#it's not great but i wrote it nevertheless

[spatio-rift]

at the very least i want to be disliked for the tosajuu insanity not suika

[shuenkio]

Naughty neighbor | Sim. J 😈

Paring: Stalker!Jake x male!reader

Genre: Smut, 18+ [don't like don't press]

Cw: cum inside, rough, dirty talk, swearing, obsession behavior, bad .

Summary: Your lovely neighbors who you thought of as a golden retriever but turn out he's a stalker.

Non proof read/ wc: 1.6k

Eng is not my 1st lang.

A|N: I accidentally wrote it smut oops | @ddeonuswhre special thanks to you for the idea 🐱💡hope you're having a great time pookie.

[Ignore my edit, it's suck]

Moving to another home, just because of your workplace, was exhausting. However, when one of your co-workers, who is also your friend, told you that this neighborhood was full of hot guys and friendly people, as a result, you immediately moved in without hesitation.

Not to mention, it's better to stay here for a while. The scenario, the weather—it was pretty good for your own mental health as an office siren. At least you can enjoy the view while stressing your brain off. By your own pure luck, you were able to get a month of vacation off since you're the best employee of the month and the summer season is approaching.

Your boss probably won a lottery ticket; that's why they don't care if you're still working. Nevertheless, beside your tiny, little house, there's a guy next to you.

He seems like a fun guy, to be honest, at first glance. His face shape screams so much that he's an Australian citizen. Well, maybe you're in Australia right now? His smile, however, always did something to you, even if it was a greeting gesture.

He looks gentle and kind; his aura exudes the energy of a golden retriever. From your point of view, whenever you saw him, he was kind to the other neighbors. And his name is Jake. Your friends didn't lie about what they'd said about this vicinity.

Unbeknownst to you, all the scenes you saw in him were just his fake acting. Jake did all those corny things just because he wanted to get the attention of you, whom he'd had eyes on ever since you moved in. He thought that, never in his life, he had seen such a person as you. You look really soft and sweet, like fresh vanilla in your aura.

You're also an adorable little guy who's brave enough to live by himself in a small place beside him like this. He always wants to take your virginity away from you.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow. Birds chirped softly, and the fresh scent of dew filled the air.

It's 8 a.m., and you're waking up to start off your day by watering your flower garden in front of your backyard.

As you hold your watering can, splashing wet on your beautiful plants, you see Jake is also in his front yard, while he's stretching from the back pain you're assuming.

Being the good neighbor you are, you greet him with a small talk, asking about this and that until you invite him for tea.. At first, Jake denied it, but you're insisted. Yet deep down, he had been waiting for this moment forever.

You then prepare for the table before serving him the tea that you had brought from your home town.

"So Jake? What are you doing for a living?" You said, putting down your cup as you focused on him.

"Not much of the higher-paying job; I'm just the owner of a small coffee shop down the road, and you?" He responded, taking a small sip as he clicked his tongue as a sign of taste.

"I'm working as a manager in the management of marketing; it's doing some justice for my life, but it's also burning keke." You reply with a sly smile along with your chuckle. I found it somehow funny that you're the manager now.

"You look like you're not an Australian m/n; I have never had time to ask about you this." Jake mutters, folding his fingers together, while observing your face while you're not paying attention.

"Yes, I'm not; I'm from ///, and I see it's rare to find my people here."

"That's why you look handsome; I mean it." Jake snorts in polite manners as you laugh along to hide your face. Which makes you want to stay here longer just to chitchat with Jake.

Suddenly, you heard your phone ring inside your house before you excused yourself to pick up the call. As perfect timing as he planned to, a dark smirk appeared on his face. As he puts something in your cup of tea, pick up the spoon on the table and mix it up. A few minutes later, you came back as you settled yourself in your seat again. You ask him if he's bored, but he says it's nothing.

The moment of silence suddenly awkward the scenes as you obliviously take a sip with your drink till your cup is empty.

Out of nowhere, you feel a pang inside your skull as you feel like there's a drum inside your brain. Keep hitting on you.

It's hurtful and dizzy at the same time. Aside from having a sudden headache, you also experience the hotness of sweat leaking out of your skin.

It's getting hot unexpectedly, as if you just got chased by a bear. Trying to hide your unstable condition, you stand up to get yourself a glass of water.

Due to the aphrodisiac kick, you fall down to the wooden floor. Jake still put on his mask as he expressed his concerns to you, asking if you're okay.

Before he pulls you up, taking you inside to your bedroom, he locks the door behind him. Jake put you down on your bed, gently, as he took off your socks and tucked away, according to your request.

"I'm so sorry, Jake, for the trouble. I don't know why I'm feeling so hot all at once" You mumble in your stuttering, low tone. Hot sweat is still dripping down on your forehead and everything. It feels weird, but that's not the only place that's hot.

You feel like your boxer is tightening from your hard dick. A scowl creased Jake's forehead, deepening the lines around his mouth. His brows furrowed, casting shadows over his eyes, filling them with excitement.

He couldn't wait any longer to show his true colors as your creepy stalker. Jake has had eyes on you ever since you're moving in; it's like a love at first sign to say, but it's in a sexual way.

At night, while you're asleep, he sneakily installs many hidden small cameras in every corner of your house, including the bathroom, the bedroom, the kitchen, and the living room. Every move he made got you wrapped around his finger.

There's no privacy for you to have your time, chilling in your bed thinking you're alone, but deep down, your golden retriever neighbors enjoy the views of your face every single day. Even when you're in the shower, Jake would be sitting in front of his computer, fantasizing about all the nasty things with you.

He masturbates and touches himself from time to time when he feels like working up or missing you. For now, the plan that he has been working on is finally taking shape. He won't let it slip away and lose this perfect opportunity to have you, screaming his name, ruining your virginity.

Nonetheless, Jake's eyebrows shot up in astonishment as you begged for him to help you.

"J-J...ake, please help me take this hotness away; I feel like I'm dying." You said it half-conscious, rubbing your hand on your chest, feeling like fuel was burning on the inside of you.

"Don't worry, ma'boy, I'm going to make you feel at ease once I do my magic." Jake leans down to your earlobe, whispering. Before he tears up your clothes, drop them to the floor as he begins to strip himself while kneeling on your bed.

His cock was spring-free, standing so proud as he exposed his naked self in front of you. You were so fuck up that you want nothing but to erase those fires in your body; your body language is inviting him itself at this point.

"I won't stop just so you know, m/n, I'm going to make you can't walk once I'm inside—I'm going to fuck the life out of you till you beg for it, my dearest." The next thing you know, you feel a huge meat enter your entrance, spreading you in an instant without him warning you.

Results in a sign of pleasure, leaving your mouth open. A shockwave was sent to Jake's body, and he grunted loudly at the sensation. Making him buck up his hip, craving more pleasure. Before thrusting his cock in, as deep as he can at his first attempt.

"Holy, fucking shit, m/n, you feel like heaven, nrghh, let me have you more." Jake moans desperately, biting his plump lip to take pleasure once again. His cock continues to throb inside of you; your walls are clenching on him so tight that his hips are moving in and out unstoppably, fucking you roughly as a response to your body language.

"Jake, I think I'm going to squirt, ahh."

"Why not m/n~ *moaning* shot on me? I don't fucking care if it's dirty; just let me fuck you." Jake is shouting loudly at your statement, leaning down his lip to capture you, pulling you into a French kiss as his hip is still moving inside you.

"Let me fill you in, yeah? I think I'm coming. *huff huff* You let me hah?" Jake said in demand, and his orgasm started to build inside of him. You got the best of yourself, unable to decline his request as you braced yourself to welcome his request.

"ERG" Last but not least, Jake felt his cock twitching, growing hard as a metal between your stretching wall, as he exploding in your anal, filling you with his big load of a warm oragsm. In unison, you're also cumming to his sensation of him, hitting your sweet spot at the final thrust, which makes you shoot out uncontrollably.

Jake collapsed on your body, being too sensitive to the shockwave he had experienced earlier. Stop moving his hip as he sucking for oxygen sharply.

"T... thanks you, Jake; I feel a little better."

"We can do this all day, 7 days a week, to make you feel better every day, ma boy, haha. For now, let's consider our relationship  together."

"How about fuck, buddy?"

"No, I want all of you M/N" 

🗣️ please mind my English! ><

🗣️Reblog and like is much appreciated ♥

🗣️ I know there's indeed a mistake in this, sorry in advance 🫶. Improve how to write better.

I REPEAT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION, NOTHING IS REFLECT TO THE REAL LIFE EVENT.

[sepherinaspoppies]

Riding the Dragon- Modern! Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: after a great dinner with Aemond, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle, a Dragon T6.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, public smut, pussy on bike, cum play?, reader getting off on Aemond's bike, some tiddy succin, mentions of p in v sex, I think that it?

wc: 3,064

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dividers by @firefly-graphics

masterlist

click here for a tiktok that gives off aemond in this story lo

notes: this is my first time writing in reader's pov? the whole 'you' kind of perspective. I apologize if it sucks ass, I wanted to try something different. And can y'all believe I wrote majority of this when I was ovulating? HAHA

“I had a really nice time tonight.” The man in front of you says with a content and flirtatious smile on his pretty chiseled face. 

Heat coats through your cheeks to the tip of your ears. Definitely not the effect of the two glasses of wine you’d drunk not too long ago. Wine hardly ever did a number on you to slightly fuddle your conscience. 

You give him a sheepish grin, scraping the tips of your heels against the pavement, shying away from the intensity that his eye holds. “Same here. I hope we can do this again sometime.”

His face contorts in a way that clearly indicates that the feeling is in fact very, mutual. “Mind if I take down your number?” He asks, pulling out the latest new Iphone from his pocket. You only engaged in conversation through the dating app both of you met in and you thought it seemed only fair to give him your number after weeks of meeting him.

He taps a few things on his screen before you’re met with a white screen with only your first name and birthday typed. It is then when you wonder how he came about on knowing your birthday, if you had ever mentioned it in your electrifying conversations either on the app or this date. Most likely the second option. 

You knew his name, well if you’d call it that, supplying you only his first initial. By his angelic looks, he was definitely of Valyrian descent. And you hate how much of a sucker you were for those blonde bitches. You knew he was in the last year of university, double majoring in political science and business here in the capital. You also knew he had a geriatric maine coon cat, Vhagar, who’d stuck with him since he was a child. 

But that was pretty much it. 

You nod, typing out the most critical information both of you needed in order to secure the second date. “Here you go,” you hand back his phone with such caution that causes his lips to quiver in a smirk. 

He leans forward, too forward in a way you feel his breath steadily fanning your face and the warmth that radiates through his chest. You don’t pull away as his head lowers, keeping your gaze steady with his, admiring the amethyst hue of his lone eye that twinkles against the low street lights. 

A snakes his hand around your hips, which normally you’d slap away if it was any other man. But he was different. A rare gentleman who bought you a single winter rose even when you were five minutes late, let you devour the fries off his plate, and hashed your steak without asking. 

You wanted him to kiss you and perhaps even more. 

You wouldn’t say no. If anything you’d whimper out a simple “please” if it came to that. 

However, just as you expect his lips, it doesn’t come. He pulls away with a lupine smirk on his face, waiting for a response to a question you did not hear.

You cough away the slight embarrassment, “What?” 

“I asked what your password was,” 

Before you process how he did it, you see him wave the gray screen of your phone around your face, waiting for the six digit code. 

Oh. 

“I got your number but you did not get mine and you’re gonna need it when I take you out to dinner again.” The blonde in front of you points out. 

True.

It almost feels too goofy revealing the code that multiple of your friends tease you for. Nevertheless, you stutter out the numbers: one, two, three, four, five, and six. 

You hear him dryly laugh, shaking his head side to side as he types out the three sets of numbers. “Mmm, you need a better password, darling. One might think you want your personal information stolen,” He teases. You shift your thighs to a close at the term of endearment, already feeling the slightest tingles in a place where you desired him the most. 

You make a sound of agreement making a mental note to change it later tonight. After he hands back your phone, he combs back the loose silvery hair out of his face into a neat bun that well flatters his face. “Take mine for example; it’s five, twenty-two, one-thirty. Easy to remember.” 

“Is that your cat’s birthday?” You questioned. 

“No. It’s the day we matched on Tinder.” 

You are lost for words. Not even you knew the exact date you matched with him, only knowing it was around a few weeks ago. Judging by your reaction, he knew what you were thinking. 

After a few more rounds of flirtatious conversations, you both decided to call it a night, waving each other goodnight as you watched as he sped up in a black, shiny Dragon T6, a vintage motorcycle that was the second most precious thing he owned. (The first being Vhagar). You’d be lying if that wasn’t one of the list of reasons why you swiped right. A tall Valyrian man, with long locks, that rode a motorcycle definitely modeled the countless dark romance books you’d spent hours reading. 

To your frustration, the price of Uber had doubled the amount you’d paid for hours ago. Not even Uber Share happened to be near your price range. For ten gold dragons, you could buy a week’s worth of groceries!

So you sighed, turning off your phone. Your usual bus was still in service and way cheaper than the ridiculous prices of Uber. And while it was too late to be out by yourself, it was a risk you were willing to take. 

As you rummage through your wallet for some copper coins, you hear a deep, rumbling sound of an engine revving up close to where you stand. 

It’s him. Braking his bike on the side of the road where you are. His expensive Lysene suit coat no longer hugged his body, wearing only a white dress shirt that was half unbuttoned, giving you an impeccable view of his perfectly rounded cleavage and the multiple hidden tattoos you didn’t know he had. 

“Hop in,” He says, pointing his head to the side. It was not a request but a demand. 

You tilt your head, unsure whether to say yes or no. “Is it safe?” You ask. His chest moves, seemingly laughing as he opens the visor of his helmet. “Of course it is. I’m a cautious driver, never had an accident and I don’t think I ever will. I made sure to drink water after a glass of wine, so I’m not under the influence.” 

He narrows his eye, observing the hesitation written throughout your face. He offers the spare helmet from his bag and hopes that it will coax the uneasiness. 

“If you’re so dubious about it then by all means the bike is yours to drive.” 

It’s your turn to laugh because the thought of you riding something of high value and rarity seemed absurd and silly. You were someone who did not have experience in driving in general whilst also being terrified of the narrow and steep roads of King’s Landing. 

But there was no humor in A’s eye. 

“You’re not serious are you?” 

He powers off the bike before he scoots back from his seat. “I am.” He eagerly pats the spot he has saved for you. 

“You do realize that this is a Dragon T6, right? They practically don’t make these anymore!” You gesture your hands around the expensive looking machine that was probably worth more than your left kidney. 

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms on his chest. “What’s your point?”

You scoff playfully, “My point is that manufacturers don’t make these anymore and if I crash it–”  

“–You should have a little more faith in yourself. Maybe this will come naturally to you but you’ll never know if you don’t try.” 

You can’t help but exhale in slight failure. This was a conversation you knew you couldn’t win with him. “Look, I’m not going to pressure you into something you don’t feel comfortable doing but I happen to be a great teacher. And if you do crash I’ll buy another, they aren’t that expensive anyways.” The Valyrian man shrugs as if thousands, or hundred thousands of gold dragons were nothing. 

You mutter a “fine” under your breath which makes him all giddy with excitement and slides the helmet down your head. He double checks if it's secured before he lifts you to sit properly on his bike. 

“Or I have one or two things in mind of how you could repay me.” 

Every single piece of information he hurled your way was taken deep into your head. And you did your best to pay attention to it all under the sharp needles of nerves going through your spine. At some point he had given you little rubs up and down your back to soothe your nerves. The effect was anything but that, instead all you could think about was how his hands would feel against the bareness of your body.

Fuck. 

You tried to push those lewd thoughts away as he demonstrated the anatomy of the Dragon T6. The ignition was a little red switch right below the speedometer, whilst the clutch was on the left hand side and the accelerator in your right. The gear shift was something you had to get used to as it was not on your eye level but rather a small little lever near your foot. 

Once he feels you’ve gotten the grasp of how everything works it was time for the ultimate test. “Alright now we start. Are you ready?” He asked with an eager smile tugging his lips. 

No.

You nod your head, adjusting the mirrors to match your height. You feel the tips of his fingers lift and turn your chin towards him, “Use your words, darling.” There it was that name again that made you clutch your thighs together. You audibly gulp, “Y-yes I’m ready.”

“Good,” His hands squeeze at your hip bones to bring you closer to him. Your eyes widen almost comically to what you assume is his cock pressing insistently onto your ass. It was hard, and through the thin material of your dress you could feel it throbbing full of want and need. Gods, how will you ever focus now?

A brief image flashed through your mind of how much and what was packing underneath his undergarments. The length and thickness and how it would feel wrapped around your palm as you’d stroke him from base to tip, or the taste of him as you’d take him inside your mouth, or having his full length stuffed deep inside you as he fucked you dumb. 

Something tells you that he knows what you are thinking but neither of you speak about it. 

Finally, he takes your hands onto the handles of the clutch and the accelerator and you, being a step ahead, check if the gear is on neutral before you release the clutch and to your satisfaction it is. The blonde behind you smiles at you proudly like a teacher would to their student. 

“Now, you’re gonna slowly release the clutch and twist the accelerator slightly…there you go, good girl. You’re doing such a good job.” He coos at your ear. 

The beat of your heart raced almost out of your chest. You weren’t sure if it was the excitement of a small accomplishment or the low timbre of his voice praising you but you welcomed it. 

With confidence you didn’t know you had, you decided to drive the rest of the way to your apartment without complications and took up every tip the man behind you advised. The cool air kissing your skin and the adrenaline wildly pumping through your veins, awoke something in you and slowly you began to comprehend why A loved riding. 

