#upper level hosting

[nethervoice]

HOW TO MAKE IT AS A NEW VOICE ACTOR WITH NO CREDITS AND LITTLE EXPERIENCE

As someone who has been a professional voice over for many, many years, I’m often asked if I have one piece of advice for people who are just starting out. People want to know: What do you do when you have very little experience, few contacts, no money for demos, and there’s not a single agent who wants to represent you? Where do you start, and how do you know you’re not dumping money into a pipe…

[the-simple-creature]

SO ARE WE JUST NOT GOING TO TALK ABOUT THIS

VALID FUCKING QUESTION AND VALID FUCKING REACTION

THERE'S ANOTHER FUCKING HOST

Also, a few notes on who it can't be

Can't be Uzi, obvious reasons

Can't be Doll, she has almost full control over it and I think it would've been a much bigger deal

Most likely isn't Tessa/Cyn, Tessa/Cyn unzipped her suit once and ALLLLL the gory goop fell out, that looks hard to set up

Probably isn't eldritch V, she's in the upper levels and also has Uzi as an admin but it wouldn't surprise me if it was

Might be the corrupted cores in Alice's oven but, again, they're in the upper levels

I think we should all MUCH MORE CONCERNED about what was just trying to eat them.

Edit: While Flesha is one of the more likely options, I've found a few more pieces of evidence that would say otherwise.

This entity never says it's actions aloud, even when using the CYN voice. Flesha does. In fact, every host does.

While Flesha DID go into her "eldritch" form, she only did so after going into The Hole™.

The fact that there's a whole flesh cave system to me implies that this thing has been here for a while. Flesha literally just got here.

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to Education

I'm always asked what sort of education different people recieve throughout different historical eras and since I'm heading back to college soon, I thought it was high time I made this guide.

Disparity

Education is viewed as a right by many but for some and thoughout history it was a privilege. For the wealthy and those of high status, education can be easily accessed. They can afford to tailor an education to fit their needs, they can hire tutors, and they can afford tuitions to top schools. For the poor, education was a luxury. However this doesn't mean that it was available. Some communities would fund a school or send their children to a local teacher - usually they had to pay a daily fee or at least bring kindling for the heating. Many poorer children also worked so they could not attend school consistently or were pulled out very early into their education. However, some poorer students could gain access to high level education if they were extremely bright or caught the attention of a wealthy benefactor who could fund their education.

Education as a Weapon

Education could also be banned for certain groups in society. It could be illegal to fund schools or host gatherings for students of a certain background, race, religion or gender. Education against the law could be punished by imprisonment, exile or execution. This is a measure usually taken by oppressive governments in order to follow a moral code or restrict the betterment of a certain group. An example would be the Irish Catholics under the Penal Laws.

On the otherhand, there is education that is influenced by the state to inject certain values, moralities and Opinions into a population. This is the intense restriction of reading material, removal of books that contest the teachings of the government or the kidnap of children from their culture, in order to forcibly educated them in alignment to their beliefs. An example would be the residental schools of North America and Canada and the AHS schools of Nazi Germany.

Content

As above, content of what children learn usually falls into a certain category. This is also true for the education offered to the wealthy and the poor. The poor would be offered a basic education, learning literacy and arithmetic, usually with an expectation that the children would not go on to any jobs that needs a broader education. Any higher education would be hard to obtain because of cost and the discriminatory view of the enrollment panels. The wealthy would have access to an array of different subjects including: The arts (drawing, music, painting, poetry, dancing), sports (riding, martial skills, rowing, hunting), arithmetic, geography, languages, geography and history. While progression to higher education will still be difficult, any affluent families are legacies of prestigious colleges or can make a donation to grease a few palms. These schools would be where the wealthy make lifelong connections and get springboarded toward opportunities.

Private Tutoring

Whilst some affluent, aristocratic and Royal families send their children to schools, private tutoring in the home was a popular choice. Children would be educated at home but tutors who either lived in the home or come to the house. The children would be educated alongside siblings or the children of courtiers or neighbours. Private tutoring sessions would often be the only education for upper class women recieved, taught by governesses and tutors.

Premises and Equipment

As mentioned above, wealthy and aristocratic families would usually attend established schools or attend school at home. They would be provided any equipment they needed. If they attend school, they would often wear a uniform. Some schools had multiple variations of the uniform for different activities. Many of the schools attended would be boarding schools. Boarding schools offered education to those who boarded and day students, however day students were often looked down upon as lesser than.

Poorer schools would be relient on donations and fees paid by students. As mentioned above, there may be a building reserved for classes - sometimes an designated schoolhouse or a teacher's home or a public building such as a gathering house or sometimes even outside - hedge schools. Equipment would be provided by the school. Uniforms at poorer schools were not a thing but students were expected to show up neat and tidy.

Corporal Punishment

Corporal punishment at schools was the go to punishment for students. Teachers had free rein to strike children for mistakes and bad behaviour. Punishments include insolation, physical stress positions such as standing on a chair all day, getting objects thrown at them, being slapped on the back of the legs with a cane, being rapped on the palms or knuckles with a crop or ruler. Students may also be humiliated by teachers through the use of dunce hats, encouraging other children to bully them or by the use of verbal abuse. Corporal punishment did extend to all classes except for royal children since that was either taken by proxy by whipping boys or left up to parents.

[sea-lanterns]

LAST FRIDAY NIGHT

synopsis: party hookups with the inazuma girls

featuring: miko, sara, ei, shinobu, ayaka, yoimiya, kokomi

rating: 18+ n.s.f.w (men and minors dni)

warning(s): sub! afab fem reader (miko, sara, ei, shinobu), dom! afab fem reader (ayaka, yoimiya, kokomi), alcohol, slightly drunk s.ex, semi-public s.ex, swearing, vibrators, cunnilingus, fingering, marking, hickies, thigh riding, skinny dipping, may be ooc.

art credits: bai lijin among mortals

MIKO

“They’re drunk, they won’t notice we’re gone…”

Miko’s tongue dragged over your lips as she kept lustfully kissing you in the watery heat of the party’s hot tub, hands gripping at your sides to keep you situated firmly on her lap, almost as if she wanted to keep you from squirming away. Right now, Miko was supposed to be out mingling with guests as she was the host leading this party. However, things have changed, as Miko couldn’t help but let her eyes wander over the sculpture of your figure. Tongue itching for a taste, as she practically dragged you over to the hot tub for what she so desperately desired. 

You. 

“Miko, they’re looking for you…” you gasped breathlessly, hands roaming down the arch of your back and squeezing your ass when she finally came down to it. 

“And…?” Miko purred out lustfully, teeth nipping at your lips to get a better taste of your body. “Why would I pay attention to a bunch of drunkards when I have you right here…”

She was right, you know. A hot girl in your lap in a hot tub, who wouldn’t want to just stay there forever? Miko understood, as her strong grip kept you sitting against her with her tongue diving in to taste yours. The cute whimpers that left your throat enough for the hostess to groan with pleasure, wanting, craving for more more more…

“You’re so sweet…” Miko whispers, fingers trailing down to the strings of your swimsuit. “May I? I’ll be quick…”

You laughed softly at her curious beg for consent, the party girl staring up at you with big, lustful puppy-like eyes. “You’re very cute, for someone so flirty…” you whispered, allowing her to slide a finger up into your bottoms and slot themselves in between your lower lips. 

“Likewise, pretty girl…” she murmurs against your upper ones, swallowing up the small moans you let out while she slowly starts to push her fingers in…

SARA

“Don’t worry, Miko won’t know we’re in here…”

Sara pushed you up against the wall and started grunting into your neck the further she pressed into you, teeth grazing your skin as firm arms caged you in with no means of escape. What started off as a few drinks with the jock of your women’s basketball team led to a few slips of a tongue as you found yourself making out with the infamous Kujou Sara at Yae Miko’s annual party. Something neither you or Sara herself would ever imagine doing.

She held you up in her arms and kept your legs wrapped around her waist. Large, calloused hands cupping your ass as she ground your clothed cunt against hers. “Wait…not too loud— mmh…” Sara didn’t listen, sucking dark hickies on your neck as she continued grinding you hard against the wall.

“It’s okay, Miko’s my friend. She wouldn’t mind…” Sara sighs and squeezes your ass, “If anything, she’s probably fucking a girl too…”

You feel her fingers dip into the waistband of your shorts, toying with the upper skin of your folds before slowly trailing down. “Just…don’t tell Miko we’re doing this in her room, okay?”

While you’re sure the party hostess wouldn’t mind given how close she and Sara were, you still held a tinge of worry in your eyes as Sara hoisted you up with your strength until she was eye level with your unzipped shorts. Fabric already darkened from your arousal as she used her teeth to pull the zipper.

“So wet already…” she groans, leaning in to press her tongue against your panties and taste you through the cotton. “So good…”

Sara was strong in every way, but her tongue, oh her tongue. It was brutal as it pushed its way through the cotton layer and managed to make you feel just how thick it was. The warm muscle sliding up to the waistband of your panties as her teeth threatened to pull the fabric down, leaving you bare and naked to the all-seeing eye of the jock of the basketball team…

“I bet you’re just dripping for me under there…” Sara whispers hotly as her teeth latch on and yank your underwear for her to see. Eyes glazing over with lust as your twitching, pretty pussy lay on display for her mouth to devour…

EI

“Hush, I can’t concentrate…”

Hidden away in the basement of Miko’s mansion, Ei was playing on the Switch Miko had, with you seated on her lap and trying not to tremble at the vibrator she taped to your clit. It was fortunate that you were the only two in the basement, as the party was happening upstairs. But literally anyone could walk down and see you like this; trembling, whimpering, and creaming all over Ei’s lap while she absentmindedly clicked through another level of her video game.

“Ei…is this the last level?” You asked shakily, the vibrating sensations edging you for release. It wasn’t enough, you needed more. Where did Ei even get this thing anyway? You assumed she must’ve borrowed it from Miko…

“Just one more darling, I promise…” Ei kisses your ear and reaches over to grab the remote of the vibrator, switching it up to a higher setting. 

“Oh!” Damn! That felt good…

“Is that better?” Ei hums, toying around with the controller as she quickly glances at your face. Oh, the sight was beautiful. Your pretty eyes all teary and close to crying, cheeks blemished in a way that had her gripping you closely. You were the definition of a good time at this party…

“Alright, fine. You win…” Ei sighs softly, pausing her game and scooping you up in her lap, setting you down on the couch before pulling out the vibrator. 

As the toy’s wire slid out from between your folds, you gasped and whimpered at the loss of stimuli. “Ei…” you groaned, trying to glare at her angrily for depleting you of pleasure entirely. “You better make up for this…”

“I will, I will…” the usually quiet girl reaches down and pulls your shorts completely off, throwing it somewhere on the floor of the basement. “Just don’t be so whiny, there’s people upstairs…”

Plunging her fingers into your slick, she slid them in with ease and kissed the skin of your stomach, pushing your shirt up to expose more of your torso while feeling you clench and squeeze all over her.

SHINOBU

“You’re very good at riding me, you know…”

Shinobu smiles as you ground your hips down against her thigh, slick folds sliding up and down the toned muscle while she flexes every so often to keep you lurching for more. An angry knock at the bathroom door signifies that you’ve been in there for too long, but do you and Shinobu care? Hell no.

“There’s other bathrooms…” Shinobu grins, hands gripping your waist as she maneuvers you back and forth in her thigh, “It’s Miko’s house after all…”

You groaned and clung onto Shinobu’s shoulders for support, rocking your hips against the girl’s toned legs while she sucked your nipples with her tongue. Tweaking it with the tip and leaving dark bruising marks on your skin from her teeth. 

“Hey! You’ve been in here for ten minutes!” A voice called out from outside the door. The punkette groaning and gripping your hips tighter, still rocking you brutally as she leans back against the toilet lid.

“Use the other ones! I’m busy!” Shinobu swallowed up the moan you let out when she flexed her muscle against your clit. Tongue delving deep into your mouth as she prodded and pressed her tongue against yours. One hand reaching up to grope your left breast and massage it as you rode.

Although you were worried about taking up one of the bathrooms with Shinobu, you had to admit that it was one of the best things you ever did as your eyes rolled back in pleasure from the way she drove you back. “Fuck— ‘nobu…” you could feel yourself creaming over her thighs as sticky squelches and smacks could be heard throughout the room. Shinobu’s purple eyes glazing with lust as she leaned in to kiss you.

“You’re so fucking hot…” She murmurs, pink tongue licking over her teeth as she contemplates what else to do with you. “Can you bend over against the sink? I have some more ideas.”

AYAKA

“More please…Ah…”

Innocent girl Ayaka who had one too many drinks and ended up head over heels for you. Spotting you from across the pool and core absolutely throbbing the moment she saw you…

She wanted you, she needed you. You were so hot and she wondered how many ways you’d make her cum with Miko’s party music blasting in the distance. Ohhh she needed you so bad, evident with how her thighs squished together as heat pulsed through her core. You noticed, of course you did. And instead of trying to sober her up like the kind hearted girl you were, you ended up stumbling into one of Miko’s guest rooms with Ayaka below you, peppering sweet kisses against her neck with her legs wrapped around your waist. 

“Mmh…!” Ayaka was so adorably whiny, bare legs in the air as her shiny cunt took your fingers so well. She was so wet, she must’ve been soaked while talking to you by the poolside, precum globbing inside her underwear as just hearing your voice made the woman want to cry. 

“You’re so wet…” You groaned, smelling the alcohol from innocent Ayaka’s body, “Were you like this when you were staring at me…?” 

You wanted to laugh at how pathetically guilty she looked as she nodded. Too tipsy to realize how honest she was being as she swallowed more of your fingers in. “You’re so cute…”

God! Why did you have to praise her!? 

You felt Ayaka’s walls spasm the moment you called her cute and she squirted all over the palm of your hand. Your eyes widened at the sight, Ayaka even more so as she blushed and covered her mouth in shame. Fuck, that was so hot…

“I’m sor—” Ayaka gasped when you sped up the pace, not quite done with her yet as she gripped onto your shoulders to ride her orgasm. “Oh…oh…mm!”

“That was so hot…” you whispered out breathlessly, squeezing the woman tighter against you as her walls clenched and tightened around you. “Guess you’re not as innocent as it seems…”

YOIMIYA

“Yikes! That’s cold…”

As the liquor trickled down Yoimiya’s neck and down her breasts, you found yourself licking your lips at the sight and moving in to taste the trail. Yoimiya squeaks at the warm sensation from your tongue and quietly groans in pleasure, looking down at you with a heavy blush on her cheeks.

“H-Hey…that’s not fair…” she giggles, taking another shot of liquor and tipping it towards you to drink. “You have to drink too, I can’t be the only one getting tipsy…”

You chuckled and let her feed you through the glass, liquid burning down your throat as it slid down your gullet with ease. Yoimiya was a tricky one however, as she purposely spilled a little bit past your lips and smirked when she saw you squirm. 

Oh, she shouldn’t have done that…

Tongue immediately on her lips, you French kissed her into submission and pulled her body flush against yours, cocktail dresses all drenched in the mess as you dove your tongue in to meet hers. Yoimiya was flustered, heavily so as the mix of alcohol and you on her tongue had her thighs pressing together to keep the wetness from spreading. She was so turned on…

“Hah…why don’t we…go somewhere more secluded…?” Yoimiya giggles nervously, staring up at you with the cutest awkward look you’ve ever seen on a girl. She presses a small kiss to the edge of your mouth and shyly tugs your wrist forward. “We can continue in one of Miko’s guest rooms. Come on…”

Her words were simple. Just head to one of the guest rooms and continue there, right? Wrong. If only you two were able to keep your hands to yourselves, hands grabbing at Yoimiya’s breasts as she finally caves and lets you pin her to the wall of some distant hallway. Deciding to just ‘fuck it’ and pray no one wanders down this way.

“Ah…dammit.” Yoimiya whines as your tongue trails over a nipple, sucking on it with ease. She grips onto the scalp of your hair and tugs you down to go lower. “Too much…’s too much..”

Too much she says? You chuckle and kneel down to be eye level with her dress, flipping it up to give her the best cunnilingus she’d ever receive…

KOKOMI

“It’s not that cold I promise…”

Kokomi smiles up at you as she stands there naked in the water behind Miko’s beach house. Out of everyone attending the party, you didn’t expect Kokomi of all people to suggest skinny dipping in the dark. Her clothes all scattered on the sandy beach shore while she beckons for you to come closer. 

“I swear it’s not that cold…”

Yeah, right. You roll your eyes playfully and begin stripping off your underwear to get in, Kokomi’s eyes locked on your figure as she runs over the sculpt of your ass in awe. Damn, you’re hot…

Perhaps Kokomi wasn’t as innocent as she seemed to be, as the moment you dove into the water she quickly swam up to you and pressed her naked body against yours, pushing you alongside the stone wall as you felt her pussy bump into yours. “Kokomi…!” You laughed in genuine surprise, her breasts rubbing up against yours as she leans in for a kiss under the moonlight. 

“I think you’re drunk.” You say with a smirk, blocking her lips from reaching yours. 

