scuffling of his shorts being pulled down; you peek back up, ravenous gaze creeping up his feet, thighs and then to his exposed pelvis. His shorts and briefs pool around his ankles, and he takes only a meagre second to step out of them. The next thing you know, his silly little tank top is discarded next to the pile of his bottom wear. Honestly, you wondered why he even wore that nifty tank top when it covered almost nothing of his chest.

"Master..." you spluttered through your chest, scoffing up the bits of spit and drool strings coating your chin and lips. "...be a good kitten—suck you off."

At this point, your brain was a mush. A complete mess of carnality, oozing past every limit. You felt lightheaded, and it wasn't because you had been staring, or slobbering at the sight of his cock resting against his lower belly, but because of the two very prominent and pronounced balls moving on about in your cunt. Realisation hits you harder than you thought it would; the balls kept rolling and screwing you over inside, painfully edging you to your orgasm. But they never pushed you to the very end of it.

"Yes, kitty. Patience," Yeosang lulls his words, "I'm just as eager as you to ruin this pretty little thing."

You watch him, helplessly, as he uses one of his hands to wrap it around the base of his cock. He gives it a few pumps, dragging his palm along the shaft to the reddened tip. While his other hand eases up to cup your jaw and his thumb hooks into your lower lip. His fingers rest under your chin, and his thumb prods at your lower jaw; you willingly let your mouth widen.

"Be a good kitty, hmm?"

You nod, shifting yourself on your knees to crawl closer to him. The stinging ache of your bounded arms was starting to turn forgettable. It was all too sudden, easy even, to forget about the pain when you were focused on something else. Here, getting your throat wrecked by him and his cock. Yeosang's size was impressive, really impressive; you don't find any joy in comparing lengths, but he'd easily be two inches above average.

"And I heard from Jongho that you..." he trails off, tugging up at your jaw to force your eyes on him instead of his cock. "...you like staring at—is that true?"

You want to shake your head and deny his petty allegations, but his thumb hooked in your mouth keeps you from moving even an inch. He pumps his cock a few more times before aligning the tip against your mouth. Having propped it opened with his thumb, Yeosang slips into your sloppy warmth without any effort, sinking down on his hips and pulling his hand away from your mouth. You feel the stretch on your lips, not much, but it's still there to remind you how well he had stretched your mouth open with his cock.

A lowly growl peeps from his chest, and he bottoms out in your mouth; soaked in your wet and warm spit, he closes his eyes shut and bites down on his lower lip. "Let me—fuck, so—kitten's mouth is so fucking warm—fuck, kitten, let me know if I can move or not."

You don't really have any mode to indicate him you were ready; so, you push your tongue to the top of your mouth and lick up a stripe under his shaft.

"That's a good kitten," Yeosang smirks, tangling the fingers of his both hands into your hair and pulls you away. "Gonna take my cock deep in her throat, isn't she...?"

With only his tip in your mouth, you rub your tongue around it and he growls which rings out to a chuckle, "fucking hell. Seonghwa was right, this tight little thing can really take a cock in."

He starts pushing on his hips, and you willingly swallow his cock. Reaching deep enough, the tip of his cock brushes over the roof of your throat, triggering your reflex gag in an instant. You choke on your spit but continue to slug his cock further down in your throat. A moan strangles itself in his chest, his mind going numb to the tightness and the warmth of your throat. Yeosang hurls his head further back, his neck arching to a perfect curve while his eyes stay shut tight; you peek up at him, your own gaze shining with tears and innocence. A tiny fracture in time coaxes him to compose and turn his attention on you. You're stalked by his predator-like eyes, every movement, every blink of your eyes, every breath you hitched out of your nose; at a point, you were starting to suffocate on his cock.

"Good kitty," he praises, his voice startling you a bit as it turns softer and melodious. "Sucking my cock so well."

He lets his cock stay buried in your throat for a minute more before pulling back, not completely out, however. You moan in response and flatten your tongue under his shaft, keeping it unmoving for a while. Yeosang fists his hands in your hair, guiding your head down on his cock to let it plunge deep again. The pace of him toying with your head is, steady and slow, easing out every time you gagged or choked on his cock the moment it reached your throat. One of his hands disentangles from your hair and traces around your throat; his thumb pushes right under your jaw, feeling a faint bump of his cock through your skin.

