#{ this shouldn't have taken me as long as it did }

[kuroosamuu]

megumi x reader | warnings: making out | wc: 687

—

you and megumi decided to keep your relationship a secret. for reasons quite obvious to the two of you, for the current predicament you find yourselves in being one of the main ones.

with the two to of you both being students at jujutsu high, you're with each other more often than not. because of this, you two try to keep your feelings for each other at a minimum and keep anything away to the nosy people around you who would love to tease you about your relationship.

and megumi feels strongly about preventing that from ever happening.

well, that didn't last that long.

It was currently 1am, everyone was sleeping, and you were on your way to megumi's room.

you two did this often, finding the only moment of privacy with one another being in the middle of the night, where no one could interrupt the time you spend together. this was your time to be able to talk to him freely, without worrying about someone else interrupting your conversation or saying something about you two being a bit too close.

so, when you arrive and softly knocked on the door, you felt the relief you always feel when he opens the door, and allow yourself to throw your arms around him.

"missed you."

"you saw me today."

you pull away, pouting at him, "you know what I mean."

"I know, missed you too," he leans down and gives you a quick peck, before you two make your way to his bed to cuddle.

a daily routine at this point.

you lay with your head on his chest, his arm secured around you as you two talk mindlessly about anything and everything.

you end up perching your chin on his chest to look up at him, and before you know it, you lips are on his.

It starts off slow, gentle even, like every other kiss you two share. soon, you place your palm on his chest for leverage as you lift yourself up more in order to deepen the kiss.

megumi sits up slightly, bringing his back to rest on the headboard behind him as your lips move in sync, slowly deepening with each kiss.

you allow your hand that was previously situated on his chest to wander up and over his shoulder, as he takes one hand and place it on your waist.

he brings his other hand to the other side of your waist and moves you to straddle his lap properly now.

the kiss deepens in his new position, allowing yourself to hook your arms around his neck, while his one hand stays on your waist, the other slowly moving up and down your back.

all that is consuming your mind and body is megumi and you don't think of anything else, mind completely taken over by the feeling of his lips against yours.

and he is in the exact same way, hence the reason neither of you heard the door to megumi's room creak open.

and you didn't stop until you hear the crash of something hitting the floor.

you gasp as you part from megumi, throwing yourself off of him as fast as humanly possible and creating as much distance between you two as you could on his small bed.

you turn to look at the source of the sound to see yuji standing at megumi's doorway, whatever in his hand now on the floor, along with his jaw wide open.

the awkward silence between you three lasts for what feels like forever, before megumi finally speaks up.

"don't you know how to knock? what are you doing here."

"I did knock! you didn't reply so I just let myself in..." yuji replies looking between you and megumi, "maybe I shouldn't have..."

"It's not what it looks like," you try to explain weakly.

"I'll just leave you two alone."

yuji runs out of the room, and you look at megumi, the two of you knowing you're going to hear an earful tomorrow from both nobara and gojo, who yuji is definitely telling right now.

so much for keeping your relationship a secret.

—

[ihearthes]

Abbey Road Studios:

A Harry Styles Meet Cute

Author: @ihearthes

Pairing: Harry x Original Unnamed Female Character

Rating: Fluffy Meet Cute

Word Count: 3439

“You’re shitting me?” I gaped at my manager. “THE Abbey Road Studios? How did you…? When am I…? What the actual fuck?” 

Her grin across the desk was wider than a grand piano. “When I talked to the publishers about the audiobook, I assured them that being in the quintessential studio where the Beatles recorded The End would lead to a more inspired audiobook recording of your book The End.” 

Leaping out of my chair, I rushed around her desk and hugged her tighter than a guitar string nearing its breaking point. Her laughter was rich, the hearty kind that could be served with both a spoon and a fork. Maybe even a knife thrown in for good measure. 

“I’ll make you proud,” I vowed before releasing her and returning to the other side of the sparse wooden desk with its ornate carvings on each of the four legs.

“You already have,” she grinned. “After all, you have the most popular music podcast in the world.” Her statement was a major overstatement. Although my 2 year old podcast Time Machine Tunes was growing, it was barely in the top 100 music podcasts. Maggie was convinced the book would drive more listeners my way. “This book is going to be the icing on the cake of your popularity. You’re going places, kid.” 

While I could have managed without the ‘kid’ tacked onto every sentence the 72-year-old American dynamo spoke about me, I was keenly aware that I still had a long way to go in establishing my career as a historical music writer. Without Maggie fighting on my behalf, I would still be shopping my manuscript to publishers. Meticulously researched despite the subjects not honouring me with an interview, my book was garnering buzz from the musical world before the final manuscript was even sent to the publisher. 

“If you’ve heard the author’s podcast, you’ll understand her fascination with the greatest band of all time. You’ve heard the stories of how they ended, but this book delves more deeply into the stories surrounding their breakup,” read the promotional blurb written by Cameron Crowe. 

Maggie never would tell me how she managed to convince the great Cameron Crowe to write a blurb for my book, but I suspect it had something to do with the past she never mentions, likely involving a stint as a groupie in the late sixties. 

Days later, the popular zebra crossing was laid out before me with a steady stream of fans lined up to record their personal rendition of the most famous band photograph ever taken. I took a deep breath. In one tote bag, I carried my favourite teas, biscuits, and a bag of fresh fruit. The other tote bag held a copy of my bound manuscript with notes written in the margins of how I want to sound when I read certain parts of the text aloud. Places to pause were marked in pink highlighter. Sentences to be spoken with more emphasis were underlined. The usual. 

This is how I prepare for my podcast, so I shouldn't have felt as strange as I did. At the bottom steps of the studio, I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and whispering to myself, “Just act normal.” 

My fingers pressed on the wooden door, and it surprisingly opened at my touch. Inside was a reception desk with a stony-faced twenty-something female sitting behind it, tapping lightly on the keyboard keys, and a security guard wearing a uniform that must have weighed double the young man wearing it. 

“No tours. The shop is next door, Miss,” the receptionist politely used her pen to point the way. 

Gulping air, I nodded, then spoke in a rush. “I’m here to record. I mean, I have an appointment. I mean I’ve – my manager, really – has reserved a studio for me.” 

So much for acting normal. 

“Which studio?” 

“The Front Room?” I ventured. 

She tapped her pen on the book in front of her before shrewdly surveying me from head to toe. “Oh yes. Hand over your ID please so we can verify your identity.” 

I fumbled my way through my pocketbook, seeking the one item that always seemed to fall to the bottom, no matter how large or small my bag might be. Just as I felt the leather of the small wallet touch my fingers, it slipped away again until I finally had to set the bag on her desk to more effectively dig through it. In triumph, I finally withdrew the offending item, raising it above my head. 

The security guard simply stared at me until I freed my licence from its card slot, handing it over with a flourish. With a brusque nod, he took it from me with two fingers, exiting the room to another office. 

“Should I – follow him?” I inquired, my voice a combination of shaky and firm. 

“No.” Her reply was curt. 

Minutes later, he emerged, handing me back my licence before directing me to another door. “That’s the Front Room. The team is waiting for you.” 

My insides quivered like a bowl of elderflower jelly as I took the steps necessary to walk to the identified door. 

“Ta!” I waved to the front office team before opening the studio door and stepping inside. Closing the door behind me, I slumped against it, eyes closed, and whispered, “You daft git.” Because of course I would see them again. Soon probably. And every day for the week while I would be recording. 

“Excuse me?” The voice caused me to stand up straight. 

“Oh, I didn’t mean you.” My eyes took in the slight man standing before me in blue jeans and a cosy oversized jumper. His curls were ringlets that reached his shoulders, and his beard was neat and trim. 

“Who did you mean?” 

Wincing, I frowned, my face cycling through about five different expressions before settling on a smile that, I hoped, lit up my whole face. “Me. I meant me. I’m —” Freezing, I held out my hand to this man, briefly forgetting my name. 

“I know who you are. I’m Sean, your engineer.” 

“Oh! It’s so nice to meet you. Thank you for helping me.” 

Sheepishly, he shuffled his feet. “Don’t thank me too profusely. This is my first time doing this on my own.” 

“Congratulations!” My voice squeaked out a little too loudly. “This is my first time recording in a real studio. My podcast is normally recorded in a tiny room at home that I’ve converted into a studio.” 

“I’ve heard your podcast,” Sean reveals. “My partner and I never miss an episode.” 

Grasping my hands together, I hold them over my heart. “Really? Thank you so much. It’s my baby.” 

“One of these days you’re going to need a producer, you know. You can’t keep doing it all on your own. Not if you want to get bigger. And you’ll need a recordist. And an engineer too.” 

“Oh.” My voice was tiny. His words felt like a scolding and a dismissal of my teensy podcast and my dream to grow it into something larger. 

“No, no. I didn’t mean anything by it.” He was quick to correct my assumptions. “You’ll continue to expand your audience, and more people will want to be part of your team. It’s the natural evolution of recording. Unless you’re not any good – which I’ve already said you are.” 

Choosing to take him at his encouraging word, I set my totes on the sofa in the control room. “Sean, I’m confident we’re going to get along just fine this week.” 

“I’m sorry that you’ve just got me. It’s usually a bigger team here for the Front Room, but…” His voice trailed off, and I focused on his face. 

“But?” 

“It’s nothing.” He mindlessly picked some lint off of the immaculate sound board. “Some of the rest of the team thought it was sacrilegious for you to come into Abbey Road Studios to share your book about how THEY ended.” 

The emphasis on the pronoun made it clear who he meant. “Ah, I see. They refused to work with me even though they had no idea what the book actually says or how much research I did?”

His shoulders raised and lowered, and his eyes roamed the floor. “Like I said, I’m sorry.” 

The reluctance of the rest of the team set like a stone in my stomach, but I shook off the negativity. Oh well. Fuck them. 

“Their loss,” I grinned. 

He smiled back at me. “Agreed. Let’s do this.” Sean gestured around the space, pointing out everything I needed to know, and I unpacked my totes in preparation for the day. “Nice selection of teas,” he commented. 

“My throat gets dry sometimes.” 

As if he needed my explanation. He had worked with loads of people who probably needed tea to lubricate their throats, so it couldn’t be unusual. Why I felt like I needed to justify every bit of my practice was beyond me. I was a professional after all. 