“I think you’re wrong.” Kokomi rebuttals, a playful smile joining her face as she leans forward to whisper in your ear. “I haven’t had a drink all night. I just wanted to do this with you…”

Okay, this wasn’t the quiet girl Kokomi you knew, but wow was it hot. Perhaps you’ve awakened something in her during her stay at this particular party. After all, it seems that everyone has found a hookup one way or another tonight. It might just be something in the air…

‘Ah fuck it.’ You only live once and decided to lean in and scoop Kokomi up in your arms. Squeals emitting from her perfect lips as you kissed and molded her body against yours. The way she hooked her legs around your waist was everything, and as you pinned her back to the wall and began grinding at her cunt, all you could think was…

‘Thank god it’s Friday…’

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Calling all monster lovers!!

When I first started this account back in April, I wasn't expecting that in 4 short months, I'd be at 1500 followers?! I was just a girl who loved smut. Now I have all these people who like my stuff??!!!

To celebrate, I decided to host a little writing collaboration just in time for spooky season.

Introducing: MONSTER MASH!

Fic List Here

Info/Rules:

The theme of the collab is monsters. Any kind of monster. Werewolves, vampires, aliens, ghosts, Loch Ness, Frankenstein, fairies, tentacle, sirens, devils, incubus, succubus, WHATEVER. No bounds here as long as there's a monster involved.

There needs to be at least one character from the fandom list below (but this is me guys, threesomes and gangbangs are welcome!). I'm opening this up to a few fandoms that I don't necessarily write for. Fandoms for this event include: -JJK - Love and Deepspace -Bleach -Solo Leveling -MHA

Can you have the pairing with a monster? Can the character of choice be a monster? GOD YES! It's called 'Monster Mash' for a reason!

Does not necessarily need to be horror, accepting any genre.

Word count: minimum of 700 words, no upper cap.

It should be an original fic created for this event.

How to enter / Deadline:

DM/Inbox me so that I can add you to the fic masterlist stating which fandom and monster you're writing for.

For example, a message to me could look like, "Hey Ray! I want to participate in the monster collab. I'll be doing Gojo from JJK and my monster is a vampire!"

Please be sure to tag your fic as '#ncs monster mash' and also @ me so that I can keep track of all your lovely fics!

The deadline for sending me your fic is October 31st!

Have fun my Spooky Sluts!

And thank you so much @actuallysaiyan for making the spooky banner for this event! You really got my idea designed so well 💜

- NCS

all dividers by @/ cafekitsune

@aether-seawolf @actuallysaiyan @makingtimemine @snwvie @chronicreadz @facelessfionna @theimmortalbuns @otomegamesforlife @sweets-kozume @kentocalls

[theonceandfuturequeenoftarts]

It happens by chance, and while Harry wishes it hadn’t, this will at least clear up any lingering uncertainty for him.

There’s a skirmish between Harry and some friends from the Order and Voldemort and his Death Eaters, and a couple stray curses happen to catch him – one slices shallowly into his upper arm, the other sends him rolling across the ground. The upshot of this is that the left shoulder of Harry’s shirt is now in ribbons and hanging down around his waist, leaving his chest – and soul mark – bare to the world. Including Voldemort.

Who looks like he’s having one doozy of an emotion.

And that basically confirms the dark wizard hadn’t known, but right now Harry’s bleeding sluggishly and wants to go home and have a drink and pass out for at least a few hours, so Voldemort can rage on his own time. Everyone else from his side has already buggered off, so he’s not abandoning anyone if he does the same.

Unfortunately, the blood loss – while not severe – is enough to slow his reaction time, which leads to him apparating himself and the Dark Lord latched onto him to his flat. Not ideal.

There are a tense few moments of staring at the snake man, waiting to see if he’ll attack or start destroying Harry’s home, but when he doesn’t take advantage – when he just stares and frowns and stares some more – Harry decides he’s too tired for this shit.

“You are just impossible to ward out, aren’t you?” he sighs. The curse of being so physically and magically intertwined with the other man. (Well. And at the soul level, too, but he tries not to think of that.)

Voldemort yanks him by his uninjured arm towards the kitchen light that comes on automatically and stares at Harry’s chest, and the elegantly written Tom Marvolo Riddle thereupon.

Harry scowls when the staring drags on. “Oi, could you quit perving on me and piss off already?”

“You were never going to tell me?” Voldemort demands, ignoring Harry’s half-arsed attempt at distraction.

“Of course not,” he scoffs. “Why the Hel would I? Either you already knew and it didn’t matter to you, or you didn’t – and I wasn’t about to risk baring my soul to someone who has a history of wanting me dead.” He shrugs. “I’m reckless, not suicidal.”

Voldemort opens his mouth with an angrily indignant look, and Harry looks to the ceiling for patience before pulling out of the other man’s grip and opening his emergency bottle of firewhiskey, hidden in the pantry, because this conversation needs alcohol. He pours two glasses (his to the brim) because he tries to be a good host, even to the bane of his existence. And if Voldemort doesn’t want it, well, it’ll save Harry getting the bottle out again.

All throughout this, Voldemort is ranting at him. Harry tunes most of it out – he’s had to hear enough of the man’s monologues to know he doesn’t need to listen to the preamble; the meat of his diatribe won’t come until a couple minutes in, at least.

After he casts a quick episkey on the cut on his arm, Harry leans against the counter, watching Voldemort pace around his modest kitchen. He takes a long, slow drink, welcoming the fire flowing down his throat and warming his belly. And either the other man is taking even longer than usual to get to the point or Harry’s more exhausted and irritable than he’d thought, because he’s suddenly completely out of patience with this situation.

He cuts in boredly, “It’s not like it changes anything. It doesn’t matter.”

Voldemort is immediately before him, looming and enraged. “It matters to me!”

“Why?”

“I’ve waited decades for you,” he says vehemently, leaning closer in an attempt to physically intimidate or pin Harry in place.

Harry barks a harsh laugh. “You waited for a fantasy. You’ve spent my whole life killing and hurting the people most important to me. Some silly mark doesn’t change that – it doesn’t make it better, it won’t make me love you.” He takes a sip and rasps through the burn. “It won’t change who you are.”

“I never received a mark–”

“And that’s unfortunate. Clearly it affected you. But plenty of people don’t get soul marks and they don’t commit mass murder and incite civil wars.” He gives Voldemort a dismissive look, standing up straight and slipping out from between the dark wizard and the counter. He can almost hear the other man grinding his teeth. 

“You have no idea what it’s like, not having a mark,” Voldemort hisses caustically, face contorted in a furious snarl. “The contempt, the ridicule I had to endure. I was denied one of Magic's basic gifts and they took it as proof they were better than me, those worthless fools.”

It’s difficult to know how he would’ve reacted to not having a mark. His burden has been to have the mark of the worst possible person, and he thinks he’s handled it far better than anyone could’ve expected of him. Having no mark would’ve confirmed that he’s meant to be alone, that there’s no one out there meant just for him, but having Voldemort’s mark as Harry Potter essentially means the same thing.

“Maybe you mutilated your soul too much to deserve a mark,” Harry says in a fit of cruelty. Behind the wrath crackling in the other man’s eyes, he can see the misery bloom. As good as it feels to score a hit against Voldemort, he regrets it even more. And isn’t that the exact reason why this damn war has dragged on for so long?

(Harry pushes that thought away wearily.)

“You had choices, Voldemort, and you made yours,” he says quietly but firmly. “I’m making mine, and it’s that I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“This is not a unilateral decision,” Voldemort says, the frustration in his tone edging close to desperation. “Do my wants mean nothing?”

"Your wants." Harry slams his almost empty glass down on the table; his voice comes out dangerously even. “Alright then. Can you bring my parents back to life? No? How about Cedric, or Sirius, or any of the dozens of others whose lives you’ve cut short?”

Voldemort’s mouth is pinched shut, a thunderous frown on his face.

“Hel, let’s start small. Stop this war, swear to never harm another person and get your followers to do the same. You want me to care about what you want? Start by addressing all of that.”

“You ask this of me and promise nothing in return?” Voldemort says bitterly.

“That’s the bare minimum it would take for me to see you as anything more than a murderous, blood-supremacist monster. And I honestly don’t think you can do it, but feel free to prove me wrong.”

That puts an unsettling gleam in the other man’s eyes. Harry thinks back on what he might’ve said to cause that reaction and feels his stomach drop. Oh bother. He’d challenged Voldemort. Harry knows exactly how he'd react to someone saying that; apparently Voldemort is equally competitive (and motivated by spite – he should’ve guessed that).

“...If I am able to–”

“You won’t–”

“When I fulfill your requirements,” Voldemort arrogantly says, face intense. “You and I will explore our connection, and you will meet with me frequently to do so.”

And now Harry is in a quandary. If Voldemort does what he’s been asked, Harry will have achieved what he’s been fighting for all six years of his adult life; if Voldemort doesn’t, Harry’s no worse off than he was before. And he knows the dark wizard won’t give up his cause simply because his soulmate asked, but if Voldemort does…

“You do realise that your soulmate is me, yeah?” Harry clarifies, unnerved by the shift in the other man's demeanour. “You don’t like me. At all.”

“Nonsense,” Voldemort says, waving off Harry’s really very logical point. “We simply haven’t had a chance to become properly acquainted.”

“...Because you’re always trying to kill me.”

“Details, details.” 

Harry would very much like to strangle the megalomaniac who is still in his apartment. “...Uh-huh. Sure, you become a completely different person and we’ll talk.”

He sometimes forgets that magic occasionally disregards sarcasm. This appears to be one of those times, as the heaviness in the air snaps tight around them, signifying Harry’s flippant “sure” just turned this discussion into a magically binding agreement. Merlin’s pierced nipples. So much for intent over phrasing.

Catching sight of Voldemort’s smug smirk, Harry suddenly feels genuinely homicidal for the first time in his life. Sensing his non-existent welcome is well and truly worn out, Voldemort says, “I look forward to it,” and apparates away. Harry pitches a cushion through the space the dark wizard just occupied. It helps settle his irritation a little.

He drops onto his couch with a deep, bone-tired sigh and tosses back Voldemort’s untouched glass of firewhiskey. 

He wonders if he’ll feel disappointed or relieved when Voldemort realises he’d rather keep trying to subjugate Magical Britain than have Harry as his soulmate.

Three days later, the war ends.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Billionaire Lee Minho and his Pretty Little Plaything

You're at billionaire Lee Minho's extravagant party at some fancy historical manor, where unbeknownst to you he want to make you his "Plaything".

Before you know what's happening you find yourself in a room with Minho, Changbin and Hyunjin. Minho has plans for you but he doesn't know you can play games too.

Pairing: Lee Know x fem reader, Changbin x fem reader, Hyunjin x fem reader.

Word count: 8k approx

a/n: This story was originally posted on my main blog @moonlightndaydreams called "Minho meets his match".

WARNINGS: NSFW // contains depictions of explicit sexual content // some m x m stuff // unsafe vagina sex // vaginal fingering // explicit language // oral sex female // oral sex male // nudity // sex in front of others // mild blood kink // choking // anal fingering // attempted anal sex // plaything kink // ejaculation // female ejaculation // cum eating

You felt the dark rappers eyes watching you as soon as you stepped into party, making the hairs on your neck stand on end.

He was weighing you up, you could tell, making you feel self conscious and short of breath. Trying to compose your racing heart, you smoothed down the satin fabric of your long slinky black dress (the one with the thigh high split) as you made your way to the make shift bar across the room, hoping he’d lose interest in you.

But his stare bored into your back, burning into your skin and through your flesh melting your insides.

“A sparkling wine please.” You said to the bar tender, and he passed you your glass of alcohol.

You hadn’t intended to come to the party but your boss said it would be a good idea to make an appearance and so here you were, begrudgingly. You preferred a quiet night with your stories.

You sipped your drink and took in your surroundings. The party was being hosted by billionaire Lee Minho, one of the most eligible bachelors of the moment. The man had an impeccable reputation as a respectable gentleman. You hadn’t ever heard a negative or scandalous thing about him. Not even a whisper. “Hmmm” you scoffed, either he was incredibly boring or incredibly careful.

But, he was intriguing, you thought to yourself. Look at this place. Who would host a glamorous party in an historical Manor instead of the newest and flashiest club? You cast your eyes around the room. The place was pulsing with people and the music was pounding through the sound system that had been set up.

The manor felt more like a castle, and you loved the stone pillars and architecture. You admired the grand staircase that made it’s way up the second floor, to what you could only assume were offices or accommodation. You didn’t really know what was up there, and you didn’t get a chance to wonder either because when you dropped your eyes from the upper level you locked eyes on the dark rapper leaning against the wall next to the staircase.

Changbin was his name, and he was a popular music artist. A well known rapper and producer. He was also Lee Minho’s right hand man. Or security guard. You weren’t quite sure what his relationship with Lee Minho entailed, but he was never far away.

You didn’t realise you were biting your lower lip as you watched him watch you, his arms were crossed over his broad, chest and he had one booted foot resting against the wall behind. He opened his pouty mouth slightly and you felt your cheeks reddening as he unashamedly looked you up and down.

Your melted insides now felt like they were pooling in your vagina and moistening your panties. You shouldn’t be turned on but you were. You clenched your vagina walls and you felt an ache to be filled and stretched. How dare he stare at you like this? How dare he make you feel this way?

You downed the remainder of your beverage and slammed the empty glass on a nearby table before you boldly walked towards him. He didn’t budge. He didn’t even look away. He just kept his eyes locked on you as though your were the tastiest thing he’d ever seen. You didn’t take your eyes off him either and you found it thrilling to be challenging him like this.

You had almost reached him, but at the last second you turned to your left and went up the stairs.

You didn’t even know where you were heading, but there was no way you were going to give Changbin the satisfaction of you approaching him. He would have thought that his dark stare had somehow cast a spell on you and that you needed to be his, and that you’d fall straight into his trap… or lap. But you didn’t like giving in to people that easily. You were agitated that your body was betraying your thoughts and challenging your willpower. That’s why you went upstairs. To get away from the situation, and you hoped he wouldn’t follow you. Well your brain was hoping that he wouldn’t follow you… what your body was hoping for you weren’t so sure.

The landing presented you with two options - a dark, narrow hallway to the left, or a long, somewhat lit hallway directly in front of you. You decided to go with the second option. The hallway was wide with many doors along both sides, and a large window at the end. There were wall lamps between each of the doors lighting the way.

You suddenly felt a surge of panic when you realised that if Changbin had followed you then where would you hide? What if all of the doors were locked? You felt trapped as your heart rate increased and your hairs stood on end (again). You were about to look over your shoulder to see if he had followed you, but before you could even turn your head a hand grabbed your arm and pushed you back hard against the wall. You let out a squeal and your eyes widened as Changbin stood close to you, trapping you with his arms resting on either of side of your head.

“This…” he whispered “is an out of bounds area. You shouldn’t be up here.” His voice was cold and stern and his eyes were dark and challenging.

“I was just looking for the bathroom.” You said defiantly. Who could argue with the call of nature, right?

Changbin clicked his tongue as it to say that’s the oldest excuse in the book.

He stepped even closer to you, his body pressed against yours making you feel weak in the knees. You could feel his length hardening in his trousers and your molten insides were really seeping out of you now. You weren’t about to let on that he was affecting you this way.

He released his right hand from the wall and his fingers ghosted your cheek, your neck, the side of you breast and stomach, but he didn’t touch you until he placed it on your left hip. Your breath hitched and got caught in your throat, but you stared, no, glared at him trying to gain some sort of control or power over the situation. But he simply dug his teeth into his lip and dropped his gaze to your lips and then further to the top of your cleavage.

The hand he still had pressed against the wall softly landed on the spaghetti strap of your dress, slipping his finger underneath. But he didn’t slide it off your shoulder. He seemed to be contemplating what he wanted to do. What he could do. He knew all it would take was to slip the flimsy strap down your arm and you’d be exposed to him. He let out a long exhale.

Then his eyes snapped back up to yours as he snapped out of his thoughts.

“Anyway, I guess it doesn’t really matter that you’re up here. Mister Lee has asked me to collect you. He’s requested your presence.”

He’s what? Why would Lee Minho want to see you? How does he even know who you are?

Your intuition kicked into gear. Something didn’t seem right. There was absolutely no reason for him to need to see you. What could he possibly want with you? Minho seemed far too squeaky clean on the outside to really be squeaky clean, and that made you suspicious.

You felt the urge to get out of there. Fast.

Adrenaline kicked in and you kicked Changbin in the leg as hard as you could, startling him and making him step back. Now was your chance, but he was blocking your way back towards the stairs.

That left you having to run up the hallway, testing doors. Most of them were locked. What were you going to do?

Chanbgin quickly recovered and was slowly closing in on you. But he didn’t seem rushed or panicked. It was like in those horror movies where the victim would be running away from the serial killer who would simply walk calmly in pursuit, and then eventually... you didn't want to think about that.

In your frantic attempt to get away, you managed to find an unlocked door. Thank Fuck. You felt a wave of relief as you stepped inside and closed the door, locking it from the inside. You leaned your head against the door panting. You were safe for now.

Once you caught your breath and calmed your racing heart, you turned around to see where you were. That’s when you saw him. Lee Minho sitting on a brown leather couch, arms outstretched along he backrest, and in his lap was a man’s head, sucking his cock.

“Look Hyunjin, my plaything has arrived.” He said amused as he smirked and gave you the deadliest glare you’d ever seen.