You had felt like a small bird taking its first flight through the skies. 

When you both reached the parking lot to your apartment, you returned his helmet and a small part lingering inside you did not want to let it go. You enjoyed it and the freedom it brought you.  

“That was so fun! I can’t believe it was that easy. Think I need to save me up for one of these,” You quipped patting the bike. 

He throws his head back to let out an amused laugh, “Or I can just give you this one,” A tone of nonchalant laced through his voice. 

You look at him baffled, “I was–” 

“–But first we need to get you your license before I–” 

“–Absolutely not, I was jesting.” You snipped, making him roll his eyes with a slight pout drawing out his lips.

“You’re stubborn and difficult, has anyone told you that?” You chortle thinking of the numerous times you’ve been called that. 

“Plenty of times but I reckon this won’t be the last.” 

He hums tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, “I guess I have to fuck it out of you.”

You blink.

The hue of your cheeks increased tenfold, your feet and body became paralyzed to what he had just confessed. 

Had he just said that to shut you up? If so it worked. 

You didn’t know how to respond to something as bold as that and to your inclination you lowered your head but the blonde behind you couldn’t have that. You felt the tips of his fingers roughly grip your jaw to meet his gaze. The amethyst hue of his eye turned into a darker shade of violet as he eyed between your eyes then your lips. 

Every part of you screamed for him to kiss you or to do something to appease the longing. 

You instinctively parted your lips when his head began to dip towards your lips. The tip of his nose brushed delicately against your own then it slowly trailed to sniff at your neck, the sweet smell of spiced peaches. 

“Nyke jaelagon ao,” He whispered in his mother language. 

“Pār emagon issa,” You said before you mentally said ‘fuck it’ and knocked the wind out of him with a kiss. 

He lets out a mix between a growl and a groan as he feels your wandering hands tugging the roots of his hair. Something you yearned to do ever since you saw how long and silky his hair was. 

And Gods did it meet your expectations. 

His lips moved against yours most ardently and with equal fervor. It was hungry and needy the way your teeth clashed with his, tongues dancing for dominance until you hissed when he bit your lower lip. 

You melted into his warm embrace, deciding to tease him by rubbing your palm on his clothed length, detecting a damp patch. You shot your eyes open, separating away your lips. 

“Did you just cum?” You panted heavily. 

A smirked, “I came when you first got on the bike and I was about to cum right now.” 

You quirked a brow, “That’s what did it for you?” Redness coated his cheeks and before you knew it his lips were on you again and his hands lifted the hem of your dress, exposing the black lacy panties you wore just for him. 

“Incase you get lucky,” Your best friend Sara teased just the day before when you and her took a shopping trip to a Lysene lingerie store. 

Through some imaginary telepathic communication, you thanked Sara. 

He groaned feeling the wetness that gathered through your folds. You weren’t just wet, you were dripping like honey on a hot summer’s day. A mischievous idea popped into his mind, something so lewd that made the head of his cock twitch with excitement. 

You squealed as he swiftly turned you around and twisted the ignition switch on. Was he going to make you drive in this state? 

“Move your panties to the side.” He commanded behind you. 

You pushed away the curiosity and did what he bid you to do. “Good girl. Now lean forward a bit.” You shifted yourself forward until you could feel the warm metal of his seat pressing tenaciously at your bare cunt. 

A gasp turned into drawn out moans as the blonde behind you revved the accelerator at a speed that made stars appear in your eyes. It felt good, so obscenely good that all thoughts about being in a public setting flew right over your head. 

You began to grind yourself with the vibrations, creating as much friction to your bud as you could. 

“That’s it, darling,” He encouraged behind you, increasing power to the accelerator just enough for your arousal to coat his bike. “Fuck yourself on my Dragon.” 

You clenched around nothing, whining as you felt the pure waves of ecstasy slithering down your spine. It was unlike anything you ever felt, not even the vibrator you owned made you topple over the edge.

In ten seconds or less, you loudly moaned, not caring who heard or saw you, as your legs shaked and the coil around your stomach loosened, cumming absolutely hard. 

Your limbs felt entirely spent as if you ran three laps around Rhaenys’ hill. 

“Mmm, do not get too comfortable, now, darling.” He boasted smugly as his fingers scoop your honey to his lips, humming at the delicious taste. “I haven’t even fucked you senseless yet and after witnessing this I want nothing more but to ruin your ability to walk straight for week.” 

A low whine escaped your lips at the thought of him roughly taking you. “Is that what you want?” He questioned, lowering the straps of your dress to expose your breasts to his gaze. 

You sighed contently, feeling his tongue enclosing around your perk nipple. “Yes please,” You tenderly loop your fingers through his hair. 

“I promise I will never make you beg,” He murmurs against your breast, “But you sound so pretty when you do.” 

He had kept true to his word as he not only bent you over his bike as he fucked you raw, but took you three more rounds on your couch, bed and shower until you absolutely passed out in his arms. And for the rest of the week you couldn’t walk straight without limping. Thanks to Aemond Targaryen. 

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empty is who I couldn't tag sowwy besties.

[feeder86]

Feeder 86: The Top Ten

Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?

This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time. 

Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!

So, with that being said, let us begin...

#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!

#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.

#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.

#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.

#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.

#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.

#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...

If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.

#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…

#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet. 

Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…

Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!

Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…

#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion. 

With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control. 

The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…

So, there you have it! The the complete list!

This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...

So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.  

Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.

Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.

Happy 200 stories!

Feeder86

[troublesomesnitch]

Make Your Hands Unclean

Aemond x Wife!Reader - Period sex drabble

Premise and bits of dialogue shamelessly stolen from The Borgias.

Contents: drabble, pure filth. Menstrual sex, p in v, anal touching, graphic imagery. Internalised misogyny and harmful attitudes towards menstruation. Aemond is an asshole. Porn with weird plottish vibes.

Words: 2300

idk what this even is, this thing kind of wrote itself and I just went with it. It is kind of a mess tbh.

You were supposed to marry a lord.

That is what you were raised for, and those are the skills you were taught. To sing, to dance, to play the harp; to make yourself look pleasant. Your septa taught you to sew, and a woman from Essos taught you to weave, and in the afternoons the maester taught you history and linguistics, astronomy and arithmetic, and other things that ladies rarely speak about, but nevertheless must learn. 

For it is the lady, not the lord, who runs the castle. Who manages the household, and oversees the people it employs. Such a lady must ideally be both kind and commanding, generous and frugal. She must know how to handle serfs and noblemen alike, and she must be proficient in numeracy; able to record expenses and perform difficult calculations. 

To be a prince’s wife requires no such skills. 

This castle already has two queens, and besides it is not for royal women to concern themselves with practical matters. There are ladies-in-waiting for that, and stewards, chamberlains, maids and matrons; an army of servants hundreds strong to ensure that you may always be spoiled and idle. More than a lady, but less than a queen, left to twiddle your thumbs and wonder when, if ever, the oppressive walls of Maegor’s Holdfast will begin to feel like home.

You do not like it here. 

The days are long in King’s Landing, and the air is foul, polluted by the smoke of ten thousand hearths, by the stench of filth and unwashed bodies. It seeps through every crack and crevice, and you like the early mornings the most, when a cleansing mist blows in from the sea, and the ship’s bells ring over Blackwater Bay. 

Your husband rises early too, though it is for different reasons. Prince Aemond adheres to strict routines, to noble pursuits and rigorous discipline. He is exactly as people say: a stoic, severe in both temper and countenance, condemning indulgence and deriding depravity. 

Yet for all of his moral posturing, he does seem to have developed a taste for it rather quickly. 

You couldn’t say the exact number of times the prince has had you, but it has been many, and often, and in every position imaginable, and you dutifully report it all back to your family. As they have instructed you to do.

Before you were sent off to the capital, you were relentlessly reminded that there will never again be an opportunity such as this. That a marriage to a royal prince is a rare honour for your family, and one that was only made possible because the crown finds itself at war. Your house is not a great one, and your father is not the noblest lord, but he is very wealthy. And on the field of battle, wealth does tend to triumph. 

You do not know what other promises were made, what lands or titles were negotiated. Only that so much now depends on you; on your ability to please your husband and give him healthy children. Preferably male, but even a daughter would markedly strengthen your position. So you play your part as best as you can , and you pen your secret letters, divulging all the details of your intimate affairs. That the prince sleeps with you frequently, and seems to find great pleasure in it. That he performs his movements to completion, and expends his semen inside your body. 

It is a grave responsibility to have on your shoulders, and you were utterly crushed when you woke to find your insides churning, and your sheets stained with blood. 

They will be most displeased, your mother and father. Your brothers and uncles, and your cousins too. Prince Aemond's seed has not yet taken. 

-

In the evening he knocks on your door. Two determined raps, and you are thoroughly surprised. Your maid will have told his mother of your ailment, and she will have told him, and he too must be disappointed. But you know it is the prince, for there is no one else who would visit you at this hour. 

You know very well what he has come for, too. 

“We can’t tonight,” you sigh. 

“And why is that?” he says, amused, as if the idea that you would refuse him is ridiculous. 

“My blood - I am bleeding.”

Prince Aemond hums, but he walks to your couch and begins to undress himself, unbuckling his doublet and unlacing his breeches, tugging off his boots while you wring your hands. 

He can’t be serious. He can’t mean to take you like this. 

“It’s not - it isn’t proper,” you protest. “Our maester said it is ill-advised - most men find it unclean - “

“I am not most men,” he scoffs. 

There is no arguing against that, and he says it with all the confidence of someone who knows it to be true. Aemond is a royal prince. A dragonlord, a scion of a greater people. Second to no one but his king and brother, and if he wants to get himself all bloodied, then you suppose that is his right. 

He rids himself of his undershirt, and you reluctantly move to the side to let him join you in bed. It isn’t proper, but your insides flutter when he pulls you against his naked body, letting you feel the warmth of his skin, his manhood against the back of your thigh. It is hard, and twitching when he runs his hands over your figure, your breasts and your stomach, your waist, your hips, the tops of your thighs -

“No, you mustn’t - ” you squeak, but he rucks your gown up anyway and slips his hand in between your legs.

You are wet there, with blood as well as with desire, and you can feel the stickiness when he spreads your lips, curving his fingers and sliding them back and forth along your slit. His breathing is hoarse just from caressing you, from feeling your wet, your warmth, your little swollen nub begging to be touched. You whimper when he circles it with the gentlest of strokes, light and teasing, until you arch your hips up in frustration and breathe oh please. 

Prince Aemond likes it when you beg. Only then does he press down, but not enough to bring you to a peak. Just enough to make your insides tighten, and more blood gush from your womb.

You always did find it strangely beautiful, the blood of your cycle. Deep maroon, and scarlet red - but you are ashamed to see it coating the prince’s fingers when he withdraws them. It is thick, and clotted, and he takes a moment to study it before he wipes his hand clean on your shift. 

“Are you not displeased with me?” you whisper. He should be, given that you have failed to conceive. That there is no way of knowing if you can bear children at all. 

“One mere month is not cause for concern,” the prince says. 

You breathe a faint sigh of relief. It is a comfort to know that at least your husband doesn’t hold your failure against you - yet. 

He tugs on your shift, eager to expose your body, but you cross your hands over your chest.

“Let me keep it for tonight,” you plead. 

You can’t rid yourself of the thought that you are unclean, and you would feel so much more at ease if he didn’t see your heavy, aching body. But you don’t want to entirely deny him access to it, either. Seeing as you are bleeding, the chances of begetting a child are small, which means that his wish to sleep with you must come from genuine desire rather than obligation. And that makes you very happy, as you imagine it would any wife. 

You will make sure to include it in the next letter you send back home. Hopefully it will lessen their disappointment. 

The prince looks somewhat displeased, but he lets you keep your dress, resorting instead to bunching it up around your waist. He is stern, but never cruel to you, even if he does pull at the neck to bare more of your breasts. He pinches your nipple, and then his hand moves downward again, and you throw your leg over his hip to give him more room to touch you. 

This time he does it properly. His fingers find your pleasure right away, and he swiftly brings you to your rapture, impatient as he is to have you. It leaves his hand stained and tainted, and once again he wipes it off on your shift, but this time you don’t care. 

With the position you’re in, it is easy for him to crawl over your leg and take his place between them, and he kisses you as he presses against you, deeply and hungrily, rocking his hips, his manhood throbbing and leaking between your legs. 

Your parts are soaked, but he is careful when he pushes inside. Despite the prince’s relentless pursuit of knowledge, he must not know all that much about a woman’s blood, at least not in practical terms. Where it hurts, and how much, and whether this intrusion will make it worse. You can’t hold it against him - you don’t believe there are many scholars who would want to write about the topic, and how then was he supposed to learn?

“Harder,” you pant, and he obliges, moving faster and pushing deep inside. 

You let him find a steady rhythm, hooking your legs over his hips, and letting your hands wander over his body while he has his way with you. You stroke his balls, imagining that what he keeps inside will take root in you. You pinch his nipples, all hard with pleasure, and you slide your hands down to his lower back, to the base of his spine, where the skin is dusted with downy hairs. Where you can feel each of his thrusts; the rolling movements of his hips, the rhythmic clenching of his buttocks. 

Your dainty touch makes him shudder, and you move your hands to his arse, and then further still, slipping your fingers in between his buttocks. To where he is warm and tender, and where his skin starts to pucker. 

It is filthy, the way he twitches there. The way he throbs. A dirty place to touch, and a sinful thing to do, but you have found that the prince likes it. No added pressure or attempts at entry, just gentle strokes with the tips of your fingers. Soft caresses over his opening. 

He buries his face in your neck and groans, and you can feel that he is nearing his peak. His movements are fast and shallow, his chest heaving and slick with sweat. 

“Yes, my prince,” you whisper. “Fill me with your seed, put a son inside me - “

He likes that. He hisses loudly, gripping the headboard for purchase, and you look up at him when his hips stutter. Prince Aemond’s face is always handsome, but never more than when he is on top of you, in the throes of ecstasy. His brow is furrowed and his eye squeezed shut, and the tension in his body makes the damaged side of his face convulse, his lip twitching up towards the scar. 

He wouldn’t like for you to see that, but in this state he does not feel it happening. 

You lie still as he peaks, allowing him to rut into you wildly, groaning and grunting as he spills his seed. Hot, and wet, and adding to the mess inside you. He lies limp on top of you to catch his breath, and when he finally withdraws, the blood is everywhere. On his softening organ, on his sack, and crusted to the soft hairs on his thighs. 

“I’ve made you dirty,” you state. 

“Yes, you have,” he says. “In more ways than one.” 

You look the other way to give him some privacy when he rises to tidy and dress himself. On your wedding night he stayed with you until the morning, and he has done it a few times since, but it is not a common occurrence. Prince Aemond prefers to sleep alone, and your mother chastises you for that too. She says that to rouse a man’s desire is less than half the battle, and that you must make your husband love you.

Of course if it were really that simple, then there would be no unhappy marriages and no children born as bastards, and if you knew how to make a man fall in love, you would be the richest woman in all the world. 

But you must at least try. 

“Won’t you stay with me?” You ask. “It is - important, for a woman to be embraced - to be treated gently, afterwards…”

“Next time, I will,” he says. And that is the end of that, for you will not stoop so low as to beg for his company. 

He smoothes out his shirt and pulls on his breeches, and you sit up and comb your fingers through your tangled hair. When you look down there are stains on your sheets, and a thick rosy fluid trickling out between your legs. 

“You may want to abstain from riding,” the prince says over his shoulder. “It is known to upset the balance of the womb.”

You nod, bound to obey what is clearly a command posing as a suggestion. 

“Did you know,” you muse, “that the blood of the womb is the only blood that is not born from violence?”

Prince Aemond looks at you with a thoughtful expression, one that suggests he had in fact not considered that before. 

“Quite the philosopher you are,” he remarks, with a little raise of his brow. Coming from him, that is the highest praise. 

It does not change his mind about staying, but he does press a noble kiss to your temple before he leaves you. Sore and bloodied, but content. 

You did well tonight. 

Notes

“Most men find it unclean/I am not most men” is from S1E7 of the Borgias. 

“Menstruation is the only blood that is not born from violence and yet it’s the one that disgusts you the most” is a quote by artist Maia Schwartz. I couldn’t find any more information about her unfortunately. 

Tags. @arcielee, @targaryen-madness.

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

Jump then fall

Aeron Bracken x Reader

Disclaimer: I wrote this for my sister who happens to love the wee pretty Bracken, Taylor Swift and Baby's Breath flowers. Please let me know if you'd like a second part.

Description: Aeron and Y/N meet as children and are quickly inseparable. Circumstances separate them until they meet again as adults and Aeron is immediately infatuated, but believes his feelings to be unrequited.

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Final Part

Warnings: female reader. Mention of insecurities over traditional gender norms. Extremely inexperienced fanfic writer. A truly heinous amount of Taylor Swift references if you don't listen to her music. Specifically Enchanted, Mary's Song, Peace, Jump then fall, and All of the Girls You've loved Before

Aeron found his eyes wandering back to Y/N, as they ceaselessly did whenever he knew she was near, drawn as a moth to firelight. He watched the satin fabric of her dress shift as she weaved through the gathered throng of lords and ladies, the tendrils of her hair sway as she pushed it carelessly over her shoulder, her face alight in a gentle smile that had his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He watched as she came to a stop in front of her father, handing him the goblet of wine that had been the purpose of her venture across the hall, that had her brushing so close to him that he could smell the faint perfume of gardenias woven throughout the braids in her hair. He had steeled himself against stopping her in an attempt to engage her in conversation, but had been unable to avert his traitorous eyes from her entirely, try as he might.