A professional who had no idea what she was doing in a fancy studio like this. 

Apparently I was feeling a twinge of imposter syndrome. 

“Shall I heat some water now?” Sean asked as I unpacked the manuscript with all of its sticky notes resembling the jagged cliffs of Dover. It was really sweet of him to offer, so I agreed. The control room wasn’t very big; other than the sofa, it housed a couple of plants and, of course, the prominent sound board. Sean flicked the switch on the electric kettle to the left of his console and turned back to where I was standing, my manuscript tucked to my chest as though it contained a pirate’s treasure. 

“Let’s get you into the booth,” he said, leading me through the only other door in the small studio. “We mostly do music here, as I’m sure you know. But I think I’ve got things set up well for an audiobook. I brought in this small desk and a chair. If you don’t like the chair, I can find another one. Oh, and I found this.” He directed my attention to a book stand. Sheepishly, he smiled. “I was worried a music stand would be too flimsy.” 

His simple preparations were touching, and my gratitude was boundless. 

My arse settled into the chair, and I sighed at how luxurious it felt on my bum. “Perfect!” I proclaimed, placing the first chapter of the manuscript on the book holder. 

“Great! Let’s try some different microphones and test your voice.” 

An hour plus a few minutes later, we had finalised the microphone choice as well as the calibration of the sound board controls with my voice. My cup of tea was to my right and my coloured pencils were to my left so I could easily grab them to indicate changes to my delivery. 

To record, Sean closed the door between the control room and the booth, but I could see him through the full sized soundproof glass inset on the door between us. During the first couple of hours, he would encouragingly nod to me at times. Or he would grimace, and I would know I had to read a section differently. Or louder. Or softer. Or with more expression. 

“Uh, this first chapter will probably take a long time to record,” Sean shuffled his feet as we finished our morning tea. “Don’t panic. Once we get into a groove, the rest of the book will go much faster. It’s just that we have to, you know…” 

“I understand,” I commented, nodding graciously. “It’s fine. As long as we get finished with the book by the end of the week…” 

“Oh, that won’t be hard.” He flapped his hand at me. “We might even have time on the last day to record a few of your upcoming podcasts.” 

“Really?” I was intrigued at the thought.

“But only if we don’t get too distracted.” 

Ha! What could possibly distract me from my work? 

I found out the answer to that question that very afternoon. 

Sean and I were finally recording chapter two, our bellies full of the lunch he’d convinced a studio runner to take away from a nearby Indian restaurant. The remnants, half-full boxes of rice and curry with naan bread, covered the top of the coffee table by the sofa. 

We had switched out the comfy chair for a wooden stool so that I could sit upright, practise my best posture and, most importantly, not fall asleep after the heavy meal. Sean played the roles of engineer, recordist, and director with joy and a skill that I came to both appreciate and disparage as the early afternoon flew by. 

 When I looked up from the script in front of me as we were in the middle of chapter three, I was surprised to find Sean turned towards the main studio door, his lips moving as though he were talking to someone. 

“Hey!” My voice expressed my gentle offence in his headphones. “I thought we were a team, but you’re not even listening!” 

He shook his head, removing his headphones and punching the button for his microphone. 

“Take five. There are a couple of fans of yours out here who want to meet you. I think you might recognize one of them.” 

Ugh. Fine. 

Standing from the stool, I stretched my arms over my head, my vintage Beatles t-shirt rising and revealing my belly button. Through the large window between the booth and control room, I watched as Sean stood, his head bobbing up and down and a grin on his face. 

When I could stall no more, I opened the door, leaning against the door jamb as I examined the two men standing by the studio door.

“Hi,” said one. 

My jaw dropped as the other man’s face came into focus. Holy shit. How was he here? Had Sean joked about him being a fan? He must have been because there was no way… 

“Jeff Azoff,” I breathed, attempting to speak coherently. “You’re Jeff Fucking Azoff.”

“Yes” was his smooth answer. “And I’m sure you know who this is…” He gestured to the man with him, and I shifted my gaze briefly to him. While extremely handsome, his face didn’t ring any bells, but I decided I’d better be polite and go along with the implication that I should know him by sight. 

“Nice to meet you,” I muttered, quickly turning back to THE Jeff Azoff. “How did you…? I mean, holy shit. The number of times your father’s name has appeared in my research is staggering. Did you grow up surrounded by all of those musicians? REO Speedwagon? Dan Fogelberg? The fucking Eagles?” 

“Yes,” he nodded. 

Man of few words. 

“What was it like? Oh wow. What I would give to pick your brain. Did I hear Sean correctly? You’re a fan? You listen to my pod?” 

Once more, he bobbed his head in answer to my multiple questions. And then he tried to hoist me off on his friend again. 

“Harry has worked with some other great artists,” Jeff began, nodding towards his companion. 

Dismissively, I waved my hand in the direction of the handsome man who simply grinned, an extraordinary dimple appearing. 

“YOU know my podcast?” I demanded of Mr. Azoff.

“Yes.” 

Holy shit. Confident I would need to pry any future responses out of him, I placed my hands on my hips. 

“You’ve heard my series about the Eagles then?” 

“Indeed.” 

“And? What did you think? Are you going to tell me everything I got wrong?” 

“No, but I really think you might want to talk to Harry about…” 

I interrupted. Whoever this Harry was, I was much more curious about this man’s take on my podcast. “Has your father heard my podcast?” My voice may have squeaked a little when I asked the question. 

A nod was the only reply I got before he turned back to the bloke with him. 

“Is this weird for you?” 

“No.” The handsome man appeared to be amused as his lips twitched to the side, and his eye crinkles magically appeared. “Unique, but not weird.” 

Narrowing my focus on the handsome one, I squinted. “You’re a musician recording here?” 

“As a matter of fact, I am,” he grinned. “I’m Harry.” When my face still showed no signs of recognition, he added in a smooth voice with a northern accent, “You might have heard of me. My music has won a few awards. Harry Styles.” 

The blood drained from my face. I had been freaking out over Jeff Azoff when the muse to Stevie Nicks was standing in front of me? It was Harry who grasped my elbow when I started to fall over from a lack of oxygen, gently guiding me to the sofa. 

“Maybe some water?” he asked Sean who rushed into the booth to grab my water bottle, handing it to Harry quickly. 

“Sip it slowly,” the Grammy winner said, and I ignored his instructions, nearly choking as I sucked water into my lungs. “Hey, hey. Easy there.” Glancing at Azoff, Harry laughed, “This feels more normal.” 

“You –” I choked, coughing between words. “You – know – Stevie – Fucking – Nicks.” 

Curiosity furrowed his brow. “That’s why you nearly passed out? Because I know Stevie?” 

“You not only know her.” My voice was filled with incredulity and awe. “You’re her muse. You’ve performed with her – and with Fleetwood Mac. And you were the one who inducted her. Holy fuck. You must have done something right in life.” Stopping, I swallowed. “Holy fuck. I must have done something right in my life.” 

He had settled on the sofa next to me, his face a mass of confusion. His head was tilted, and his lips were pursed as he scratched at his head. 

But I didn’t have time to wait for him to catch up. “You can introduce me! Fleetwood Mac is my next podcast series, and if this book does well, I might write a full book about them. I’ve been engaged in a deep dive of reading about their time as a band. I’ve read everything I can find – official or not. In fact, there is a stack of books on my nightstand about Stevie and Mick and the rest. You have to introduce me. It would mean the world to me.” 

My pleading must have broken through his confusion, and he cleared his throat. “You want me to vouch for you to Stevie? I don't really know anything about you.” 

“But you listen to my podcast, right?” My head swivelled between Harry and Jeff. “Oh! You could read my book. See what my style is. I swear I would do right by Stevie. I’m so disappointed that I didn’t get to meet Christine before she… Anyway, I’ll do anything for an introduction. What do you need from me?” 

“Anything?” Harry humoured me. 

“Yes.” Swallowing, I nodded eagerly. 

“You’re saying I could read your book? The one that’s not yet published? The one you’re recording now?” 

My head bobbed like a cormorant. 

“The one that’s about The End? That book?” 

I hadn’t stopped my silly affirming as my head continued to move in the same up and down pattern. 

“And maybe Jeff could read it too? And my friend Paul?” 

My head froze, mid-bob. “Paul? Sir Paul? Sir Paul Fucking McCartney?” 

Harry laughed, a delightful tinkling sound, his head rearing back with his joy. “Does everyone in your world have the same middle name?” 

“Huh?” 

“Fucking. Jeff Fucking Azoff. Harry Fucking Styles. Stevie Fucking Nicks. Sir Paul Fucking McCartney.” 

Slapping my hand over my eyes and forehead, I groaned. “Please don’t tease me or joke with me. I’ve been trying to get Sir Paul to talk to me and read the manuscript since I started writing it. Not a single response to my queries.” 

“Hmmm…” Harry murmured, tilting his head to one side. “So if you would do anything to meet Stevie, what would you be willing to do to meet Paul?” 

“Name your price.” I was hoping he wouldn’t ask for much. All I had was the flat I shared with a friend from uni and a wardrobe of vintage clothing I’d carefully culled from a variety of charity shops.

“I get to be there when you meet them.” My head whipped up so that our eyes connected. “Plus five dinner dates with me.” 

My eyes narrowed, “In addition to any meals we share with Stevie or Paul?” 

Nervously, he licked his lips and glanced at Azoff who shrugged, seemingly disinterested. 

“Yes.” 

Author's Note: This really is just an introduction to these characters as part of a series on Meet Cutes. Who hasn't dreamed of meeting Harry Styles somewhere? Live vicariously through these women who randomly run into Harry Styles as part of their normal lives. How might one chance meeting change their lives forever?

[ryttu3k]

Largely for reference, the conversations Jaheira's kids have with each other. Rion talks to Fig and Tate, Jord talks to Jhessem (and the plants); there's four bits of dialogue each.

Rion and Fig

"Poor dummy. Look at its arms - it just wants a hug."

"That's why it keeps losing. Dummy."

-

"Am I supposed to pretend that sword you're swinging wasn't stolen from my room?"

"Wrong. It's completely different."

"Funny. Because it looks just like the one I stole from mum when I was your age."