"Can you feel it, kitten..." he growls under his breath, "can you feel my cock—ah fuck—can you feel my cock bulging around your tight little throat?"

You groan, hollowing your cheeks and sucking him in deeper. He gets the answer he was hoping to get; his other hand still twined in your hair, lowers your head on his cock till your nose is scrunched up against his pubic bone, his soft and tender skin tickling your lips and nose. He was well groomed.

"That's more like it," he whimpers, tightening his grip around your throat to exert an additional pressure; it constrained the walls of your throat around his cock, tensing up your muscles. "A pretty mouth for my use."

You really wished you could voice out your pleasure as well. Though, that becomes a lost possibility when he starts thrusting himself back and forth in your mouth. You keep your cheeks squeezed around his cock as the pace of his thrusts picks up. Yeosang's lips part when a hoarse moan slips past them and his eyes screw shut at the feeling. One of his thrusts falls out of rhythm and he slips out of your mouth; glancing down at you, he clicks his tongue, and you eagerly wrap your lips around the tip of his cock. You lower yourself, without needing to be pushed by him. Struck with passion, he rolls his hips into your face and his cock is back in your throat, snug and warm.

When the tip of his cock brushes on your tongue, you taste a slight hint of bitterness from his precum and swallow it down. Spit dribbles out of your lips when he pulls his cock back, slithering onto your chin and further below; he clenches his jaw, the pace of his thrusts surging and continuing to be more spontaneous. He kept plunging his cock deep into your throat, kept your head steady by intertwining both of his hands in your hair. Tears well up in the corner of your eyes; his ruthlessness and roughness were too much for you to handle. You push your conscience through it, squirming in your place when you are struck by the heaviness in your cunt; the balls, they shuffled along your puffy cunt and teased a knot in your gut. Yeosang's hips rattle against your face, every time he pushed you down, your nose would get rumpled by his pubic bone and that would leave you no chance to breathe. Your lungs burned with the need in your chest, your body slowly starting to convulse to his animalistic lechery. With his every thrust, your chest would heft out, and the puddling streaks of wax would fall off your skin and onto the floor. He would go harder, he can, and he was about to; you knew it well, tears stain your cheeks and drool drips down your chin, drop by drop, eventually falling onto the floor. Clinging onto the last breath you scoured to take, you shift on your knees and the orbs fitted snug in your cunt, give your gut a little nudge to make you cum.

You were close. So damn close. It was starting to turn into a painful endeavour than pleasurable; you were gagging on his cock, strangled by his relentless and aggressive thrusts, and forced to choke on your spit because he won't pull out. Your mouth was a paradise for him, the tightness, the warmth, the way your tongue slopped under and over his shaft, it was all driving him wild. Amid his thrusts, you feel his cock twitch, indicating you he was close to his edge too.

Puffing out a guttural moan, Yeosang heaves a sigh and pulls himself out of your mouth. Sweat covers his body in a thin coat, glimmering against his skin; his hair sticks to his forehead and face, cupping around his cheeks as he pants and becomes too breathless to form words. Aching suffocation makes you cough out the spit which had been trapped at the back of your throat; your body wants to collapse; you want to lay down on the floor and roll into a ball to compose yourself. Regardless of the lethargy and stinging strain on your lungs, you look at him with teary doe eyes, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out for him.

"Such a dirty little kitty, wants to make me cum, does she?" he mumbles, a smug smile curving his lips and his hands slipping off from your hair. "Then she better fucking swallow what I give her." A mild throb nicks at your neck from being angled in an uncomfortable position, though you could care less about it; slotting yourself in the similar position as before, you shudder when he rubs the tip of his cock along your lips, and cheeks. You were lost in the ecstasy of your lewd mind, your arousal only minutes away from coming undone; the connection between your rationality and tongue had been severed, you knew you were about to spew nonsense for him.