So lost in simply gazing at her was he that he was startled when her eyes abruptly met his own, a sign he must surely have been gawking rather than discretely stealing glaces as he had oft found himself doing of late. A full moon had passed since they had been reintroduced as adults grown, an absence of 10 years separating them from the friendship of their youth. His Lord uncle had sought to present her father to him as a loyal bannerman, returned from years of service to the crown spent in Kings Landing to support the Bracken cause against  the Blackwoods. His words fell on deaf ears for instantly his focus was drawn to the young lady arm in arm with her father, her eyes as familiar to his heart as his own, despite the progress of time.

Enchanted by her delicate beauty and the sweet smile she directed towards him, it was her easy humour and immediate enthusiasm to engage him in recollections of their childhood that saw him falling into a chasm he knew he could not, or did not want to, prise himself from. Since that first look he had found himself entirely unable to look away. Nevertheless, he presently averted his gaze to the walls of the Great Banquet Hall, desperately focusing on tracing the elaborate designs on the Bracken Stronghold's golden tapestries. The light tread of footsteps he could instantly recognise as belonging to Y/N sent his heart racing as they brought the object of his senseless and surely unrequited adoration ever closer to him.

Time seemed to stop as he watched Y/N walk towards him, frantically trying to gather his thoughts so that he might string a coherent sentence together. Stopping a pace in front of him Y/N beamed up at him. "I trust you are having a pleasant evening good knight." Returning her smile nervously with one of his own he bowed his head respectfully despite their difference in status. "Indeed my lady, and I trust you are enjoying your evening?"

He was pleased that he had not stuttered at least but his tone was rigid and overtly formal when he had known hers was lightly teasing, most assuredly so as her face fell slightly. "We were once friends. I should like to be so again should you allow." Her expression was hopeful and he regrettably took note of an underlying semblance of hurt. Had she noticed his self- imposed isolation and avoidance of her and thought it a reflection of some sort of infraction on her part? That had not been his intention, rather he had hoped to avoid strengthening feelings he believed to be unrequited.

Before he lost his courage entirely he replied "I should like that as well." Y/N's face lit up once more, her eyes shining brightly under the glow of the candles that lit the hall. "Good, then may I prevail upon you to meet me under the Brackentree on the morrow?" Aeron wanted to throw all sense of caution to the wind just for the moment to acquiesce to her request. What harm could there be, he could surely manage a friendship with her at least could he not? And he found himself steadfastly agreeing "Should it please you."

The next day Aeron found himself waiting for Y/N under the golden Bracken tree that was their old haunt. A cold mist had settled over the land and the grass glistened with fresh morning dew. The sun cast an amber glow that warmed him as he waited, silently anticipating the light tread of Y/N's footsteps. Spotting her at a distance yonder they exchanged shy smiles as he walked to meet her halfway. "My lady" Aeron began before Y/N cut him off "You know I am no Lady."

"You are to me" Aeron interrupted, growing in boldness. Her eyes snapping to his, Y/N softly spoke "Just y/n please."

"Y/N then." Her name left his mouth, solemn and with a reverance he hoped she could not hear in his treacherous voice, though he could. "Thank you Aeron" she replied, grinning up at him then. He had heard her speak his name many times in their youth but no prior instance had such an instant affect on him. To hear it now stirred in him a feeling of contentment so intense he felt his mouth part in a silent gasp of shock, quickly schooling his features in case she caught him gawping like a fish. He followed her gaze back to the Bracken tree, it's conflagration of red and yellow leaves lightly fluttering in the gentle breeze.

"This used to be our tree, I remember it fondly. Do you?" Her question struck him as tinged by an air of insecurity. Did she think he could so easily forget her or the happiest period of his childhood, spent playing at knights taking turns to craft tales of dragons and princesses, the Targaryen dynasty being an object of great fascination to them both. "I remember it well" he assured her, prompting y/n's soft smile.

The Bracken tree held a special significance for them both, having been the place of their first meeting. Aeron had been a boy of four and ten, ambling about his Lord uncle's lands on a warm summer afternoon when he had come across Y/N, a girl who could not be more than ten years old, clinging to a branch high up in the tree for dear life, her knuckles white from her grip, her eyes tightly shut. Aeron could not understand how this girl could have found herself in such a precarious situation, immediately sparking his curiosity and so he called up to her. "Good day young miss."

The girl's eyes snapped open, startled and then at once hopeful. "I wish that I could wish you good day but it does not feel so. I find myself in a bit of a scrape, I am stuck you see." "I do indeed see, and how did you come to find yourself in such a scrape?" He called back, slightly amused by her defeated tone and the ridiculousness of the situation.

"Promise not to laugh."

"I promise." He was not sure he could promise in truth but he was eager to hear how the girl had come to find herself in her current predicament.

"My cat got itself stuck up the tree and I climbed up to retrieve her. As soon as I reached her she climbed back down, which is when I realised I was afraid of heights...so now I'm stuck."

Aeron could not stop the laugh that left his lips but quickly quieted as Y/N shot him with a savage glare.

"You promised not to laugh" she pouted and even as a boy he could not help but want nothing more than to see her smile instead.

"Apologies my lady, I will assist you if I can" he exaggeratedly bowed with a flourish and a hand to his heart in the hopes of amusing her.

"Do you think you can climb back down?'"

The girl looked briefly down and immediately shut her eyes, shaking her head frantically.

"No, I don't think so."

Slowly walking up to the base of the tree he held his arms out.

"You must jump then. I will catch you."

He tried not to let her scoff and look of raw panic and disbelief insult his dignity too much.

"But I'll fall."

"Yes..into me."

"What if you don't catch me and I snap my neck?"

"I assure you form that height you could break an arm but certainly not your neck. And I have promised to catch you."

She studied his features for what seemed like an age but could only have been a few seconds, seemingly trying to gauge his sincerity before she started to loosen her grip and raise herself into more of an upright position, legs dangling over the edge of the branch she rested upon as she firmly grabbed the trunk of the tree.

'"You're sure you can?"

"I don't see that you have another option" Aeron teased raising his arms higher up towards her.

Breathing deeply through her nose she nodded.

"OK, I trust you."

When she jumped Aeron caught her as promised, the momentum of her fall causing his arms to shake briefly before he readjusted his hold and lowered her to the ground, maintaining a grip on her elbows to steady her. He caught her gaze as she looked up at him in what he thought was a mix of awe and gratitude, or perhaps simply relief at no longer being airborne.

"You caught me."

"I promised you I would."

"Y/N"

"What?"

"My name is Y/N. What's yours?"

"Aeron Bracken, ward of Lord Bracken."

The young girl's eyes widened for a moment before she replied.

"Thank you for rescuing me. Would you like to meet here tomorrow and I can show you my cat. The one that got me stuck?"

A few years her senior, her response was that of a child seeking a friend. Used to being overlooked in his own home, having lost his parents at a young age and growing up under the gaze of a rather stern uncle whose expectations he never seemed to meet, Aeron found his heart warmed by Y/N's offer of friendship.

"Should it please you."

Stalking off immediately towards his home he could not know that the two of them would become inseparable from this first meeting. The two would meet daily at the Brackenwood tree to pour over tales of knights and stories of Targaryen dragon riders. Otherwise they would invent quests that would see them running about the Brackenwoods until the sun began to set. But they could often be found simply sitting comfortably in silence together, a level of intimacy Aeron had failed to find with another. Two years later y/n's father was called to serve as a knight at the Red Keep in Kings Landing, taking Y/N with him, despite her protestations, and Aeron could not but suspect his Lord uncle had been involved in their parting, having persistently chided him for neglecting his duties to amble about the Brackenwood with a girl he viewed of no importance.

Aeron's thoughts were sharply brought back to the present as Y/N suddenly turned away from him and abruptly began to walk downhill away from their tree and towards the Brackenwood. His brief moment of surprise at the suddenness of her actions was short lived as with a glance back in his direction he realised she meant him to follow her. His height advantage allowed him to catch up to her in  few long strides before he slowed his pace to match hers. Aeron felt her shoulder lightly brush his arm and it was as if he had been struck by a lightening bolt and he glanced down to see how close the rocky terrain had brought them.

Instilled with an uncharacteristic surge of confidence at Y/N's clear lack of discomfort a their proximity he lifted his arm out towards her. "May I offer you my arm, the terrain is uneven and you are like to trip in your skirts." Levelling a sweet smile at him that he felt sure could rival the light of the sun and had him thanking the gods for mustering up a semblance of courage to offer in the first place, Y/N gently entwined their arms, lightly placing her smaller hand on his bicep. "Thank you good knight, you are most chivalrous." Her tone was familiar and jesting, but Aeron rejoiced to see a light blush grace Y/N's cheeks.

For the first time Aeron began to hope that perhaps his feelings were not unfounded, that he could hope to find them reciprocated in time. The intensity of his infatuation with Y/N had always been matched only by his assurance that his feelings could never be returned. Y/N was beautiful and kind, always so patient and with an intelligence and wit that had her consuming his every waking thought. Whilst his Lord uncle's heir by virtue of his uncle having no living son, he felt what he believed to be his deficiencies acutely.

He had but recently been appointed a knight, he was all too aware that this honour was not bestowed upon him on account of any great swordsmanship or feats of courage on his part. Aeron was tall and while lean he was not without strength or any skill with the sword. But it was his preference for exploits of the mind, his propensity to while away the day in his uncle's library rather than in the training field that separated him most definitively from the other Bracken knights. At the crux of the problem, however, was his introverted and shy temperament that had plagued him since childhood and had him stumbling over his words whenever Y/N was nearby.

He had convinced himself that he could never deserve Y/N and resolved to keep his distance, exchanging few words and replacing the words he wished he could speak to her with fleeting glances across a Banquet Hall. How could he, in good faith, present himself to her as an option when she surely sought a match that would grant her protection and security, whilst he could barely muster up the courage to meet her gaze now as upon entering the Brackenwood she began to speak of her purpose for their current course?

"I apologise for unceremoniously dragging you into the woods, I do recall there used to be a bushel of baby's breath flowers to the east of these woods. I was quite fond of them as a girl and should like to gather some, there is no such flower in Kings Landing."

"I remember, my lady."

"Aeron" She scolded.

"My apologies...Y/N."

"You remember?"

"I do, we walked this path often to gather your flowers. I distinctly recall you proclaiming yourself the Princess of Brackenwood and myself your sworn protector to guide you safely through the woods." Aeron found himself slipping into the playfulness that had characterised their childhood friendship the longer he was in Y/N's presence. Her resounding laughter had his heart soaring.

"Ah, so you do indeed remember. I had feared you'd forgotten me entirely. We have barely spoken since I returned to the Riverlands."

"Of course not!" He quickly protested but paused when he spotted her own playful grin and he realised she was just teasing him.

"It appears that in my great wisdom even as a girl you were well appointed for I never came to any harm in these woods with you by my side. Though I am no princess and am surely in no need of a sworn protector I am most grateful for your company now."

"I would still keep you safe" Aeron assured Y/N for that was something Aeron was at least most certain of. He tried to keep his tone light, enjoying the levity of their current course of conversation and not wishing to derail it.

"Why thank you good knight" Y/N laughed, briefly turning her head to rest it lightly on his shoulder before retracting it once more. Aeron's heart soared at the unexpectedly affectionate gesture, wishing she would lean into him again.

They walked in silence for a time, but it was not an awkward and uncomfortable silence Aeron had feared. Instead it was one of two people who understand one another, filled by a sense of familiarity and shared intimacy. Y/N had never bristled at his quiet and reserved nature before and Aeron was struck by the realisation that mayhaps he had been wrong to expect her to do so now as a woman.

Coming across the broken trunk of a tree they had often sat upon, taking turns to read to one another from the books Aeron would spirit from his Uncle's library, Aeron lowered his arm from Y/N's. Jumping lightly over the trunk he proferred his hand to help her over the obstacle. The feeling of her warm, soft hand placed atop his own had him forgetting himself entirely. Looking down at her hand delicately placed on his he suddenly felt sure that hers was made for his, their hands intertwined and all the stars aligned. Realising he had been holding her hand longer than was strictly necessary, he cleared his throat, tucking her arm back over his to continue their progress.

"Aha" Y/N delightedly removed herself from his grip to traipse over to the object of their quest. Content to just watch her as she happily began to gather up the flowers she had always favoured so much, Aeron stood off to the side until it became obvious that Y/N could no longer contain the copious amounts of flowers she had gathered within her arms. Stepping forward he called to her "Can I be of assistance? You can deliver them into my arms." Y/N paused to consider, then promptly deposited half of her loot into his arms. "We shall both carry them, my mother too will be most pleased."

As they set their path for the return journey Aeron hoped and prayed to the gods that they would not come across his friends, who would surely laugh at him for his current state, or god forbid the Blackwood hooligans that terrorised the Bracken borders. His long hair and delicate features, combined with his lack of interest in becoming a fierce warrior had been the grounds for Blackwood insults previously and an armful of flowers would surely provide ample fodder for those craven scoundrels. Even so, he was certain it would be worth it, just to be at Y/N's side. A newfound confidence rose in him. He may not ever be a fearsome warrior but he could yet be brave. He would set aside his insecurities, his fears, and he would win Y/N's affections for himself if he could.

[ruruvxz]

“10:36”

Girlfriend!Kim Minji x Cheater!Reader

ft. Marsh Danielle

↳ synopsis: L/N Y/N, named one of the sweetest girl in the planet finally rots her girlfriend’s heart. Any sane person would feel sad, maybe even a little regretful and accommodating for all their wrong doings. Not Y/N though, she's kept it in for a long time, her heart has gone bitter and cold, and she knows what she’s doing is wrong, but who can blame such a sweetly wretched heart.

↳ cw: cheating, commitment issues, morally gray reader, codependency, Minji is lovesick and blind, hurt no comfort, reader has implied chronic depression, victim blaming, swearing, pure angst

↳ word count: 4.6k

a/n: read this Karina fic where she kept cheating on me… which gave me an striking idea, mentally ill, unapologetic, rude and overall not a good person, Reader! anyways you don’t need to listen to 10:36 but I highly recommend listening to it since it’s such a great song. And yes I am personally beefing with Y/N even if I wrote them (fluff ver. apple cider)

Your eyes looming to the TV, not paying attention to whatever was playing. I mean you couldn't concentrate due to your phone blowing up, notification after notification of all your failed hookups barking at your phone like a rabid pack of dogs. God, do people know when to shut up nowadays? It was aggravating how much they pleaded for closure, and who were they to demand that from you? You're the sweet innocent Y/N L/N after all.

Before you even got to text them back some bullshit excuse your eyes darted to the front from the sudden click. You carefully examined the door pushing it open at an agonizingly slow pace, sighing as your eyes met Minji's as she slid her way inside, her eyes bagging with how deeply exhausted she was. She meets your blank stare with a meek smile, pushing down any emotions built inside of you after your recent rendezvous with another lover, you put on your best fictitious grin.

"Baby!" You cheered, getting up from the leather couch, the same one Minji gifted you when you both first moved in with one another. Quickening your pace as you ran towards her, wrapping your arms around her neck, Minji was left letting out a coy smile before kissing your cheek. Usually, she would be greeted by another empty living room with the kitchen light dimly lighting the surrounding vicinity, it was depressing but she had a 9/5 and you took the night shift. (Or that's what you would tell her.)

Needless to say, seeing your bright smile was more than pleasant, her overworked eyes lightening up as you continued to hug her. "Ah, bug, you're still here?" She smiled hugging you tighter, grasping you almost as if you were to disappear at any moment in time. As you both stand in each other's embrace your mind couldn't help but let your mind drift to someone else.

"Fuck, I wish Danielle was here with me..."

You knew how terrible it was to imagine someone else's grasp, especially since you were imagining your girlfriend's best friend of all people... And to be frank, there was no other valid explanation for feeling this way. But you felt so devoid of any strong emotion, it truly made you feel disgusted with yourself but what could you do?

Minji softly grabbed a piece of your hair to stroke before you eventually led her over to the couch to spend some quality time with her. I mean, that's the least you could do after what you went off doing while she wasn't home.

Danielle messaged you late last night wondering if she could plan an outing for the next day, and you (not-so) hesitantly agreed to her offer. It was a terrible thing to do since you've already learned about her immature crush on you, but it wouldn't lead to anything, right? Nevertheless, you still decided to get lunch together, and she brought you to your favorite hole-in-the-wall restaurant. (Not exactly, in reality, it was something you despised because it was the only restaurant Minji would bring you time and time again. Danielle, and many others, were under the assumption it was somewhere you LOVED going to. And who could blame them, you would always post photos promoting the establishment whilst hiding out Minji from any photo.)

It was a fusion restaurant, but the overall atmosphere was an American-style family diner. The ones you'd see in 80's sitcoms that Minji begged you to watch with you, it was tacky, but they stayed engraved in your head. Danielle would drag you to the table nearest to the window to get the clearest view of the sky, but you'd much rather sit in the booth in the corner, hidden away from the world. Of course, of how accommodating Danielle was she gave in to your request, despite that hiccup the day "outing" continued as scheduled. Eating her meal she ordered claims that the burgers are "The best she's ever had since moving from Australia" but in reality, you think it's nothing special.

You ordered the same thing you usually do, carnitas tacos messily plated on a plastic dish, it usually tasted so bland though somehow sharing it with her tasted so much better than eating it with anyone else. You hated to admit it because you already had someone waiting for you at home but she made the world stop for a bit, made staying still for a moment seem so... bearable. For once in your pathetic existence you felt like you understood something and just wanted to sit down and talk.