———

You stood fixed to the spot. What the actual fuck was happening?

Hyunjin lifted his head and looked up at you. You didn’t know where to look, your eyes darting between Hyunjin’s puffy, slobbery lips, and Minho’s throbbing, angry cock before snapping back up to meet Minho’s deadly stare.

“Do you like what you see, pretty lady?” He sneered.

This was messed up. You had to get the fuck out of there. You spun around and went for the door, hoping to God that Changbin had given up on you and gone back downstairs. But as you opened the door ready to bolt you ran smack bang into a hard chest. Changbin.

He’d been standing outside the door and now he was edging you back into the room.

You didn’t dare let the three men see your fear that was coursing through you, or that other feeling that you were ignoring, as you were backed towards the edge of an unoccupied couch.

“Sit.” Changbin instructed and gently pushed you into the chair and then he proceeded to sit in the armchair opposite you, crossing his arms and staring you down.

You look to the two men on the couch on your right. Hyunjin had now sat up and was sitting with his legs crossed, leaning on his hand and watching you curiously. He had his tongue poked out between his plump, red lips and strands of black hair had escaped his pointy tail, making him look disheveled.

The way he looked at you made you feel like you were the most interesting and unique creature he’d ever laid eyes on, while at the same time that’s how you were looking at him too.

Fuck, he was stunning, you thought. He was wearing a white button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and he’d paired it with black dress pants. Designer for sure.

If Changbin’s eyes bored through your skin and melted your insides, then Hyunjin’s eyes set you on fire.

You folded your arms across your chest, fully aware that it pushed your cleavage up, and crossed one leg over the other, the split in your dress exposing almost the entire length of your leg. You might be scared, but you certainly weren't shy.

Although you were directing a death stare Minho, you registered in your peripheral Changbin stiffen and grip the chair arms, and Hyunjin slinked down like a feline onto his side to lean on couch arm to continue watching you.

Minho just stared right back at you. His eyes were dark, like Changbin’s, but there was something else there. There was a sinisterness, a glimmer of evil behind his eyes, like this was a game.

But you were good at playing games too.

Minho was about to meet his match.

---------------------------

“Okay. Look. This…” you gesture around the room “is well and truly fucked up. I don’t know who you are, or what you want. And what do you mean by ‘plaything’ anyway? And what makes you think that I’m it? You don’t fucking know me!” you ranted, not pausing, not giving them a chance to interject. You were absolutely fuming mad. "Who the fuck are you people?"

Hyunjin silently laughed to himself, and Changbin didn’t budge. Minho smirked, one corner of his mouth curling up.

“Are you quite finished?” he sounded amused as you continued to glare at him.

“Of course you know who we are,” he scoffed. “And we know who you are.” You swallowed hard.

“And… by ‘plaything’” the smirk and amusement leaving his face and replaced with a cold expression. “I mean I am going to fuck you however I like, as many times as I like, and… as hard as I like. And when you beg me to stop… I’ll just keep going…and when I do stop, well” he paused for a moment then whispered “you’ll want me to do it again.”

Your mouth hung open in disbelief as you let his words sink in. What a presumptuous asshole! How dare he be so fucking cocky. How dare he think he can request your presence and then do whatever the fuck he wants with you?

“But,” Minho’s calculating voice broke your frantic thoughts. “I’m not going to fuck you until you beg for it.”

You couldn’t help yourself but burst out laughing. What the actual fuck?

“So,” you tried to control your condescending laugh “you’re not going to do anything until I beg you?” you shook your head. Wow. “Don’t you think that’s a bit, I don’t know, up yourself?” you raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. He was actually very attractive, but there would be no way in hell that you would ever beg him to have sex with you. Out of principle. But you were intrigued, and you were curious to see how this would unfold.

Minho said nothing, but his equally condescending stare told you he that he thought he knew better.

His eyes silently challenged you. “You can try to fight this all you like, but you will beg me to fuck you. That, I can promise.” He said, whispering the last part. It sent chills down your spine. You glared at him for what felt like a whole minute.

“Not if you beg me for it first.” You said coldly. Minho looked taken aback. He wasn’t expecting you to challenge him like this. He might’ve expected you to simply leave, but actually dare to suggest that he’d be the one doing the begging? Well this sounded interesting to him and you could see it in his facial expression.

He nodded his head “Okay, I get it, your a feisty one. I should’ve expected that. But I think you will be sorely disappointed.”

“Yes, well we’ll see won’t we?” you responded.

Hyunjin looked thrilled with what was unfolding as he looked wide-eyed between the you and Minho. Changbin just continued to sit silently like a stoic statue.

Now you needed to think of a way to get Minho to beg you to let him fuck you. Just that thought alone jolted you into the realisation that what if he did beg? Would you really want that? Would you really let him do that to you?

You studied Minho while you contemplated what to do. Physically he looked fucking sexy, his face was pleasant when he didn’t have a sinister expression (which by the way the sinister expression did do things to you that you didn’t dare want to admit). His body seemed toned and fit, although it was hiding under a dinner suit. Then there was his cock, which had been put back in his trousers. You could tell from that quick glimpse earlier it was impressive, and you were certain he knew how to use it well.

But his arrogance and self assuredness really pissed you off and fired you up. It ignited your competitive side. You liked to win, and you fucking hated to lose.

So yes, you would let him fuck you if he begged you.

And with that you made your first move.

“Hyunjin,” you said softly. His eyes darted to yours curiously. “Come sit on the floor in front of me.” You ushered him down to the floor, and like a slinky panther he slid to the floor and sat at your feet.

“You’re really pretty close up.” He giggled.

“You think?” you smiled back at him. Hyunjin’s eyes followed your exposed leg from the ankle all the way up to the top of your thigh and he licked his lips.

“Do you like what you see?” you taunted. Hyunjin nodded “Hmmm…yes.” He whispered.

“You can touch me if you want, Hyunjin.” And you snapped your eyes up to Minho who shrugged and made a face like he didn’t care.

Hyunjin brought a finger to your ankle and traced a long, delicate finger slowly up your shin, over your knee and along the top of your thigh. It sent a shiver through you and you could feel yourself burning up.

“I know you like sucking cock, Hyunjin, but… do you like eating pussy too?” Hyunjin’s head snapped up and he nodded excitedly. “I fucking love eating pussy.”

You leaned in close to Hyunjin’s ear and whispered “Do you want to be a brat to Minho and eat my pussy?”

You leaned back on the sofa and Hyunjin slid your dress up to spread your knees wide. He let out a wobbly exhale and his tongue hung out of the corner of his mouth. And for a long moment he just admired you, gazing between your legs before sliding your underwear off. You looked at Minho and you caught him swallowing hard.

From where Changbin sat across the room he had a full view of your pussy and you could see it was having an affect on him. His mouth had parted again and his eyes had that same hungry look that he had when he watched you earlier downstairs.

Hyunjin dove between your legs and it took you by surprise, making you squeal. Minho laughed from the side.

Hyunjin knew what he was doing, building you up to three long, slender fingers in no time at all. His wicked tongue doing obscene things to your lips and clit. His fingers expertly pressed into your g-spot and it made you come undone within 5 minutes, shaking and clenching around his mouth and fingers.

Once you came down from your high, you pushed Hyunjin away and instructed him to lay on the shag rug in front of the couches. You knelt between his legs to undo his trousers and released his long cock. How the fuck were you going to suck him off? He was simply too long! You quickly worked out that the best way to tackle this was to straddle Hyunjin’s chest, that way his cock would enter your mouth at a much better angle to take him in your throat.

But you still couldn’t get him all in. But boy did you try. You fought back the urge to gag, tears ran down your face, saliva dribbled out the corners of your mouth and down his length. You used your hand to take care of what you couldn’t take with your mouth, and you found a steady rhythm that seemed to be driving Hyunjin wild.

You felt his hands land on your ass and then slide your dress up over your hips so he could get another good look at you before pulling you back to sit on his face. His tongue dove into your pussy and his perfect lips sucked on your clit again. He lifted you off his face slightly so he could run his thumb along your folds, slicking it up, and pushing it into your second entrance while pulling you back down onto his face. You groaned at the burning stretch and rolled your hips, grinding and sliding your wetness all over his face.

Hyunjin was losing control under you, grunting and bucking his hips up into your face as he painted your throat in cum, making you literally choke on his cock and semen.

You were so close to orgasm but you had other ideas and you lifted yourself up off of Hyunjin.

“Naww… but I haven’t felt that pussy around my cock yet.” He whined as he laid spent on the floor.

“Patience, Hyunjin.” you reassured him.

You stole a glance up at Minho. His eyes were nearly black with rage as he scowled at you disapprovingly.

So he didn’t like what you were doing? Good.

You set your sights on Changbin next. You crawled towards him and he parted his legs so you could kneel in between them. With hooded eyes you looked up at him. His eyes were cloudy with lust, and his fucking pouty lips were driving you crazy. And he was hard, so fucking hard in his trousers. You reached for his belt. You wanted to relief him of his erection, but he grabbed your wrist and shook his head.

“I don’t want your slutty mouth around my cock until you’ve kissed me.” He said gruffly, and pulled you up to straddle his lap.

Wow that sentence started off so dirty and ended so… sweet, you thought and you leaned in to gently kiss his mouth. He tasted like whiskey and toothpaste, and it didn’t take long before you were devouring his mouth and sinking your tongue in to connect with his. You lifted your dress out of the way so that your bare pussy rubbed against his trousers, the friction feeling delicious. His hands roamed your back, caressed your ass, guiding you as you ground against his hardness.

You were shaking with desire and you were dying to come again “I need you inside me, Changbin.” You panted. You shifted back so you could access his fly and hastily released his cock, and slid yourself down over his shaft.

Changbin grunted and he looked like he was in pain as you rode him slowly.

“Fucking hell you feel so good.” He grunted and he buried his face in your neck.

Changbin definitely had some girth to him and you mewled at how stretched open he made you feel. He reached up to your spaghetti strap and this time he tucked a finger underneath the flimsy string and tugged it off your shoulder. He repeated the action for the other strap and allowed the top of your dress to slip down to reveal your breasts.

Changbin’s mouth latched onto a nipple, nibbling and flicking it with his tongue. His other hand giving your other breast a meaty squeeze.

“Turn her around, Changbin.” Hyunjin suggested. “Let Minho see her face while she’s being fucked.”

With one last growl and a bite of your nipple, Changbin easily lifted you off his cock so you could turn around.

With one foot on placed on the seat either side of his thighs, you lowered yourself back down onto his dick and leaned back against his chest.

“Take off her dress.” Hyunjin prompted.

Minho remained silent, but never looked away.

Changbin lifted your dress over your head and tossed it to the side. Now you were fully naked and completely exposed. You felt a rush of adrenaline as Hyunjin watched you with fascination. Changbin’s hands roamed your naked form, before landing back on your breasts. He seemed to love your tits. And you loved the way his hands felt as he fondled them.

You leaned your head right back against Changbin’s shoulder, offering him your neck. He took it willingly, sucking your pulse.

You felt Hyunjin’s hands under your thighs, lifting your legs up so that your knees were pushed against your chest. You had no control of the thrusting now, and you were at the mercy of the two men.

Hyunjin would slide you halfway up Changbin’s cock and Changbin would roll his hips up into you completely, then he’d roll back out. Then Hyunjin would slide you up part way and drop you back down full force onto the rapper’s cock. Sometimes they’d work together where Hyunjin would lift you up almost the whole way off Changbin and then forcefully ram you back down at the same time Changbin would snap his hips up. It made you cry out in pleasure.

Then Hyunjin found your clit with his tongue and that was truly more than you could bare. With one hand around Chsngbin’s neck, the other in Hyunjin’s hair, your gaze drifted to Minho. His mouth was hung open and his eyes now had a different look to them. You couldn’t quite pick what it was about them, but the way he looked a you sent you hurtling towards orgasm.

It sent Changbin over the edge too, and you felt his cum spurt up into you as he screamed out an animalistic growl.

As you came down, you realised how truly exhausted you were, and it took you a while to stop shaking.

Hyunjin wasted absolutely no time pulling you off Changbin. He was hard again and he was dying to fuck you.

He laid you down on the carpet and you felt Changbin’s cum seeping out of you onto the rug. You hoped no one would notice.

“Let me fuck that back into you.” Hyunjin whispered deviously. The man was beautiful, but fuck he was bratty too.

He hovered above you and gazed at you momentarily, then he dove into your neck at the same time he drove his cock into you. You winced as he hit your cervix, but it didn’t seem to bother him, and he kept trying to inch as much of himself into as he could with every thrust. He was immersed in his own world, as he smashed into you, and as much as it wasn’t comfortable, you were still willing to take it.

Just when you thought tears were going to spring from your eyes, Hyunjin flipped onto his back, taking you along with him so your were on top. This new position allowed you to control the depth of Hyunjin, offering your cervix some respite. Before you had time to register it, you felt Changbin at your side offering you his cock. You took it in your mouth, and enthusiastically worked it like your life depended on it.

“Fuck that’s hot” Hyunjin sighed underneath you as he watched you sucking Changbin off.

“Changbin, come fuck her with me…help me tear up her insides.”

Your eyes widened in fear and you knew that Minho and Changbin saw your reaction. You accidentally bit down on Changbin’s dick, and he pulled out with a yelp.

“S-sorry.” You whispered desperately to him.

“Come on Binnie, I’m not going to last long.” Hyunjin whined.

Changbin looked like he’d seen a ghost. “No… I can’t,” he shook his head. “I..I don’t want to.” And with that he abruptly did up his trousers and hastily left the room.

“Well I wanna fuck your ass even if he doesn’t.” Hyunjin announced, not in the slightest bit fazed that his friend just stormed off. He lifted you off his cock and pushed you down onto your stomach and rubbed the head of his cock through your lips to line himself up with your back entrance.

But before he had a chance to penetrate you, he was suddenly thrown off you.

“Get the fuck out of here!” Minho roared. Hyunjin looked up at him bewildered. Minho glared furiously at Hyunjin. “I said get the fuck out of here. NOW!” and he dragged him by the collar and thew him out the door.

Minho turned back to you, and you saw an expression you hadn’t seen before. It was concern.

You felt like such a fool, and so fucking pathetic sitting there naked on the rug with cum still leaking out of you.

You didn’t want to look at Minho. He went to the corner of the room and returned with a throw blanket and wrapped it around your naked body.

“I think you’ve done more than enough, don’t you?” he said sternly. He lifted you up and carried you to the couch and sat you beside him.

He reached to the table next to couch and poured a glass of water. “Here.” He said pointing the glass at you. You took it begrudgingly and drank it down in one gulp. You were absolutely parched.

“Look, I just want to check…” he started, but you looked away. Minho took your chin in his hand and turned it back forcing you to look directly at him. “I want to know you’re okay.” His eyes searched yours, looking for any indication that you were hurt.

The walls you had up when you entered this room suddenly felt like they were going to crumble. You sucked in your bottom lip, squeezed your eyes closed and nodded. “Yeah. I’m okay.” Your voice was so small.

Minho stroked your cheek, moving some loose strands of hair off your face. There wasn’t a hint of malice in his expression now.

“That’s better.” He said as he pushed the last strands of hair behind your ear.

His touch felt tender, as he tightened the blanket more snugly around you.

His eyes were warm as they drank in your lips.

You hated it. You wanted to scream at him. How dare he suddenly be so… so kind?

Then you kissed him.

---------------------

You pulled away abruptly, shocked at yourself.

Minho held your gaze with soft eyes but you could tell his mind was at work.

Then he reached around the back of your head and leaned in to kiss you. His kiss was a mix of urgency and care and you melted into it fast. His tongue dipped delicately into your mouth to catch yours. The man knew how to kiss, and the way it made you feel you knew you didn’t have much hope of resisting him.

It set you on fire, and without thinking you climbed onto his lap and straddled him, not breaking contact with his mouth even for a moment. The blanket slipped off you as one hand cupped his face and other one grabbed him greedily around the back of his neck. Minho’s hands were all over you, frantically trying to be everywhere at once. Everywhere except where you desperately wanted him to be. You unbuttoned his shirt, practically ripping it from his body, and explored his chest with your hands. You tried to grind on his crotch and you could feel he was aroused. He was so hard in his trousers, you thought it would somehow unzip his pants and spring free by itself.

“Minho,” you sounded so desperate and you hated it.

He leaned back and took a good look at your naked body then tilted his head up to meet your eyes. He brushed your jawline with his thumb.

He knew what you wanted. You knew your eyes were begging him to touch you.

“Say it for me, beautiful.” He said with a strained voice and dark, hungry eyes. The need in his voice took you by surprise. He gripped your hips and ground his crotch against you. “I can’t do it unless you beg, remember?” he panted. He was basically begging you to beg him, and you knew he was on the verge of giving in.

“Beg me to be your plaything, Minho” you cooed in response.

Minho snickered. “That’s not how this works.” He hissed, and leaned up to nibble your ear. “But you are making it so very hard.” He sighed.

You reached down to palm his trousers. “I know I am.” You smiled devilishly.

Minho, with what looked like all his self control, pulled right back and stopped touching you completely. It seemed he hoped this move would make you cave. And you nearly did. But you decided to take a gamble.

“Fine, Minho.” You huffed. “I said from the start I wouldn’t beg. And, I said if you begged me to, I would be your plaything. But if you’re not going to…” You slid off Minho’s lap and covered yourself with the blanket.