"Want to make my master cum—make him feel good," you voicelessly utter, your breath fanning over his cock, "kitty will...kitty will swallow what her master gives her." 

"Hmm, that's a good kitty," he grunts, nudging his thumb on your chin, "open wide now, kitten."

You do as he says, loosening your jaw and opening your mouth wide for his cock to slip right in. This time, he wastes no time in plunging his cock directly in your throat; his thrusts pick up the instant you start gagging on his cock, the tip submerging deep in your warmth. With his concise and sharp thrusts, your body rattles to his force and the rope shackled around your arms bites down into your skin. One of Yeosang's hands is back into your hair, though this time he collects every strand in a makeshift ponytail and guides your head on his cock by holding onto it. His other hand grabs your jaw, his fingers slamming tight across your cheeks; he presses them hard, compressing the space in your mouth to his cock.

"Ah, yes—fuck, kitten—a really good—ah, fuck, such a good fucking pocket pussy for my cock."

A few more rough and aggressive thrusts send you into a sensory overdrive, a nightmare breaking past the bounds of your mind and coming alive; you were aching with an intense urge to let go of the knot tautening in your stomach. You were on the verge of breaking down into tears and sobbing—hell, you had already started crying. Hot tears exude from your eyes, trailing perfectly down your cheeks and ending up on his fingers; your cheeks were still squished by the way. Yeosang was using your mouth quite adeptly, rutting his hips like an animal and pushing your head against his pelvis. You were so done, so tormented by the spheres clinking around in your tight cunt that you couldn't contain it anymore. You're the first one to fall apart, your body trembling to shambles and your mind fogging up with the aftermath. Your juices pool down on the floor, creating a splash with its sound resonating in the room filled with Yeosang's grunts and moans. Panting to the terrible weakness taking over you, your chest heaves up and down, erratically, your lungs screaming in need for air.

"My kitten made a mess on the floor," he grumbles, peering at the floor where your arousal, mixed in with Seonghwa's cum pooled, "such a bad kitty—fuck, such a bad kitty to relieve herself on the floor." biting back on his moans, he shudders as he continues in his raspy tone, "but my kitty did so good—pleased her master—fuck, so good—pleased her master so fucking well. She–she fucking deserves a treat."

Yeosang's cock twitches in your mouth; his eye had been fixed on your body all this while, learning every detail and habit about it. He admired your ability to gag on his cock, he liked the way your body convulsed in itself when you came, and he loves the fucked up look on your face. Sweat, tears, spit, covering every inch bit of your skin and giving it a shine; besides, your eyes, shrouded by darkness, a tinge of lust which shows how drunk you are on his cock.

"This face—ah, this fucking gorgeous face—next time, I'm taking a picture—fucking keeping it to myself to jerk off to." he's so breathless as he blabbers out.

That was the breaking point for him, your face, the stretch of your lips around his cock as he plunged in and out, and the eerie pleading in your eyes. As a sadist, he doesn't need anything else to feel him lose himself; he just needs your tears, your vulnerable moans and your tormented eyes. One more time his cock twitches in the deepest part of your throat, and suddenly warmth starts trickling down; his load floods your mouth in waves, spurting and gushing all over in your mouth.

He lets go of your cheeks and pinches your nose instead; his other hand still held your back in a ponytail, slowly and gently tugging on it to push you away so he can slip out from your mouth. When he pulls out, a few strings of spit and cum stay linked with your lips and the tip of his cock.

"Swallow." he sternly utters.

The clasp of his forefinger and thumb on your nose tightens, leaving you no choice but to breathe in through your mouth; eventually, you swallow down the entirety of his load. Bitterness of his cum makes you gag, but you still push through and once done, open your mouth wide to show him you had guzzled every last drop of him.

"Such a good little kitty," he whispers and let's go off your nose; he takes a step back and watches your body lurch into itself. You tired, catching up on every lost breath and it amused him how helpless you seemed, coughing, panting, face covered in bits of his cum and spit.

"This isn't over yet, kitten. Get on your feet." He commands in a stern voice, shaking up your body and getting you on your feet. "Sit here."