-

"Good. But you'll need to learn more than just the Harper forms."

"Is that why they threw you out? Because you didn't like their forms?"

"They didn't throw me out. I left. There was just… more to be learned elsewhere."

"Like the Flaming Fist?"

"No, now they threw me out."

-

"When can I move on to a real sword?"

"Oh, stop sulking. I had to teach myself in secret when I started. Mum didn't want to 'force me into the same life'."

"When did she change her mind?"

"About the third time I knocked her on her arse."

-

Rion and Tate

"Hey. You alright up here?"

"Yeah. I'll come down soon. Sorry."

"Don't need you to be sorry. Just checking that you're all right."

-

"You going to eat with us today?"

"I'm not… I'm not hungry. Really."

"Ah. Well, I could use a hand with the washing up - last time I let Fig do it, she blunted my best knife slaying 'soap-mephits'."

"Heh. All right."

-

"Would you like a book? I can have Jhessem drop one up. Maybe she'll even read it with you."

"Jhess…? Eh, no. That's all right. I'm all right."

"What if I tell her not to do the goblin voice?"

"I guess… that would be okay."

-

"You don't need to watch the door, you know. No one's getting in that we don't want to."

"They don't need to get past the door. They could just b-board it up and burn the place."

"True, I suppose. But you have something out there that you didn't, in your last house."

"…Fig."

"Fig."

Jord and Jhessem

"Bootprints on the tabletop. You haven't been poking around the top shelves again - have you, Jhessem?"

"Of course not. Her diaries are off-limits."

"And written in code too, I'm afraid."

"I know. It's not a very good code."

-

"Well, what are we reading now? More Alaundo?"

"No. I'm looking for any histories about this Absolute."

"I wouldn't bother. It's a new god - unknowable and mysterious."

"It's just another cult. And cults are common as muck."

"Huh. So sayeth the wise Jhessem."

-

"Try that hand-bill on fungal poultices. We might be tending the injured here before long."

"Perhaps you should brush up on the herb-lore yourself, Jord. Mother's vines are looking a little weedy."

"Why are the quiet ones always the cruellest?"

-

"That reminds me. I'm working on our family tree - I've already placed Rion. You're next."

"Hah. Well, I'm afraid you won't find us dangling from any of the same branches, sproutling."

"So we'll graft on another. A druid should know how to do that, shouldn't he?"

"I… suppose he should, at that."

Jord to plants

"You three have been just guzzling the water recently. Save some for the others, all right?"

"Coming along nicely there, Floki. Good, strong roots."

"Those leaves are a little darker than I'd like, Felicis. Bad soil? Hm. Don't tell mother…"

"Oh, come on, Ferdinand, I just trimmed you."

-

Rion and Jord are definitely trying their best to be big siblings! Rion is very gentle with Tate (who, from that last dialogue, seems to have experienced some trauma before being adopted by Jaheira - there's a letter that suggests his biological parents were amongst the first taken by the cult), Jhessem is a character, Jord and his plants are adorable, and Rion and Fig are very much cut from the same cloth.

[tarnussy]

I crammed as much lore into this as possible

[poisned]

No one can shake off cuteness

X - BONUS - X (It's not a bonus 'cause I forgot to draw Y/N's details, and I'm too lazy to fix it definitely not)

[ultaslodgings]

Here's a small rant about a fun thing I realised with the two TGAA games

[spoiler free]

———————————

Did you know that the two games have a colour motif to them? With Adventures being red, and Resolve - blue?

I'm sure most people are aware, as it is most apparent in their respective save files. (Excuse the crappy image)

And as most people are aware, these colours are HEAVILY present in the games, most notably to represent two of the main characters - Kazuma and Ryunosuke.

But the question here is WHY have this colour motif for each game? And more specifically, WHY is Adventures in red and Resolve in blue?

It's because it was Kazuma's Adventure that we embarked on in TGAA 1, and Ryunosuke's Resolve which we witnessed in TGAA 2.

I really find this detail poetic and quite beautiful even? It gives an extra layer to Ryunosuke's journey and arc, that didn't even need to be there, but it is.

There are so many little bits and details throughout the game, and I wanted to shout out one of them :)

[pan-magi]

Happy 15th Anniversary Magi~ Magi Appreciation 9/9

That's a wrap. Wish I had a bunch of Yunan in SnB but otherwise I'm happy with all the ones I've included.

🎊🎉

[the-alan-price-combo]

Hiii, please do you know where I can watch that interview where Eric talks about the night Alan leave the band? The video that was on the post was deleted from YouTube 😭

P.s I love your drawings ❤️ (english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistake )

AaAA!! Hello, and thank you so much for reaching out to ask!! 🥹🐾

I remember it was sometime earlier last year (2023) that I noticed that the YouTube links for the Eric-BBC-Interview clips had suddenly dissappeared - both the anecdote about the phone call Eric shared with Alan when Alan left, and the "love-hate, delicate relationship" clip. It was extremely disappointing to realize this.. not only because it left a couple missing sources in my essay, but also because I didn't have the foresight to save them beforehand; I apologize for that! 😭

I saved many, many Animals and Alan videos in late August of 2023, with this situation being one of the primary reasons. At the very least, I'm glad I typed out a little transcript of those moments, and it isn't as major with the anecdote from Eric's first autobiography supporting it... but, it does feel really weird to have a missing source to a video that I so distinctly remember being up with Eric actively saying those words. And it makes me feel really bad that I can't find it for you! 😢

I'll try and do some research and see if the full BBC interview is saved somewhere - that original YouTube uploader never included a date, but considering how somewhat decent the BBC is with archiving their interviews/broadcasts (several of Alan's are still in circulation!), maybe I'll be able to find the full broadcast! If I'm able to, I'll definitely message you or tag you in a post so you can listen to it!! 🐾✨️ And, of course, if the YouTube channel suddenly comes back, I'll let you know as well!

Thank you again for the kind words, and I'm very sorry that source is unavailable. 😭 I'm so glad you like my artwork as well - drawing the Animals (and Eric and Alan) is a passion of mine!! 💞🐾✨️

[dreamboyf]

finallyyy fucking got my testosterone holy shit

[korattata]

the curse of knowing things about animals is so so heavy

[scara-writes]

paramour

Yandere!Cheating Duke X Duchess! Reader X Yandere!Lover Servant

I just want to write a reader who has the same/more power as/to the yandere(s).

The setting is still in the fantasy/manhwa world, medivial, any setting as long it's not modern.

CW: two yandere, rivals, cheating, consent smut, infidelity.

I'm making the darling a little more forward(?), daring, more power or that can go against a yandere. Atleast, that's what the darling thinks. Also, this is not polished like my other stories.[ Forgive me, I'm not good with smuts! I also love y'all comments and your ask/request(will answer them soon!). The Yandere Emperor and Yandere Crown Prince son really outnumbered the yandere Omega. Y'all are crazy for that!]

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

"Mistress." He murmured. His arms hadn't let go off your waist. It was the first thing your eyes landed on when the sunlight came in to greet a new day from the window balcony. You closed your eyes again to find your way back to sleep again.

Your hands went to trace his back full of scar last night from your nails. You hummed when he gave you a pepper kisses on your exposed skin.

"Morning." He gave you one last kiss on your lips before snuggling between your chest. His arms hadn't move around your waist since last night."Mmmh..morning..." You muttered looking away—eyes still close—from the sun when it kissed your face.

"Do you want me to call the maids to serve you breakfast?" His sweet voice lull to sleep more. You whispered no. Last night, this man gave you something akin to that of heaven, something your husband never gave you.

Last night, you made love with this man. The same man you rescued from the human trafficking, kidnapping commoner from the outskirts of the kingdom. Now, indebted by your kindness he devout himself to you with his life.

You groaned, feeling your body is aching all over. This goes not unnoticed by your lover."Did I hurt you to bad?" He asked. His earth orbs are gleaming with shine and now getting filled with tears. "I-I'm sorry, I was rough with you mistress." His voice full of regret and loathe on himself.

You opened your eyes, ruffling his curly brown hair before stroking it. Staring down at his eyes. "No. You did good." You smiled at him, cupping his face, before kissing him in the lips. He whimpered,deepening his into yours.

The intoxication of alcohol must have taken over you. Drowning yourself from the alcohol beverages after your husband didn't arrive on the scheduled date, you waited for him for a whole day to arrive. Alone in the gazebo, Everett was the one who went to your weeping figure. That was a month ago. Everett offered himself to shower you with his love. At first you feel reluctant about this, you will never be the type of person to use someone just so you can feel yourself happy. Everett didn't care about it whether you use him or not. He wanted to prove himself that you are worth to be love. This man made your heart flutter in a way that your husband once gave you before the marriage.

"I-I love what happened last night, my mistress." He whispered bashfully, his pretty swollen lower lip,you bitten hard last night, went to reach his eyes giving you a wide smile. The sun kissed his tan face adding a charming look. His neck has full of bites and bruises from you. His cheeks become a little darker shade from blushing, he must have reminisced something last night.

Now, you made him your lover. Though not completely in love with Everett. You also shower him with items or materials that most commoners would love to have but it doesn't seem like this man is materialistic. He just wants you.

You didn't hide Everett to your husband.

What's the use of hiding your fling to Theodore when he was the first one to cheat on this marriage?

Despite being loyal to that man you loved. He had the audacity to tell you that you shouldn't pry on his private his life after you confronted him with a newly hired maid going out. "Our marriage contract states that the two parties should not meddle one another's private life else this contract shall be annuled."

So all of his flexing his love for you was nothing but a hoax? A show? A lure for you to agree to marry him?

Though, your marriage with him was for the politcial marriage. You once fell in love with Theodore. The same man who gave you flowers everytime you two date, the same man who kissed in your cheeks after he walk you home, the same man who always writes poems about his devotion to you. Did he pursuade you to continue this marriage by making you love him so that the two duchy became one? It may seem like you wanted this marriage at first. You didn't, your family wanted it and they have asked you—no annoyingly, they plead you to marry him, because your parents and his parents signed a contract that their children will reunite the two duchy.

"Your ladyship, the duke asked for your audience to join him in the breakfast." Your butler from the other side of your room, outside the door, knocked and speaks after. You frown upon hearing it, looking at the closed door, what does he want?