Minho winced at the sudden loss of being able to see and feel your body that was literally in his lap a moment ago.

You picked up your crumpled dress and panties and turned your back to Minho so you could get dressed.

The blanket pooled around you feet as it dropped to the floor and you struggled to untangle the dress from the mess Changbin made when he took it off you. How the fuck did he manage to get it half inside out?

You almost had the dress back the right way, and was about to step into it when you felt Minho’s arms wrap around your waist.

“Please stay,” he whispered into your ear and holding you close against his bare chest. “Please be mine tonight.”

You felt his hot breath on your neck and it sent your head in a spin.

“I need you.” His hands slid down your sides, your head fell back against his shoulder. “I have to be inside you.” He licked a trail from your shoulder up to your ear and then took the lobe in his mouth.

“How badly do you want it.” Your voice was barely a whisper. You were enjoying what his words were doing to you. He was fucking seducing you. And it was working.

“I’m fucking begging you to let me taste you. And feel you. And. Fuck. You.”

Every single part of your body was begging for him to own you, yet he was the one who said it first. It didn’t make you feel like you’d won. It made you feel wanted.

Minho spun you around to face him and stared straight into your eyes, waiting for your answer.

“I wanna be your plaything, Minho,” you said. “Fuck me however you want, as long as you want and as hard as you want. I wanna feel what you can do to me.” You said silkily and undid his trousers and dropped them to the floor, allowing Minho to step out of them. He looked God-like. “I need you to-”

Minho kissed you slow and deep and you wrapped your legs around him as he lifted you up and placed you lengthwise on the couch.

He was on top of you, pinning you down and devouring you in the most tender way possible. You thought he’d just throw you down and fuck you stupid.

His kisses were firm but careful and the pace slow and steady. It was like he was making love to you with just his mouth and it sent tingles down your spine. His hard cock pressed against you but he didn’t attempt to penetrate you. You wanted him to though.

As the kiss continued, little moans escaped both of you and your bodies began to react by writhing against one another.

Minho smiled against your mouth and peeled his lips away from yours “I’m gonna kiss your pussy like this now.”

He kissed his way down your body, slowing down when he reached your pubic bone so he could pay extra attention there. He kissed the crease where your thigh joined your body and he nibbled your inner thigh.

You whimpered when his precious lips made contact with your labia and clitoris. He kissed you in exactly the same way he kissed your mouth. Soft. Tender. Slow. Intentional. His tongue gently dipped in to caress your clit while his lips pressed against your swollen labia. Every now and then he’d gently suck or flick your clit with the tip of his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch this mysterious man do these wickedly sensual things to you.

He looked up at you with smiling eyes and you were certain he was actually smiling. You were melting into the couch, you’d never been given this type of attention from any of your previous lovers. It was heavenly.

You watched as Minho moved his kisses down to your entrance, where they became hungrier and more urgent. But still so gentle. You must have been dripping wet by now. And you absolutely ached for him to be inside you.

“Minho… you’re so soft…and careful…” you could barely speak.

“And…is that a problem?” he teased playfully.

“I…just… don’t… understand..” Why couldn’t you talk properly?

Minho licked a stripe up through your lips and lifted his head. But he didn’t take his eyes off your pussy.

“You see… If I go softly and give your sweet pussy proper attention,” he dipped his head and kissed you. His voice was low and husky and his eyes became so dark you thought they’d turned black. “You’ll be able to take more of what I’m going to give you,” he sucked on your clit. “you’ll be able to stretch wider…” He slid a finger through your dripping folds and brought it to his mouth to suck it clean.

You thought you were going to come on the spot.

“You’ll be able to take it deeper…” he brought his finger back down to tease your entrance. “And…” he paused. “it’ll make the pain feel more….exquisite when I hurt you.” And he slid his finger into you and pressed against your g-spot bringing you almost to -

He removed his fingers just as you were about to come. You clenched your fists and squeezed you vagina hoping to bring on the release. But you’d lost it. Fucking bastard!

He knew exactly what he’d done. The satisfaction on his face was as plain as day.

“Now beautiful,” he blew cold air on your lips to deliberately make you squirm. “You’re gonna take four fingers for me, okay?”

Your eyes bulged. You’d never take four fingers before. Minho saw your horrified expression. “You’ve never had anyone stretch you open like that, hmm?” he lifted an eyebrow.

You shook your head quickly.

Minho reached down to the floor and picked up the blanket and placed it under you body. Then he found a stray cushion and placed in under your head, kissing your mouth then shimmying his way back down to get to work.

He brought two fingers to your entrance, as his mouth found your clit again. You moaned as he slipped his digits inside of you.

“Trust me beautiful. Your body can take it, I promise. You want to be a good plaything don’t you?” He purposefully avoided your g-spot as he slowly fucked you with his two fingers. You began to move your hips against him. Two fingers wasn’t enough.

Minho removed his fingers only to find you again with three. You sucked in your breath as he squeezed into you. This was the kind of stretch you loved and you mewled as he started to slowly pump you with them.

“Baby, shhh… slow your breathing…I need you to relax. Can you do that for me beautiful.” He slowed down his thrusts even further and kissed your stomach before looking up at you.

“Are you ready to take the last one? Can you be a good plaything and take it for me?”

“Mm-hmm… please.” You wanted to feel whatever he was willing to give you. Even if that scared you a little.

Minho pushed one of your legs to hang off the side of the couch, the other he pushed up towards your chest, and brought all four fingers to your entrance. “You’re such a good girl. Trust me, your body knows what to do.” And he edged the tips of his fingers into you.

You cried out at the stretch. It was like nothing you’d ever felt. You had friends who talked of doing this easily, but it was new for you, and you weren't one hundred percent sure you could manage it.

Your threw your hands above your head and gripped the top edge of the cushion your head was laying on. You felt like you were going to suffocate, and your pussy felt like it was going to split in two.

Minho moved slowly. He wasn’t in a rush. “Fuck you are taking me so fucking well.”

Were you? You dared to steal a glance at his face. His mouth hung open and his hazy, dark eyes were fixated on what his hand was doing to you. You could see how aroused this was making him, and it made you want to take every inch of him.

Laying your head back down on the cushion you immersed yourself in the feeling of him stretching you further as his fingers buried deeper. It was overwhelming, but addictive. You allowed yourself to moan loudly and cry out as the sensations intensified. You thought he was buried all the way in, but somehow he inched in even further.

“Fuck! Oh…uh…shit…” you cried out louder than ever.

You had lost any sense of your surroundings, the only thing you could focus on was the sensations in your body. You felt drunk and light headed as all the blood flow was down the other end. You felt like you were swimming in euphoria.

“That’s it… you look so fucking beautiful taking this. But I think you can take more.” Said Minho.

Then you registered his fingers on your other entrance. Jesus Christ, what was he going to do?

“Your pretty little hole is begging me to stretch it too.” He said smoothly, and he pushed his finger past the rim.

It seemed it really was begging to be stretched because you moaned with such relief that you were almost about to cry tears.

Satisfied, Minho moved up to two fingers. It burned, but it felt incredible.

“I told you the pain would feel exquisite, didn’t I?” He cooed.

“Yes!” you practically screamed. In fact you were sure that the party downstairs could hear your cries of pleasure.

You squeezed your eyes tight and gripped the cushion, and now that he was fully inside of you, your hips started to rock for more friction.

“Hmm you’re ready for me to really finger fuck you now?”

God. Yes.

You expected him to start thrusting his hand in and out of you, instead it was more of a grind, aiming and digging his fingers forcefully into your sensitive g-spot.

He removed his fingers from your ass and you whined, but he was back with more, you weren’t sure how many, and you didn’t dare to look. Instead you lost yourself to Minho, surrendering to him as he played with you.

His mouth somehow found your clitoris, his mouth hot and hungry. You were writhing and bucking up into his face and hands. You felt like you were going to choke because your could hardly breath. Your back arched and your cries became screams as your body stiffened then convulsed around the man between your legs.

You felt a sudden, forceful release on top of your orgasm. Shit! You thought you’d peed yourself. Your eyes shot open and you looked down to find Minho who was lapping up all of your juices. You were horrified.

Minho looked up pleased with himself. “Fuck, I’d never seen a woman squirt before!”.

Holy fuck. You ejaculated?

Before you had a chance to process what had just happened, Minho removed his fingers from you and crawled up to you face and hovered above you.

“Taste yourself.” He whispered and crashed his lips on yours. This was the first ravenous and messy kiss you’d shared.

“Lick these clean for me, little plaything.” He said and pushed all four fingers that had just been buried in your pussy into your mouth. You eagerly took them, greedily sucking your wetness off of his perfect fingers.

“Minho?” you held his face in your hands.

“Yeah, beautiful?” he smiled and kissed your neck.

“I need you to fuck me. I…just…just can’t get enough of you.” You couldn’t help admitting how you felt. It wasn’t like you to be this vulnerable, but Minho had literally and figuratively opened you up, exposing you and there were no more walls to hide behind.

Minho’s smile turned into a smirk.

“Okay,” he kissed your cheek. “But I fuck rough.” He said stroking your face.

“I can take it.” You pant.

Minho raised an eyebrow “Of course you will, beautiful. I’ll make you take it.” He said low.

With one hand Minho gripped your wrists and pinned them above your head. You looked down as he grasped his cock in his other hand, giving it a few good pumps, not that he needed to. His cock was throbbing and so hard it looked painful.

He was probably around the same length as Hyunjin, but a with a little more girth. You remembered how hard it was to take him, and you swore you felt your cervix beg you to stop this instant.

But you didn’t want to stop. For some reason you trusted Minho with your body. You knew that he’d know how to fuck you properly.

Both you and Minho watched his cock slam into your vagina in one thrust. He cried out a low groan and closed his eyes. He absolutely ravished your neck, your breasts, your mouth, sucking and biting you as he slammed into you at a brutal pace. You tasted blood on his mouth as he kissed you. He must have broken some skin, but you weren’t sure where. You didn’t care. The pain felt good. The pain did feel… exquisite.

Minho hovered above you, your hands were still pinned above your head as he stroked your cheek with the other. He locked his eyes on yours as he slid his hand down to your neck and loosely gripping it.

His mouth was hung open again, and you could see a tiny smear of blood on the corner of his lip. His cheeks were flushed pink like he was drunk, and his eyes… they weren’t evil or malicious, but they were deadly.

You weren’t frightened, you were excited. Having this man’s hand around your neck while he was pinning you down and fucking you was the most erotic and thrilling thing you’ve ever experienced. How would you ever go back to vanilla sex?

“Choke me, Minho.” You didn’t recognise your voice. It didn’t sound like it came from you. But every fibre of being wanted him to completely own you. Every part of you wanted to be his plaything.

A flash of doubt crossed Minho’s face, but it was only for a second. The deadly expression returning as his fingers squeezed around your neck. He let go of your hands to prop himself up on his elbow so he could focus on your face properly. You felt lightheaded, but you could still breath, you just couldn’t get a full breath in. Minho didn’t take his eyes off yours, and when he was satisfied that he wasn’t squeezing too hard, he began to fuck you again. Brutally. Relentlessly. Unforgivingly.

He slammed into your cervix and forced his entire length inside of you on each thrust. But it didn’t feel like when Hyunjin was bruising your cervix, you wanted this, you welcomed it. It felt good.

Your hands explored Minho’s sweaty body, his muscles flexing and moving underneath your fingertips. The man was strong but also flexible, and he moved like a dancer above you, while he grunted like a wild animal on every thrust. And you mewled every time he punched into your cervix.

Minho experimented with his grip on your neck. He’d squeeze a little tighter and watch you reaction, or he’d loosen it and caress you tenderly. You felt yourself go tingly and thought you were going to float away. Other times you thought you were going to pass out. But you never did. Minho somehow knew your limits, and would only dance on the edge of them, never taking you beyond what you could manage.

“Come for me.” He commanded softly, and you fucking did, pulsing around his cock and shaking uncontrollably. It was like you really were his plaything, responding to his every whim.

Suddenly, Minho growled like a beast, and leaned back on his knees, letting go of your neck. He hooked your legs over his shoulder and lifted your hips up to meet his.

You thought he was fucking you rough before, but he kicked it up to another level as he chased his orgasm. Just the sight of him losing control brought on another one for you and then you felt him. His hot pulsing release, marking you, owning you. Ruining you.

He slumped back down on you, laying there wordless for a full five minutes.

Eventually, he propped himself up above you and kissed you just like he did earlier. A slow, careful, meaningful kiss. He peeled away and smiled like he was the luckiest man alive, and you grinned back at him. He looked happy. You were happy.

“That was pretty incredible.” He said kissing you again. “I’m not sure I could ever have someone else after that. I think you might have wrecked me” He added.

You felt your heart race, even though you knew he was just saying that because he'd just had sex with you.

“Well… it was the most incredible sex I’ve ever had!” you laughed.

“Aren’t you glad I let you be my plaything then?” he teased.

“Aren’t you glad you begged me?” you challenged.

Minho pulled out of you and got up to get his phone, the sat himself back on the couch, pulling your legs across his lap.

He dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. “Hey! Yeah, can you bring some food and drinks up to me? Yeah anything’s fine..” He said, then hung up.

“You’re probably starving after that. I know I am.”

Now that you thought about it, you were hungry, and thirsty. You sat up and made for your clothes, but Minho caught your arm. “Hey, we’re far from finished you know?” he said.

Oh. “But I thought… with the food coming…”

Minho chuckled softly and shook his head.

“We’re gonna eat, catch our breath…” he leaned in close. “And then you’re going to do to me exactly what you did to Hyunjin and Changbin.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @newhope8 @sunshinesquokka @queenmea604

[quizzicalwriter]

Can u Dallas winston x reader where the reader catches dally flirting with a girl so she ignores him getting mad and he says he loves her makes up and ifyw make it a smut x

Jealousy

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Dallas and his tendency to run away from situations when they get serious leads to hurt feelings, and some pleasure.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. This is filthy. Angst, just a smidge. Kissing, touching, fingering & titty attention. (both reader receiving.)

A/N: Thank you for the request!

Word Count: 4.2k

Being carted off to a party with Dallas was nothing new in your relationship, or ‘situationship’ - you weren’t sure which fit the situation better if you were being honest with yourself. You’d been seeing Dallas, exclusively, for around five months. It was enough time for you to get relatively close to the guys, most of whom seemed to pity you whenever parties came around.

You’d tried convincing yourself that Dallas’s behavior didn’t bother you, but it did. Anyone with eyes could see the way you’d glare at him whenever he entertained another woman, how he’d smile down at them with his hand loose on their waist. Occasionally one of the guys would come over to distract you, usually Ponyboy or Johnny, both of them knowing Dallas well enough to know his behavior wouldn’t shift just because you were present.

Eventually, you’d get tired, slam a few drinks back courtesy of Buck or whoever hosted the party you found yourself at, and then either leave or find someone to dance with yourself. It was toxic, you knew that, everyone knew that. But the nights when Dallas would hold you, whispering words into your skin as he fucked himself into you, it somehow made it all bearable. In truth, if you were able to come even near the realm of ecstasy Dallas could have you in you’d likely have moved on.

But beyond the pleasure, there were moments that you knew he didn’t share with others. How he’d come to you after a rumble, knuckles bloodied with a busted lip, allowing you to patch him up in silence. You’d check him over, gently cup his jaw in your hands, and look at him, the two of you exchanging silent words until you pressed a kiss to his forehead. Those nights would usually culminate in him resting against your chest, arms wrapped tightly around you as he fell asleep to the steady thump of your heartbeat, finding that his own synced up to yours perfectly.

Just like any other weekend where neither of you had anything to do, you found yourself clamoring into Buck’s T-Bird that Dallas so eagerly stole whenever he had the chance, not that Buck minded it, you never saw the man drive it himself. The way the smoke from his cigarette curled with his smile as he greeted you left you breathless, nearly forgetting to buckle yourself in as he took off toward the direction of a nearby party. As always, whenever you drove with Dallas, one of his hands rested calmly against the steering wheel while the other grasped at your upper thighs, fingers brushing against your clothed cunt whenever he felt the pull to do so - which was often.

After nearly fifteen minutes of driving he pulled up to a house you didn’t recognize, one flooded with various greasers. Despite being parked on the side of the road the heavy scent of cigarettes and cheap liquor flooded your senses, causing you to involuntarily wince as Dallas led you up the lawn, greeting a few people who seemed thrilled to see him. His fingers tucked into the back of your waistband, ghosting over your ass as you both climbed the steps into the house.

If the outside seemed chaotic, the inside of the house was the seventh layer of hell. Not that you hadn’t been to chaotic parties, you were with Dallas for Christ’s sake, but this was a whole different level. The floor felt sticky in various spots, couples all but fucking against nearby walls and corners, the air foggy with a mixture of cigarette and marijuana smoke. Yet somehow, amidst all of the chaos, Two-Bit spotted the both of you, quickly pulling Dallas into a drunken hug before leading you both toward the remainder of the guys.

They all liked you and had been kind enough to you during your relationship with Dallas, some of them feeling a fair bit of pity for you regarding Dallas’s behavior. It was something you noticed but preferred not to mention, you didn’t want to be the focus of their pity or some girl Dallas carted around. Luckily for you, both Ponyboy and Johnny seemed to like you the most, the two chatted you up as soon as you made yourself visible, both speaking about something they’d come across earlier in the day.