"Mmm, Y/N—it's really good!" Danielle spoke up, parts of her burger decorated the corners of her face as she munched. Laughing at her childlike behavior you wipe the excess crumbs off her mouth, noticing her slight blush plaster across her face as you pull back to speak.

"Mhm?" You replied turned off your phone and flipped it over on the table giving her your full attention. Her voice was just too adorable to ignore. You knew you found yourself despicable for giving her more attention than you had given Minji for the past few months. But you couldn't stop yourself, it was so lonely and you just needed a warm body to hold, just until your girlfriend could come back to you.

She nodded her head hurriedly before shoving another fry into her mouth before she spoke once more. "Yup!! Look open your mouth" She'd pick up the fries and line it up up to your mouth, cautiously leaving your mouth agape before she shoved the fries into your mouth. It surprised you how fast she inserted it into your mouth you started aggressively coughing before she apologized profusely.

After your little outbreak, you start laughing uncontrollably at how concerned she looked, she whacked your head from the other side of the table while you continued to laugh. But you didn't have the heart to tell her that the fries she force-fed you tasted like generic McDonald's fries but, with that face, could you say anything? Danielle looked so captivating, an allure you hadn't felt in months, and before you knew it it was already 8:14. Minji comes back at 9 and you shouldn't risk coming home late AGAIN.

"Ah, I'm so sorry Dani, it's already so late, I need to be home at 9." You commented cutting her story off short about how she met up with a coworker of hers during some mindless shopping spree. She looked understanding but disappointed nevertheless as she was hoping she could spend more time with you even if it was in this cramped restaurant.

You looked into her eyes once more before getting up to take your leave, she looked stumped but quickly regained her composure as an idea flashed across her mind. "Okay! I'll drop you off at the train station then!" She stood up and let her hand out for you to grab. Once you stood up she interlocked your fingers together, your heart beating out of your chest as she did. What person would react like this to a friend, let alone someone who was in a relationship, but god were you one sick bastard to reason with yourself? You knew you'd done worse with others so why was this any different?

After minutes of slow walking and talking mindlessly with one another you finally arrived at the station, it was a tad disappointing but you knew it had to end soon. Climbing up the stairs your hands continued to lock in with one another, you felt her suddenly yank away. Turning back to see what happened you noticed one of her heels came off, but coincidentally your train just arrived.

"Oh Y/N go on, I'll get on the other one, it's just another 10 minutes!" She defensively said. Instead of listening to her you ran down the stairs and grabbed her heels, even if you were struggling a little bit to get back up you were happy to help her. You handed her back her heel as you heard the train plow through once more, the screeching metal tracks lingering as it drove off.

Danielle looked down at you as you handed her the heel with a worried face, she looked so bothered but you reassured her. "Even if the train leaves, it's worth it, it's worth waiting for you" You smiled before grabbing her hand once more and dragging her back up to the platform, the light-dark enough to cover her red face.

"Y/N" She laughed as she dropped her bag and hugged you tightly, her embrace was soft and loving you didn't want to leave it. (Nor do you deserve such an affectionate interaction.) You broke the hug before she led you to a, presumably empty, seating area, the sunlight dropping and sinking. While you sat there together Danielle was content sitting down with you in complete silence as it meant being by your side.

"I'm sorry for making you wait." She sighed awkwardly trying to break the silence you created, her body immediately straightened as you rested your head on her shoulder. Her breath hitched as you grabbed her warm hands, the nightfall being significantly colder.

"It's fine that we have to wait, I love you." You trailed off, your mind not proceeding with the bullshit you slurred out of your mouth. It was a force of habit, no matter if it was Danielle or Minji, those stupid strings of words haunted your every moment. (Maybe if you were a little cautious, if you learned to shut your mouth maybe you wouldn't have to be calling people at night while Minji was in deep sleep, explaining in slurred words "I have this thing where I— I can't be by myself— but look...")

The memory of what you accidentally slipped up to Danielle came back to haunt you, why would you ever say that, but regardless you couldn't break your facade now, not with Minji resting quietly on your lap. "How was your day love" You twirled her hair as she dozed off by your touch, she was so soft and delicate. It reminded you of how she'd do the same after a long day, her hands caressing your head like a dog. She was silent but that's who she was. As you ran your hand through her jet-black hair, you were all over he, losing yourself, all before she snapped you out of your daze to speak. "It was okay, but great now that you're with me." She smiled underneath you, she reached her hand above to your face to caress your mellow cheeks, and your heart ached as she did so.

"How was yours, my dear?" She lifted her head dragging you a bit down to intertwine your lips tenderly, as she pulled back and laid back down on your thighs you felt your teeth sink into your lips. It was a force of habit but thank god she hadn't noticed as her head was locked into the TV, you felt yourself about to throw up at the idea of telling her what you did. As usual, you tried to play off what happened this afternoon like nothing happened.

Your hands shook as you continued to play with her hair wondering what lies you would spit through your teeth. "Mmm, nothing much I hung out with some friends then went back home to wait for my wonderful girlfriend." You beamed smiling hopelessly to not break the persons you've created.

"Friends, who? I'd love to meet them." She chuckled, turning her head back to meet your gaze, your hands slowly lifting up and away from her head. You rested them on the armrest, coughing at the thought of her finding you were out and about with her best friends who she didn't even know you talked to.

"Just Dani! She's asked me if she wanted to get lunch with her." You answered honestly, if you hadn't you knew you'd just dig yourself a deeper hole and lead to another heated argument, where you'd end up running off to sleep the night somewhere else.

"Oh." She scoffed, the realization of her best friend and her girlfriend being closer than she'd expected hurt her feelings a little more than it originally should've.

"What's wrong with that." You bite back, annoyed about how sassy she was becoming day by day, as if you were doing something— someone, she wasn't aware of.

"It's just... didn't know you were close with her like that." She raised her body from my lap and sat properly looking me in the eye, clearly annoyed by the situation. (To be fair, as hard as you tried to be sneaky with your late-night affairs, by claiming you had a night shift, she picked up on your inconsistencies fairly quickly. How you'd leave either before she arrived or after she slept became more and more oddly suspicious. Or how you'd often slip your phone away to your back pocket whenever she came closer to you. It was all messing with her brain and the sudden "connection" you had with Danielle made her more and more suspicious.)

"I guess but isn't, Dani—Danielle one of your closest friends, yet you talk shit like this about her?" You retorted, trying to hide your offense terribly at her statement, of course, she didn't mean any harm with what she said but it felt as if she was insinuating something. Something you didn't like. You took off your gaze from hers as you rested your head on your palm and raised the volume of the TV to drown her out.

Rightfully annoyed at your reaction she raised her voice just a little bit. "Well sorry, I'm sorry I feel uncomfortable by the fact you chose to get lunch with my friend, instead of your girlfriend!" She rolled her eyes and folded her arms, her frustration was enough to cause global warming. You bite your tongue once more, you didn't want to say anything you regretted but you couldn't just let her take a jab at you without any conviction.

"I mean, she didn't do anything to you? Yet you're being so aggressive." You replied as you grabbed the remote with your free hand to skim through the channels, every new show being broadcast made you even more aggravated. How could there be nothing good showing? You mashed the next button again and again as you heard her open her mouth once more.

"That's not what I meant it's just, for the past few months you've cared about going out with me? Sorry for feeling like that's so terrible!" She scorned as you still didn't pay any attention to her, continuing to skim through the shows on air today. You pushed your tongue to the inside corner of your cheek before you asserted another retort.

"Maybe if you weren't always so defensive and angry I would hang out with you" You laugh sarcastically under your breath annoyed, and you finally landed on Law & Order. It was Minji's comfort show but you couldn't care less about what she liked right now, all you wanted her to do was pipe down and calm down. She clenched her jaw at how dismissive and disrespectful you were, the fact you weren't even looking at Minji added more salt to the wounds.

She grabbed your shoulder yanking you hard enough to look at her, you paid her one single glance before swatting her hand away from my shoulder. She looked dumbfounded, as for the first time in her life she finally raised her voice, this time with real intention to get off on you. "What the fuck— Y/N! What is up with you recently??"

Oh, she's testing you right now, your blood pressure has risen significantly and you felt it harder to focus on what they were saying in the show. Finally giving in you pushed your head to lock into her enraged state. "You know what's fucking 'up with me' it's your attitude? I can't even hang out with my friends anymore?"

Minji was most definitely fed up at this point as she stared back at you, clenching her fist, stopping her from saying something atrocious. "Oh no you DEFINITELY can, you know what you can't do? Fucking leave your girlfriend in the middle of the night saying you have a night shift and leave me alone in our bed!" She spat out as she stood up trying to get that notion into your thick skull.

"I'd rather be in someone else's embrace than be with yours! FUCK, you're so fucking suffocating!" You shouted back, quickly regretting what you said, realizing a little too late that you had released a bit more information than you were trying to let on. But before you could take it back and apologize she was already standing over you, her hands covering her mouth.

Minji’s jaw unclenched, processing every word that came out of your mouth. "What." Her voice sounded shaky, she tried her hardest to sound stern but you knew her long enough to know it was just a facade. Her face turned into someone who had just been told their loved one died, completely and utterly in disbelief.

It hurt seeing Minji so hurt, but it felt so good to get that out of your chest, she's been suffocating you for a year now, she should know where you’re coming from. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying for fairly long but after moving in with her it became harder to leave. "Fuck. It’s just—" You stopped before continuing “I wanna love you but I'm scared so I rather pretend”  You stood up and turned your body away from her, you didn't want to look at her at all. If you did, maybe you’d just run back by her side and then the cycle continues once more.

She covered her face between her palms, and looked up at the ceiling, just praying she'd wake up from this sick and twisted dream. "Y/N, please tell me. Are you?" She mumbled underneath her hands, but enough for me to tell what she said.

"Am I, what? Am I cheating on you?" You turned back at her with a disgusted face, not at her, but at yourself, you couldn’t fathom how you’d do something like this. After all, you experienced the same thing. You felt sick to your stomach but you knew she should already puzzle the answer together, yet she's still trying to ask.

"Just answer the fucking question" Her voice bubbling up with rage, after all the years of committing herself to you, you turn your back and do this? Oh how badly she wanted to make your life miserable after this. But a part of her didn't want to ask this question, she wanted, somehow, someway, you would turn a full 180 and tell her this was all some sick twisted joke.

“Fuck you Y/N… truly, fuck you— you kept me like a secret but I kept you like a fucking oath.” She spat out, grabbing out to you, the weight of your actions felt like a knife digging itself deeper into your heart. You were too cowardly to look at her, let alone answer her question. For someone so confident about cheating on her, you know stood in front of her unwilling to face the consequences.

"I—“ You cut yourself off, you did feel awful as you stared into her fiery gaze, but what was the point she already knew? "I’m so sorry.” You blurted out, it honestly came out as a statement then it did an apology, and by the looks of it, she looked even more infuriated.

"FUCK Y/N, PLEASE JUST ANSWER THE QUESTION!" She screamed at you, making you jump a little, but with your broken ego, you weren’t going to take that, with crossed arms you announced your wholehearted answer.

"Yeah, I did, and it wasn’t with Danielle. Don’t worry about her…" You bitterly bit back trying to get it in through to her, you were truly so despised at this moment, but to save face you preached some half-assed excuse.

"You know Minji, it isn’t my fault— You're selfish, how do you not get it. For as long as I remember you've only ever thought about yourself." You said, leaving Minji to stand in utter anguish at the shit you were spewing. How could she be the selfish one? You bit back your tongue before realizing this was probably the only moment to let out everything you’ve built up over your whole relationship.

"I reach for you and you’re not there, I'm so fucking numb but you don't care. A part of me feels for you, but it hurts, it hurts so much." Her stare etching deeper into your mind, she didn’t bite back, but you could see through her fuming portrayal that tears were pooling from her eyes.

"enlighten me, my dear, why am I still here? Why did you even— why did you even pick me? You don't talk to me, you never want to talk about anything and you’re always just with Hanni. I know you're confused and hurt, but when I needed a warm body to hold, you were never there. And when you where you wanted too much from me— I didn’t know how I could give you everything" You inched closer to her wiping the tears off her face, she placed her hand on top of yours. Maybe this was the only emotionally intimate time you both had in months. As you rested her hand on her plush cheeks, you took a moment to appreciate her beauty one last time, she was gorgeous, undoubtedly, gorgeous.

(You couldn’t admit to yourself that this reminded you about the first time you met, your eyes locked with hers as she stumbled out of another stress-inducing meeting. She looked so out of it so you graciously offered her your apple cider, under the pretense that it was apple juice. You examined her as you were a bit surprised a young girl like her was working this late into the night, it was already 10:36. You looked back at her while stopping to laugh loudly as her eyes winced while chugging down your drink. She looked so annoyed but somewhat happy she met you, her drowsy eyes lighting up as you offered to get her an actual drink at a nearby bar. You had a bad habit of analyzing her, her hair smelt like a sweet fruit punch, and her smile was so infectious.

You remember holding her face just like this as you led her back to her apartment, she looked dazed out of her mind as you pulled her on her leather couch to rest. In a drunken state, she commented on how she liked your hair and pulled you down into her lap to play with it. You couldn’t stop your face from heating up but she didn’t happen to notice, she looked down at you and complimented the jacket you wore. So after that you always wore it, and even at this exact moment, you were wearing that stupid jacket once more.)

"I didn’t— as much as I hate you right now maybe we just got lost in translation… no— maybe I asked for too much." She weakly smiled biting back her rage while staring deeply at you.

"I've done the math there's no solution, we'll never last, I’m so sorry Minji, there’s just no universe where I can see our happy ending." Minji closed her eyes, biting her lips, maybe she already lost you, or maybe she never had you in the beginning, but all she knew this would be your last moments holding each other. Your heart constantly aching throughout the whole ordeal, as she leaned her head closer to yours your lips slowly touched, having one last passionate kiss, until you broke it up. Minji looked at you with sorrowful yet entrancing eyes as she connected your foreheads, forcing you both to lie in the moment.

"in the morning you're not in my bed, I'll just sleep until I fall dead, my love" She joked weakly as you intertwined your lips together once more before letting out a deep sigh. "I guess this is where you get your stuff and leave, Y/N" She pathetically laughed and more tears streamed down her face.

"Yeah, don't worry I'll be gone by tomorrow..." You turned away taking a breather, before taking one last look at the living room that we had built together. The walls were decorated with inside jokes and pictures you took together, you inspected every one of them, knowing she’d probably throw them out later on in life. Your eyes landed on the coffee pot she gifted you on your anniversary, she built it during her pottery lessons to surprise you, it didn’t work so well, but it was cute. You sigh as you look at the pictures all from different occasions like when you celebrated your first Christmas with her, or when she met your parents, the memories of each decoration hitting you like a train.

"Where are you going to go?" She asked trying to figure out where you’ll run off to now, you laughed for a moment, before looking back at her. Her hands balling up as she awaited your answer, you cupped her face again and smiled at her question.

"Probably crash out with my ex-roommate if she still has a spare room somewhere."

"Oh, uhm…" She laughed elegantly and hugged you tightly not wanting to let you go. "I'll drop you off wherever— whenever you need to go, just please stay with me tonight. It's only…” She trailed off looking at the clock.

“10:36,” You both say in unison.

guys count how much I referenced other songs… anyways back to writing fluff im literally started to tweak out

[luna-the-moth]

Mirror sex with Azul? Baby boy needs to learn to love himself 💜

AGREED. Sweet and soft sex has me so so weak and this kickstarted up a lot of worms in my head ,, , so i wrote a fic LOL. this was so lovely to write anon i lowkey felt possessed writing it ashdifu

18+ // gn! softdom! reader // sub! Azul with stretch marks and chub // body dysmorphia // self-directed fatphobia on Azul’s end // mirror sex // body worship // praise // eating (azul's) cum // handjob // “angelfish” used to refer to reader

WC: 1.3k

“In addition, it’s said to have a slimming effect that reduces the appearance of one’s, ah, excess,” Azul muses, thumbing through a catalog. “It seems like a good investment, does it not?”

You pause, turning to face him. 

“...your body isn’t ugly, Azul.”

“I didn’t say it was,” he retorts, the playfulness in his voice strained. 

“You didn’t say it explicitly, you mean,” you reply, taking the catalog from his hand and setting it down on the table gently but firmly, your other hand moving to cup his chin in your hand. He swallows and averts his gaze, hands settling on your waist, butterfly-light. 

“Apologies, Angelfish.”

You soften at that, running a thumb over his cheek before kissing him, drawing a finger down the front of his collar before lightly tugging at the first button. His grasp around your waist tightens.

“Let me know if you want me to stop at any point, ok?” 

He nods, a blush creeping up his cheeks and ears. You kiss him on the neck, smiling. 

Limbs entangled, the two of you stumble to the corner of the bed in front of a full-length mirror handcrafted in the Coral Sea. You let go for a moment to turn him around, spreading your legs, allowing him to settle against your chest. His body trembles, fingers grasped tight around the silk sheets underneath him as his head rests tentatively against your shoulder. His eyes are shut, unwilling, unable to look ahead and see what’s reflected.

His silk nightshirt is half unbuttoned, your hands having run up underneath them to play with his nipples. They pebble underneath your touch, and he whines as you tease and tug at them slightly, writhing in your grasp. Rubbing soothing circles over the soft fat of his thighs, you press a kiss to his earlobe.