You feel strange about your husband nowadays. He had been asking for your presence this past few days. Never once he called for you after your wedding with him.

You clicked your tongue and turn to look at your lover. You notice Everett's face was frowning too. "Tell the duke that I will be there in a moment." You announced to the butler outside the room expecting the old man to gear you through it. You look back at the man leaning his weight on you. You tap the curly haired lover to let you go from his hold yet he didn't budge after moving yourself to sit up instead you heard yourself going 'oomfh!' and finding your lips were on his again. You groaned while he moaned weakly. He pushed you down on the bed, his lips never leaving yours until you were out of breath. A string of saliva trailed between your mouths. Everett was smiling before diving his lips into your skin, to one of your chest, fondling the other. You feel a little ticklish and panting at his stimulation. "Eve—! Wait! Ah..." Your voices went unheard, The male's mewling, sucking on to your flesh like thirsty man who hadn't had a drink.

Your hand went to tug his hair as you moaned out his name. "Shi—Eve... Oh! S-stop... Ah.."

His other hand goes to put one of legs above his back and parted the other leg, accessing himself between you even more."m-mistress!"

You groaned when you felt him grind between you. He looked at you with a pleading eyes, he look like he will cry again, the tears filling up yo the side from his eyes. "M-mistress." He whined his mouth was already in another mound. You feel his hardness between. "p-please? I'll be good! Please... huff..I'll make y-you feel good!"

Your eyes are hazy from the pleasure. "You want.. hah... it?" His eyes getting filled again with tears. You tug him by the hair not enough to hurt him. You landed your lips on his ears. Panting and breathless when you felt his hands is still fondling your body. "You got..ngh... to earn it, pretty boy." You murmurs made him whimpered. "You have to be my good boy... Are you my good boy?"

He nod, a tear fell down to his cheeks, he leaned down to your lips, murmuring, i-am-your-good-boys, thank-yous and I-love-yous.

The room filled with noises that could make anyone flustered and uncomfortable. You didn't realize from your high you are feeling that the butler is coughing uncomfortably behind the door excusing himself as he will inform the duke what you told him earlier.

You went down the stairs with a difficulty, aching between your thighs. You can't find any dress to cover the one hickey on your neck, Everett apologize and helped you cover it with a foundation but it failed horribly from covering seeing that the foundation wasn't blend well and you do not want your maids do it for you. Not when you found out that almost all of them had already been with your husband. You were planning to replace them sooner.

You stopped at the closed door leading to the dinning room. The butler from earlier straightened his posture, clearing his throat after he saw you. He announced your presence behind the door opening the door for you."My lord, your ladyship is here."

You walked in after thanking one of the male servant for pushing the seat for you once you sit across the lord of the household, your husband, the Duke.

The breakfast before you was served cold. If you have arrived earlier you could have eaten warm. You glance at your husband, surprised that his plate has not been finished and it looked like he didn't touched it. You noticed his eyes is trained on to you since you came in, yet his eyes isn't on you but to your neck and the way you walk earlier.

His grey eyes seemed to be narrowing, he scoffed. "You're late."

You glance away, picking one of the utensil, stabbing the meat, landing it to your mouth chewing it. You gulped it down before taking another bite. The marinated pork seems to be delicious even if the breakfast a little no warm.

"It seems you are enjoying with your toy a little too much." He added, there was anger rising beneath his voice.

Oh, the egg is a little bland but it is still edible nonetheless.

"There are more new reports about your speculated infidelity to the public. Do you know that?"

You looked at him after eating the last piece of the sunny side egg, smiling: finally acknowledging his presence."Yeah, what about it? It's not like it will ruin our marriage. After all, you had a numerous of headlines about your 'rumored' infidelity too. Did our contractwas nulled after that? It didn't right?"

"(Y/n)."

"Yes, husband?"

His eyes widened a little before going back on giving you death gaze. "Kick that slave away. I don't like him." He demanded. Though he wasn't shouting. You frowned, how dare he?

"Why would I? It's my decision whether I choose to throw him out or not."

"I do not want him near my property." He complained, gritting his teeth at the last word.

"This is my property as well!" You sternly answered back. Not leaving another room for an argument.

There was silence between the room.

"... I... don't want him near you." You heard him. You blinked at the sudden word that blurted in his mouth.

You scoff standing up, "I think I should finish my meal somewhere..." You starts walking back to where you enter the room.

"(Y/n)." Theodore called you. You didn't observe the way his eyes longed for you. You were focus on the anger within you. "Are we forgetting something, Theodore?" You questioned.

He pondered, those orb you used to love held a confusion.

"Meddling into your partner's private life will annul this marriage... Wasn't that written in our contract?" You bitterly told him. "Sounds familiar right? Do not dare demand me to throw away Everett." You added.

Finally waiting for this moment for this to happen. Guess he will get to taste his own medicine.

"... As long as we do our part in this household we will act as husband and wife. Is not that what you told me?"

"..."

"Now then, I will excuse myself. I have no longer desire to finish my breakfast here." With that, you leave him there.

When you reach the door, opening it, you were surprise to see Everett waiting outside. "What are you doing here?" You asked him. Your frowned face was replaced with a confusion look before giving him a small smile. The man infront of you return your smile with a small grin, placing one of his arm on your waist."W-well, I feel bored and alone in my own room. So I found myself waiting here w-with the butler. Besides I saw you walking wobbly earlier and I-I am concerned that you might have even more difficulty walking... So f-forgive me for not staying put." The look concern on his face adding the pout from his lips made him look cute.

"What are you a puppy?"You poke his nose giggling as you walk away with him, your eyes went back to talk to the butler. Telling him you want to continue your breakfast at your garden, asking him to make it for a two people. The butler bowing to your order before going to the kitchen area to order the maid.

Your husband on the other hand, loath with rage and jealousy mixing under his eyes. His eyes narrowed especially when the slave you brought in leaned on top of your head kissing at the crown part of your head, leaning to your ear to whisper something akin to sweet talks. The arm around your waist went to rub your back.

If only you glance again on Everett's face. You would have caught him giving your husband a smug smirk.

[imrllytootiredforthis]

thinking about how there isn't enough on virgin!minho

like things get a little handsy and then you learn how sensitive he is... idk i just love subby whiny min but i haven't seen any inexperienced/virgin minho around :/

Made of Glass

pairing: lee minho x reader

warnings: dom afab reader (no pronouns are mentioned, reader does have a hole but i don't think anything else - besides minho referring to the reader as a goddess once), sub virgin minho, lots of build-up, little bit of a handjob, grinding on his bare dick, penetrative sex ( r receiving, haven't written it in a long time so don't get mad if it's shit😻), fluffy build up (they're in love your honour), he says he hates you a lot (but he doesn't mean it cause we love subby tsundere boys)

word count: erm...about 4.6k

-- MINORS BEGONE --

Minho wasn't ashamed of the fact that he was a virgin.

Untouched and "pure", undirtied by the hands of another some might even say. Specifically you, teasing him with light kisses and gentle touches.

And sure, he'd gotten to 2nd base in a high school relationship and older drunken mishaps but never anything more. Never as so far as to...feel certain things from another person.

Or from himself for that matter.

But no, wasn't ashamed that he was a virgin but he was maybe, perhaps, just a little bit embarrassed.

And he had absolutely zero idea how to breach the topic with you much less approach it.

You, who knew he was a virgin. Always so patient and careful with him.

Obviously, it should be expected that in the heat of the moment you stop when he freezes up or slows when he tenses up. But none of his previous partners had ever treated him so nicely, without getting angry or miffed off after at the very least.

They hadn't kissed his cheeks gently with a smile and conceded into a cuddle after it happened several times. They hadn't wrapped him up in their arms and turned on a movie, or delicately asked to talk about it after the fact.

You did though.

With no questions and no pressuring and no guilt-tripping. No anger.

He loved it. He loved you...as long as that had taken for him to come to terms with, with you and with himself.

He loved you.

And he was ready.

To...to, yeah.

And what better way than to just come out and say it? But that's embarrassing.

"I think I wanna...you know."

"Darling, sorry, can you speak up?" You looked up at him, yawning and setting your phone down on the coffee table.

He flushed and turned away, "um..." and he could feel every ounce of confidence in his body drain out of him like that.

Under your eyes, like this, you so attentive to listen to him. So nice, giving him your whole attention like he was the only thing that mattered.

You patted the couch next to you and he had no choice to sit down, falling into your arms like he was the missing piece to your puzzle.

He was quick to nuzzle his face into your throat, hiding against you. You just made him so nervous. Why did you make him so nervous still? After dating for this long, you shouldn't make him feel this way still.

Fluttery and gooey and nervous.

He'd say he hated it. The way you made his heart flutter...as sappy and love-drunk as that sounded.

He'd say he hated it when your hand cupped his cheek, turning him back to you. But he didn't hate it. Not one bit.

"I love you."

A grin split across your face, lighting up in that way you always did when he said those three words. No matter how many times he's said it, it would still drive you crazy like it was the first.

You giggled and kissed the tip of his nose gently. "Say it again for me darling? Just one more time, please?"

Now you were teasing him. But you couldn't help it. You loved teasing him so much. Loved fluttering kisses over his face and hearing him say those words again and again and again.

You didn't think you could ever get sick of it.

"Fuck you," He groaned but his tone with filled with anything but malice, making you laugh; letting him bury his head into your neck. "Fuck you for being so..."

"So what?" You challenged. "Hmm?"

His voice was muffled against your skin, barely legible, "So...insufferable." But he must like suffering then. "And intolerable." And he must have built up some tolerability, maybe because he was around you so much, indulging in you far too often.

You pulled his body against yours, leaning back to slot his body onto yours.

He was too eager to follow your lead.

To let himself be maneuvered so his hips were pressed against yours and your chest was aligned with his, so softly you moved him, so carefully you treated him.

He could feel your heart beating in time with his, fluttering and quick. He loved the feeling like he loved everything about you.

Fuck you for making him feel like this.

For the butterflies in his stomach. And the flush on his cheeks. And the hard-on between you and him, wishing desperately you wouldn't notice.

But of course you would.