You find him standing behind the chair, his lips slightly curved. Finding his intense eyes swelter on yours, you somehow manage to stand on your wobbly legs and stumble to the chair. Instead of sitting like a normal person, your knees give in and slump down on the chair, earning an amused yet belittling chuckle from Yeosang.

"Seems like my kitty is tired." he muses with a pout on his lips, stepping around to kneel in front of you. "Don't worry, I'll take care of her."

Muttering almost incoherently, he lets a smile hook onto his face, his cheek fluffing up slightly at one side. Yeosang's eyes hold yours, keeping you arrested in the motion while you try to sit properly on the chair; the light caresses of his fingertips follow up your knees and eventually graze past your inner thighs. He spreads your legs apart, humming in satisfaction at the sight in front of him. You bloomed like a flower, your folds wet and slick; remnants of Seonghwa's cum still showed slight traces around your mound and slit. Yeosang drools, a wad of spit rolling out the corner of his lips.

"Such a pretty little cunt," he rasps, pushing himself closer to you, "a pretty pussy to devour."

The sheer waves of his warm breath ebb over your mound, shuddering your body and making you lose your mind. You throw your head back, arching your neck and lurching behind into the support of the chair. Yeosang whistles lowly, palming his hands further up your thighs and letting them rest too close to your cunt. He uses his thumbs to spread your folds apart, admiring the pretty pink flesh obscured by the limpid texture of Seonghwa's cum. Without any warning, Yeosang dips his head down, fluttering kisses on your abdomen and going lower to your belly. His lips graze your mound, and his tongue slides out, the tip pushing along your slit.

"Fuck—master, please—ah, Yeosang, feels good," you let his name slip past your lips, mentally cursing yourself at the fuck up.

Yeosang acknowledges your little mistake, by nibbling down on your clit with his teeth; it's a gentle nibble, but his teeth sink quite nicely to give you a whiplash. "Strike one, kitty."

"M'sorry," you mumble your head and close your eyes shut, focusing on the way your body had started melting under his breath and tongue.

Flattening his tongue, he laps up your slit and folds, his thumbs stretching you out and propping your open; he gives you soft licks, lapping up Seonghwa's cum. He swallows it down, whatever that he could scour from your pussy. And in a sudden rush, his tongue slithers to your hole, prodding and pushing inside. You tried to hold onto your own hands, your nails digging into the flesh of your forearms; the rope was nowhere near loosening, and that was awful already — but the urge to just tangle your hands in his hair and push his head down, was almost getting the worst of you.

"You'll have to get used to it, kitten," Yeosang huffs out, pulling away slightly only to bury his face back into your cunt; his tongue continues with the abuse, protruding into your hole and lapping up on your walls.

"I know," you breathe out, drawling on your spit and peeling your eyes open to peep down at him. "Oh, fuck," keeping your words to yourself, you stare at the man, absolutely turned on.

His head was between your thighs, his fingers pushing and stretching you out, while he devoured you like you were his last meal. You really did wish to push his head down against your cunt, help him reach to the deeper depths of your warmth. Yeosang's tongue thrusts in and out, toying with the metallic chain of the orbs which were fit inside you. The latter half of the chain dangled out; one of his hands disappears from your inner thigh and holds onto the little dangling chain, while his other hand rakes to your cunt. Giving you no time to comprehend, he slips two of his fingers inside, pushing and curling them to his pleasure and unravelling you.

The placid yet unruly thrusts of his tongue nudged the balls every time, and his fingers did too. You were already lightheaded from your prior release, but as he continued to plunge and shove, the tension for second release started building up in the pit of your stomach. To add to your arousal, Yeosang pokes the tip of his nose along your slit, pressing hard.

"Feels so good, Yeo—master," you quickly correct yourself, a heavy moan gliding across your tongue and making you bite down on your lips. "Hmmm—so fucking good." Your words are left to muffle by your clasped lips.

Yeosang takes it as a nod at encouragement and picks up the pace of his fingers, shoving them in deep and pulling them out painfully slow. His tongue curls inwards, pulsating against your g-spot.

You mewl, "yeah, fuck—right there."