You made yourself comfortable, which was easy in their presence, moving to sit on the couch beside them as you chatted back with them. Time always seemed to pass quickly whenever you were around all of them, they felt like a second family to you, something you appreciated more than you could say. As you crossed your legs under yourself, Ponyboy said something funny, making you tilt your head back as you laughed, you then quickly looked for Dallas, knowing he would’ve found it funny as well.

Only he wasn’t there.

The density of the crowd made it impossible to seek him out, you turned to the side, looking between the rest of the guys in hopes that he was possibly speaking to one of them. But he wasn’t. Johnny quickly picked up your behavior, patting your shoulder as he began speaking about something else, hoping to take your mind off of it. But your mind didn’t register anything he said, your heart sinking in your chest the longer Dallas was out of your line of sight.

“I’m sorry, Johnny. I’ll be right back.” You murmured, gently smoothing your hand over his shoulder as you moved to stand. You hadn’t noticed that Ponyboy followed behind you, his eyes having caught on Dallas far sooner than yours had - and what he saw he knew would piss you off. So he did what he thought was best, he quickly moved in front of you, trying his best to guide you back to the couch. You lifted yourself onto your toes, having been through this charade with Ponyboy before. You looked toward the kitchen, figuring if anything Dallas could’ve gone to fetch himself a drink, it was just your luck that you could see over Ponyboy’s shoulder when you stood on your toes.

There he was, just beyond Ponyboy’s shoulder as the boy tried desperately to block your vision, an apologetic look written across his face. He seemed to sense it, you noticing Dallas, his smile quickly shifting into a frown as he backed away. There was nothing he could say, him or Johnny. What could they say to you at the sight of Dallas kissing another woman?

You weren’t sure what bothered you more, her hands on his chest or his fingers tangled in her hair. It reminded you of how you two were, how his hands often threaded their way through your hair whenever he couldn’t get enough of how you tasted. Was that what was happening with her? Was she just as addictive as you? Could he not get enough of her?

The thought made you sick, propelling you forward until you were ripping the random woman away by the back of her jacket, ignoring the plethora of curses directed your way as her side made contact with the lip of the nearby counter. Dallas seemed confused, angry even, until his eyes landed on you.

“Fuck.”

That was all he managed, and for some reason it made you laugh. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, being driven to a party by Dallas only to witness him kissing a girl with such intensity that her lipstick was smeared around her lips - and consequently his. You backed away from him then, shoving your way through the dense crowd as you made your way outside. The shouts from the guys didn’t go unnoticed, but even they knew there was no stopping you.

The night air felt cool, near stark in contrast to the heat that burned against your cheeks and chest. Embarrassment, shame, and a twinge of jealousy. Jealousy at the fact that you weren’t enough, you never had been. If you could patch him up, hold him against your chest, reassure him whenever his mind became too much all for it to still not be enough for him, what else could you do?

You felt the tears against your cheek before your mind had even registered that you’d been crying, ragged sobs tearing their way from your chest. The parking lot was a mess, as it always was whenever greasers made their way to a party. You bumped into several cars, hands beside yourself to help you maneuver through them all through the tears.

It wasn’t too long of a walk home, you could make it, no problem. At least that’s what you tried to convince yourself of as you wiped at your face yet again, thoroughly pissed off at yourself at the state of your makeup being smeared across your eyes. You’d almost made it to the street before you felt a hand wrap around your upper arm, causing you to jerk to a stop.

“Doll, please-“ Dallas started, voice strained as he looked down at you. You were having none of it, you were done. This was not going to be another night where he gave you a half-assed apology and you shoved down the emotions you desperately didn’t want to show.

“No, fuck you. Seriously-“ You groaned out, shoving him away harshly by his chest, causing his back to hit the metal of a nearby car. “Fuck you for making me think I’m anything more than a quick fuck.”

You could feel tears burning in your eyes, skewing your vision of Dallas as he stood with parted lips, cigarette burning down to the filter as the ash fell to the gravel below him. You wiped at your eyes, silently cursing at yourself to stop crying as you turned away from him, only to feel a warm hand against your shoulder.

“Doll, I-“ He started, his words quickly cut off as you shoved his hand from your body, anger, and disgust written across your face even as your cheeks were wet with tears.

“No, Dallas. You don’t get to apologize for this, I’m hurt. Okay? I’m hurt.” You replied, voice cracking as you stared up at him. “You don’t get to say something sweet and have this all disappear.”

You could feel anger burning in your chest, the taste creeping up the back of your throat, reminding you of when you’d been sick as a child. It burned as if it were bile, forcing every ill thought you’d stuffed down to creep to the surface.

“Do those women even care about you beyond what you can do for them in bed?” You started, moving toward him as you hastily shoved your hair from your face. “Do they, Dal? Is that what you want? Someone not attached? Someone who wouldn’t care if you disappeared?”

His jaw tensed, eyes flickering down to the road beside you two as he tossed his cigarette to the ground, snubbing it out with the heel of his shoe before shoving his hands into his pockets, chest heaving with each shaky breath his lungs allowed him to inhale.

“Talk to me!” You screamed out, voice hoarse from your near-constant sobbing. “Tell me what you want, Dallas. Do you want them? Or do you want me?”

The whole situation felt humiliating, as though you were begging him to love you, to see you as something other than a woman he could fall back on. You needed to be more than that, you weren’t sure your heart or mind could handle seeing him in the arms of another woman. No matter how the conversation ended, you needed closure and you needed for your heart to go a week without shattering into splinters within your chest.

“I don’t-“ He started, clearing his throat as he looked away. There was an emotion written across his face, one you’d only seen on nights when he’d crawled into your bed, silently crying into your chest - something neither of you had ever spoken about. “I’m scared, alright?”

You could tell he was putting on a facade, his shoulders rolling back as he spoke as if he were trying to shield himself from the emotions brewing within his chest. It was odd, seeing him be vulnerable, it was almost as though his body rejected it, his fight or flight kicking in and demanding for him to stonewall you instead of be truthful.

“Fuck, I- I don’t know how to do this, alright?” He looked to you then, brows screwed together with a frown evident on his face. “I want you, doll. But how can I know you’ll stay?”

You moved toward him then, wanting to encourage the vulnerability he was showing you. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as you turned his head to face you, determined to have his eyes locked with yours as you spoke.

“Tell me you want me and I’ll stay.” You whispered. “I can’t stand aside and watch you flirt with every woman nearby, alright? If you want me you can have me, but I can’t be with you if you’re going to do this.”

He leaned down then, arms languidly wrapping around your middle as he pulled you flush against him, breathing in the scent of you to help steady his thoughts. You could feel his fingers tighten against the back of your shirt, almost as though he were terrified you’d disappear in his hands.

“I want you.” He stated, tone wavering slightly as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck, back leaned against the siding of some random car. You sunk into his arms then, resting your cheek against his chest as you wrapped your arms around him as well, letting your eyes shut as you savored the moment of being held by him so delicately.

You wanted to be sure, wanted his words to mean something beyond an empty promise. So you looked up to him, taking a moment to wipe your eyes before placing your hands against his jaw, causing his eyes to lock with yours once more.

“Promise me.” You urged, fingers subtly pressing into his skin. “Promise me I’m the only one. You promise me that and I won’t leave you, I’ll be here. I’ll be in your arms, I’ll hold you. I’ll love you.”

He leaned into your touch, exhaling a breath as his lips quirked up into a smile. “You’re the only one, doll. I only want you.” He brought his hand up then, twisting his pinkie around yours, causing you to laugh through a sniffle. “Promise.”

You leaned up then, capturing his lips in a kiss that tasted of tears and cheap liquor, but you didn’t mind it. Your mind was focused on the feeling of his hands settling on your hips, the way he’d promised you something so important in such an innocent manner. It was him, him in every way you’d seen him behind closed doors. You trusted him, his words, his actions.

Dallas was many things, careless, reckless, mean - all things he’d learned during his childhood just so he could survive. You’d heard enough horror stories from him to last you a lifetime, and yet whenever he looked down at you or whenever he laid in your arms you couldn’t help but feel your heart break for the child who’d just wanted someone to do what he’d just done for you - a simple pinkie promise that they weren’t lying, that they were truthful and that they cared for him.

The thought made you squeeze your eyes shut tighter, hands grasping at the front of his shirt tight enough to hurt your palms. You knew him well enough to know that it’d take a while for him to fully let you in, but in the meantime, he’d let you try - and that was enough. All you’d ever wanted was a chance.

“I love you.” You whispered against his lips, the words followed by a shallow gasp of air as your lungs filled themselves with much-needed oxygen. “I love you.”

He didn’t say it back, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes as he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead before intertwining his fingers with your own. As he turned back to the house you stifled a groan, the noise catching his attention.

“We’re not going back inside, we’re going back to mine.” He replied through a soft laugh, dangling the car keys in front of your face as you both wove your way through the driveway to Buck’s car.

You’d both have to explain to the guys what’d happened when you left the party, but they could wait. As you climbed into the passenger side Dallas made his way over to the driver's side, plopping himself down before starting the ignition, the car humming to life on the quiet road.

The drive was quiet, your hand finding its way back to his, fingers intertwining once more as he pulled down a nearby street filled with vacant homes. One of those housing projects where they’d quit building right at the end, the eeriness of empty houses not being lost on you. Whenever the clouds cleared overhead the moon would cast a pale hue over the buildings, causing them to look more beautiful than anything, ivy growing along the broken windows and weeds nearly five feet tall somehow growing in between the porch boards.

After a few moments of calm silence, Dallas finally spoke, his words quiet enough that you might’ve missed them if you hadn’t been paying attention.

“I’m sorry.” He stated, turning his head to look at you. “I‘ve never been good at this- emotions, I mean. But I want to, I want to for you.”

You unbuckled your seatbelt, crossing over the center console to settle yourself on his lap, arms draped over his shoulders as you smiled down at him. “I know.” You replied, voice tender as you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead.

When his hands moved to your hips you quickly became aware of just how much you didn’t want to speak, as much as his voice soothed you - you didn’t want to spend the next hour talking over something that had already been solved. A different part of your body called out to him, one that needed to be reassured physically, reassured in a way only he could accomplish.

As if he were able to read your thoughts, his hands slid up your sides, brushing your shirt up with it. Each inch of your skin that was left exposed to the night air quickly became alight with goosebumps, his touch only causing the sensitivity to heighten. His hands moved behind you, unclasping your bra in one swift movement, letting the fabric fall between you before he leaned down to capture your breast in his warm mouth.

Your hands found their way to his hair, a soft sigh falling from your lips as you grasped onto the dark brunette strands, hips subtly rocking against his lap as his tongue swirled around your nipple. As he sucked and kissed along your flesh his free hand moved to cup your other breast, gently kneading it in his grasp as his hips bucked up against you.

He was so, so talented with his tongue. It often left you baffled, unable to take in a breath without it sounding akin to a whine - just as he currently had you. Your hand moved from his hair then, smoothing down his chest to his lap. Unzipping his jeans had all but become muscle memory, something you could do without looking. As you pressed kisses along his forehead and temple you unzipped his jeans, dipping your hand into his boxers as you began pumping him.

A silent curse fell past his lips, his hips bucking up into your palm as his grasp on your hip tightened, the other squeezing harder at your breast, fingers gently tweaking your nipple as he focused his attention on the other. You could feel him growing desperate, precum dribbling from his tip as he groaned against your soft flesh.

Your hand tightened around his cock as he teasingly bit at your breast, pulling a grunted-out laugh from his chest as his hands then moved to your jeans, unbuttoning them before pushing his hand inside of your underwear, cupping your sex as he trailed kisses between your breasts.

His fingers trailed lazily over the wetness of your cunt, barely touching your clit enough to grant you any true satisfaction as he continued kissing along your breasts. You knew he could feel your hips grinding down against his fingers, but it didn’t seem to deter him any, he continued his teasing, slowly leaving love bites along your chest as he gently pushed his middle and ring finger into your waiting cunt.

He groaned as you clenched around his fingers, hardly giving him a second before bouncing yourself on his fingers. You’d been desperate before, but everything paled in comparison to the current fire racing through your veins. He kissed up your neck, nipping at your pulse point as he pushed his palm up against your clit, letting you grind down against his hand as you continued to pump him.

Before long you couldn’t stand it, his fingers perfect, just not enough - you needed more, needed him. You leaned back, hastily pushing down your jeans to which he quickly helped, tossing the bundled-up denim into the backseat of Buck’s car along with your soaked underwear.

It was far from the first time you two had fucked in a car, your knees on either side of his thighs feeling like home for you, his tip teasingly pushing along your slick folds making you grasp onto his shoulders, fingers pressing into his skin as you lowered yourself down onto him.

The stretch caused you both to moan, his head falling back against the headrest of his seat as you bounced down onto him, the sound of your moans accompanied by skin meeting skin filling the night air. You could feel your arousal coating your inner thighs, practically dripping down his cock onto his thighs as you rutted against him.

“F-uck.” He grunted out, lips parted as his hands grasped at your hips, feet planted against the floorboard of the car as he thrusted up into you. “So fuckin’ good, doll. Fuck-“

As you rode him his right hand moved between your legs, thumb circling your clit, your skin soaked with your arousal. He watched as you bounced on his cock, utterly entrapped by the sight of his cock disappearing within you, a white sheen of your cum coating his cock, dripping down the base and onto his thighs.

The feeling of his thumb circling your clit coupled with his cock hitting deep within you left you whining, tears of pleasure flooding your eyes as you let your head fall back, quickly feeling his other hand threading his fingers through your hair, harshly grasping at the base of the threads as he began roughly fucking himself up into you.

You practically went limp, moans forced from your chest with each brutal thrust of his hips, arms dangling at your sides as you let him use you. You could feel your orgasm building at a fever pitch in your lower stomach, causing your moans to pitch up an octave as he fucked you.

“Yeah? Gonna cum on my cock, doll?” He grunted out, voice strained and hoarse as he let go of your hair, hand then moving to your jaw as he pulled you down for a needy kiss. He bit at your bottom lip, tongue slipping into your mouth as he rolled his hips up into you, to which you tried your best to match his tempo.

All you could do was nod, cumming with a broken cry of his name as his thumb steadily worked at your clit. The pleasure quickly turned into overstimulation, causing you to whine into the kiss as your hips stuttered in their movement, cunt squeezing around his cock. He didn’t pull away from the kiss, instead grunting into it as he continued rutting up into you, flooding your cunt full of his cum.

He slowed his movements as his cock twitched inside of you, hands still guiding your hips against him, slow and steady rolls of your hips milking him dry. He pulled away from the kiss, lips a rosy hue as he looked up at you, eyes blown with desire. You felt his breath against your face, his hands soon moving up to cup your jaw as he leaned up to press a shaky kiss to your lips.

“I love you.” He murmured, thumb brushing against the soft skin of your cheek. “I love you.”

You smiled into the kiss, a quiet laugh passing your lips as you pressed a plethora of kisses to his lips, cheek, and jaw. The action pulled a laugh from him, his eyes fluttering shut as he brushed his fingers along your spine.

“I love you too, Dal.” You responded, burying your face into the crook of his neck as you both caught your breath.

You both were sweaty, sticky, and thoroughly coated in cum along your thighs. But you wouldn’t have had it any other way, besides, it was completely like Dallas to admit his feelings for you while still buried in your cunt.

“Think we stained the seats.” Dallas grumbled out through a laugh, the comment causing you to laugh as well, neither of you making a move to move away from each other. “Fuck it.”

A/N: So sorry for the length of this, or am I? I thoroughly enjoyed writing this, went through a lot of revisions, but I’m happy with the end product. You can catch all of my work over on my ao3 under the username “Unscriptural.” Thank you guys again for reading or skimming through, whatever ‘ya did I’m thankful for the interaction!

[thezombieprostitute]

Dragonfly

Summary: Steve has just about everything he could ever want in life. He's got you, a baby on the way, and a successful Family. No one would dare interfere with that. Right?

A/N: Reader is female, pregnant. No other descriptors used.

Warnings: Death threats, Implied violence, Pregnancy. Please let me know if I missed any!

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Steve was feeling on top of the world. He had you, the most beautiful, amazing wife in the world and soon enough you’d both have a son. He was definitely in higher spirits than usual for hosting a political fundraiser. 

He spotted you coming back from the bathroom. One of the sacrifices he had to make was that he couldn’t actually be at your side as often because of the frequent bathroom breaks you needed to make. One of the things neither of you thought about when planning for the pregnancy. But it was a worthy sacrifice. He quickly took his leave of his current discussion and went straight for you. 

Every day of your relationship Steve had made sure to tell you how beautiful you are to him. As you see him walking towards you, his face projecting nothing but love, you’re grateful. Pregnancy was already taking its toll on your body and you were regularly feeling less than attractive. But the fact that Steve’s loving expression never changed towards you really helped.

His protectiveness had also amped up considerably but that was understandable given his actual work. Ever since you started showing he also became a lot more possessive. Someone shakes your hand and Steve has to fight the urge to punch them for touching you. It’s taken some time but he’s learned to save it all for when the two of you get home and he can fuck your brains out. Possessive sex with Steve was so much fun you almost went out of your way to make sure to greet the men who insisted on kissing your hand. Steve had caught on, though, and would run interference as much as he could, giving you a look that promised some kind of funishment.