You pulled his face from your neck, hands holding either side of his face, keeping him in place - like he'd want to be anywhere else.

"So I'm insufferable and you're...what?" Your lips pouted and he felt the overwhelming need to kiss them. To kiss you. Hard and fast and the way he needed.

He pretended to think but was only sidetracked by the feeling of your thumbs brushing over his cheekbones, tracing his lips and following down to his jawline.

"Mmm, I'm...handsome. And, uh," he let out an embarrassing breathy sigh when you lean in, kissing the corner of his mouth so softly he wouldn't be sure it was there if he hadn't watched you.

"And...?" You prompted, smiling coyly. You knew the effect you had on him.

You peppered kisses over his face, following where you'd touched him with your fingers seconds before. You nipped at his cheek and pulled away before he could properly reply.

"...pretty?" Though the words came out more as a question than anything else. "I mean-"

A giggle escaped your lips, "Hell yeah you are," you brush your nose against his, looking at him in a way so scarily intimate he has to look away first.

"Pretty..." you mutter, sighing. "Y'know, I think I can accept being insufferable and intolerable if you can accept being pretty," you whisper, guiding him back to you with a delicate kiss, finally to his lips. "And handsome," you murmur, smiling against him as he deepens the kiss, hands grasping at the fabric of your shirt.

You pull away with a small teasing smirk, "And beautiful, and gorgeous, and stunnin-mmph!"

His hands fist the fabric, pulling you in before you can continue with your stupid rant. Before you can focus on the way his heart pounds when you add on another praise.

You hum and recede into the motion, allowing him to push his tongue into your mouth, sloppyily, in the way oddly reminiscent of the way horny teenagers kiss.

In a matter of seconds he's turned the kiss from sweet to something not-so-sweet.

Exactly what he wanted, and maybe he wouldn't even need to suffer through the awkwardness of asking.

Everything he put in was returned by you in the tenfold, one hand moving from his cheek to the nape of his neck, the effects making you laugh against his lips. His form shivering into yours, full-bodied and obvious.

"Sensitive?" You pulled away, with a breath, mouth curling up. "It's okay, it's cute-mmph!"

He crashed his lips against yours again, effectively cutting off your words and your thoughts. Even if you continued to play with the nape of his neck, fingers teasing over the spot. The feeling only made him more and more desperate.

But if he was needy, you were nothing but eager to reply, deepening the kiss like you were trying to consume him whole.

"Darling," you mutter, too soft. "Minnie," you groan, holding him to you gently.

But you were too soft, too gentle.

He wanted more, he wanted you.

Unrestrained, doing what you wanted for once, using him like you wanted. Because he wanted it.

Wanted to not be treated like he was a piece of glass, in danger of breaking every moment. He loved how carefully you treated him but now he wanted to be treated rough, he needed to be treated rough.

But he didn't want to say it.

Slowly, he pressed his hips against yours, shuddering at the fizzle of friction sending sparks through his nerves.

"Minho," you sighed, nails scratching against his scalp making him whine. "Darling," with a particularly harsh nip to his lips, almost hard enough to break the skin - that was what he wanted.

A whimper built up in his throat only to be swallowed down. He wasn't that desperate yet. Even if every one of his movements seemed to argue otherwise, finding a clumsy rhythm in grinding against you, replicating and intensifying those sparks.

Building them up to what he hoped was more.

Even if the motions were clumsy and new. Curious but wanting all the same, the way he moved was raw, exploring and ruining. It made his head spin and everything else go foggy.

You dragged your mouth away from his, tugging his head up by his hair to lick your way down his neck.

A lick and an open-mouthed kiss, making him shudder and shake, heat emanating from the areas you touched and the places you pressed together.

Separated by stupid clothes but not enough to stop him.

He must look pathetic the way he thrusts against you, each discordant grind getting more desperate, more sloppy with the skim of your mouth. With the drag of your tongue down his jaw and pulse-point, heart thrumming beneath your lips. With every shockwave of euphoria that tingles down his spine, with every moan and whisper of his name that leaves your lips.

"Minho," "Minnie," "Baby," "Darling,"

His head is too fuzzy to worry about anything else. To think about the needy noises that leave him, he's sure he sounds lewd, and dirty.

From just dry-humping against you.

But it's not enough. He wants you rough and hard and on top of him. Showing him what to do, telling him what to do. To make him feel good, to make you feel good.

He falters imperceptibly. Should he...?

No, he doesn't want to. He can't. Because how is he supposed to ask you to-

He's caught up in his head but his body works on autopilot, reacting to the sensations that are bringing him closer and closer to cumming in his boxers.

Caught up in his thoughts but not so much so that he forgets about you,

and he certainly doesn't miss anything you say, like the words "Such a fucking good boy," nearly growled into his throat, voice husky and ragged as your teeth scrape down his skin.

Good boy?

He freezes. Heat pools deep inside of him, warm and making him painfully, painfully hard. The words push him nearly to the edge, and he can feel himself on the precipice of-

And then he's being shoved back, hard.

Harder than you meant to, but necessary for what you were about to do.

You pant, as does he, both of you flushed and trying to catch the breath stolen from your lungs.

No, no, not when he was finally getting somewhere, not when finally, finally he was getting what he wanted. Not when you were actually unrestrained and-

"I'm sorry."

His gaze snapped to yours.

"What?"

Your lips were red and parted, he was sure his weren't in much better shape. All he wanted to do was kiss them again, and again, and again.

He wants to hear you call him a good boy again.

"I-I'm sorry," you ran your hand through your hair. "I should've...I shouldn't have done that, I'm so sorry Minho." This time you were the one looking away.

"The fuck do you mean?" He snaps. It came out a little harsher than intended, he admits. But really, he was sitting here, horny and pent-up and just wanting to get fucked, and here you were, pushing him away and apologizing?

You blink, slowly, surprised.

And here he is, fuming.

Why won't you just fuck him?

"I'm sorry-" would you just stop saying that? His glare shuts you up. "Um," You only looked confused now, a furrow between your brow.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips. You watch it.

He wishes you'd just make the first move.

Because now he was going to have to say it. Out loud. To you. Not just mumble some nonsense and hope that you'd pick it up.

"I want you." He said simply, inching closer to you.

You nodded but made no move to continue anything. "Okay..." then a sigh. "I'm going to need you to elaborate just a little, Minho."

The flush across his cheeks spreads, down his neck and over his collarbone. Why did you have to look at him like that? Like he was made of glass or something? Like you cared about him so much it made him melt.

Fuck, he loved you.

"Look at me baby." You gently cup his face, turning him to meet your eyes. "You can tell me."

You definitely knew.

He could see it in your eyes, the worry giving way to a teasing look. Now you just wanted to humiliate him huh?

He hated you.

"Shut up."

You smiled, pulling him into your chest again, laying between your legs. Just like you were before. "Well that's not what good boys say, now is it?"

He pulled his face away, burying it into your shoulder to hide from your eyes. "I don't like you." His voice came out muffled into your shirt.

You only scoff out a laugh. "We both know that's not true darling. You love me." Voice dropping to a whisper, you lean into his ear. "Do I make you nervous baby?"

Someone just kill him now.

Put an end to his misery.

"N-no;" his voice still muffled in the fabric of his your shirt. "you're just-"

"Just what?" You challenge, fingers teasing into his hair, the way you know he likes it. "You're a big boy, you can use your words, can't you?"

He shudders and swears he can hear your smirk. "I...- fuck you."

You tug on his hair, making him face you. You swear he has a eye-contact problem. Or maybe he just gets too nervous looking you in the eye.

Either way, he's too adorable not to coo at.

"I was imagining this the either way around, but whatever rocks your boat~" you purr. "All you have to do is tell me what you want."

His hips jolt against yours, heat filling his body. As soon as he does though, your free hand stills his hips, fingertips teasing under the hem of his shirt while you look at him expectantly.

He wants to hide again, but you hold him in place. Pinning him against you, not letting him look away, not letting him move.

He wants you so bad.

"Touch me..." He mutters, and your hand slides just a bit higher on his abdomen, your thighs squeezing just a bit tighter around his hips.

It's over for him. He knows as soon as your lips turn up just a bit more into a coy smile. "Where?"

When he doesn't reply soon enough you skim your hand up and over his ribcage. Breathing growing heavy as your other leaves his hair, trailing down his neck and over his shoulder, slipping just beneath the collar of his shirt.

"Here?"

Such a simple touch makes him feel hot.

"Or here?"

Slowly, your hand under his shirt makes its path towards his chest.

He gasps lightly when your fingers tweak over his nipple, delighting in the way he quivers, rutting against you. You click your tongue at him. "You know, I really can't do anything to you until you tell me what you really want." Lips ghost over his ear, nipping lightly at the shell. "Too bad, really. I could take such good care of a cute little virgin like you~"

His voice cracks under the weight of your touch; trying to clear his throat while biting back a moan. "I'm not cute-"

You cut him off with a kiss, tentatively, like you hadn't stolen his breath with a kiss only minutes ago. Like you're afraid to break him.

But he wants you to break him.

The kiss is too short for his taste but it effectively cuts off his thought process, making him nearly dumb against you. Not dumb enough to not catch the smile against his skin, "I'm not cute." But he sounds so cute. It only makes the smile widen, turning your attention to trail kisses down his neck, murmuring between each press of your lips.

"Yes you are." Kiss.

And for some reason, he can't argue.

"Remember?" Kiss.

"I'm...what was it?" Smile, kiss, lick.

"Intolerable?" A pause, but only for a second, taking the moment to drag your tongue across his throat.

"And you're cute," Stopping to suck on the spot where his pulse thrums, feeling his heart beat under your lips.

"And pretty..." Kissing, once again, over the pretty mark you've left on his pale skin.

"And beautiful...and stunning...and..." you pull away, looking to see his eyes hooded and pupils blown. "...not getting anything more until you can tell me what exactly you want here."

You pinch his nipple one more time before pulling away, leaving him cold, whining, grinding desperately between your legs.

He's hard enough, you wonder if he would've cum in his pants if you hadn't stopped.

"I..." he starts and you wait patiently for him to continue. If you've learned anything about Minho, it's that he's nothing if not embarrassed to voice his wants. Especially the ones like this.