“Are you comfortable, ‘Zul?”

“Yes,” he whines, one of his hands blindly reaching out to the back of your head. 

“Good.” You leave a gentle bite on his shoulder, running your tongue over it in apology as he lets out a shaky moan. The sight in the mirror makes you smirk, and you gently grasp his chin in your hand, turning him towards his reflection. 

“Look at yourself, Azul.”

Teary eyes snap open to meet your own in the mirror and he gasps.

Azul is a vision. His hair, meticulously styled, has loosened and become undone, the silky strands laying carelessly across his forehead. A hickey blooms across his collarbone, complemented by the pinkness of his blush. A faint trail of drool gleams from the corner of his lip.

But what stands out to him is well, him.

Azul took great pride in having maintained his figure, having come far from the “crybaby tako” of his youth, but he seldom took the time to look at the physical reminders of his former self. His usual attire gave him a slimming effect, at least to others. Nevertheless, there’s still a bit of chub on him— particularly on his thighs and stomach— despite his attempts to render it nonexistent. Lighting strikes of stark white run across his skin, and he whimpers as he realizes that you’re tracing them with your free hand.

He wanted to turn his head in embarrassment, in shame, yet he can’t quite look away. You’re looking at him from over his shoulder, the expression on your face nothing less than fond. 

“You’re being so good for me, Azul,” you purr, lavishing the side of his neck with kisses. “Do you see how beautiful you are?” A faint whine leaves his lips. He begins to squirm, but you shush him quietly, placing a soothing hand on his chest. 

“When I tell you I love you, I mean all of you. That includes these,” you bring a hand over his to trail over his stretch marks, “and these,” your other hand moves to gently hold his rolls, squishing the soft fat with emphasis. Your lips settle on his shoulder in a kiss. 

A faint sob wrenches itself from his chest and he turns his head towards you, tears beginning to trace the skin of his cheek. You raise your head and your lips meet his own tenderly, willing for your love and adoration of him to be transferred through your kiss. 

 The hand that had been stroking his stretch marks goes to the waistband of his underwear behind his pants, tugging the soft fabric downwards. He acquiesces to your silent request and raises his hips, letting the clothing slip to the floor. He shudders in pleasure as your nails drag lightly over his skin, reaching up to touch your chest.

You pull away with a hum. 

“Not tonight. I want the focus to be on you.”

He feels himself ache at your words. In the back of his mind he knows he’ll want to pay back the favor— he’s never quite gotten used to ones not meant to be returned— but all he can do in the moment is let out a faint moan of your name and bury his head in your shoulder, frustrated in his desire. 

You laugh at that, carefully prying him off of you with a few kisses as bribery. Facing the mirror again, Azul’s head goes fuzzy seeing his cock erect in want, pearls of pre-cum dripping off of the head. One of your hands has gone to idly tease his chest, rolling a nipple in between dexterous fingers as you watch his reaction. He gasps as your free hand wraps around him, your thumb circling the blushing red head of his cock.

Azul arches his back and whines as the fabric of his partially undone nightshirt brushes against his sensitive skin, his head leaning back against your shoulder. Your fingers have moved to wrap against his cock fully, running up and down his length as his hips stutter, and you press a kiss to his sweating forehead. Leaning back against the bed with one hand to stabilize yourself, you slowly grind against Azul’s backside, silk pressing against skin.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” you groan, throwing your head back for a moment as you bask in the feeling of his cock moving back and forth in your hand, the softness of his skin, and his panting breaths against your neck as he struggles to speak coherently. A sudden grasp on your thighs pulls you out of your reverie, and you look to see a visage as lovely as the Fairest Queen.

Azul’s flushed face meets your own, his skin shiny in sweat as he looks at you, eyes wide and pleading. His mouth is parted, pink tongue hanging out ever so slightly as drool turns his lips and chin glossy. He’s so, so beautiful. 

“Please…” He begs, nails scratching against your thighs.

You kiss him, then, moving to tighten your hold around his cock for a moment and the faint jerking motions of his hips stutter, his entire body shuddering in pleasure as he lets out whines of your name against your lips. The motions of your hand continue steadily, and you continue until he begins to hiss in overstimulation, hands clumsily batting your arm in protest. 

Once his breaths have evened out and his body has practically melted in pleasure, you reach the hand now covered in his spend up to your lips. It shimmers faintly in the dim lighting of Azul’s bedroom, and you clean it off of your fingers with relish, narrowing your eyes playfully at Azul when you catch him watching. 

“Let's get you cleaned up then, yeah?” You hum, gently petting his hair with your uncovered hand. He whines at that, burrowing his face into your neck, arms going to drape themselves around your shoulders. A petulant “no,” is murmured faintly against your skin, and you huff a laugh before holding him even closer to you. 

Cleaning up could wait, then. 

a/n: reblogs and comments appreciated <3 lmk if you would like to hear more!

[soullessdianthus]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐘 | 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐔

❗ APOLOGIES for the tag list in the comments, Tumblr has an issue with tagging more than 5 people ❗

Summary: Victorian AU where you are hired by Lord Simon Riley as his housekeeper in the secluded countryside. Besides the gardener - Johnny, you barely sees anyone around the house and the strange things begin to happen around you. The manor, or rather its residents, hides a terryfing secret.

AO3 link ⟶ 𝕏

A/N: Huge thanks to @starsexplodeatnight who was so kind and sweet to help me with the fashion aspects of this fic. ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Also, won't lie, @ohbo-ohno's works and Ghoap dynamics inspired me to go back to the roots and to write some darker, gothic romance with Ghoap and Reader. At least I tried. ╮(￣▽￣"")╭

Warnings: dark themes, religious themes, dubcon/noncon (full list on Ao3)

Word count: 7.6k

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐄

Lord Riley’s house seemed to be alive at times. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames. 

You hated how untamed your imagination was especially after nightfall, when the darkness creeped in every hollow and corner of the manor. Since the first day, every night you would leave a single candle lit on the bedside table just to ease the vivid imaginations. When you were a child your mother scolded you about reading such profanities about ghosts and curses. 

And now you knew why. If the candle wasn't lit, strange figures danced in the shadows, their eyes imprinting into your skin and if were they real, would they try to hurt you or rather warn you?

But now, as a grown up woman, those nightmares of your childhood came back to haunt you once again. 

With all of your heart you were grateful for Sir Jonathan Price, a friend of your family, who helped you get into Lord Riley’s favour. It was him who wrote a letter of recommendation to make it easier for you to find a good, suitable job as a woman of your status. 

But he didn’t mention once that the manor was so far from civilization. 

Johnny quickly became your closest confidant around here. A Scottish gardener whose brown hair reached down to his broad shoulders and sparkly eyes in the colour of clear sky. He took care of the gardens as well as master’s horses and sometimes you could find him repairing a fence or something of sort. Johnny was a hardworking man, only a few years older than you, but he was also gentle, clever and jolly.

Such an opposite to Lord Simon who was everything but what Scot was – silent, harsh former lieutenant who would rather spend his time in the solitude of his chambers. Otherwise he would go on a ride or hunt into the forest on one of his favourite studs. Simon’s face was pale as a ghost’s and covered with shallow scars, remnants of his service in the army. 

Nonetheless, the tall, portly man seemed to enjoy your presence, if you dared to assume that, purely because you were quick to adapt. Lord liked his silence and you did not want to disturb your master’s peace, wouldn’t you? 

Within a week you have learned the following pattern – each day started with breakfast, which you ate alongside Lord, sporadically noticing the presence of busy cook, Kyle Garrick, who didn’t happen to talk much. Then, you would proceed with your everyday duties. Which did not include sneaking around to go and talk with the gardener, but nevertheless you did.  

And as the evening would finally come, you were sitting in the playroom of the manor embroidering while Mr. Riley was reading his book. Even Johnny was allowed to come sit with both of you, gnawing at the wooden pipe between his teeth. It all felt so domestic in such a short period of time. 

And how could you believe such gossip about Lord’s hospitality, or rather its lacking, hearsay in the city? 

Sundays were always a day of rest. You were sitting in your bedroom on the highest floor, reading one of the novels you brought from home. Too entertained with the story, you blindly reached for the cup of tea standing nearby. The noise of ceramic pot splattering across the floor caused you to tense immediately. 

It shattered to pieces. Such a waste, it was a pretty one. 

You closed the book with a sigh and set it aside, slowly walking towards a storage on this floor. With a small broom in your hand you returned to your room only to find it oddly… clean. The staining of spilled tea on the flooring was gone just as the bits of what was left of the floral cup. 

Almost like it never even happened. 

Your eyes wandered across the chamber, searching for the mess you just made. But every little trace of it was gone. You kneeled down and looked under each piece of furniture. Still, nothing was found, a broken teapot swallowed by the void.

Slowly you retracted from the room onto the long hallway, searching for the maids or signs of their presence. It must have been one of them, right?

— Hello? — You asked with hesitation in your voice, but there was no living soul to answer you back. Not nearby anyways. 

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈

Coos of the crows and rattle of their wings echoed through the old trees. And although the sky was grey and cloudy that day, no rain had yet fallen. Alongside Johnny, you went for an afternoon stroll down the borderline of the forest, enjoying a minute of break.

— How long have you been working for Lord Simon? 

— A couple of years now — the man reached down the wild grain growing on the field and plucked a single piece. He continued to play with it between his thick digits, brows narrowed as he reflected on his further answer. — He hired and gave me a roof over my head when I retired from service.

— You were a soldier too?

Johnny nodded with a simple “aye” and you smiled.

— What?

— Nothing. Didn’t think such a gentle gardener was once enlisted. 

— Yeah? Didn’t think a pretty lass like yourself would be so nosy. — He smacked the tip of your nose with the stalk he was holding. 

Your cheeks grew rosy and warm, when he paid you a compliment. Not that you were a prude! Actually far from that, but it was just that Johnny was so charming and he definitely knew how to sweet talk to a woman like you. 

— Not nosy, it’s considered rude — you explain to him, fidgeting with your fingers yet a smile is painted upon your face. — “Curious” I think suits me better. Those who spread gossip about others’ affairs and tragedies are the nosy ones. See, that’s the difference. 

Johnny stopped suddenly and took your hand into his palms. He held you gently, almost like you were made out of glass and he, with his admirable strength, could break you into pieces. What a great waste it would be to destroy such a pure soul. He leaned closer to your ear, warm breath tickling your sensitive skin and your heart almost jumped out of the ribcage. Should his closeness excite you so much? Should a grown woman be this rash?

— Only if we were seen by someone, here on the glade, alone. Scandalous — the man mocked such behaviours, while brushing a single strand of your hair behind the ear. — What would they think, hm? 

Before you took a step back, your gaze met his for a brief moment. There was a hint of curiosity and playfulness in his blue eyes. And perhaps something else, something much more obvious than you believed it was. 

Something that made men weak.

— Right, what would they say, Johnny? Who? — You asked him playfully, though your expression was full of sorrow. —  I barely see anyone around the house. I’m starting to believe those servants are some… ghouls living in the attic or they simply avert me so often. 

— Lord likes his peace, they work as if they weren’t there. Just as it needs to be. 

— It’s been some days now and I hadn’t met any of them. You’re the only person who actually talks to me. Don’t you get lonely there?

— Simon’s and your presence is enough for me. And well, it’s nice to talk to Mr. Garrick sometimes. 

— He talks to you? 

The cold breeze danced through your hair, causing you to shiver. Dry and brittle leaves crunched under your soles when the two of you continued to walk down the old pathway. 

— Autumn here is tough, lass, you should have worn a sweater. We should head back home, the nightfall is coming. 

You loathed the cold weather and how freezing the chambers got in the morning. Your first winter in England’s countryside might not be as pleasant as you thought it would be, with cold feet and no one in the manor to warm your spirit up. 

No peers, no guests, no neighbours. Just you, Johnny and Lord Riley.

You stood back in the middle of your quarter, looking at everything and anything at the same time. Each detail like a porcelain vase with flowers or lace tablecloth looked so neat, with no sign of dust it was almost impossible. Many questions were stacked inside of your head. 

Was your chamber cleaned every single day? If so, when did they do it? And why hadn't you even bumped into any of the servants of the manor? Yes, the building was large, but at some point you had to meet the staff, right? 

It has officially been two weeks since you moved to live and work here. Although using the word “work” was far-fetched. You hoped to become a governess to Lord Riley’s children, but that dream was quickly demolished as he had none. So then it was told that you were responsible for the house work, but there was no one to supervise as they were constantly hiding from you. So you were sitting there at the end of the day in a living room, chaperoning your Lord. This time without Johnny.

Fireplace was spitting long flames, popping ashes into the air. The interior was welcoming, when the wind behind the windows grew stronger. A storm was coming. 

— May I ask you a question, Sir? — You had put aside your embroidery set, before finally asking. The blonde man hummed, eyes still transfixed on the lecture he was reading. — How often do the maids come to my room?

— As often as needed. Why?

— I wanted to rearrange my quarters this morning, just to push the bed closer to the wall, but when I returned from the afternoon stroll, it was back in its primary place. 

— Then they fixed the furniture, didn’t they? 

You had a feeling that was not the case. You scratched the flooring during the first attempt, if the staff was to push the bed back to its origins, they would only do further damage. Yet, the wooden planks were brand as new. No signs of any scratches.

Were you hysterical? Was it all your vivid imagination?

— But it’s heavy, my Lord.

— And yet you managed to move it. So did they. 

Lord Riley was grumpy again, his voice hoarse and accent thick. 

You once again took the needle threaded with string into your fingers and returned to the unfinished piece, but the urge to continue pushing him was stronger. You might rather bite your tongue in the future. 

— Maybe I should talk with them and explain that I prefer it the other way. 

— I prefer when the rules of my household are followed. You wouldn’t have such an idea if you didn’t have so much free time.

Your hands dropped to your lap as you abruptly looked at him, slightly offended. And even though Lord tried to conceive this, you noticed how the edges of his lips twitched in a tiny smile. He was toying with you.

Simon was strict. Perhaps he never abandoned the military's rules and drills. He was an adamant man who valued his own comfort. That means, obeying his rules. 

— Come, I might have an idea how to keep you busy.

The Lord of the house rose from his seat. Each time you stood next to him, you were intimidated by his height and solid build. Despite being off duty, he kept his admirable physics of a Greek god. 

At least that is how the books you kept so dear to your heart described the brave warriors. 

You followed the master into his private library and patiently stood right behind him, when he was searching for a certain book. Finally he reached a thick tome in your direction – “A Mortal Immortal” by Mary Shelley. 

— Here, this may interest you — but when you stretched out to receive it, he moved the novel out of your reach. — Ah, ah. What do we say?

— Thank you. For borrowing me your book. 

— However, when I think about it, I’m worried this will only worsen your… troubled mind.

— My mind?

— Johnny told me you worry too much about some nonsense that should not be your priority in the first place. You’re letting this place and its solitude haunt you. Are you of a weak mind, girl? — You quickly understood what he was referring to, so to prove the point you denied the vile accusation. — So, I’d recommend you stop being childish and focus on your chores. Then everything will be alright, understood? 

— I’m not childish.

— Is that clear? — He repeated with much harsher tone.

You nodded slightly, barely visible, but enough to agree with the Lord.

— Now, go to your chamber, it’s getting late. 

His dark eyes carefully inspected your figure. You noticed him staring at your neckline for far too long than what was decent. His coarse hand swiped over yours when he was giving you the book. The cold metal of his signet felt like a thousand sharp stings. 

What kind of game was the Lord of Riley Manor playing with you? 

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈

The simmering sound of something powerful cracking snatched you from the peaceful dream. Every muscle in your body tensed and you sat up, holding the duvets tight when a thunder enlightened the black sky. Your heart beated fast within its cage of bones and breath shattered, anticipating.

Surely, thunderstorms can happen in late autumn, but you had never predicted it to happen this night. You felt uneasy, when another loud rumble made you scared. Then there was the banging window frame, somewhere in the long hallway and those horrible, horrible whistles of wind. They sound almost like human cries. 

At first you ducked down beneath the covers to shield yourself from the haunting sounds, thinking that the servants would take care of the open window. But minutes passed and they didn’t. 

With a lit candle on a metal holder you walked down the corridor, the flame being the only source of light. 

So when the wind coming through the window blew it off, you gasped loudly in panic – you barely saw your own hands in front of you!

— No, no, no…

You almost screamed when someone placed their hand upon your shoulder and then your mouth. A familiar figure was illuminated by another lighting. You could never mistake those blue eyes for another. 

— Shh, bonnie. It’s me — Johnny whispered, slowly uncovering your mouth. — I heard the fuss. You alright? 

— Actually, no… Did you hear those sounds?

Your hands squeezed the candle holder, when the gardener rushed to close the open window. You shivered, only a thin layer of nightgown covering your skin. You looked behind, checking if you were alone in the hallway. It certainly felt like you weren’t. It had to be the ghouls. 

— What sounds? 

— Howling, distressed cries? Wails? I-I heard them in my chamber. 

— You’re scared of the storms?

— No, that’s not-

— It’s okay to get spooked sometimes — he cut you off and grabbed your hand, slowly leading you back where you came from. — Come, let’s get you to your room.

— Oh, don’t belittle me. — You frowned upon him, yet you doubt he had seen it. You clung to his strong arm like a scared girl, not eager to get lost in the darkness again. 

— That was not my intention. Was just trying to comfort you.

When you finally reached your room, you couldn’t find the strength to let go of his hand. You interlocked your smooth and delicate fingers with his digits.

— Please, Johnny, don’t go. I’m… scared. 