As soon as you were within reach he wrapped his arm around your waist and brought you in for a kiss.

“Missed you,” he sighed.

“I was gone for two minutes,” you laugh quietly.

“And?”

“And I love you too,” you grin before kissing him. 

Now that your back at his side Steve can focus. There’s more planned idle chatter about upcoming bills and tax reforms. Boring as usual, but necessary for your community. You take pride in knowing how much Steve and his Family put into helping people. 

Steve notices some of his security team moving quickly and he instinctively brings you in closer. He trusts Bucky to handle whatever it is, but he’s ready to move you out of harm’s way at a moment’s notice. 

The talking continues for a few more minutes when Bucky approaches, giving Steve the silent signal that it was urgent. Excusing the two of you from the discussion, Steve walks with you to Bucky. 

“We’re getting you out of here,” Bucky says before turning and walking towards the exit in the back. Steve gently pushes you to follow and you do so. You focus on keeping pace with Bucky and don’t notice how alert Steve is. Even after your usual security guards take their places around you, he keeps looking around for danger.

It isn’t until you’re in the car and see Bucky take the driver’s seat that you realize how serious the situation is. 

As the car gets to moving Bucky starts talking, “we found a hitman in the upper levels of the place. Had a small smoke bomb and a sniper.”

“How’d he get that past security?” Steve’s voice is tight with anger.

“He camped out,” Bucky explained. “Some time between our initial sweep yesterday and the party starting he set himself up. He got found by a couple of our guys doing a patrol. He wasn’t able to clock how much time between patrols,” Bucky’s voice tinged with pride on that last part. He’d been a proponent of patrolling at irregular intervals to throw off would-be threats. 

“So why are we heading out,” you ask. “You secured the threat, right?”

Bucky sighs, looking at Steve in the rear-view mirror. “Yeah, but then we found the contract. It’s an open contract, with an incredibly high price tag.”

Steve sighed, “any idea who wants me dead this time?”

“It wasn’t for you,” Bucky tells him. “It was for her.” Steve’s blood runs cold as you gasp at the news. “That’s why we’re getting her out of sight. Knew you’d want to come along so I brought both of you.” Bucky looks at you in the rear-view mirror. “We’re going to find whoever put out the contract but it’s gonna take time. During that time you’re in significant danger. I’m gonna advise you stay inside, away from windows. Open windows, at least.”

You’re barely registering what he’s saying. The hit was for you. The thought makes you weak and nauseated. Staying inside definitely sounds like a good idea. You feel Steve’s arm pull you even closer to him. He’s silent, a signal as to how furious he is. 

Once you're inside the safety of Steve’s home you relax a little. This is familiar. This is secure. You rub your belly, trying to calm yourself. Normally Steve would go to his office with Bucky to discuss business but since it involves you, they sit you down in Steve’s comfiest office chair before talking.

“What intel do we have,” Steve asks, pacing the room.

“Garbage Men are getting with GBH to see if he can get them more info,” Bucky replies. “Until then, all we know is the hit is out for Mrs. Steve Rogers and the reward is almost 7 figures.”

“We’re most likely dealing with someone who wants to hit me where it hurts,” Steve reasons. “Who’ve I pissed off that’s got this kind of money?”

“Too many to really help us,” Bucky retorts. “I’ve got some of my men asking their contacts with the other families, confirming who would and who wouldn’t kill a pregnant woman just to hurt you.”

His comments have you crying. If the stress of knowing you were in danger wasn’t enough, the pregnancy hormones made everything worse. Steve is immediately at your side, holding you while Bucky brings over a box of tissues. They hold off their conversation until you’ve calmed down and caught your breath. 

“I’m so sorry, Hummingbird,” Steve gently tells you. 

“It’s not your fault,” you assure. “It’s whoever put out that contract.”

Bucky’s phone beeps with a notification and he checks it. “Well, GBH was able to provide the name that issued the contract but I don’t think it’ll help us.”

“Fake name,” Steve growls.

“Yup,” Bucky confirms. “Dragonfly.”

Part 2

Series Masterlist

Tags are based on the Hummingbird Series. Please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed!

@alicedopey; @aryhyuuga; @cynic-spirit; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jamneuromain; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @ktficworld; @leryg0; @rayofdawnworld; @rebekahdawkins; @texmexdarling

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Can't resist a castle house, especially one with stone walls. This one, built in 1905, in Gladwyne, PA, has 6bds, 8ba, and is listed for $7.95M.

Interesting entrance. It's open, but it's got a regular ceiling with beams, just like inside. The snow must blow in here, in the winter.

This is one of several entrances.

Very nice architectural details. This doorway opens to the sitting room.

Beautiful wood, fireplace, and nice wide stairs to the mezzanine. Kind of odd, that there's only one door up there, though.

The dining room has stone walls and a gorgeous window.

Stunning kitchen has an open-concept family room with 2 stairways going up to the upper levels. Beautiful wood details, backsplashes and counters.

The family room has a beautiful fireplace.

Here's an everyday dining nook with a large china cabinet.

Beautiful wine room- I prefer a main floor wine room so I can access it easier that going down to the cellar, if you know what I mean.

Any host would be proud to have guests use this gorgeous powder room.

Oh, what a delightful room. Love the shelving, wainscoting and window seat. This is beautiful.

Luckily, you're wealthy enough to have someone to clean that beautiful latticework in the en-suite.

Another stunning bath.

The primary bedroom has a sitting area and a grand canopy at the head of the bed.

And, it has the larges en-suite with a marble shower.

The former stables are now a guest house.

It has a nice apt., which I would make a long-term rental.

The 2.83 acre property has patios, but no pool area. Of course, there's plenty of space to put one in.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/56-Crosby-Brown-Rd-Gladwyne-PA-19035/9954995_zpid/

[rizsu]

validation gojo satoru.

sum. after learning through a couple dates that you have a three-year-old daughter, gojo's now found himself doing anything to make her like him. even if he hates it.

gojo doesn't know what he's doing. pet shops aren't his thing — scratch that — dogs aren't his thing. he hates the way they fur up every single furniture but deep down, gojo's simply afraid of them.

due to his nature of wanting the upper hand on a daily basis, he's found himself standing in-line along with a caged puppy. the reason? he wants to impress the three-year-old girl by getting her what she always wanted. not needed, but wanted.

in addition to proving his love for her mother, he also must prove that he can be a perfect step-father. he'll do whatever it takes to make his ( unofficial ) woman and her mini-version happy. but.. it seems like there's only one person happy about this.

"this cannot possibly be hers, right...?" you questioned, standing at the door. there's a worried glint on your face.

"it's certainly not mines," he starts, lifting the cage with one hand, "and it's not yours."

you both stand in silence. one man gifts an immature grin as the other fights away the urge to close the door. you know it's hers but you really wish it wasn't. gojo doesn't hesitate to spend money and it isn't a problem. the only problem is that you're afraid of him spoiling her to the core. a puppy was something she only wanted — it's not a necessity. maybe it won't hurt to see her excited about it.

"are you gonna let me in?" gojo asks, breaking you from your thoughts.

"should i?"

"i think that's an exquisite idea."

rolling your eyes, you moved two steps back. gojo enters and immediately looks around for the star of the day. her absence makes him question you, "is she asleep?"

you shaked your head "no," making a bee line to the pantry. scattering around its contents to offer him a light snack, you spoke, "she's cosplaying as a chef in her so called kitchen."

gojo accepts the snack, muttering a "thanks," before looking at you with eyes that spoke his mind.

sighing, you made your way to her playroom. "i'll get her. you hide the dog."

"excuse you, it's a puppy!" gojo corrected.

"same thing!"

after a couple minutes and two snacks later, you re-entered the living room with a vibrant toddler settled on your hip. she's hosting a mini chef hat on her head along with a matching apron and plastic spatula. upon laying her eyes on gojo, she whispers, "mommy, it's jojo!"

"it's gojo, baby," you corrected her, smiling at the mispronounciation.

gojo's senses notifies him about your presence, ripping him away from inspecting the random paintings decorating your walls. he turns around with a smile, walking to capture the little girl in his arms. "well hello, mini-chef."

"jojo!" she exclaims, reaching her arms out for him.

"i got you a surprise~" he teased, placing her down to retrieve the puppy.

she looks at him with furrowed eyebrows, head tilted with confusion and excitement. her two pigtails swing as she turned to you asking, "mommy, do you know?"

sitting on the couch, you pinched her cheek, lying to her in order to keep the surprise, "mommy has no clue."

gojo doesn't return with the cage but he does return with a blanket-wrapped puppy that's facing him. he makes his way to you both, kneeling down to her level as he instructs, "i'm gonna hand you something, you must hold it carefully, okay?"

she nods three times, expression utterly serious at the new quest.

handing over the puppy to her, she gasps at the sight. face lit with overjoy and sparkles. "it's a lil' doggy!!"

she switches her gaze between you, gojo, and the puppy. too overjoyed to form any sentence. gojo feels proud — there's a tiny feeling swelling in him. the sight of her being excited over his gift has him wanting to buy her the world. he pats her head, looking over at you whose eyes are stuck on your daughter. a motherly smile adorned on your face. a smile that made gojo fan-boy in his head.

"thank you, satoru," you whispered to him, not wanting to disturb your daughter and her new-found friend.

"anything for the two of you," he whispers back, leaning his head on your knee as he entertains himself watching your daughter squatting down to gently pat the puppy.

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Platonic!Brother!Coriolanus Snow x Sister!Reader

Coriolanus was always overprotective when it came to you, his baby sister. Maybe it was because you barely survived your birth, the birth that killed your mother, or maybe it was because he was the ‘man’ of the house. But whatever the reason, he was an overprotective big brother.

It was cute when you were little kids, but by time you became a teenager and he was a young adult, well, it wasn't cute anymore. It was straight up annoying.

You're in your last year at the Academy and you feel so suffocated. You had nobody, but your older brother. Your cousin, Tigris, after a falling out with Coriolanus, moved out years ago. And Grandma'am, poor Grandma’am, was in a memory center due to her ailing condition.

It hurts, having nobody, but Coriolanus to interact with.

Hell, you didn't even have a boyfriend. But that was because nobody in their right mind at the Academy was brave enough to approach you considering who your brother was.

Head Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow.

Senator Coriolanus Snow.

Aspiring Presidential Hopeful Coriolanus Snow.

A dangerous man.

Coriolanus Snow.

You're sure you're going to die a virgin and all alone, all because your brother’s so over protective of you.

Since you don't have a father, he feels the need to be your father figure. Be the man of the house. Yada yada yada.

So, one day when you came home from the Academy sulking and dragging your satchel alone the floor, Coryo took it up on himself and an overprotective brother to find out why you were upset.

He needed to know who to kill for hurting your feelings.

“What happened today at the Academy to have you sulking like a black rain cloud’s hanging over your head.” Coriolanus asked from his sitting chair while watching some political network on the tv.

“An announcement for a gala.” You sighed, going over to a side table to set your bag down.

“Why should that make you upset? The Academy holds galas every few months for upper classmen. I myself used to go to them.”

Yea, you remember how he'd run around the house like a chicken with its head cut off looking for whatever Tigris made for him to wear. He had to have his gala outfits look amazing even if they were made from black market fabrics Tigris did the unthinkable for. Your brother always had to dress to impress at galas since he used them to network.

Hell, he still networks at galas, balls, and events. It's just on a different level now.

“It's not the gala that's got me upset." You told him as you made your way over to the sitting chairs. Sitting down next to him, you explained, "It's the fact that I'm going to be the only girl without a date for it that's got me upset.”

“You don't need a date to attend the gala, dear.” Coriolanus reminded you, his eyes glued to the political talk show host on the TV screen. Hmm...they must be talking about the upcoming election.

“But-” you began, only for your brother to cut you off with, “No buts, young lady.” Giving you a stern look, he receited the same speech he always gave when the subject of dating came up. “You’re not ready to date yet. The boys your age will only corrupt you and we can't have you being corrupted; dragging the Snow name through the mud.”

His remark made you wonder how many nice girls he corrupted since he was so certain that you'd be corrupted.

“I'll make you a suitable match when you're of age.” Coriolanus told you before turning the volume up on the TV when the program host mentioned his name and polling numbers.

Oh, you just couldn't wait to see who he'd set you up with. Considering he's such a cold man, you doubt it'd be anyone you'd get along with. You doubt that what he views as a good match for you is what you'd view as a good match.

You're polar opposites.

Truth be told, you barely tolerate your older brother these days. He never laughs or smiles, he's just obsessed with power and politics.

And money.

“Maybe you could find me a date for the gala? Somebody suitable to take me?” You suggested as a desperate attempt for him to let you go to the gala with a boy your age.

“Yea, I'll find you a date.” Coriolanus nodded, his attention more so on the TV then on you. Guess his political ambitions mean more to him than you do at the moment.

When your Coriolanus said he'd find you somebody suitable to take you to the gala, you never thought that he was talking about himself. But here you were, dressed in something suitable for a nun, since Coriolanus is strict about you showing too much skin, wearing short skirts, etc. Of course, you're stuck being chaperoned by your overprotective older brother.

Why would he let you have a real date for the gala?

He's too obsessed with you to let you out of his site. Now more than ever you hate how overprotective the presidential hopeful is with you.

You could feel everyone staring at you. God, you felt so weird being stuck on your brother's arm.

“Who’s that?” Coriolanus asked, pointing to a raven haired girl in a wine red dress, that was sipping on a flute of posca, while talking to a one of the cutest boys at the Academy.

“That's General Prometheus Byzantine's step-daughter. Her names Juniper, but she goes by June.” You answered, hoping that he wasn't asking because he was interested in her.

She's your classmate for Christ's sake!

“She's 18?” Coriolanus asked, tipping you off that he was, indeed, interested in her.

“Yes, she's 18.” You confirmed with a nod.

Coriolanus nodded, only to tell you, “Go hang by the wall and don't talk to anyone. I'm going to introduce myself to Miss Byzantine.”

You shook your head, watching your brother take off to go flirt with one of your classmates. You didn't think it was fair that he could do whatever he wanted, but you had to toe the line.

It was complete and utter bullshit.

You didn't care about his political ambitions or riches, you just wanted a normal life.

Sometimes you wish that he never got that early discharge from President Ravenstill. You were free when he was a peacekeeper in 12. Now you're shackled and chained to him. You're at his mercy because he's so obsessed with protecting you.

At least for that summer he was away in District 12 you were able to have friends. Now, you had nobody, but yourself.

Knowing you didn't have much of a choice, you went over to the wall and blended into it. Watching your brother charm the raven haired girl in your math, history, and literature classes.

Maybe him charming General Byzantine’s step-daughter was a blessing in disguise. Maybe if Coriolanus is too busy trying to woo and court somebody, he won't be able to be an overprotective big brother anymore.

And maybe, just maybe, that was just wishful thinking on your part.

Ever since General Crassus Snow died, Coriolanus took it upon himself to be the man of the house. To protect you.

And over time that mission became his number one obsession.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis , @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord , @erikasurfer , @tulips2715 , @universal-s1ut , @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans , @sudek4l , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 , @shari-berri , @aoi-targaryen , @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1 , @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

[mindblowingscience]

The extraction of the Earth's natural resources tripled in the past five decades, related to the massive build-up of infrastructure in many parts of the world and the high levels of material consumption, especially in upper-middle and high-income countries. Material extraction is expected to rise by 60% by 2060 and could derail efforts to achieve not only global climate, biodiversity, and pollution targets but also economic prosperity and human well-being, according to a report published today by the UN Environment Program (UNEP)-hosted International Resource Panel.

Continue Reading.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello hello! Long time follower!

I really like reading all your translations, theories and fanfics! It's really great to be able to read your thoughts about characters and cards because am a f2p so I have a very limited stash of gems to pull lol

So I was thinking about the rrcent jp update and I went back to read some of your work on Scarabia. I'll admit they weren't amongst my favorites before so I haven't paid too much attention to them. I was wondering then about the couple times you've said Jamil is well off? Maybe it's from one of his SSR cards of his home event, but I can't remember where he or maybe Kalim implies that?

That's it, just a silly question thanks so much for all that you do, I love so much all your theories and thoughts about the lore and the cast! Have a good day!

Hdsbskwhsk I’m glad that my blog brings you joy and makes your free to play experience more fun 🤩 Thanks for sticking with me all this time!

As for your question, I’m not actually sure if there's dialogue which explicitly states the Viper family's level of wealth. I couldn't find any when I combed through, so I had to go off of implications and my own interpretations of those. From what I’ve gathered, I see the Vipers as upper middle class, or at least middle class with a LOT of benefits (the benefits being present boost them to upper middle class due to the lifestyle the benefits afford them).

So firstly, I think there's a lot of debate surrounding Jamil's family income. Some fans seem to think that the Vipers must be destitute due to their position as servants and Jamil's disdain for how the Asims throw around their money and influence. However, perceived social status or class does NOT always equate to being low income. There are people irl who are technically "servants" and "hired help" that make a significant salary while working for much wealthier individuals. There is data for bodyguards, private chefs, executive assistants, and skilled nannies who earn six-figure incomes and/or excellent benefits working for celebrities, politicians, businessmen, etc. (Notably, guarding, cooking, scheduling/planning, and generally looking after Kalim are all a part of Jamil's duties.) Real world examples of this include employees of the White House and the British royal family.