You remember how he blushed and couldn't stop wringing his hands when you worked him up to ask to kiss you for the first time.

The way he couldn't look you in the eye, focusing anywhere else.

But he knows by now, you're nothing if not a tease, willing to play the long game to get him to tell you what he wants.

Fuck you.

Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you.

He's so hard though, it hurts. And his skin nearly burns with the need to be touched, to feel you on him again. And all he wants to do is let you have your way with him.

Something that won't happen until he tells you.

"Please," he whines. Though he knows it's not enough. He just wants you. "Please?" On him, touching him, teasing him, kissing him, consuming him. "I need it." pressing a sloppy kiss to your collarbones. "Just fuck me, I want you so, so bad." He pants, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Wanted you so bad, for forever now."

God, you can't wait to fuck him.

A grin blooms across your face, one that he can barely process. "Thought you'd never ask baby."

Not before you're pushing him onto his back, onto the soft cushions of the couch, switching your positions before crawling on top of him.

"M' gonna make you see stars baby." You purr, and he can do nothing else but nod dumbly, looking up at you with wide eyes like you're something of a goddess on top of him.

And you will make him see stars. Not yet anyway.

His vision goes hazy though as your hands quickly move to pull his shirt over his head, leaning down to kiss him again.

Deep and hard, filled with promises and care.

You lace your fingers with his against the couch cushions as you kiss down his jaw and down his neck and his chest and-

He gasps when you lick over his nipple, wrapping your lips around one to suck on it lightly.

Your tongue swirls around it, free hand tweaking at the other, making sure not to ignore it.

His cock is so hard, he can feel it throbbing in his sweats. He's sure he's already leaked through his underwear.

He swears he could cum from this alone.

"Don't!" He gasps and you pull away quickly, concern etched across your brow before you see his face clouded with pleasure, mouth hung open to let out breathy moans. "Please don't." He squeezes your hand in his. "I'll cum if you keep doing that."

You melt, filled with the overwhelming need to make him cum by just playing with his nipples. How cute he'd look from having his tits played with.

"So sensitive, aren't you?" You coo.

Maybe another day though. Right now, you'll give him what he wants. What he's wanted for 'forever'.

"Shut up," he scowls though it's quickly wiped away when you pinch his nipple one more time, making him gasp.

Finally, you glance down at his sweats, tenting with his boner. "Well someone's excited for me." Seeing you stare at his crotch makes him excited. His already hard cock twitching in his pants. "You're so sensitive for me, aren't you, Min?"

He hates you so much, covering his face with the back of his arm. The fact that you're only telling the truth makes him want to hide his face into your chest again.

But you're too far away, and too focused on watching his boner through his pants, fascinated by how hard you've made him with so little.

"Please," he whispers, but the way you watch him, eyes full of hunger makes him throb even more.

Somehow, he gets a kick out of you just watching him, softly moaning at his eagerness, as he lets out a hushed whisper, "Please. Please y/n, don't tease me like this. I'm already horny." His legs spread open shamelessly.

"Awe, why? Can you not handle it?" You look up at him, at his blushing face and his needy eyes. You wanna kiss him so bad.

And so you do, getting close to his lips, your warm breath tickling him. Your hand runs over his clothed cock, teasing your nails gently over the head of his dick. His eyes widen as you begin to touch him over the fabric.

But your lips quickly silence him as you kiss him again. He moans into it, the feeling of your hand on his cock, stroking him lightly and your lips on his.

Your tongue pushes through his lips as you stroke him a few more times, squeezing him lightly in a way that has his back arching off the bed, pushing into your hand even more.

Panting, you pull back a little. "Such a good boy for me, Minnie." Before you're pinning his hips to the couch and looking at him one more time for conformation.

Then you pull his sweats and boxers down in one swift movement.

And then he does see stars as you slide yourself over his hips, grinding against his bare cock.

He thinks he tells you he loves you, that he worships you, that he adores you more than anyone on this planet. He thinks his hand squeezes yours so hard that you bring it to your lips, kissing his hand and telling him to relax. He thinks you grind against him slow and gingerly, watching to see his reactions.

Like he'd ever tell you to stop.

He'd rather die.

Shoot him in the head if he ever tell you to stop, because it sure as hell isn't him.

Again, he thinks. But he isn't sure. He isn't sure of anything really right now.

His head is a mess of sensations and feelings, whines pouring from his mouth until you kiss him again and again and again.

Whispering that he's a good boy.

He's going to cum, he's going to cum.

Stars explode behind his eyes as they roll back and he isn't even inside of you yet.

And then you stop.

And he thinks tears might be rolling down his cheeks. He needs you, he needs you so fucking bad.

"Please, please, please." He pants, trying to roll his hips up against you, failing to find any contact as you sit back on your haunches, just out of his reach. "Need you," he gasps. "Need you so bad!"

You push sweaty hair out of his face, kissing the back of his hand one more time before you pull away entirely. He whimpers and you coo. "Be patient baby, just need to do something."

He watches blearily as you pull off your shorts and tries to calm his racing heart and heavy breaths as you roll a condom over his length.

"One more minute baby," you hush as you kiss him. "Are you ready?"

He nods desperately, of course he is. He's waiting for this for so long. He's wanted you for so long. He's going to go insane if you don't-

He gasps.

You groan as you slide down his length, slowly burying him inside of you until he bottoms out.

If he though grinding was intense, this was like nothing he could've ever imagined. His mouth gapes open, an endless stream of whiney moans and needy whimpers flooding into the room, feeding into you as you lift up and sink onto his again, groans of your own mixing with his.

He can't think anymore - he doesn't want to. He only wants to fall into the feeling of your walls squeezing around his dick, warm and wet as you ride him and the feeling of your hand once again finding his.

Whispering into his ear that you love him so much as you turn his head into mush

"I…I can-" Minho tries his best to talk, to tell you how good he feels. He really does, but whenever the thought comes to mind, it just gets cut off with the liquid heat coursing through his veins.

By the intense feeling of everything that is you.

He's an idiot for not asking you to fuck him sooner.

"Yeah, baby?" You chuckle breathlessly when he fails to complete his sentence. "You feel yourself inside?" You bring your interlaced fingers to your lower abdomen, "You feel it?"

All he can do is respond with a loud sob as he nods his head to your question, hips bucking up into you, desperate to chase the high quickly approaching ever since you've touched him.

He's not going to last much longer.

"You fit so well inside me," you murmur.

He's going to cum. Of this, he's sure.

"Please!' He hiccups, but he's not sure what he's pleading for. "P-please!" For more? For less? For something - anything to stave off the inevitable, he doesn't want this to end. He doesn't want it to ever end.

You kiss his forehead, his cheeks, his jaw. You flutter kisses over his face, so softly compared to how you're fucking him into the couch so roughly.

"I love you, Minho."

"I love you so much!" He pants and squeezes your hand, his other grabbing onto the nape of your neck as he shoves your lips against his.

He's fucking beautiful, you think. Cute and pretty and beautiful, under you, falling apart.

It's the most gorgeous sight you've ever seen, and he's whining your own name against you lips, pleading between sloppy kisses for you to let him cum, to let him cum for you. 

You show your approval with a collision of lips and teeth and tongue as he tips over the edge and you follow suit. He sobs as he cums, shivering violently as waves of pleasure roll over his body, his back lifting into an arch, pushing himself deep into you with a followed whine.

Each moan and whine are muffled by your tongue pushing into his mouth but his hips still grind as he pushes himself into overstimulation, whining until you have mind enough to still his hips.

For a moment, the two of you are silent, chests heaving, both catching your breath as you pull away, looking at him.

"Minho?" His eyes are shut and his cheeks are painted red. "You okay baby?"

He murmurs something you don't catch, but you don't tease as you push the hair out of his face, sweat-soaked and tired, kissing his forehead once.

You make a move to get up off of him but he only wraps his arms around you, holding you in place. "Don't leave," he whispers, looking up at you with tired eyes. "Just stay, please. For a little bit?"

His sleepy eyes make your heart skip a beat. "Who are you and where's my Minho?" You tease softly, but give in nonetheless.

"Fuck you." But his tone is with filled with anything but malice, as he nuzzles into you like a happy cat.

"I just did." You giggle.

"I love you so much." He mutters, kissing your shoulder. "I love you so fucking much."

"And I love you too."

a/n: I did it ^-^, who's proud of me!! also haven't written reader being penetrated in a looooong time, so if it's shit, oh well :p

pls leave feedback, i need motivation to finish my other teaser fics😭

[bigwishes]

Embarrassed?

Tom sat there staring down at his phone, typing like his life depended on it.

"if this is true I will literally trade anything to get bigger, you can make me a dumb jock, make my dick small, Ill even take being a walking joke, you can take anything you like so long as I can get huge!"

He had stumbled upon a site called "give'n'take" which was claiming that it would allow him to trade something he currently has for something he wanted. He had seen claims from guys claiming to of turned into their dream self over night by giving up something that they never really liked about themselves anyway.

But it was Hard for Tom to pick something he wanted to give up, he had almost won the genetic lottery in his eyes. A fat nine inches down stairs, 6.5ft tall, a good amount of body hair, not enough to be annoying but enough to drive guys wild. Everything had made him a walking stud that oozed confidence with every step. All but one thing that is. Tom had loved bodybuilding ever since he could remember, he loved the look of huge guys and he loved the idea of being one, but on his 23rd birthday he looked in the mirror and saw after years of work he looked nothing like a bodybuilder. sure he had some size but there was no real mass. He just looked like a guy who played sport on the weekend. He wanted to be so much bigger. He got hard imagining himself being the guy who had to turn sideways to get through a door or who rocked up to a house party in gym shorts and an XXL stringer tank top that clung to him like it was about to snap. Unfortunately his height was against him, his long muscle fibers took ages to develop and when they did it was so evenly spread out it didn't look like he had done anything at all.

He'd do anything to be bigger, he'd be happy with anything taken away so long as he was huge. So he left the choice up to the people behind the screen.

---

The next morning Tom woke up and instantly felt strange, he felt off balance some how like his body had gone up 30 pounds over night and when he got up and looked in the mirror he realised...it had.

"HOLY SHIT" Tom yelled out into his empty apartment.