— Of thunder? — He chuckled, petting the palm of your hand. 

— No, this place. Something is not right, please, I–

— It’s okay, you got scared a little, that’s all. You really want me to stay? 

You shuddered when taking a deep breath, calculating every possible consequence of this decision.

This was not right. 

— Yes.

When he stepped inside of the room, a rush of excitement flooded your veins and sank on the bottom of your stomach. Perhaps it was foolish and considered promiscuous inviting a man into your bedroom, but your body and heart desired otherwise. 

Johnny’s presence brought you comfort that you were longing for, his touch ascended your worries to the void and filled the troubled mind with pleasure. Nothing else.

Without a word spoken the two of you moved to the narrow, still warm bed and climbed under the sheets. Johnny captured your head between his hands and pulled in a gentle kiss on the lips. In his performance he was eager, sloppy yet charming. One of his palms gripped your hip through the crumpled material, just as you hooked one of your thighs over his hip. 

Foolish, foolish girl. 

— You’re so pretty — he whispered through the thick air as he pressed his forehead to yours. The curve of his nose filled your bridge as you looked at him from under your lashes. — The moment I first saw you getting out of the coach, that day you arrived, I knew I couldn’t ever let you go, bonnie.

Johnny swiftly moved on top of your lying form, holding that one thigh open. He continued the passionate assault on your lips, carefully rolling the hem of your nightgown up. 

Your body was on fire, everything inside of you screamed this was wrong, but somehow, the sinner inside of you called for him. For his touch, for his affection and his sweet, sweet nectar. 

Only when he started caressing your mound and its slit did you acknowledge where his hand wandered. And although his skin was rather tough  from all the years of hard work, his touch was gentle and surprisingly precise. You gasped lovely. It didn’t take that much of a hassle for him to make you wet and eager down there.

— Oh, Johnny… 

His name rolled off your tongue like honey, a music to his ears. It wasn’t long enough before he was grinding over your thigh with his excited and leaking length. 

— You are what we needed. A little warm sunshine, eh? 

Did you hear “we”?

But before you could ask him, he began stretching your cunt a little bit too carelessly to your liking. All his prudence was gone, as he got drunk on your scent and how you felt around him. Your hand gripped his bicep and your glossy eyes went wide like a scared doe. 

— Johnny, Johnny, slow — you breathed out through muffled whine and the man atop of you stilled. — Slow, please.

He could feel how your heart pumped within your veins. 

— I’m sorry, bonnie. Let me kiss it better — the gardener leaned down to pepper your face with kisses. And when he got to the sweet spot on your neck, you giggled — shh, we don’t want to wake him, don’t we? 

Obviously he meant Lord Simon. 

He set a steady yet bearable rhythm as his hips rolled into you in waves. His chest was close to yours, brushing sensitive nipples through the thin fabric of a nightgown. You were pushed into the cushioned pillow, hair splayed beneath like roots of the ancient tree. 

You felt so lightheaded yet so good at the same time. Sparkling, increasing sensation tickling the nerves and blinding the vision. Johnny was all you could experience in that moment. He was the only thing you could smell, touch and taste, when he was trying to steal the air from your lungs. You fell into the abyss of pleasure quickly, all the latest worries fading away.

And the horribly loud storm? Didn’t matter at that moment. All thunders quietened down and the entire world could be burning in flames and ashes, but you wouldn’t even notice. 

The man moaned deeply from his throat, when he got closer to his peak, hips frantically snapping against yours. You barely managed to entangle your shaking fingers within his brown hair, right above the nape of the lover’s neck. With one more final thrust both of you indulged sweet, sweet pleasure.

Johnny stayed until the morning came, just as he promised. With an expression of pure ecstasy and lust, you snuggled into his chest. He wrapped a pair of arms around you and for the first time since the arrival you felt at peace sleeping in the manor. The candle remained snuffed out. 

In the morning of the following day, you went to the city with Mrs. Garrick to receive the remaining letters and a few other errands. You and the cook split to settle matters quickly. 

The post office was a small place with barely anyone inside but a friendly looking old lady behind the counter. 

— Good morning, I’d like to receive the mail for Lord Riley.

You put on a polite smile, walking closer to the counter and removing the bonnet from your head.

— So you are the new housekeeper, I’ve heard about you. It’s been a while since someone got his letters, guess he still ain’t leaving the house?

— No, ma’am. Lord is rather… — you paused, searching for the right description of your employer — a private person. 

— Always had been, even before he went to war. But oh, that was years ago, I hope he softened at least a little. Such a sad and grumpy boy he was. 

There was something in the way she phrased it that made your body still. Blood got so heated up anyone that touched you could feel it on the outside. Did she mean the previous Lord, father of Simon Riley? But that couldn’t be the case, this title was newly found when he returned from the war. So what was this all about? 

— Forgive me, you said “years ago”? How long ago was it? You see, I’m not from here and the Lord doesn’t share much about himself.

— Of course he does not and do not expect otherwise — she waved with her wrinkled finger, before reaching for the bile of letters from the shelf behind her. — It was around twenty five years ago, Lord Riley was the same age as my son when he joined the Queen’s army.

— I see. 

You were confused, extremely confused. The blonde Lord with scarred face did not look a year past his thirties, how could this be that he enlisted quarter of century ago? At that moment you felt so horrified by this anomaly. 

Through the rest of the day and the day that followed, the old maiden aunt’s words echoed inside of your head:

— I am surprised anyone actually was willing to take that job. Lord Riley is a… forgive me for speaking so freely, but he’s a strange man who abandoned the word of God years ago. Why do you think he got pushed away from the post earlier? 

He was…? 

You didn’t look the same into the depths of the windows of the Manor, nor did you stare at the dark corner of the hall. Every sound of wood creaking sent shivers down your spine. They were coming. 

Oh God, have you gone mad?  

𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈𝐈

You stirred the porridge over and over again, watching as the gooey mush slipped from the spoon down to its den. Despite the tremendous amount of honey you added it still tasted rather bitter this morning. 

— Did you finish?

— Excuse me?

You tightened the hold over the silver spoon when Lord’s hoarse voice brought you back to the eerie reality. 

— The book. I asked if you finished the book? — Blonde man raised his thick brow in question, curiously looking at you from his own plate. 

— Oh, yes, yes. I enjoyed it, however I found Winzy’s life quite miserable to be honest. And tragic.

— Why so? 

— Well, he lost the woman he loved so dearly and then had to continue living eternally without her. Imagine how lonely his life had to be, when he must have outlived every single friend he had made. 

— If he was so miserable as you say, then why wouldn’t he just end his suffering and join the woman he claimed to love? Maybe he didn’t really care after all. — Simon leaned back in his chair, exhaling loudly. — I sometimes wonder what his life would look like if he had given the potion to Bertha. A pair of immortals walking this earth, would they become some sort of Gods?

— Doesn’t the thought of living so long… make you feel… I don’t know, unease , my Lord?

— No. I’ve seen worse things than an old man. Those who fear death might go to extremes just to avoid their end.  

— We were not made to live forever, don’t we? We should not play God.

— There is no God, sweet girl. Only sinners and fools. Those who play and those who lose. Are you a loser?

— No, Sir. 

His dark eyes glowed in a mysterious manner as the silence fell between you two. The man was bright and had seen right through you. 

— Good. If we speak of the matter of sinners, I’d like to make one thing clear.

The Lord stood up from his seat, putting the white napkin on the table. His figure loomed closer toward his housekeeper and finally leaned on one of his hands over you. You could feel his breath on your neck, his closeness made you shiver. 

— You’ve been living under my roof and by now you should know I despite disobedience and liars. 

— I am no liar, Sir. 

— Perhaps not, but you hide things from me. Captain Price spoke of you in high regard - a well behaved woman from a respected family, yet you’ve proven yourself to be rather promiscuous. You even ensnared poor Johnny, didn’t you? 

That… was straight forward. 

— I did no such thing!

Suddenly he wrapped one of his strong hands over the nape of your neck, causing you to tense and lean away from his touch. The man began drawing circles over your skin with his thumb, almost like he tried to soothe your shattered nerves. You gasped at the sudden force he had put you in place.

— Watch yourself and think twice about answering again. 

— It was mutual.

— Mutual? — He repeated mockingly. — Johnny boy would fuck anything that moves in ten miles radius. And it just happened to be you. 

— How dare you speak like this? — You turned your head to look him in the face. When you did, you saw the insolent smirk painted over his pale face. — He is at least decent towards me, he’s kind and caring. We did nothing wrong. Why do you care?

Simon leaned down right next to your face. He continued to stare you down, his brows narrowed in deep disappointment. 

— You’ve built a wall between us, sweet girl. Yeah, you did. If there was something you ever needed, you should have come directly to me, your Lord. And I can assure you, Johnny did not give what you craved and desired. 

Inconveniently your face changed its colour to vivid blush, when he suggested such things. Your stomach felt like one, big knot twisting its way to get stuck in your oesophagus. Was that it? Was this how he perceived you? Was he jealous of the fling between you and Johnny or was he simply cruel?

Lord Riley let go of your pretty neck and caressed your cheek with the knuckles of his fingers. Just like one would touch a lover and another – a pet. 

— You’re frightened. Are you scared of me, is that it? Be obedient and you won’t have to be. Or do you really want to be punished so badly?

You quickly denied by shaking your head to the sides to which he only hummed. His weight shifted behind your back and a trail of footsteps could be heard as the Lord of the house left the dining room.

A moment passed before you caught yourself staring at the bowl of now cold porridge, slowly digesting the conversation you just held with him, your Master. 

The burden upon your poor, poor mind has overwhelmed you and the realisation of a potential madness weighed heavily upon you. Nothing made sense. Not a single logical explanation has come to light to soothe your fears. 

After those couple of weeks the staff and maids stayed in the shadows, Lord’s age did not match the tales of his youth and those horrible sounds you continued to hear at night? Ugh, they kept you awake, causing dark bags to show under your pretty eyes. 

The manor itself seemed to have poisoned you. Was that it? The reason? You knew you had to leave the house as soon as possible. You had to…

Oh God, what have you gotten yourself into? 

That night was no different to those before it. Wind blowing through the crack in the window’s frame, wheezing and whistling. Your bedsheets are exceptionally cold this time, causing you to shiver and tremble. The candle is still burning, a metal holder standing on the table. 

When you finally manage to curl up under the sheets and doze away slightly, you hear this agonising, scary wails. 

Wait. No. 

Those are no wails.

I-Is someone moaning?

You raised up to a sitting position in a half asleep state. Loose strands of hair stick to the forehead as you continue to listen for more sounds. 

Those seem to be almost human-like. Maybe they are? 

You throw the sheets to the side and crawl out of the bed. You’re frustrated and moody, close to tears from the exhaustion of not being able to sleep. Before you left your chamber, you grabbed that damn candle light and took a deep breath. 

Your bare feet left no traces behind as you walked down the dark hallway. The heart in your chest was about to burst, obviously you were still scared of the dark and what possibly lurks within it. The hem of your nightgown sweeped the wooden flooring that cracked underneath your weight. 

Then, you heard those moans again, louder. You were getting closer. Following the awful sounds you finally get to its source. You knew where your feet happened to take you to and that you shouldn’t have dared to enter this chamber. Nonetheless, you did. The shroud of mystery had to be torn. 

You slowly creeped towards the half-opened, heavy doors and sneaked inside where the darkness swallowed almost everything. Single candles had been lit across the room, creating an ascended ambience. You should have turned around and left, you understood that perfectly well. However, you wanted answers to all the secrets of the manor and its habitants. 

Behind the wooden screen there was a large bed and two figures sitting on its edge. Gardener who was completely bare and whining into Lord’s shoulder, drool leaving the corner of his mouth. Thighs spread open and eyes closed tight. And there he was – Lord Simon dressed in trousers and loose, white chemise. His big hand was tightly wrapped around Johnny’s angry cock, pulling and twisting the sensitive skin. They seemed to be enjoying themselves as Johnny whined pitifully again at the sensation. 

At least now you finally knew what those sounds were exactly – that stormy night Johnny came to you, were they also together? You couldn’t move and kept standing close to the screen, eyes transfixed at the scene you witnessed. So many emotions washed over you – were you embarrassed, scared or even jealous? The dots and the facts slowly began connecting. You had to make haste and leave this room. This house. You knew you had to get away tonight, before things would escalate. Oh God, you couldn’t properly breathe, your face and lungs felt like they were on fire!

— Looks like we have company — the coarse voice of a blonde man made your skin cover in goosebumps. He stared directly at you. — Want to join us? 

Unknowingly you made a muffled whine of embarrassment as you swiftly turned around and started to walk away in a hurry. As if you were in some kind of trance, your body going automatically. You rolled up the long hem of your nightgown not to stumble upon it as you found yourself on the corridor again. 

Christ! You forgot to take the candle with you! 

The breathing became difficult as you had to navigate somehow in the complete darkness. A part of your heart felt betrayed by the erotic scenery you just witnessed, although you couldn’t completely understand why. You and Johnny were a one time thing, why would you feel sorry for him bedding someone else? 

Probably because this “someone else” was your mutual employer.

There were heavy footsteps behind you, they were getting closer and closer. He was right behind the nosy intruder. You tried to fasten your pace, blindly going forward, hoping to find a staircase. Then it would lead you downstairs and outside of the building. But before you even made it halfway to the stairs, you bumped into a slim table standing by the wall. The vase standing on it fell and broke as the painful impact of the table's corner digging into your abdomen sent you to the ground. 

When it was clear you were within his grasp, you tried to crawl further away from him, trying to escape somehow. But Simon was faster and he collected you from the floor. 

— Come, before you’re gonna hurt yourself. — Lord Riley said as he managed to lift up and throw you over his broad shoulder with little effort.

You tried to break free by kicking like a goat and punching him with your curled fist. But how could the strength of a city girl ever compare to the former soldier’s? You groaned, you kicked and you cursed. Nothing could have prepared you for the harsh slap that Simon planted on your bottom. It stung, causing you to go still over his shoulder. And when he spanked you again you bit your lower lip, trying to confide any pathetic whines. 

— Should have whipped you long ago. Maybe it would teach you some respect. 

— I didn't mean to interrupt, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, my Lord!

— Oh, you happened to join us just in time. 

Lord Riley took you back to his bedroom and tossed you down onto his remarkably large bed. This time, he locked the doors from the inside and removed the key from the lock. You were stuck there with them. You managed to back up a little, before Johnny reached you. He sat at your side and carefully extended his hand towards your petrified face, a curtain of hair covering your pretty features.

— It’s alright, bonnie. Calm down. 

— I don’t want to be a part of this. — You stated, kneeling on the bed sheets splayed beneath. Simon stood tall with his hands crossed in front of you and the gardener. Johnny gently began to caress your back in a soothing manner. 

You were caught red handed, busted the only chance to run away and now you were more than positive he would never let you go. You tried to conceal the fears and shame, because now was the time to uncover the truth. 

— What is this? — You asked with a shaking voice, eyes transfixed on the two figures of men, going from the blonde to the brunette. — What’s going on? Please, let’s forget about this. I’ll go back to bed. I–I…

— You already are in one — Lord took a step forward and caught your jaw. He yanked your head up, forcing you to look at him. — Have you finally figured it out? I directly gave you clues. Come on, you’re a smart one. Put the pieces together. 

How could you come up with a logical conclusion? Everything you gathered through the weeks could be interpreted as a mad woman’s nonsense. But you weren’t ill, you were aware of the games going around you.

— You’re much older than you look, that’s what I know. And that you’ve done horrifying, unforgivable things during your service. Lord– Simon — you corrected yourself — what have you done? 

— Think. Harder. 

His patience was running thin. Simon spoke through his bared teeth. 

— Oh, God. Are you a part of this? — You looked at Johnny, before the blonde man caught your throat and lifted you on your feet again. 

— Don’t be harsh on her! She doesn’t know better. She needs to learn. — The Scotsman said to your defence, narrowing his thick brows and scrambling the bridge of his nose. All this time he was sitting comfortably on the bed, absolutely not bothered with his nakedness.  

— There is no God here, sweet girl, I already told you. Only me, Johnny and well, you. I’ve been kind enough to share a piece of me with you and that’s how you repay your Lord? In such childish, pathetic disobedience? Fucking nosy, aren’t we? Or just eager? 

The tall, bulky man reached with his other hand and forcefully cupped your crotch through the thin material of the nightgown, causing you to wriggle in his hold. He prodded against your slit with his finger, toying with you, testing the limits and your responses. And you were very responsive. 

In that moment you thought about the choice of literature Simon had given you. The main plotline revolved around immortality and its consequences, which would somehow explain… some things. Yet what about God? Why did Simon detest him so much?

— God turns his back on people like me and once you sin for us, he will turn on you too — he mockingly snorted, before continuing your torment. — If he didn’t already. 

You tried to tear from his hold, shaking yourself and pushing his chest away. Lord Riley stood like a mountain, not moving an inch. In a quick movement he twirled you around and took a firm hold of the nightgown material at your back. Then you heard how loudly the stitches broke and the teared material slowly fell to the ground, exposing your much alive and young flesh.

Before you realised you were completely bare and managed to cover yourself somehow, Simon grabbed your arms behind your back so you couldn’t move further. 

— I think he sent you to us as a gift — the man leaned against your shoulder, whispering into your ear. — Yeah, that’s what you are – a sweet, innocent present. Isn’t she cute, Johnny? 

Brunette finally stood up from the bed and gently caressed your hip. He was standing so close, you could feel his pulsating cock and its leaking tip on your supple thigh.

— Aye, she is lovely. 