Now, that all depends a lot on the type of people the employers are. There are many wealthy families who mistreat their staff and/or don't pay them well. From what I've seen of the Asims though, I definitely feel that this is not the case. To begin with, the Vipers don't just do one task for the Asims, they do a LOT. You're already aware of the constant work Jamil has to do around the clock to keep Kalim safe and satisfied, but his parents must do the same. They're described as experts in hospitality and are frequently hosting and entertaining guests from all over Twisted Wonderland. This is skilled labor, and that demands commiserate pay. Not only that, but Kalim describes his father as someone who is very generous (and the guy has plenty of money to spare). I don’t see why Mr. Asim would purposefully skimp on specifically paying the Vipers.

I would also imagine that the Vipers are afforded other benefits. Jamil has said many times that he has to look or act a certain way, as his behavior/appearance reflects on the family he serves. Therefore, the Asims may provide other things Jamil and the Vipers need to “look good” and to best represent and serve the Asims. This could mean food, clothes, transportation/travel expenses, education (like additional training, manners lessons, certification exams, etc.) all paid for on the Asim family’s coin. Jamil has mentioned that his parents gave him lessons in everything he’d need to know in order to serve Kalim, so this tells his parents are also well-educated and/or were at least able to pay for lessons for Jamil. And these lessons aren’t “normal” lessons either, it includes things like formal bodyguard training (you’d have to pay for this irl) and formal table manners (which most of us aren’t taught unless we seek it out).

We also recently learned in book 7 that the Vipers live on Asim property, which is very luxurious. Jamil states that his family would be on the streets should they lose their place serving the Asims—and this could be interpreted in a very literal sense if we think of as losing the roof over their heads. Yes, it's technically not land or housing that the Vipers own, but it is still free high-class lodging, nonetheless. It is a benefit that is afford to them (among others) because of their job(s), similar to those real life examples I mentioned before. One could make the argument that none of this wealth truly belongs to the Vipers. However, you could also argue that because these benefits come with the job, it technically is theirs as long as they keep their job (which is, in fact, how jobs irl work; if you stop working for an employer then naturally you’ll stop getting the benefits that come with that job eventually). It’s complicated. I suspect that, at the very least, part of the reason why the Vipers don’t want to depart from serving the Asims is because they don’t want to lose the pay and the perks that come with their work.

I want to add that the Vipers’ position also gives them the unique advantage of exposing them to tons of important individuals. They are able to meet and connect with these VIPs when most people could never even dream of meeting them, even if just from the viewpoint of a servant. It’s a similar to Lilia and Silver, who technically are not rich (money-wise) but still have ties with majorly influential people (members of the Draconia royal family).

Obviously, the Vipers still aren’t as rich as the Asims and probably will never be, but I believe they still enjoy a comfortable lifestyle. We never see Jamil worry about money or being short of it. He gives his VDC/SDC earnings away without batting an eye, unlike Deuce (from a single-parent income family) who keeps the money since it would really help out his mom. He doesn’t have to work a ton of odd jobs to make ends meet (unlike Ruggie). But Jamil does haggle and act frugal. I think that behavior comes from not a genuine need but Jamil being mindful and planning ahead to avoid being scammed. He’s shown to be a cautious individual who often is the one putting the breaks on Kalim’s extravagance, so I feel the skill also comes partly from having to be the one to curb his ridiculous spending and bring Kalim down to earth. Jamil is still the type of person who would tell Kalim when he’s buying too much or overdoing things, even when it’s not Jamil’s own money being spent and he knows Kalim can afford it. That’s what leads me to believe his frugalness isn’t necessarily the result of him being low income and “needing” to save. If that were the case, he shouldn’t care if Kalim throws his own money at buying diamond jewelry for all the dorm members as souvenirs.

I think the closest metric we have as a frame of reference for how wealthy Jamil is comes from the Tapis Rouge event. In it, Jamil forks out 500 thaumarks (or 50000 madol) to buy a jacket. He remarks that the price is fairly expensive but good quality so it’s worth it. Whether you consider this an indicator of his low or high wealth is really all relative to what your own perception is. Jamil had also previously remarked that what the Mostro Lounge charges is absurd. In Ruggie’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, Azul quotes the price of one soft drink as 4 thaumarks/400 madol. Jamil responds with “Four? Talk about a markup.” It should be noted that the latter example doesn’t mean Jamil cannot afford a drink of that price; he’s complaining about how expensive Azul has made it to capitalize on the high demand. Do with this knowledge what you will.

Anyway, those are my thoughts! I hope I was able to explain myself well. If you have any thoughts, please feel free to express them ^^

[misseviehyde]

HAIR-SPRAY

Being a smart person meant you could usually figure out a solution to any problem.

For instance, Clara and her friends had worked out how to create an allergenic hair-spray to force their bullies hairasite to split from her head.

In aersol form - it was the only substance yet found that could force a hairasite to split from a host and one blast was enough to divide the symbiotic relationship.

Hairasites were living creatures that attached themselves to a hosts head and transformed them into an evil bitch. The process began when you placed it on your head and by all accounts was highly pleasurable. The hairasite would merge and begin to corrupt you at once, altering your very DNA and causing chromonsonal and hormonal changes that could only be reversed by removing it.

Your brain chemistry would alter so that doing naughty and bad things would make you feel good. The hairasite would enhance your ego and warp you into a cruel mean bully who always got what she wanted. It would make you want to be a bratty bitch and fuel an obsession for sex, power and money.

Super hormones would pump round your body making you more feminine, more beautiful. Cheek bones would rise, breasts would grow, asses would inflate. The hairasite would turn you into the idealised form of toxic femininity. You would become a hot smirking bitch with a tight pussy and an impossible level of beauty and charisma, making others want to serve you.

Removing a hairasite was almost impossible and the longer it was attached, the more it and it's host became as one. That was why the hair-spray was so amazing. One short blast of the allergens caused the living hairasite to detach and fall off, harmlessly neutralising it and the host it was using.

A few days ago Clara and her friends had tried the spray and overnight they had stripped the bully of her power, turning her back into a normal girl and removing her hairasite.

Her friends had wanted to burn the evil creature, especially her bestie Josie, (who had been bullied the most) but Clara had convinced them to place the hairasite in a container for further study.

Now it sat in a glass jar on her desk as she examined a single strand of it and tried to work out how to make the allergens even more effective. She assumed the strand was dead - separated from the main clump of hairasite.

Holding the wisp of hair up using tweezers to get a better view of it, Clara was suddenly shocked and surprised when it burst into sudden life and breaking free of her tweezers leapt and rooted into her own scalp.

For a moment she was terrified, but then she took a deep breath. Not to panic. It was only a single strand of hairasite and she could remove it with the spray. She reached for the can.

But wait...

Wasn't this a perfect opportunity to safely find out how the hairasite bonding process worked and develop a better response? After all one strand couldn't hurt her right?

A warm pleasurable feeling was coming from her head. She felt delicious and wondered what the hairasite was doing to her brain chemistry.

She felt... she felt... horny. Mmmmh, maybe she should remove the strand? She hadn't expected it to work so fast. Her hand tightened on the can of allergens.

But now she was feeling something else. She was feeling arrogant. Her lips twisted into a smirking smile as a delicious feeling of superiority filled her. This was a new feeling and she should be cautious and yet...

Didn't she have a right to be arrogant? She was the one who had had the idea to create the aersol and she was the one who had been brave enough to use it. Hairasites held no fear for her. She was the Mistress here and this creature would never gain the upper hand on her.

In fact, she could probably control the power of a hairasite better than anyone else. She bet even if she attached the whole thing she could use it's power for good and stop herself being corrupted.

Of course she'd have to let it make SOME changes to her, but she was sure her willpower would be up to the task. It would be foolish not to take some advantages from wearing a hairasite. Imagine what she could let it do to her plain nerdy body?

Clara imagined what it would be like to be beautiful and sexy. She had always envied their bullies hot body and how popular she was. It didn't seem fair that nerds and smart girls like her should be treated as lesser than bitches like the bullies.

She imagined being slimmer, sexier, perkier with bigger boobs and a gorgeous face. She imagined being able to wear fashionable clothes and show off her skin. Mmmh she could even start talking in a slutty bratty voice like their bully used to.

She imagined having the confidence to get her nails done at the expensive nail bar in town, and go out on dates with the hot boys she'd always fantasized about. THEY'D be the ones queuing up to date HER.

Didn't she deserve to be beautiful and hot? If one strand of the hairasite could make her feel this good, imagine what the whole thing could do?

And after all, she could always remove it if it started to turn her evil. She had the hair spray and the hairasite knew it. Perhaps she could train and control the hairasite? Train it like a pet. Take all the positive effects and remove the negatives.

If anyone could do it, it would be her. She deserved this opportunity.

Dropping the can, Clara stood up. Her panties were drenched and her body was throbbing with lust. She knew what she needed to do. Picking up the glass container she unscrewed the top and reached carefully inside.

The hairasite coiled lovingly around her arm. It was so soft and sexy. She giggled and watched fondly as it flowed up her arm and she smile became euphoric. Yesssss this was her destiny.

"Ohhhhh fuckkkk yesssss," she hissed as she felt it reach her head and leap into her hair.

A soft brunette plume of hair now hung from her head; silky and rich. The feeling of the hairasite was intoxicating. She shivered in pleasure. One strand had felt good, but this was fucking orgasmic.

"Yessss change me... come on... give it to me."

Clara moaned as she felt hormones surge round her body and the hairasite eagerly bonding with it's new host. She gasped as her bones popped and cracked and her frumpy nerd body straighened up and grew slimmer.

Her skin tanned and her flat boyish chest pushed out into perky cheerleader C-Cups. Her legs became longer and her face prettier as beautiful bitchy eyes with long lashes fluttered in pleasure and her new mean mouth curved into a true bitchy smile of bratty confidence.

"Mmmh like yeahhhh, this is soooo much better than like being a nerd."

Stretching her body, Clara admired how tanned and flexible she now was. The hairasite swayed with her motions, part of her head now. She looked fucking amazing. She looked like a bully.

Mmmmh, that was hot. Being a bully was so fucking great.

Clara laughed as she remembered how she had convinced herself she would use the hair spray if the hairasite turned her evil. Why would she do that? Being bad felt goooood. Her tight new pussy was already wet at the thought of being the centre of attention and bullying her former friends. That bitch Josie in particular had it coming. She had always been envious of Clara.

"Yessss make me a fucking bitch. Rewire my brain to make me really nasty, I LOVE this," giggled Clara. She stroked her hairasite lovingly. "Mmmh, you and I are going to make such a great team."

Her eyes fell onto the aerosol can and her bitchy mouth twitched in amusement. "Ohhh and don't worry about that, I have an idea."

*****

"Why isn't it working?" screamed Josie in horror as she blasted Clara's hair again with a concentrated dose of the aerosol and the evil bitch just smirked at her.

"Oh Josie, you fucking dumb loser. You have heard of antihistamines right? I just made a new hairspray that gives my hairasite complete immunity to that stupid spray. Ughhh it does itch a little though and it's making my beautiful hairasite all dry, so now I'm really fucking pissed off."

Clicking her fingers, Clara smirked as her former bullies friends... now her loyal clique of bitches closed ranks around her. "Girls grab her and hold her still. This little bitch tried to hurt my beautiful hairasite."

"Nooo Clara please. That thing is evil, this isn't you."

"Ohhhh this IS me loser. You have no idea how fucking good this feels. Now then..."

Reaching into her handbag Clara laughed evilly as she pulled out a pair of hair clippers and switched them to life.

"Right thenJosie... lets see what you look like without YOUR hair. You're gonna be such a laughing stock by the time I'm done."

And as Clara advanced on her helpless victim, she and the hairasite were now as one and it felt so fucking good.

[thewhumpcaretaker]

⚜ 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓭 𝓞𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓜𝓮 ⚜

A/B/O One-Shot | Omega Vincent x Alpha John | Image Source

Summary: John is at a party in France on assignment and meets Vincent by chance. He realizes Vincent is hiding his omega status...and he's on the verge of death from an uncontrollable heat.

Mechanics of Heat in this AU: An omega can ride out a heat without doing anything as long as they’re taking blockers. This is normally a safe (if uncomfortable) option. BUT, if the blockers don’t work and it becomes too severe, it can be fatal. If it’s getting dangerous, the omega will experience hyperthermia followed by stroke. This can only be handled by either going to a hospital or…you know.

CW: omegaverse smut, unprotected sex, fever symptoms, crying during sex (from joy), and idk how to TW this exactly but Vincent has a very poor understanding of consent and doesn’t know how to ask for what he wants directly. John is careful with him anyway.

It wasn’t the worst kind of job. The worst kind of job was a job where you loved the target, and John didn’t even know the target. It was just some French woman who had double crossed Viggo. No, this was the second worst kind of job: the kind where John had to see High Table emissaries directly.

Of course, if all went well, they’d never see him. And so far, it was going well. The target was attending a victory celebration hosted in some historical estate. John had slipped in through a back entrance unseen, made his way upstairs like the shadow of death, and silently strangled her while she was refreshing her makeup. He dragged the body into a disused guest bedroom where it wouldn’t be found for hours. Not a word fell from his lips in all that time.

But still, it made him uneasy, to look down from the shadows over the banister and see the guests milling around below him, to the faint sounds of a live quartet and the scents of rich foods. That they could look so human after ordering the sort of acts that he himself had just committed…it was confusing.

Having had quite enough of that glance, he slipped out the doors to an upper balcony, prepared to scale the wall down to the gardens and make a tidy exit. It was normally locked, and sure to be deserted. One of Viggo’s associates had obtained a key for him in advance.

But it was not deserted. Someone was there.

He was clearly one of the guests and probably an important, well-to-do one at that. He wore a long, ruffled tailcoat that glittered under the waxing moon and the dim, golden lamplights flanking the door. And he was very, very sick. John knew immediately. Even if he hadn’t been leaning against the railing with his head in his hands, his scent would have given it away immediately. Something powerfully sweet, definitely the sweetest he had ever smelled. Sweeter than the gourmet pastries wafting up from downstairs, mixed with something tart. It was dulled, yes, but the fact that it was dulled and yet still coming through told him that it was strong enough to break through blockers. A severe heat.

He held his breath, trying not to inhale, but he could already feel it clawing its way inside him, going straight to the brain. This was the last thing he needed to encounter. A distraction, at the final, critical moment. He should excuse himself, before the alarm could be raised. Try to exit a different way – maybe one of the windows. But the man’s head had already turned to him sharply, revealing brilliant, honeyed green pools that shone glassy above soaring cheekbones. John met them and felt his own pupils swell. Shit.

“Que peux-tu vouloir? [What can you possibly want?]” the stranger demanded, with enough venom in his voice to break John out of the reverie for half a second.

I was just trying to get some air. I apologize. I’ll go back inside. Anything, say anything… But John seemed incapable of any response except an inappropriate level of compassion. Sweat had plastered the man’s carefully slicked hair against his forehead and set his flushed cheeks shining. It was all he could do not to step towards him. Instead, he found himself asking stupidly, “Êtes-vous d'accord? [Are you okay?]”

The man blinked at him. “Avez-vous une idée de à qui vous parlez? [Do you have any idea who you’re talking to?]”

“Non,” he said simply. His eyes fell on the man’s ring…shimmering gold on white. The insignia of the High Table. Cold dread flooded over him, but the heat washed it away just as quickly.

“Je suis le Marquis Vincent de Gramont. [I am the Marquis Vincent de Gramont.]” John could tell that this was supposed to have an effect on him, so he inclined his head deeply. It must not have been convincing, because the Marquis looked even more annoyed and changed the subject. “Je pourrais vous demander ce que vous faites en vous promenant à l’extérieur de la salle de bal. Qui es-tu? [I might ask what you’re doing wandering outside the ballroom. Who are you?]”

I’m no one. Just getting some air. Just getting some air. Just getting – “John.” Damn it.

Those honeyed eyes narrowed in understanding. And wariness. “Vous n’êtes pas censé être ici, n’est-ce pas ? Bien. Sont-ils déjà morts? Ou est-ce… moi? [You’re not supposed to be here, are you? Well. Are they dead already? Or is it…me?]” The man’s hand moved very slightly, no doubt twitching towards a concealed weapon. But John wasn’t worried. This person’s reflexes were obviously too deadened to pose a threat.

“Mort. [Dead.]”

“Hmmm.” Casual, feigning disinterest. Why isn’t he calling the guards, John wondered from somewhere deep in the haze of pheromones. After a moment, he noticed that the nobleman’s hand was still gripping the railing, knuckles white. John realized that he couldn’t stand unsupported.

“Tu ne vas pas bien. Vous êtes en chaleur. Et c'est mauvais. [You’re not okay. You’re in heat. And it’s bad.]”

Those honeyed eyes flashed narrow. With grave dignity, “Comment oses-tu. Je suis un alpha. [How dare you. I am an alpha.]”

John nearly laughed. He stifled it but the man caught it anyway and glared.