Mumbling against your skin, Yeosang doesn't spare you any mercy. Finding a rhythm, he sticks to it, ruthlessly sawing his fingers through your cunt and his tongue surging deep to tighten the knot in your gut. Only a minute passes, and you clench around him; the metallic balls in you stimulate your release, alongside his fingers and tongue. This was too much, too much to bear; your body spasms one more time before relaxing and untying the knot. Easing out on the tension, your second release floods over you and forces a loud moan from you. All air is knocked out of your chest, sending pleasurable tremors down your spine and readying you for the aftermath.

You peek at Yeosang, who continued to lick and nibble on your cunt before pushing himself back; his skin shines under the limited light of the room, his nose, lips and chin are coated with a thin sheet of your juices.

"You taste phenomenal, kitten." He says, gathering himself together and composing himself on his feet. "Although next time, I'll be wrecking this sweet cunt with my cock."

Shuffling around, he drapes his tank top over his chest and pulls his briefs up; he looks around and clicks his tongue. "Ah, the part I despise the most. Cleaning."

"I don't think I'm in any shape to help you."

"Don't worry, I'll do it later. Let's get you a warm soak first."

"Seems bout right."

You're too fucked out of your mind to comprehend his words, but regardless, you heave a chuckle and close your eyes to let the silence and darkness flow through your mind. As time passes, Yeosang helps you with the aftercare; he prepares you a tub of warm water and pulls you in with him. Your back rests against his chest, while he rubs soothing circles on your thighs, lower belly and arms. Towards the end of the soak, he suggests brewing you a cup of hot tea, to relieve the soreness of your throat.

Once you were out of the tub, he pulls one of his sweatshirts over your head and offers to cuddle you. So, you spend most of your morning in the bed with him, his warm embrace sticking to you like a comforting blanket, while the two of you talk about useless things.

"So..." you trail off.

"So?" he squeaks, confused.

"Doesn't a master need to exaggerate his ownership over his slave?" you ask, biting your lip as you rest your head on his chest.

He snickers, his arms tightening around you and pulling you close, "he does. But what are you insinuating?"

"I've read it in books before, you know. How—how a master—"

"Do you mean collars and all that bullshit?" he instigates, gazing down at you. "Angel, I am not fond of the idea of showing off my possession over you. Besides, all of us here are sharing you with each other. I've always thought of it as unnecessary."

"Oh," you drawl on a breath, "I understand. It makes sense."

Reading the sulky pout on your face, Yeosang chuckles and shakes his head, "but if you want to wear my mark on your body, perhaps exhibit yourself as my slave with pride, then I can get you something."

"Really?" you peer at him, your eyes sparkling at the suggestion.

"Why not?" he muses.

"What are your thoughts on piercings?"

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[whoiseduardito]

Heeey so I've come to the sad realization that marvel has yet again made me simp over a character that is NEVER written for so, I was wondering if you would be willing to do a fluffy magneto fic.

Maybe where you are a new teacher a the school and had never me Erik and end up with a crush and he ends up finding out somehow. Idk sorry ik that was a long one.

I need something fluffy after these past episodes and Smut is fine with me but I'm not sure if your comfortable writing smut if not no big.

HEY! GET OUT OF MY WAY!

pairing: erik lehnsherrr (magneto) x reader warn: i love this type of fluff!!!!!!! a/n: my first req!! not proof read!!! horrible writing, rushed, you can tell i loved the sound of music trope.

so maybe you have a type.

older guys who have the humor of a rock.

...maybe just the older xenotype- but that's not important, totally not. the issue is that, you're crushin'. you're crushin' hard.

maybe it is the face, maybe it is the hair, but something about erik lehnsherr pulls you in, like a magnet, ironically.

you were the new teacher at the 'xavier's school for gifted youngsters, it was a pleasant experience, the students were nice (until their mutations were triggered, but that's not their fault), the ambient was too, and the pay? you could pay your rent, and more!

for you, the 'no crushing on coworkers' was bullshit, a harmless crush can't do that bad, as long as it's harmless.

so you continued with your lecture, 'history of mutation', very cool, you had even made a presentation, and then a kahoot, pretty cool right?