— Have you tasted her, boy? That night you sneaked under her covers? — To which the dark haired one denied. — Well, I think you should compensate the little lady, no? Help her calm down, you know how women can get… hysterical. 

— W-Wait, wait, no, n-no… 

Simon sat down on the edge of the bed and placed you between his massive legs. One of his hands wrapped around your fragile, swan like neck and the other cupped your left breast. Meanwhile, Johnny got down onto his knees and moved closer to the two of you and before he dived between your thighs he looked into the dark irises of his Lord. Not yours. 

— He eats like I starve him beforehand. You’re gonna find out, lovely. 

You tried to squeeze your legs shut, but the gardener kept them spread wide so he could lean closer to your cunt. And when you tried anything like moving or wriggling away, Simon would pull or twist one of your nipples causing you to yelp. 

— She’s really pretty — the Scot said, parting your lower lips apart. The shame washed over you, causing your head to turn into Simon’s shoulder. — Never could have pulled such one while in the army. 

Then he flatten his tongue over your most sensitive parts and started dragging it along the slit. You entangled one of your hands within his brown strands of hair, on top of his head pulling slightly. When his lips sucked at your clit you finally moaned, releasing some tension and anger within you.

— Bird’s already singing.

Simon purred into your ear, nuzzling his eyebrow ridge into your head. The feelings and sensations you were experiencing overflowed your system. The man you trusted as your lover was assaulting your cunt with his mouth and the Lord you were supposed to work for was enjoying the show. You pressed your eyes shut, trying not to cry. But you finally broke and the salty streams began to run down your rosy cheeks. 

— You think she deserves to cum, Johnny? — To which the kneeling men nodded vigorously. — Use your words, stupid mutt. 

— Please, Si, let her. Look how stressed she is. Poor thing, she might need a few more.

— A few- Ah! M-More?! — You squealed again, when someone rolled your nipples between their fingers. 

When your peak neared, you tried to turn your head away and hide. You didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing your face in pure bliss. Simon held your head against his sternum, pressing your forehead backwards. 

You felt like you were on fire, orange flames licking your fingers, your breasts, your inner thighs. 

— That’s it, good girl. 

And when the knot finally bursted, a wave of painful, white pleasure washed over you. The orgasm was so strong, it blinded your senses for a short moment in which the men flipped you around the bed. 

Johnny was supporting your shoulders and your head, while Lord was stirring in front of you. He threw your legs over his thighs and scooped closer to your still wet with saliva crotch. And not only with that…

The new wave of panic overwhelmed you when Simon began to undo his trousers. He was taller and bigger than the gardener in every aspect, you were scared. Taking two lovers, without marital vows? Does this make you a whore? But you didn’t want this!

— No, no, no… — You weeped sadly, trying to crawl away, before Johnny began to caress your head. His grip was tight and successfully held you in place. 

— After tonight, we’ll be joined as one, bonnie. Just us, here in this house, forever. 

— But I-I don’t want this, Johnny! Please, let me go. Let me go.

You repeated as Simon pulled you by the hips closer to him. His now exposed, thick cock stiffened over your soft abdomen, leaking some precum. 

— Shh, Simon knows what’s best for us. He knows. 

When the tip of his length caved his way inside of your warm, silky walls, he was at least decent enough to take it slow. If you felt full during that first night spent with Johnny, this time it seemed even fuller. With his flesh, Simon filled you to the brim, still not even moving. The man saw your struggle to relax, so he leaned down and sucked the thin and delicate skin below your jaw. 

Meanwhile Johnny brushed your hair backwards and with the other hand he caressed your ribs. Somehow they knew how to press each individual button to make you docile enough. 

They learned how to tame you. 

Only then, Simon began to move his hips, thrusting slowly and continuously fastening the pace. His movements made you sway along Johnny’s knees. Your breasts bounced within the rhythm and your eyes searched for them through the half absent haze. 

You got lost in the moment, every breath merged with another. Hands roaming over your body, whose owners you couldn’t really assign, the burning stretch in your cunt that began to lube itself to ease the friction. 

The pleasure that crushed over your sensible thinking, put you in an almost ascended state. You were still sobbing, when Simon fastened his pace and his cock penetrated you deeper, kissing your cervix. You were still trembling, when the two men started making out above you. Their lips crushed in a vulgar exposition of their affection.

— Can’t you see that you’re lost without us, lovely? — The Lord’s voice shaken as he was getting closer to his climax. He leaned down and kissed you, almost stealing your breath away. 

— Wouldn’t last without us, would you, lass? 

They continuously somewhat mocked you and each time after they did, they cooed at you or leaned down to “kiss it better”. By the time Simon finished inside of you, groaning loudly, he spilled the warm seed inside your walls to, as Lord claim, “make you theirs”. 

— Don’t worry, we got you now. We’re gonna take care of you. Just let us… get familiar first. — Johnny said calmly, when the blonde was massaging your tense things. You knew they weren’t yet sated. 

That night you happened to lay over one of Simon’s bulky arms like a pillow. He caged your body from behind, his chest pressing tightly against your spine and Johnny laid on his side in front of you. Through a half awakened state you managed to look through the window that faced the treeline. An edge of forest shrouded in thick, morning mist. 

Tonight you finally were able to put the pieces together. However it was too late anyways.

The house seemed to be stuck in time and space, so were its residents. The wind sweeping through the draughty windows fills the lungs of the great manor. Old, wooden flooring creaks and the glass strain within its frames. Every aspect of the building stays the same, untouched and reclusive for many years to come. 

You finally let the heavy eyelids close. The sun was rising.

Obviously very inspired by Ghost's music and Crimson Peak, here is Spotify playlist ⟶ 𝕏

[violetflowerswrites]

I Hate Motorcycles

Pairing: Jason Todd x GN Reader

Summary: The Red Hood saves you from a bank robbery gone wrong, and reveals that your best friend, Jason Todd, is back from the dead.

Word Count: 1.7k

Disclaimer: bank robbery, weapons (guns, gas, knives, mace, taser), minor injuries with mention of blood, mentions of kidnapping and stalking, reader swears like a sailor, loss and grief, attempted murder, angst, consensual kiss.

A/N: I’ve been reading Batman comics and the BatFam has just wrecked my heart! I wrote this in like an hour because I kept thinking about the emotional whiplash that is losing Jason and his unexpected comeback. I’m not an expert on DC comics and I’m not sticking to any specific storyline. Just a lil Drabble for fun. Enjoy!

“Are you fuckin kidding me?” You muttered under your breath as broken glass, screams of terror, and angry shouts crackled across the bank.

The one day you decided to beg for a loan from the city’s stingiest bank, it gets robbed.

Fan-fuckin-tastic.

Multiple assailants in ski masks shouted the usual—“hands up or we’ll shoot!”, “put the money in the bag!”, so on and so forth.

You could practically taste the caked on dirt of the discolored carpet as you pressed your face down, splayed out on your stomach with your hands up in surrender.

Carefully, your eyes trailed across the foyer, wondering if you could just casually dip a hand into your pocket and pull out your switchblade, or mace, or taser.

This was Gotham after all.

Everyone has to be prepared for the worst.

But, no such luck. There were 8 armed men with machine guns.

Huh. That seemed like overkill.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have time to process that thought when a bright green gas started to waft through the glass building.

Then, the unmistakable sound of giggling.

What the fuck?

On instinct, you army crawled towards the nearest broken window, desperate for fresh air. In the chaos of over fifty hostages suddenly caught up in raucous laughter, you managed to hold your breath and pull yourself up to the windowsill.

Immediately cutting your hands to a bloody mess.

Biting in a swear of pain, you persevered, hauling your body across the shards until you fell in a heap on the sidewalk outside.

Your breath came in dizzying gulps, but nevertheless, your gaze blurred as the exposure to the gas was rendering you unconscious.

Just before your eyelids shut, you heard an incredibly loud revving of an engine.

And saw a blurry red streak of a motorcycle sailing through the broken window and into the bank behind you.

Your last coherent thought was:

I fucking hate motorcycles.

…

The story of why you hated motorcycles was a simple, although tragic one.

Your father was a mechanic, a brilliant one, but poor. You grew up helping in the garage as much as you could, trying to make ends meet.

Then, your father started to take on jobs for vehicles that weren’t…normal.

Decked out motorcycle-turned-gliders, cars that could transform into boats, that sort of thing.

Soon enough, you weren’t so poor, but your father still kept up the appearance of just being another struggling business in the great city of Gotham.

You knew better than to ask questions.

Until one day, a boy came. He asked for a motorcycle in special colors—red and yellow and a hint of green.

By then it was obvious to you that your father—and by extension, you— were fixing up vehicles for none other than Batman and Robin.

The vigilantes, the crime-fighting heroes of your city.

It was inevitable that the two of you, being practically the same age, would strike a close friendship. If he wasn’t busy fighting who-knows-what in the dark alleys of Gotham, Robin would come over and spend hours with you working on his bike.

And he was such an asshole. A demanding, violent, arrogant jerk of a kid who wanted his motorcycle to be as deadly, dangerous, and fast as possible.

You, being an incredible mechanic like your father before you, took it as a personal affront to your pride. You constantly fueled each other, challenging each other to do better, be better.

And together, you were a formidable pair.

Until the Joker came.

And he was gone.

Batman lost his Robin, and your family soon lost its main source of business.

That’s why you were at the bank, trying to get a loan to cover the mortgage of your garage.

For years, you cursed Batman and his vigilante crew, blaming them for getting your best friend killed.

But, just as much, you blamed yourself. If only you hadn’t given him such a formidable vehicle, or hadn’t goaded him into fighting as violently as he did.

Maybe he wouldn’t have died.

So now, every motorcycle was a heart-stabbing reminder of him, and your failure to protect someone you loved.

…

You awoke to the feeling of someone placing a helmet on your head and lifting you up.

Firm hands wrapped your arms around a thick midsection, as your legs straddled a motorcycle.

Shit.

Someone was kidnapping you.

Before you could react, the wheels squealed and you peeled off into the rain-slicked streets of Gotham. Fear coursed through your now ice-cold veins and you shut your eyes, holding on for dear life as the rider pushed the vehicle ever faster.

After what felt like an eternity, you both finally stopped and you cracked open an eyelid to see a shocking sight.

Your garage.

Whoever took you knew where you lived.

Fucking hell.

This was worse than you thought.

Gathering your wits, you whipped out a knife in one hand and a taser in the other.

“Who the fuck are you?!” You screamed at your kidnapper. “How do you know where I live?”

“Ah—shit—this looks bad. Look, I’m sorry, I’m not trying to scare you—“ the man wore a red metallic mask, his voice altered by some kind of technology. He sounded more like a robot than a man.

“Yeah? Well you’re doing a piss-poor job of it. You got 3 seconds to explain yourself!” You lowered your stance, clearly ready to attack whoever this leather-clad stalker was.

”You got hit with laughing gas at the bank. It’s the Joker, he’s back, and I just couldn’t stand by while you were in danger. I couldn’t stand watching you from afar anymore.” The man stumbled through an explanation, backing up until his legs bumped into the motorcycle.

In a quick glance, you looked at the vehicle and immediately recognized it as one of yours. It was tricked out with fatter tires, a different front windshield cover, and red and black paint, but the engine, the shape of the body, that was undeniably your engineering.

It was Robin’s bike.

You rushed up to him, closing the distance and pressing the blade of the knife to the gap of skin between his black Kevlar turtleneck and his mask. Your other hand pressed the taser into an exposed seam between the armored protection on his side.

“Where the fuck did you get this bike?” Your voice dropped dangerously low, your tone seething with murderous anger.

In that moment, Jason could see in your gaze just how deeply the pain of loss ran through you. You were a mechanical genius, a competitive, intelligent, shit-talking inventor. But you weren’t a fighter. And you definitely weren’t a killer.

But, Jason knew that if he didn’t tell you the truth, you would have murdered him in cold blood on the steps of your home, without a single ounce of regret.

“Take off my mask.” He whispered, his Adam’s apple bobbing against the blade of the knife.

Your eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Why?”

“You need to know who I am.” He replied cryptically.

Jason could see the gears turning in your head as you realized that this mask-wearing fucker could be working with the Batman.

And good ol’ Bats wouldn’t waste a perfectly good bike, even if it belonged to his Robin, whom he treated like a son.

A now dead son.

Jason held his breath for a beat more as you considered his words, but curiosity got the better of you and you complied.

You eased up on the knife to use your finger to pull the mask off his chin, and it fell to the floor with a sharp clatter.

A second later, your knife and taser fell to the floor as well.

“Fuck.”

The single syllable popped out of your jaw-dropped mouth as you stumbled back as if Jason had shoved you.

It was him.

That unmistakable sheepish look of taking things just a little bit too far on his handsome face. A face now aged and scarred a bit, and a shock of white hair attached to his forehead.

“It’s me. I’m back.” He shyly smiled at you, shrugging his shoulders as if he didn’t just come back from the fucking dead.

An uncontrollable wave of rage washed over you and you recovered, your hands quickly forming fists which rain all over his chest.

“Fuck you! Fuck you, Jason! You fucking died! You have no fucking right to be here right now! You fucker!” Raw screams of grief and disbelief wrenched out of your body, as sound unrecognizable to you since the first days that you lost him.

Thought you lost him, forever.

“I know, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Jason hugged you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go again. You didn’t realize that tears were streaming down your blotchy cheeks and were now soaking through the bullet proof vest on his chest.

“How? How are you here?” You spluttered through heaving lungs, trying your best not to break down into sobs.

“I’ll explain everything, I promise.” He ran a soothing, warm palm down your back. “But, there’s something I need to say, something I regretted not telling you before I died. And I’ve been thinking about it every day since I came back.”

His gaze down at you was soft, and you can see tears pricking the corners of his blue eyes.

“Say it, you fucking asshole.” You punch him one more time in the shoulder, but Jason could tell your heart wasn’t in that one.

With the gentlest smile you’ve ever seen from him, he opens his mouth and says:

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened in shock as those three words hit your ears, and your heart.

You didn’t realize you’d been waiting to hear that for years.

And you thought you never would.

Jason cupped your chin and lifted it to his, pressing his lips to yours and—fucking hell.

It felt like coming home.

…

[beeing1alive]

Hola! Can I request TR boys (whoever you want but pls add Rindou😭) with a reader who struggles with drug addiction? And even if she doesn't take very dangerous ones, she still drinks study pills/drugs everyday?

Note: heyy, thanks for the sweet message, I don't really write about such topics but I tried

!Warnings: drugs, light nsfw, weed!

Also takes drugs, even regularly and will take them with you, because what is hotter than being high together? Nothing. Then you lie in bed together, high and simply satisfied. Well, nevertheless, he will make sure that you both do not overdose, he could not bear to lose you. Will also pay attention to what you take and also how, so that nothing worse happens.

Sanzu; bonten!mikey; Hanma, ran; Kazutora

Only takes drugs occasionally, but then harmless ones, such as weed. Sometimes his daily work life is just so stressful that he needs a joint or two to calm down. Then he'll enjoy sitting on the balcony with you, sharing a joint together and just being completely relaxed and satisfied.

Rindou, Mitsuya, Hakkai, Draken, Baji, Nahoya, Kisaki

Has an absolute dislike for drugs. Doesn't take any, has never taken any and never will. Tries 110% to get you off, partly because it's just unhealthy and partly because it stinks, especially if you smoke weed. But can't deny that it is great sex when you are high, you are just more sensitive and so on, he doesn't want it, but he can't say that it doesn't make him horny.

Takemichi, souya, Chifuyu, Akkun, Naoto

I also wrote other scenarios for him and other characters, so here is my masterlist if you want to check it out, requests are open <3

Attention: The characters and the gif do not belong to me. All credits go to the actual owners. If you want anything to be changed or removed, please write to me.

[cheeseceli]

Skz reacting to your mouth piercing

pairing: skz ot!8 × gn!Reader (individually)

request: could you do a skz reaction to the reader getting angel fangs, like the piercing of it's alright.

warning: maybe a little bit cringey but what can i do

a/n: even though i said "mouth piercing", this can be read as angel fangs as well! i just changed the title so it'd be easier to understand. I wrote a few things about the angel fangs specifically as well. hope you like it nevertheless!

Chan

SUCH A SIMP

When you first told him that you wanted to get a piercing, he was mentally preparing himself to simp over you

But once you actually got it???

So in love with how you look

Besides that, he would help to take care of the piercing until it healed

Always reminding you of what to do and how to do it

"I can't get over of how great you look. Does it feel okay? You're not in pain right now, are you?"

Lee Know

Shiny eyes

Open mouth

Staring at your lips like a kid who's excited

Doesn't say anything for a while

But you know he loved it

The type to be more addicted to your kiss

Would even think of piercing himself after all of this

(ngl i think his favourite type of piercing would be angel fangs, so if that's the case, he is so head over heels for you)

"Can I kiss you again?

Changbin

Huge smirk

And infinite compliments

As long as my man can talk, he'd be complimenting you

The typa bf to take a picture of you like this and set it as his wallpaper

I feel like he'd want to be there while you get the piercing

But if not possible, he'd be waiting for you while being so excited

Would tell everyone how great you look with this new change

Your biggest fan

"Look how great you look smiling in this pic. It's the third time I change my wallpaper this week, because of you."