“Je suis désolé. C'est juste que… tu ne peux pas prétendre ça. Sois prudent. Si vous retournez à l’intérieur… ils le sauront. [I’m sorry. It’s just…you’re beyond pretending that. Be careful. If you go back inside…they’ll know.]”

Fear passed over his features before hardening into anger. “Vas-y et menace-moi encore. Je pourrais utiliser le soulagement du stress aujourd'hui. [Go ahead and threaten me again. I could use the stress relief today.]”

“Ce n’est pas une menace. Je ne le dirai pas. [It’s not a threat. I won’t tell.]”

“Comme c'est généreux. Non, vous ne le ferez pas, je peux vous l'assurer. J'espère que vous avez apprécié votre petite intrusion car personne ne vit pour raconter ce que vous avez vu. [How generous. No, you won’t, I can assure you. I hope you enjoyed your little intrusion because no one lives to tell about what you’ve seen.]” With that, he whipped a knife out of a concealed pocket and lunged forward. It was an energetic movement, but uncoordinated and easy to sidestep. In this weakened state, Vincent’s muscles were practically nonfunctional. John caught his wrist on the way down and plucked the knife out of it easily with the other hand, leaving the Marquis twisted up beneath him and emitting a heart wrenching, inadvertent whine. Every touch must be painful with a mixture of desire and soreness right now.

And it was painful for John too. That skin, even softer than expected and dangerously hot, the closeness of that fragrant neck pouring something like strawberry from under the collar… John released his arm, allowing him to roll over onto his back, too weak to get back up. The urge to cradle him was so overwhelming that John stumbled back against the railing, their positions reversed. He faced the gardens and inhaled deeply, trying to clean Vincent out of his lungs and failing.

When he had collected himself, he pocketed the knife and surveyed the human puddle on the floor that had just tried to stab him. He’d opened his arms and closed his eyes, laying in a dramatic, spread eagle pose with the lamplight washing over him. Center stage and breathtaking. No, not breathtaking. Breathe, I can breathe. “D'accord. Essayons autre chose. Où est ton alpha? [Okay. Let’s try something else. Where’s your alpha?]”

Vincent’s eyes snapped open. “Je n'ai pas d'alpha. Pensez-vous, dans mon travail, qu'il est logique de dépendre de quelqu'un pour de telles… questions? Je gère. [I don’t HAVE an alpha. Do you think, in my line of work, that it makes sense to depend on someone for such…matters? I manage.]”

The opportunity screamed at him from the back of his mind until he had to actively talk himself down. Don’t say it. He doesn’t want an alpha. He doesn’t want you. Protect. Protect by staying away. John found himself backing even further away, now flattened into the dark corner where the railing met the wall. That was better anyway – if anyone passed the window, they couldn’t see him there. And they probably couldn’t see Vincent, lying down, unless they leaned right up to the windowsill. “...D'accord. Qu’utilisez-vous pour « gérer » ? Des bloqueurs? Avez-vous besoin de plus? [...Okay. What do you use to ‘manage’? Blockers? Do you need more?]”

A long moment passed. “Est-ce que tu… essaies-tu de m'aider? [Are you…are you trying to help me?]”

What was he trying to do, exactly? “Je ne peux pas te laisser ici. J'ai senti ta main. Vous êtes massivement en surchauffe. [I can’t just leave you here. I felt your hand. You’re massively overheated.]”

Vincent let out a small sound, somewhere between a scoff and a sigh. Whether it was relief or disbelief, John couldn’t tell. Finally, he started speaking, sounding utterly defeated. “Bloqueurs. Oui. Et ils ne fonctionnent pas. J'ai passé toute cette foutue chaleur en public, entouré d'alphas. Des jours maintenant… C’est hors de contrôle. [Blockers. Yes. And they’re not working. I’ve spent this entire damn heat in public, surrounded by alphas. Days now… It’s out of control.]”

“Vous devez aller à l'hôpital. [You need to go to a hospital.]”

“Ce n'est pas... ce n'est pas si grave... [It’s not…it’s not that bad…]” But with the way he immediately started shaking, John knew it was.

“Il le faut. [You have to.]”

“Je ne peux pas. Je ne peux pas sortir là-bas. Je vais mourir. Haha! Oh mon Dieu. Je vais mourir. [I can’t. I can’t walk out there. I’m going to die. Haha! Oh my god. I’m going to die.]” He didn’t seem to be talking to anyone, just sliding rapidly into hysteria.

“Hey. Non.” John’s voice had gone unnaturally gruff, even for him. It did its job and Vincent’s eyes snapped to him in obedience.

He looked away again, defying his own body, but the omega still won out in words. “Que dois-je faire? [What do I do?]”

Don’t say it. Don’t suggest ANYTHING. Be SENSIBLE. “Je pourrais… le réparer. [I could…fix it.]”

Vincent physically writhed at that thought, chest arching skyward. “NON. Va te faire foutre, non. Vous ne me tenterez PAS comme ça. [NO. Fuck you, no. You will NOT tempt me like that.]”

“D'accord, d'accord. Nous ne faisons pas ça. Je suis désolé. [Okay, okay. We’re not doing that. I’m sorry.]”

“ALORS QUE FAISONS-NOUS ? Tout ce que vous faites, c'est empirer les choses ! Tu sens le bordel fait de cuir, d'huile d'arme à feu et de viande et ARRRGGGH !! Tu es sale. Je déteste les alphas, je déteste les alphas, je déteste les alphas… [THEN WHAT ARE WE DOING? All you’re doing is making it worse! You smell like a brothel made of leather and gun oil and meat and ARRRGGGH!! You’re filthy. I hate alphas, I hate alphas, I hate alphas…]” It was an absolutely debauched display, to see this stunning nobleman in heat, writhing around on the ground, moved almost to tears of stifled lust.

No sight had ever made John want to DO something so badly in his life. “Allons juste vous rafraîchir. Enlève le manteau. [Let’s just get you cool. Take off the coat.]”

It must have been a very tempting proposition, because without arguing, he struggled to sit up and started working the coat free. But he only got onto his elbows before collapsing again in frustration. Now that pretty tailcoat was pulled down over one shoulder the way a bra strap might slip down, and to John, it was just as obscene an image as that, even though there was a soaked white dress shirt underneath, and a vest that hugged his waist...

Before he knew what he was doing, John had dropped to his knees above Vincent and was manhandling the coat off of him.

The Marquis laughed. “Alphas. Des créatures brutales et insensées. Je ne peux pas voir la détresse un seul instant sans me déchaîner. [Alphas. Brutish, mindless creatures. Can’t see distress for one instant without unleashing themselves.]” John lost composure and ripped off his vest, sending buttons clattering across the ground. “Vous voyez, aucun respect pour les belles choses de la vie. C'est un costume de qualité mais je suppose que vous ne distingueriez pas un lavalier d'un – [See, no respect for the finer things in life. This a quality suit but I suppose you wouldn’t know an ascot from a - ]”

“Arrêtez de parler. Je ne devrais même pas être ici. [Stop mouthing off. I shouldn’t even be here.]” He was working the ascot free now, and yes he did know exactly what it was. What was this guy’s problem? He was too defensive even for this embarrassing predicament. And it made him come off…vulnerable. A deep pang went through him from the pit of the neck to the stomach, longing for Vincent, and he didn’t know if it was his alpha or his soul. But he knew he liked it, in a vicious kind of way. Vincent was bringing something out of him…

“Pourquoi es-tu ici, hmm ? Tu veux tellement avoir le contrôle de quelque chose dans ta vie, petit tueur ?  « John », n'est-ce pas? [Why are you here, hmm? You want this badly to have control over something in your life, little killer?  “John,” was it?]” There was more behind that question. Confusion, at the presence of kindness.

This time he didn’t get a rise, or even an answer. John was unbuttoning his dress shirt carefully (because apparently that mattered even on the verge of death) and it took all of his attention. At the touch of the cool wind, Vincent exhaled in a mixture of gratitude and pain at the icy sting. And there he was, bare. Vincent’s skin was screaming at John by sheer sight and scent. He could see veins, collarbones…Breathe. In. Out.

“Je t'ai posé une question. Réponds-moi, alpha. Pourquoi? [I asked you a question. Answer me, alpha. Why?]”

No more buttons. Nothing to think about. Only the desperate urge to touch. John folded his hands behind his back and let his body ache deliciously, from the weight between his thighs outward. “Je voulais aider. Tu as regardé… [I wanted to help. You looked…]”

“J'ai regardé quoi? [Looked what?]”

“Précieux. Doux. Adorable. [Precious. Soft. Adorable.]” It was the wrong answer and he knew it, but he was too brain fogged looking at Vincent. It felt like being in a trance.

He blushed even more brilliantly beneath the wracking fever, and all tenderness faded from his voice. “Faible, tu veux dire. Vous avez ressenti l'appel à me contrôler. J'avais donc raison à propos de toi. [Weak, you mean. You felt the call to control me. So I was right about you.]”

“Non... ce n'est pas le cas... [No…that’s not…]” Desperate to prove his respect, he forced his legs to unbend, to start rising. Get away from him. He doesn’t want you.

Vincent’s hand caught his on the way up. “Où vas-tu? [Where are you going?]” There was terror just below the surface.

“Donner de l'espace. Je serai toujours là. [Giving space. I’ll still be here.]” Vincent’s hand slipped away and let him fade back into the shadows, where he watched in silence.

It must have been an agonizing parting for both of them. He knew it hurt, physically, to feel an alpha slip away while in heat. The omegas he’d been with had talked about a terrible, clingy loneliness, a need to be held that left every muscle aching. God, he wanted to hold Vincent. What a confusing situation.

Quietly, “Merci.”

“Bien sûr. [Of course.]” Minutes began to pass. He watched chills run through Vincent, watched him struggle to get comfortable on the hard ground and eventually hug his discarded coat against his chest, willing to take anything resembling the softness of a nest.

“Mettez-le sous vous. Pas à cause de toi. Ou vous surchaufferez davantage. [Put it under you. Not over you. Or you’ll overheat more.]”

Another irritable whine. Finally, he did. But he still couldn’t get comfortable. “Quand est-ce que cela va s’arrêter? [When will this stop?]”

“…Je ne sais pas. N'y a-t-il personne que vous puissiez appeler? Quelqu'un en qui vous avez confiance? […I don’t know. Isn’t there anyone you can call? Anyone you trust?]”

“Seuls les imbéciles font confiance à quiconque en qualité d’alpha. Et de toute façon, je ne suis pas sur le point de traverser cette fête en sentant… comme ça. [Only fools trust anyone in the capacity of an alpha. And anyway I am not about to walk through that party smelling…like this.]” His teeth were chattering with chills. He seemed to be getting worse. John wished he knew how much time they had.

“Je ne veux pas que tu meures. [I don’t want you to die.]” A flat, matter-of-fact statement.

“Comment tu sais ça ? Vous ne m'avez jamais rencontré. [How do you know that? You’ve never met me.]”

“C'est ce que je ressens. Je ne veux pas que tu meures. [It’s how I feel. I don’t want you to die.]”

Their conversation seemed to be over. A minute passed, and another. Then, “Pourquoi m'as-tu mis dans cette position ? Vous faites ça exprès. Tu es le seul alpha que j'ai jamais rencontré qui fait semblant d'être respectueux juste pour me faire supplier. C’est déroutant. [Why have you put me in this position? You’re doing this on purpose. You’re the only alpha I’ve ever met who pretends to be respectful just to make me beg. It’s confusing.]”

“Pas de mendicité. Je veux juste faire ce que tu veux. C'est tout. [No begging. I just want to do what you want. That’s all.]”

“Quelle mentalité pathétique. Il semble que vous soyez par nature servile. [What a pathetic mindset. It you're inherently servile.]” He went on muttering under his breath but John couldn’t hear it. Probably French swearing.

Not begging… John cleared his throat. “Je ne pense pas que ce soit pathétique de demander ce que l’on veut. Pour exiger ce que vous voulez. Je te veux. Que veux-tu? [I don’t think it’s pathetic to ask for what you want. To demand what you want. I want you. What do you want?]”

Vincent lifted his head enough to stare into the shadows, searching for a joke, a trick. John stepped forward enough to let the light fall on a face set with grave concern and tenderness.

“… Réparez ça. Montez-moi jusqu'à ce que ça s'arrête. […Fix this. Ride me until it stops.]”

And with that, everything John had been holding back burst forth at once. He pounced on Vincent. Belts: gone. He stripped Vincent the rest of the way down and let their contact be the only source of warmth against him.

What a warmth it was. Vincent was almost fatally overheated, but the aura of heat breathing off of his skin felt so good… All John wanted was to be buried in him. So wet too… There was slick pouring from between his legs, and his whole pelvis was red and swollen. Vincent moaned so hard when John pressed into him that he had to bite the back of his hand to avoid being heard.

“Est-ce que tu aimes ça? [Do you like that?]”

“Allez en enfer. Je – [Go to hell. I - ]” John stopped and the surrender came immediately. “Oui, oui, d'accord, j'aime ça. [Yes, yes okay I like it.]”

“Bien. Bon garçon. [Good. Good boy.]” John kissed his burning cheeks and forehead, cupped the back of his head in one hand to protect it from the hard ground. “Bon oméga [Good omega.]” Vincent’s walls contracted around him in response, a parallel of the thrill passing over the Marquis’ exultant expression. He was gasping with pleasure.

The burn in his face deepened and he buried it in John’s shoulder. “Je ne suis pas… ah… je ne suis pas un bon garçon [I’m not…ah…I’m not a good boy.]”

“Tu es. Vous êtes doué. Tu es adorable. Vous en êtes digne. Et je veux que tu vives. [You are. You’re good. You’re adorable. You’re worthy. And I want you to live.]” John rutted into him with every word, swelling rapidly. They’d knot soon, he could feel it building.

It took a second for him to realize how much he’d overwhelmed Vincent. He wasn’t just gasping against John’s shoulder anymore, he was sobbing.

John went still. “Hé. Ça va? [Hey. You okay?]”

“Ne demandez pas tout ! Je suis juste… je suis heureux. [Don’t ASK about everything! I’m just…I’m happy],” he muttered. “Alors continuez. [So keep going.]”

Happy. He’s happy because of me. He cuddled Vincent closer, locking his legs behind his hips to keep them from slipping apart for even an instant. Within moments, he was close to the knot again, waiting only for Vincent to push him over the edge.

Vincent was making soft, desperate noises into his neck, and just pulsing, throbbing rhythmically against him on all sides, milking him. He seemed to find a new wave of energy and started rolling his hips, becoming frantic. “Putain, John, j'en ai tellement besoin, j'ai besoin de plus, j'ai besoin de toi, j'ai besoin de toi ou je mourrai. [Fuck, John, I need it so badly, I need more, I need you, I need you or I’ll die.]”

“Tu m'as. Je ne laisserai rien t’arriver. C'est un lien. [You have me. I won’t let anything happen to you. It’s a bond.]” And it was. With a sense of both dread and satisfaction, he realized what was forming. “Je t'ai, Vincent. Vous êtes en sécurité. Je t'ai. J'ai… putain. [I have you, Vincent. You’re safe. I have you. I have…fuck.]” A rush of slick overwhelmed his words as Vincent came with what must have been dizzying force.

In answer, the knot hardened between them, semen flooding against Vincent’s walls, too much to fit inside him and enough to drip down their shaking legs onto the ground.

At last, they were quiet and still. Vincent’s head laid back and John kissed the tears off of his cheeks, feeling their pulses in sync deep inside the knot. This was who he wanted to be. Not the killer. Someone capable of saving a life. It occurred to John that in a few moments, this stranger would slip away. John would board a plane in the morning, and they might never see each other again.

And what was Vincent thinking about?

His eyes were closed, as long exhales left him. He looked drained by the fever and…tired. Completely tired in ways that even John didn’t understand. It was a kind of inverse of the way he didn’t understand civilians – instead of seeing a happiness that he couldn’t enter into, there was depth of misery here that demanded a companion. John stroked his hair fondly. Where did the physicality of this feeling begin and end? It felt so intimate, so intense. It couldn’t just be about the body. He wanted to be good to Vincent, to protect him. To find out what exactly he was protecting him from.

When they finally pulled apart, the heat had already started to dissipate. Vincent was shivering even more now, if that was possible. John gathered his clothes and began dressing Vincent gently, piece by piece of clothing. Vincent, meanwhile, sat on the ground, looking up at him with unreadable, soulful eyes. When they were both fully clothed again, John wrapped an arm around him and they leaned back against the wall, still concealed under the windowsill. “Que devons-nous faire maintenant ? Il y a probablement des gens qui vous recherchent. [What should we do now? There are probably people looking for you.]”

“Probablement. Mais maintenant je sens comme toi et j'ai l'air... [Probably. But now I smell like you and I look…]” He glanced down at his ruined vest and tsked.

“Viens avec moi. Je me faufilais par ici, on peut descendre le mur ensemble. [Come with me. I was sneaking out this way, we can both go down the wall together.]” John pulled out a length of climbing rope and tied it to the banister.

Vincent looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “Grimper? En bas du bâtiment ? [Climb? Down the building?]”

“Je vais vous montrer. Grimpe sur mon dos et accroche-toi à moi. [I’ll show you. Climb on my back and hold onto me.]” I don’t know what the future will bring. But hold onto me, for as long as you can.

And he did.