"so, the history of mutations can date back to many years, such as the sixth century-"

the door opened, all of the heads turned, and the person stepped in, you turned away from the board you were writing, your eyes searching for the person.

it was your fucking crush, it was fucking magneto.

your face drained of all color, and his electric freezing blue eyes stared back.

"uhh-"

"-..this is a senior class, correct?" he walked around the class, his eyes cutting contact from your's

"...y-yeah totally" he stopped near a decoration with 'mini prom!" painted on it with photos of the students as younger kids.

"then why are decorations everywhere?" he stared at it "this is not kindergarden."

damn. "well?"

"i-i thought it would be good to make this a nice atmosphere for the students."

"the world is not an nice atmosphere for mutants, is it?"

the class was dead silent, no one dared to breathe, even lightly.

"i want this off the wall before the end of the day." he made his way out.

"why?" you whispered

he stopped "because i said so, miss l/n. now rip it off"

oh, your mood had soured

"i'm sorry magneto, sir, but the decorations stay." you said those words with all of the backbone you have

"i'm the headmaster. it goes off."

"i'm the homeroom teacher, it stays."

you were a teeny tiny scared but for your students you'd fight him without your mutation. he glared, his piercing glare stayed on you

"i'm sorry mister magneto but in here, i give the best ambient for my students."

his stare became harder, and then he blinked, sighing and walking away "...i'd like to see you in my office, right now."

you gulped loudly, you're pretty sure he heard.

he began walking away, a beat passed until you realised he wanted you to follow him, you began walking alongside him.

the way there was silent, but your head was running, this is it, this is what you get for standing up for your students, shit.

he opened the door, and let you in, murmured a 'take a seat'

"...i am not fond of people disobeying my commands."

"i am aware, mister magneto."

"just call me sir, mister magneto is ticking me off"

"sorry, sir" you quickly said, most of the backbone you had you used it on standing up to him, and now you were getting fired.

"just answer me this." you nodded, you complied "you are aware that in this school you're just needed to teach them, and just make sure they understand how the world works, not pamper them, not make them decorations."

"but-"

"are you aware?"

"yes, but-"

"then why are you pampering them?"

ouch

"i'm going to move you, transfer you if you will"

"what?"

"roulette, the mutation to be able to randomize whatever power you have seen either physically or by any media."

you're screwed

"your mutation, am i right?"

"sir-"

"you're going to work with me to make them control their mutation."

"...what?"

"you and me, are going to train them."

"uhm.... who?"

he sighed loudly, he surely had a small fuse "your students."

great! teaching with magneto.

"...you sure sir?"

"i am sure."

breaking the news to your students was easy, making them behave so you don't look like a doof, was hard.

many classes had passed with mag- mister lehnsherr (he had told you to stop calling him 'magneto'), each day was hard but sometimes you picked at his stony personality, hoping that he would notice, sometimes you swear you saw him crack a small grin when you made a joke or had integration activities for your class, and your tiny crush had maybe turned into a bigger crush.

"teach'?"

"hm?" the voice of one of your students pulled you out of your meditation spot "what is it?"

"are you okay? you've been in this spot for the whole break."

"oh here? this is a great spot to think." it was a tree behind the mansion, in a secluded corner.

"mister magento is looking for you." they sat next to you beneath the tree

"why?" they shrugged

"maybe's cause he likes you" your head snapped to their direction

"...don't be silly" you tried to look away "he doesn't"

"really? 'cause i always hear his heart beating faster, when you do something or appear." their mutation was enhanced hearing, you blushed

"oh, stop lying." you snorted

"he does!" they jabbed you with their fingers to tease you "and you like him back!"

"shut up!" you laughed

"you do! you do!" they chuckled, suddenly they remained quiet and a smirk slowly was painted in their face "i'll leave you both alone" they walked away

"wha?-"

"miss l/n?"

oh shit.

"do you like me?" you turned your head slowly to face him.

"mister lehnsherr!-"

"please, call me erik." he chuckled, maybe the first time you saw his face in a smirk that isn't evil. "and how about a coffee to discuss about your teaching methods?"