His body had beefed up and become more defined without any more work. He couldn't worship himself for long though as he instantly began investigating to see what had been taken, but it didn't appear like anything was missing at all.

He was still packing, he hadn't shrunk in fact he might of even gained an inch or two and he didn't have any issues remembering anything from his engineering degree or any day to day stuff. The thought crossed his mind that maybe they had forgotten to take something, or maybe because he wanted to be big so badly they cut him a break.

Tom's worries melted away as he smiled and flexed his newly enhanced biceps.

"mmm, not as huge as I was hoping for but I'll keep working on it"

Tom picked up his gym bag and decided to head out to see what his new size could do, and to stick to the habit, he didn't want all this new size to make him forget to work out and end up losing it all in a few months.

Tom arrived at the gym and changed into his workout gear but he looked and felt different was he...bigger? nah, he thought to himself, its just him getting used to being this big although as he stared at his new size in his reflection a new thought entered his mind.

"Maybe this tank top is too tight...I probably shouldn't be such a show off and buy some looser clothes to cover up"

He shook his head and decided to think about it when he got home, right now he just wanted to see how strong he had gotten.

As Tom worked out something weird was happening, he knew how to exhaust his muscle, he new how to overload the weight and really make it feel like work but as he added weight with each set it felt just as easy as the last.

He'd occasionally see his reflection in the mirror wall and he looked like he was getting even bigger, and his tank top felt even tighter than before. Surely it was just the pump he thought to himself as he continued to lift and push his body.

He sat down at the cable row and put the pin almost at the bottom of all the plates, surely this would be a struggle for him. Tom leant back and pulled when suddenly.

Cutcshhhhhhh!

the sound of ripping fabric rung out in his ear as he felt the shoulder strap snap and felt the fabric split across his back.

"aw shit" Tom said as he stood up and took of his shirt.

Immediately he saw his reflection in the mirror, he looked huge. His muscles bulging he couldn't help but pull his gym shorts up and flex, this is what he wanted to be an absolute tank...

but, everyone probably thought he was a dickhead flexing outside of the changing room, he thought to himself. He started to wonder if he was that guy now, the guy who'd workout shirtless and annoy everyone in the gym.

He noticed a few dudes looking at him like they were waiting to get on the machine. His face turned a slight pink on his cheeks and he was flushed with embarrassment.

"oh s-sorry" Tom stuttered as he quickly tried to move out the way

Originally he thought he'd just move on to the next exercise but he realised he was shirtless and bolted for the changing room. Once inside he gazed at his reflection again.

"maybe...I shoulda asked to be just a little smaller, fuck now I gotta walk outta here shirtless"

Tom couldn't get a grip and didn't no what had come over him. He had never felt a shred of embarrassment in his life but now he was worried what people would think about him being shirtless in the gym.

The changing room was empty and Tom took the time for a few more poses before he was gonna make a run for the exit. He flexed his arms as hard as he could and felt the blood rushing into the muscle, but it was strange, the muscle wasn't just pumped up, it was like it was still pumping up. He tilted his head and watch in the mirror, slowly but surely his shoulders and arms were expanding, his chest was filling with mass and size. He saw his already huge legs slowly expanding out into colossal pillars as they stretched his shorts. He could hear the fabric starting to strain and quickly bend down to get his gym bag.

The moment he leant over he heard the changing room echo with a large tearing sound as he felt the tightness relieve across his ass. Tom's face turned bright red as he quickly reaches around to make sure it was just the shorts he had split and not his underwear.

He let out a sigh of relief as he felt his underwear was still in tact, he stood up and took a step hearing has his massive thighs tore and split his shorts with just one step. He was almost at the door when he saw his hulking figure in the mirror.

He stood frozen admiring his huge body, he flexed his entire body at once loving how huge he had become, he noticed his underwear was straining and the fabric was starting to become see through and then he remembered....he had to walk through the gym like this to get out....

A wave of embarrassment washed over him, everyone was gonna be staring at him

Tom quickly grabbed his bag and made a break for it through the busy gym. He had hoped to run but his body was so big that was almost an impossible task, so jogging was next but even just a slight jog left him out of breath and gasping for air. By the time he reached the door he had multiple people staring at him confused as he was huffing and puffing like he had just run a marathon.

He swung open the door to the gym and bumped between two guys that were on their way in. Tom tried to apologise but the only noises that came out were him gasping for air and trying to catch his breath. He flashed a quick apology wave as he climbed into his car which was luckily parked right in front of the entrance.

Tom looked down trying to slow his breathing and catch his breath when he noticed his huge hard on. His dick was like steel, the thought of everyone staring at him....judging him....

Tom started his car trying to ignore it but he heard the two guys he had just bumped into talking, muffled by his window.

"bro did you see that guy, there is just a thing as too big"

Hearing those worse Tom felt a swirl of shame and embarrassment swell in his stomach and work its way to his pelvis as he started taking deep and slow breaths.

"I know right dude, and the way he was so out of breath just walking through the gym, and working out in his underwear? what a loser"

the two men walking into the gym laughing as the door shut behind them

The words echoed in Tom's ears, he couldn't help it, he gripped his steering wheel so tight he thought he was going to break it, he bit his lip and closed his eyes as his dick began to twitch and erupt. Tom let out a pathetic moan as he looked down to see not just his underwear soaked but his car seat and thighs caked in cum.

Tom looked into his rear view mirror, his head, traps and shoulders completely blocking the view, his face was flush as he felt more embarrassed than ever before in his life, He started his car and quickly reversed out.

"god...I'm such..."

His dick instantly got hard again.

"fuck, I'm so big....I'm...too big"

Tom started panting as he drove out of the parking lot.

"I'm a fucking big, freakish, loserrrr--eerruuuuughh!!"

Tom couldn't help unload himself into his underwear and over his car seat thinking about how pathetic he was...

Well...he did say he was happy for them to take anything, His confidence seemed like a fair price.

[lyrefromthesea]

You’re absolutely one of my favourite writers 💙 Please could I request hashira x reader, where the reader looks after the hashira’s family/ those they care for when they are on a long mission 💙💙

Male pillars x reader - family matters

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

who would've expected nearly the entirety of the Uzui family to fall sick? it luckily didn't hit him, but Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma all fell ill.

you would've done it without his pleading, but when he asked you so kindly to take care of his wives, you couldn't say no.

you were in a relationship with them too, it was only right to take care of your loved ones, right?

so when Tengen came home and saw you put wet towels on all their head with the outmost patience, he felt his heart swell with pride.

"i'm back, are you all feeling better?" he asked, looking down at the three sick women. they were cuddled up in their shared bed, not wanting to be alone.

he was glad when he watched them slowly nod and tell him how good you've taken care of them.

"thank you, beautiful.." he said to you, glad that there was someone he could trust. "let me help now."

Obanai:

when Obanai left for a mission and left Kaburamaru with you, he knew you would take care of his friend. however, he didn't expect finding you like this.

you have fallen asleep in the kitchen, your cheek squished against the counter. Kaburamaru had found his place around your neck, as if he wanted to keep you warm.

Iguro looked around, seeing Kaburamaru's food bowl. it was empty, but he knew the snake had eaten today. he could tell by the way Kaburamaru was sleeping with you, having filled his stomach.

furthermore, there was a plate full of food placed near you. he could see another empty plate in the sink, indicating that you've already eaten.

he had told you when he would come back from his mission, figuring that you've prepared the second plate for him.

he looked at you with a gentle gaze, not wanting to wake you up, but knowing you shouldn't sleep in the kitchen. with a quick and careful movement, he had picked you up and carried you to the bedroom.

you had taken care of him and his snake, it was time to take care of you now.

Rengoku:

multiple bottles of liquor stood in front of his family's estate. they were all empty.

he knew those were the bottles his father used to buy, but the man would never place them here.

knowing that you had been staying in his house for the past few days, he figured it would have something to do with you.

"i'm home, dear!" he greeted, happy when he saw you run up to him. perhaps you had been spoiling him too much, but he was used to a kiss on the lips whenever he returned to you.

"first you take my sake away and now this? i'll puke!" Shinjuro scolded you, but you just smiled back at him.

Kyojuro was confused at first, quickly remembering the empty liquor bottles in front the family estate.

"don't pretend like you didn't like the past days! you even played board games with me and Senjuro." you countered, sticking your tongue out.

perhaps it was because you weren't a demon slayer, but Shinjuro could speak to you much more calmly than with others. or maybe it was because you reminded him of the peace of earlier days.

"you did? let's celebrate my return with another board game!" Kyojuro enthusiastically offered, earning a happy nod from you.

"you're going to play as well, right?" you ask Shinjuro, not surprised by him rolling his eyes, knowing he would join you two and Senjuro.

Sanemi:

"is he okay?" Sanemi asked, his fists clenching hard. he was desperate to know about his little brother's state.

when he heard that Genya had been hurt during his fight with a demon, he had wanted to see his brother right away, but he couldn't look him in the eyes anymore.

he knew that Genya hated him for what he had done, he had no right to worry over him now.

naturally, his eyes lit up when he saw you take over the role of a nurse, watching over Genya properly.

"he's doing better." you answered, seeing him quiet down and nod. he felt relief settle in his heart, coming closer to hug you.

his head rested on your shoulder, his arms hanging by his side. his heart was trapped in a mix of guilt and relief.

"you know, he told me that he missed you. you should see him.." you told him, knowing the story the two brothers shared was a sad one.

"no.." he simply said, but you could hear the sorrow in his voice. he probably wanted his brother back as much as Genya wanted him.

"thank you for looking after him.."

Giyuu:

he had trouble revealing his feelings to other people, but when he heard Tanjiro being hurt once again, you noticed the look on his face.

when you told him that you'd temporarily look after the young demon slayer, you saw the man relax slightly. he trusted you and he knew you'd do your best.

he wanted to do his best for you as well, deciding it would only be fair to visit you and Tanjiro now and then.

"Tomioka-san!" Tanjiro beamed, nearly making his way out of the bed, but you held him back, letting him remember that he needed to rest as much as possible.

"Tanjirou, are you feeling better..?" he asked, stepping into the room Tanjirou got assigned. he glanced up at you, seeing a soft smile form on your face.

he made his way towards you while he listened to the boy talk.