Hyunjin

*hyunjin's voice" "sexy, hard sexy"🫸

Fr tho, my man's holding back from kissing you so hard

Wondering how he survived all those years before seeing you like this

*flashback to the tongue piercing during trainee day's rumours*

Lowkey thinks about getting a tongue piercing so you guys could "match" as well

(And if we're talking about the angel fangs, he'd paint it for sure. It's cliche but it's true)

Han

Let's face it

He was the one who suggested it

He'd be like "good morning my love. Y'know what ? You'd look amazing with a mouth piercing"

And he's in shock

Positive typa shock

Deadass stared at your lips for a whole minute before saying anything

And when he does say something, every sentence he can form is a compliment towards you

"You look so good"

"I know Ji, you said that a few times already."

"No, you don't get it. You look SO good."

Felix

Such a simp for you!!

He wouldn't know what to do

You'd be talking and he'd be like

looking at your mouth

SO fixated

He's hypnotized

and 100% in love btw

"Felix, are you even listening?"

"Hm? Oh, sorry sorry. It's just, you look... beautiful. Really, really beautiful"

Seungmin

He's trying so hard to keep his posture lmao

but he's freaking out over how amazing you look

Every now and then you catch him lost in the little piece of metal, admiring you with heart eyes

Similar to Chan, he'd also take care of you to keep manutence of a piercing beforehand

I'm 100% but he's so bf material

(talking bout the angel fangs, I believe he'd be the biggest fan of it, he can't even hide it)

"You look even prettier somehow. I don't know how you do it"

I.N

He's dying to kiss you

He needs to kiss you and feel your lips right now in this moment

And he loves how the piercing makes you smile even brighter

He's giggling so much lmao

He swears he could spend a whole afternoon looking at your mouth

Probably will do it anyways

And if he didn't know about the piercing before, like a surprise, he will be so 😯

He's so devoted to you

"I'm telling you, seeing you like this was the best thing that happened to me the whole day"

feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

dividers by @cafekitsune

[secretmellowblog]

So, when Les Mis was first published, this conservative reviewer named Felix and Courtat went on a tirade against Victor Hugo’s disgustingly sensuous portrayal of Marius and Cosette’s romance. Here are some excellent quotes from his review (courtesy of a translation by @psalm22-6 ).

First, he points out that if Marius is supposed to be Victor Hugo’s self insert, this is all a big plot hole:

This reviewer begins by complaining about Hugo's fixation on virginity:

Cosette and him, who have not spoken to one another, fall into each other's arms, call each other “tu,” and they give each other a deeply loving embrace, "the ineffable first embrace of two VIRGINITIES in the ideal,” as the author so aptly puts it. After bravely embracing following the first meeting with Cosette, Marius spends part of the night with her for six weeks, alone together, in brother and sister innocence. I am absolutely ignorant of the youth of M. V. Hugo, however I would readily believe that, in Marius, he wanted to paint himself at the age of twenty. Nevertheless, I would struggle to allow that such an adventure happened to him. . . other than in a dream. His adoration of VIRGINITY, which is found in Valjean, in Javert, in Marius, in Enjolras (I am only speaking of the men), leads his pen astray. But I’m afraid to push that point.

“If Marius represents Victor Hugo, he and Cosette would NEVER be this chaste. Hugo is far too much of a slut.”

Courtat continues:

Now, I will ask M. Victor Hugo, adorer of VIRGINITY, does he think he has honored the beginning of his austere old age as a writer by glorifying sensual passion through the love of Marius and Cosette to the extent that he did? He wrote with a smugness that should make this book forbidden to young girls, and which is unworthy of a social reformer. I hate lyricism applied to the flesh (to employ the least dishonest word); with great difficulty I forgive it with young people; but my pride of almost sixty-year-old is in agony to see one of my contemporaries write of its ecstasies.

I know we’ve reached the romance chapters in the year’s @lesmisletters readalong so I want to make sure your morals aren’t corrupted 🙏

[leandra-winchester]

The Spy who Loved Me

Inspired by the unhinged spy!Tommy theory and all the amazing fandom responses, here's a little something I just wrote.

~*~

“Maybe they should hire you to play the next Bond,” Buck says and looks up from where he’s snuggled against Tommy’s side.

“Me?”

There’s that now quite familiar look of amused disbelief on Tommy’s face that Buck’s come to adore; if he’s perfectly honest, he’s said the one or other surprising and outrageous thing just to trigger it.

He bites his bottom lip, but feels the grin stretch on his lips nevertheless. “Uh-huh. I think you’d look amazing in a tux.”

Tommy huffs out a small chuckle and trains his eyes back onto the TV where Daniel Craig is wearing said tux. He looks great in it, too, but Buck is convinced Tommy would look at least ten times hotter in the same outfit.

“Too bad they don’t hire Americans for the role,” Tommy says with a soft sigh. “Although, I have been informed I can do a smashing Bri’ish accent.”

Buck snorts out a laugh. “That was terrible.”

“Hey!” Tommy retorts with fake indignation.

“It was— uh. Pretty bad. Not nearly as convincing as your fake mouth static.”

There’s a gleam of amusement in Tommy’s eyes for a second before his expression goes nearly blank. He turns his head a bit more closely towards Buck and says, “Why is it that people who can’t take advice always insist on giving it?”

For a split-second, Buck is taken aback, but just as he sees the hint of a smirk tug at one corner of Tommy’s mouth, he remembers just having heard that line in the movie a few minutes ago. He lets out another soft chuckle and rests his head back on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Okay, that was— uh— a little better.”

“Just a little? Let’s hear yours then.”

“Uh, no. I— uhm, couldn’t do a convincing ‘Bri’ish’ accent if my life depended on it.”

“Well then,” Tommy says, no longer trying to imitate an English pronunciation, “I suppose this Bond is gonna have an American ‘Bond Boy’ then.”

Buck feels another chuckle bubble up his throat, paired with a small tingling deeper in his belly — a playful excitement as he lifts his head once more. “Mr. Bond, you’re really good at faking an American accent, you know that?”

There’s just the hint of a huffed-out chuckle coming from Tommy before his face and tone turn serious again. “All part of my training. You should hear my Austrian accent,” he says in what sounds like a somewhat convincing impersonation of Arnold Schwarzenegger.

Buck can’t help but laugh at that but tries to play along. “Yeah, that— uh— that was pretty convincing. Hm. Maybe you are a spy.”

“Yeah?” Tommy asks, brows raised. “You have any valid reasons to suspect me?”

Buck pretends to think and shrugs. “Well. You showing up that closely to when Captain Jackass did? Maybe… uhm. Maybe he planted you long before to prepare his hostile takeover?”

Tommy responds with a shocked expression of mock outrage, but then sighs. “Okay. You blew my cover. I am a spy. In fact, I’ve been studying you for months.”

“Really?” Buck asks, that silly excitement once more bubbling up in his belly and chest. “So you— uh— being friends with Eddie first was part of that?”

“All just a ploy. It started earlier than that. In fact, we’ve got our own mad scientist on our side who caused the freak hurricane that capsized the cruise ship.”

“Wow. I knew it,” Buck replies, trying to swallow the giggle of amusement that wants to escape him.

“Yeah. There’s just one problem with the whole scenario,” Tommy says with another sigh.

“What’s this?” Buck asks and watches Tommy’s gaze turn softer, whatever playful pretense in it almost entirely gone now as he looks directly into Buck’s eyes.

“I’ve fallen in love with my target.”

A breath leaves Buck on its own accord, pushed out of his lungs with the swell of emotion that makes his heartbeat pick up. “Y— yeah?”

“Mhm,” Tommy nods solemnly, one hand reaching out to Buck’s neck, his thumb gently brushing along the line of his jaw as his face moves closer. “Guess I have no choice but to turn double agent now.”

Before Buck can respond, he feels Tommy’s lips on his. It’s a soft, gentle contact at first, but it takes his breath away nevertheless. Despite the little ‘roleplay’, the emotion, the affection he feels in the kiss is more real than he ever remembers it feeling with anyone before.

And then it deepens. Tommy’s stealing the breath from Buck’s lips as he licks into his mouth. There’s a huffed, trembling sound following it that Buck equally seeks to devour, and the tingling in his stomach shoots lower and runs all the way up his spine with a yearning hunger.

Holding onto Tommy’s lips for a moment longer, memorizing the taste and sensation as if he can’t get a dozen more just minutes after, Buck finally draws away. He’s shifted on the couch, half kneeling on the surface now next to Tommy, and one hand on his shoulder. A smirk forms on his lips as he lets his hand drift slowly, deliberately, down Tommy’s front to his belt buckle.

“Maybe I should blow more than just your cover?”

Tommy lets out a tiny chuckle, his brows going up a fraction with a subtle, suggestive glance.

“I knew being a spy would really pay off one day,” he says as his hand drifts to the back of Buck’s head, gently pushing him downwards.

On the TV, the Bond movie remains entirely forgotten.

[faulty-writes]

Alright, alright, I have this little crossover idea of sorts!

Trigun is an anime in the world of MHA, and reader is crushing on Vash the Stampede. Reader has the manga, the anime on Blu-ray, figures, a plush...

How would Izuku, Bakugou, and Mirio react to their crush having a thing for Vash, who is fictional? Would they possibly get jealous, wondering what it is about him they like so much? :3

[ I love this cross-over idea. Fuck yeah! You know, it's funny. I wrote a few headcanons between the BNHA boys and them having a plushie a long time ago. I think the reader being obsessed with a fictional character, Vash in this case, is awesome and quite relatable. I honestly have to say I'm in love with Vash from the 1998 animated series, he is just so cool and I'm also currently reading the manga which is just mind-blowing. ]

His words were stolen from him when he entered your room to see endless amounts of manga, plushies, and even figurines of Vash the Stampede. Although given his collection of All Might merchandise, he knew he couldn't judge. But he also couldn't stop himself from feeling the tiniest bit jealous.

"W-what is it about t-that guy that makes them a-admire him…so much?" He asked after successfully convincing you to allow him to borrow the Blu-ray Trigun Stampede series collection you had. He didn't understand why you liked the characteristics Vash displayed but nonetheless jotted them down in his notebook as he watched.

Unfortunately, the attempts to display the same characteristics he saw to capture your attention were unsuccessful, and honestly, he felt a little pathetic about trying to be someone he wasn't. Plus, the look on your face made him feel like a bigger idiot than he was.

"I d-don't know what I was thinking…" he whined, pressing his head against his desk. "Will they…l-like me like they do V-Vash?" It was pitiful to think he was jealous of a fictional character.

"Perhaps you are approaching the problem incorrectly," Tenya suggested. "While the feeling of affection can extend to…fictional aspects, I'm certain that Y/n is aware of reality and will look at you the way you desire as long as you remain yourself." He wasn't sure how much faith he put in Tenya's words but knew he was right. Comparing himself to Vash wasn't going to get him anywhere.

Accepting something was the hardest thing but given that he was once the quirkless boy who dreamed of being a hero, he would face this issue the same way. He could accept it but not for long. He'd prove he was better than Vash The Stampede and then maybe…just maybe you'd see him as your hero.

"Tch, reading a lame manga, huh!? How stupid!" He remembers those words from his middle school years, and how you would always huddle in the corner with a stupid smile as you read 'Trigun Maximum.' The thing that years later became your obsession.

"What the hell is all this shit!?" He demanded. "This is worse than that damn Deku's room!" You had shelves filled with manga, and Blu-rays, not to mention plushies of the same character scattered around. "You shouldn't be obsessed with fictional dumbasses that swing guns around! I'm the only badass here!" And he'd prove it.

His jaw clenched tighter and tighter whenever he was in class, hearing you go on and on about your love for Vash. How cool and handsome he is, how amazing he is in combat. Damn, he hated it. He would never admit he was jealous, but what made Vash better than him!?

"What do you mean I can't take these!?" he demanded after irrationally barging into your room and stealing your Trigun manga collection. Nevertheless, after a heated argument, he settled for reading it in your room. "What the hell is so damn great about this dumbass?" From what he could gather Vash was nothing but an outlaw with a gun.

He didn't think his jealousy would affect him just like he didn't think his feelings for you would sway him from his dream of becoming a hero. But he found himself being fueled by the hatred of your Vash The Stampede obsession. Because of this, he grew extremely cocky during training exercises. He even went as far as shouting that he was better than some stupid outlaw which you found...odd, to say the least.

It didn't take a genius to realize you were unimpressed by his attempts and criticism of your favorite character. Yet, as usual, he'd be damned if you continued to idolize someone else when he should be the one idolized by you. Whether you liked it or not, he'd be the object of your affection next.

"Heh, wow...you really like this guy." Of course, it was an obvious statement with all the Vash the Stampede plushies, and merchandise that littered your bed and shelves. He picked up one of the plushies, staring into its blue button eyes that reminded him of his own and a strange feeling made his stomach twist. Was he feeling insecure?

"Oh, is that Vash the Stampede?" Nejire asked, pointing to the plushie Mirio held. "Huh, wait you know about him!?" He exclaimed. "Yeah, I-" He grasped her shoulders before she could finish. "What do you like about him!?" He demanded, and although Nejire didn't have a solid answer she settled for Vash's bravery and caring for others.

While Mirio was happy that he shared some favorable characteristics with Vash the Stampede, he still struggled to think of how to get your attention while respecting your love for the fictional character. How could you view him as you did Vash? Of course, he could never tell you who you could and couldn't love, but gosh wouldn't it be amazing if you did love him?

"So, what do you think!?" Mirio demanded with a bright smile. He was dressed in a red trench coat and orange glasses, the key pieces of clothing Vash wore. "You like Vash, right? I sure look like him now, wouldn't you agree sunshine?" To see your eyes light up when you looked at him, even in the silly little cosplay he was wearing, meant the world to him.

He convinced you to hang out with him and took you to a special area resembling the setting where the Trigun show took place. It was part of a beach, with endless sand everywhere. He wanted to impress you while respecting your feelings, and maybe make you have feelings for him. Overall, your reaction was so-so.

Despite his jealousy, and his somewhat successful attempts at trying to sway your attention away from Vash the Stampede and onto him, he wanted you to be happy. "Heh, who knows, maybe I will be their Vash someday!" Until then, he'd just keep smiling.

[norris-lando]

it's time to go / social media au

max verstappen x singer!reader

summary: in which rumors spread about max cheating on you but thankfully, there's a knight in a shining red armor waiting for you

faceclaim: sabrina carpenter

author's note: this is my first time doing a social media au, so please go easy on me 😭 nevertheless, i hope you guys enjoy! also, i'm going to doing more parts to this :)

part 1 · part 2

—

f1updates: Max Verstappen and singer-songwriter Y/N Y/L/N have called it quits after almost 2 years of dating. Sources close to the couple have commented the breakup saying, 'apparently there was some sort of infidelity involved.' The couple have yet to confirm these rumours, but what do you guys think? Check the link in our bio for more information regarding the situation.

liked by user12, user13, user14 and 586 others

user1: noooo mom and dad 😭

user2: i'm denial, ain't no way one of them cheated wtf

user3: say sike right now ☺️

user4: it's okay guys mom and dad are just being silly 🥰🥰🥰 it's fine 🥰🥰

user5: i mean if the cheating thing is true, i'm sure we all know who cheated on who

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y/n.insta: how long will it be cute, all this crying in my room 🎼

liked by charles_leclerc, user6, user7 and 321 278 others

user1: mother noooo 😭

user2: it's okay max ☺️ i just wanna talk ☺️🔪

user3: i didn't wanna believe it but looks like the streets were right this time 😪

user4: i'm so lost, what happened??

user3: apparently m*x cheated on y/n

user4: wtf nooo they were my endgame 😭

user5: charles what are you doing here

user3: lmaoo chill they're friends

user6: it's okay bby i can go vroom vroom in circles too and i promise i won't cheat

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y/n.insta: they say write about what you know so i wrote about heartbreak. it's time to go out now on all streaming platforms!

btw, had a BLAST in LA this last weekend. thank you so much for all the support, i love you guys 💖 next stop ➡️ miami

liked by charles_leclerc, user16, user17 and 987 532 others

user1: can't wait to see you in miami!! ♥️

user3: 15 years 😭 15 million tears 😭 begging till my knees bled 😭 i gave it my all 😭 he gave me nothing 😭 at 😭 all 😭 tHEN WONDERED WHY I LEFT 😭

user2: @/maxverstappen1 been awfully quiet since the queen dropped it's time to go 🤔

user1: not the tag lmaoooo 🤣

user6: okay can we pls talk about the fact that cHARLES is back in y/n's likes???

user5: i admire to be this delulu

user8: still feels so weird not the see max in the likes and comments

user11: i know right?? we get it, it was a good joke hahaha i'm laughing now pls can we stop this

user9: i think you dropped this 👑

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maxverstappen1: Simply... Lovely. What a great weekend again 🏆 Miami, thank you!

liked by redbullracing, user18 and 886 379 others

user19: it's time to go to apologize to y/n now ☺️🔪

user5: so proud of you, great job again!!

user17: imagine being in miami at the same time as the girl you CHEATED ON

user2: facts, i feel so bad for y/n cause i remember seeing a video of her saying she scheduled a show in miami at the same as the gp so her and max could spend some time together

user3: lmao at least Charles had a fun night at y/n's concert last night

user17: what?? how do you know that???

user3: he posted on instagram last night that he was there!!

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charles_leclerc: Good day yesterday, on and off track. Thank you, Miami! And special thank you to @/yn.insta for having me at the show ♥️ It was phenomenal and can't wait to see you again soon.

liked by @/yn.insta, carlossainz55, user13 and 687 931 others

yn.insta: Thank you so much for coming! I'm glad you had a good time ♥️ Can't wait to see you soon!

user6: the red hearts!!! and y'all called me delulu

user8: okay but the hearts don't necessarily mean anything?? i mean y/n just got out of a relationship

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