"i'm feeling so much better already! [name]-san took great care of me!" Tanjirou said, enthusiastically fiddling with his hands. Giyuu moved to your side, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

"thank you for taking care of him." Giyuu whispered against your ear, turning your head to face him. "i have another mission now, wish me luck, love."

you nodded, knowing that you would pray for his return every day, you just didn't know Tanjirou would speak up again. "Tomioka-san! Tomioka-san!"

naturally, Giyuu hurried out of the room.

Gyomei:

"namu, cat cute.." he mumbled, pressing the small animal against his body in a squeezing hug.

you chuckled quietly, seeing the cat meow and wiggle in an attempt to get out.

you had found it a few days ago, the cat couldn't walk due to it's injured paw. when Gyomei came back that day, he was fine with you keeping the cat until it was healthy.

truthfully, he was more than fine with the addition to his home, especially when he found the cat sitting on one of his shirts a few days later.

he took it as a sign that the cat liked him, first feeding it and then trapping it in his arms.

"was this really a good idea? i feel like the cat is getting more attention than me." you teased, not expecting his strong arm to wrap around you as well, now trapping you in the same hold as the cat.

"you're cute too, don't worry."

[gregorygerwitz]

AITA for coming out at my sister's wedding?

I (32M) recently realized I'm bisexual and I have my first bf (45M), he's a rescue helicopter pilot (this will be relevant later). I'm out to my sister (41F) and my coworkers, including her husband, who I have worked with for years, but not to my parents or most of the other guests. Everyone has joked that I'm a little too close to my best friend (32M), and we might as well get married, but he's straight and has a gf. They're not relevant to this story, but to give context to how much my sexuality probably shouldn't be a surprise, even if it took me by surprise.

I told my sister and her husband I was bringing a plus one, and they both knew my bf, they were supportive of it because he makes me really happy.

Everything kind of started at the bachelor party. It was just me, my brother-in-law, and my best friend, and we did the usual stuff. We stayed a night in a hotel, went out to get drunk, sang some karaoke at our usual spot. It should have been a super chill night. Until my best friend and I lost the groom??? But it way more stressful than The Hangover makes it look.

He'd been taken by these guys who tried to kill him (no, I don't know why) and we didn't realize he was missing until less than an hour before the wedding. My mom kind of threw a fit about us being late, and then blamed me for losing the groom, which is kind of a normal reaction from her. My dad didn't yell as much but again, this is a normal reaction, I'm kind of the disappointment child. Basically, we had to find my brother-in-law because he still needed to marry my sister.

Before anyone worries: they did get married. He's fine. The hospital says they're discharging him tomorrow to go home. They're gonna reschedule their honeymoon so he's well enough to enjoy it.

Long story short, it turned into a rescue mission, and driving would have taken too long, and my best friend suggested we ask my bf to borrow his helicopter again (long story, but we had to borrow him for something a few months ago, it's how we met!) so I asked him for the favor. My mom asked who he was, since my best friend just used his name, and I told her he's my boyfriend, and she freaked out about it.

When we go to the hospital with my brother-in-law, my parents both yelled at and scolded me for taking attention away from the biggest day of my sister's life by pulling some "stunt" with my bf (to SAVE my brother-in-law from being violently murdered), and I think my dad somehow grounded me?

AITA?

[suiana]

(yandere! bully victim x gn! bully reader) (cw: erm... yandere stuff, body horror or whatever its called idk bruh, he kinda carves his name into ur skin but its not mentioned in detail)

"how does it feel to be on the receiving end now, huh?"

you shiver, letting out a strained sound as you trash on the table.

"pluh- mn!"

"what was that? you've got to be clearer with your words, my dear. how do you expect me to understand muffles?"

the male hums, his cold hands dancing across your body. you could only shiver yet again, unable to do anything but remain binded to the table.

"oh, sorry, i forgot you couldn't speak. haha, how silly of me."

yeah, how silly of him to completely gag you so you couldn't speak. how completely silly of him to tie you to some cold table, restraining all your movements so that you couldn't fight back against him. how absolutely whimsical for him to be recording all your grunts, groans, and whines while you were completely restrained.

well, you suppose it's a bit ironic. considering that you were the one doing it to him when the both of you were younger. albeit not on this level.

you wonder if this was how he felt. vulnerable, naked, defenseless.

it happened so long ago, but the wounds you inflicted on him were still fresh. no matter how hard you try apologizing, his scars still bleed warm.

you shouldn't have been mean to him. you really shouldn't. especially when he was so much nicer back then.

"mn... you have no idea how much I've wanted to do this. it really makes me happy to see you so..."

he pauses, eyes raking over your form that was tied down to his table.

"so weak."

we've all watched the movies where the bully gets put in place and completely punished. you used to laugh at those films. i mean, how could the bully even be so stupid to get karma for their actions? couldn't they have hid better? tried making up for it? why did they have to go through the consequences of their actions? what idiots!

but now that it's happening to you, you wish you hadn't said those words.

the second you found out that your ex-victim was your boss, you couldn't even as much as utter a word. no, you felt like you were about to have a mental breakdown. especially because you were now his secretary, working for him.

"come on, what happened to that big, scary, and mean ol' bully that i knew? the one that used to pour water over my head and have their friends restrain me?"

his words have a hunt of condescension- no, they were fully condescending. he was mocking you right now. mocking you for your stupidity, mocking you for your actions. and he was absolutely taking pleasure in seeing you in such a weak and reduced state. a shell of the person you once were.

you couldn't do anything but to take it like the loser you were.

"haha, look at you. all tied down and gagged like the dog you are. why don't you bark for me? maybe I'll be nicer if you act like a stupid bitch in heat."

he laughs, hands resting on your clothed abdomen. his hair falls over his eyes, the usual up kept man looking like a mess as he continues to taunt you.

"you know, when i confessed to liking you, i never expected you to bully me. seriously. i thought you'd be like, I don't know, nice about it. if you were nice I don't think I'd have stalked you and do all this. would've courted you normally until you accepted. I'm a patient guy after all."

the words that come out of his mouth have just the tiniest bit of sadness in them. however, it's completely squashed down by the sharp look in his eyes.

"had i known you'd be such an ass about it... I'd have just taken you for myself right there and then. who cares about having a normal relationship, right? as long as you're with me, it's all that matters."

right, like what he was doing right now. ever since you started working for him he's been constantly... acting like he was your boyfriend rather than your boss. constantly giving you gifts, telling you that it was okay that you bullied him because he knows you're just shy and that he'll make things right... the worst part was when he forbid you from interacting with others.

it was fucking creepy.

things were only worsened when he found you on a night out at a bar, flirting with some random stranger. you had wanted to let loose and relieve some stress but it looks like karma loved to see you suffer.

"what are you doing? are you cheating on me?"

what the fuck?! you stare at your boss in horror, freezing in place. quickly turning back to the stranger you were flirting with, you shake your head and apologize, explaining that your boss was just a little weird. why the hell is he even here?!

"look, I'm sorry but he's a bit of a creep and-"

"my darling, i think it's time we go back home. you've had one too many drinks."

that experience was only the start of an even worser time. one that led him to declare to the whole damn world that you were now his in a fit of anger and mania. i mean, he practically has you locked in his house now. and it wasn't even illegal since you agreed to come.

he had called you to sort out some paperwork or whatever and you being his secretary... you couldn't refuse even if you wanted to. so you made your way to his house, all naive and ignorant of what was to come the second he opened those doors to that luxurious mansion of his.

you passed out and the next thing you knew, you were restrained to the table, gagged and staring at him with a half lidded look in your eyes.

god damn it, you should've known better than to believe this crazy guy's words. why would you willingly go to his place where there'd be no one but you two? ugh, stupid, stupid, stupid.

and now you could only express how terrified you were with your eyes and shivering body.

"how cute. how seriously cute. I've always wanted to see you look at me with that expression."

he coos, lips stretched into a smirk as he leans down to your face. his breath hits your skin, cold hands trailing up your chest and to your jaw before he grips hard.

"you're mine. it wasn't clear when i was just a boy but you've always been mine. since the day i let you bullied me, and even right now, I've made it clear. you're mine, and always will be mine."

he's right, you've always been his. why else would this rich and obviously powerful guy just let you bully him? he could've had you gone the second you made a move on him but instead...

"i still remember the slaps and bruises you left on me. ah... you were so cute back then. hitting me like that. should've scarred me too, maybe then I'd see your horrified face whenever i flashed it."

a sadist. you're sure that he's some sort of sadistic masochist.

"oh well, it's no matter. I've done that job for you."

he pulls away, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal his bare upper body to you. to say that you were completely terrified would be an understatement. because why the hell was your first name (and his last name btw) painfully carved into his other flawless skin? right above his heart, no less!

"isn't it beautiful? you're forever with me now."

his words send a chill down your body. what the hell, you don't want to be with him at all! and it looks like he sensed that but chose to ignore your feelings.

your boss smiles at you before pulling out a small blade from his pants.

oh hell nah.

"it's your turn, darling."

no no no, you don't like where this is going. your body trashes violently against the cold hard table he had you strapped in, pupils blown wide as adrenaline fills your veins.

"mgh! mf!"

"hey hey, quiet down. it's only fair that i get to do it to you, right? consider this my payback. you had your fun and now I'm having mine."

no! shit shit shit, what are you supposed to do?!

you try shaking your head, sweat forming on your skin as your breath grows laboured. your body continues to trash against the bindings, but it looks like the bindings were done just a little too well.

"hm... should i do it somewhere visible? or maybe... right where your heart would be?"

you shake violently, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"nh! mh!"

"aw, is my little darling about to cry? that's so cute. go on, cry for me. cry for me just like i cried for you."

tears fall down your cheeks as he trails the vlade over your clothes. the sharpness of the item has you shivering, cold dread creeping up your spine at the very thought of that anywhere on your skin.

"hm... since you look so scared, I'll carve my initials instead of my full name. how about that? a good offer if i say so myself."

if you could speak, you'd be cursing and begging him to stop. unfortunately that wasn't the case and your boss took your lack of words as the green light.

"don't worry, I'll kiss your pain away afterwards. it'll be over before you know it."

oh god damn it, you really should've just politely rejected him when he confessed.