#*slides this back on the dash bc reasons*

[authorred]

Doctor's Orders | Part 1 | Li Shen/Zayne x fem!Reader | Love and Deepspace |

Preface: As someone who chronically ignores her cardiologist's orders, what happens when that backfires on you worse than normal? Recovering from a life-threatening run-in with a wanderer, it's up to your doctor to put you back together.

This is entirely self-indulgent bc I love this man and this game is so pretty for no reason????? Download that shit (not sponsored, they're just my husbands fr)

Part 2

Warning(s): Mentions of bodily injuries, blood, near-death experience, SPOILERS FOR CHAPTER 5!

You didn’t mean to stumble into another fight—it literally came to you. The aether core in your heart has begun to act up, resulting in you short of breath and lightheaded upon any sort of physical exertion. Your heart rate would increase dramatically in compensation which in turn made your evol act up—it was a shit show. Because of that Doctor Zayne firmly instructed you to rest until the core in your heart settled so tests could be run to determine the stability.

You wish you could’ve followed his orders—and you were, very well—but a wyrmlord’s protofield suddenly appeared around your apartment, trapping everyone and you inside of it. Xavier was gone, and you were the only Hunter stronger enough to fight it; you did everything in your power to ensure no one would get hurt. The Wanderer was strong, and you knew if you went full out your evol could get out of control—not to mention the core in your heart would act up, and you'd go into cardiac arrest.

You look around yourself to the frightened people huddling together as a feeble way to protect themselves from the monstrous metaflux monster. If you weren’t here they’d all be dead within seconds. You made an oath, and you will honor it until all life leaves your body.

Drawing your sword, you slide your hand down the smooth, sharp blade. Tendrils of black coil out and wrap and wind in the air. I’m sorry, Zayne. Please don’t kill me for this. The wyrmlord flies at you and you encase yourself in a layer of darkness, of which it absorbs the impact. You spin the sword between your arms for momentum before stabbing it through the shield, and the darkness follows. It pierces into the wanderer, leaving it to cry out in pain. It's not a difficult fight—this is rather easy for you—well, it would be if your heart wasn't an issue. You're not fighting at 100% capacity. Right now, you're at 67%.

The wyrmlord lets out a shriek before sending spikes of stone and ice to come up from under you. You're forced to move, dashing to the side quickly. One of the spikes nicked you on the outside of your knee, sending it buckling. You trip to your hands and knees but force yourself to keep moving out of the range of the wanderer. With your back essentially turned to it, it takes that opportunity to break from your shadows to lunge at you.

~ There is no such thing as a break at Akso Hospital--not for Zayne, that is. The head of Cardiology, chief cardiac surgeon, and one of the most gifted doctors of his generation has little time to relax, other than what time is granted to him. Though, he seems to enjoy the business of his life. It's not often he complains about his packed schedule and lack of vacation time. He stays professional at all times, never letting his personal feelings mix with his professional ones. He treats all his patients with patience and respect but very rarely is he emotionally involved. The last person he felt personally involved in was your grandmother.

However, he wasn't sure if he could keep his personal feelings out of this particular situation. He heard the paging of a patient being wheeled into the ED but he wasn't the one paged. Walking down one of the many corridors connecting to the ED he caught a glimpse of the person being hauled to the OR and he does a double take. His feet stay rooted to the floor but his eyes stare at the parade of nurses and techs following the gurney. Is that. . .

There is no way for him to confirm it yet--he wasn't the one called for the case. Not able to stick in one place for a long time he forces himself to look away and finish walking to his destination, body feeling light and dizzy. Something inside of him told him to call you—something wasn't right, and he needed to be sure one way or another. When he got to a relatively quiet area, he took out his phone and navigated to your contact under his favorites. The line rang for an agonizingly long time until it finally went to voice mail, of which your voice delicately greeted him with a, 'Sup bitch, I'm either busy or dead. Say what you want now or say it to my gravestone, it depends'. Zayne slowly lowered the phone from his ear—you're supposed to be resting, there's no reason as to why you shouldn't be answering your phone. You always answer him when he calls or texts.

The pit in his stomach sinks deeper into his gut and doubt gnaws at him. Could the person that was just wheeled in for emergency surgery really be you? He'll have to wait until the OR is finished or wait until he's paged. He wishes to the gods it's not you, and if it is, he wishes you'll pull through whatever is wrong.

[another-identityofmine]

Can you write a fanfic about Elvis having sex in front of the mirror with an employer? 🤩

••••••••• 𝕊𝕨𝕖𝕖𝕥 𝕊𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 ••••••••

Summary: Your boss, Mr. Presley, gets fed up with your attitude, bringing you into his office to teach you a lesson. 18+

author’s note: thank you so so much for your request! I haven’t had a spicy one in a while…so this is definitely the first in a long time for many to come! I’m tryna pick up my speed for writing stuff now, but like, nothing can help my slow ass 😭. I’m surprised no one has timed me and ticked off every time I post a request from centuries ago.

author won’t let y’all read bc she’s got a big mouth: jamming to this whole typing, I hope you enjoy. And like I always say, please, if you’re not pleased with it, tell me and I’ll be more than willing to write you another!

warnings: brief insecurity, mirror sex, spitting, light spanking (f receiving), cumming on mirror (m doing), licking cum off mirror, pet names “good girl” and “pretty girl”, tasting one’s juices, public sex (in office but within store with customers present), swearing umm…yup. You may be wondering how the hell I’m able to listen to a smooth tune like this, and write filthy snit…I dunno.

••••••••••••

“And I said, that it’s out of stock.” You scoff and huff at the prissy customer. This whole argument has been on going since the damned lady came up to you with a bitchy attitude about how out of stock of her favorite lipstick.

Her wrinkled, lipstick-stained lips curl and her nose scrunches, pissed off, “Well then why don’t you get fuckin more?” She barks back, jabbing her chunky fingers into a fist on her hips. You glare back at her and open your lips to snap, until you feel a whoosh of air behind you, as if someone has walked up behind you suddenly.

You feel a stiff hand that curls and molds perfectly onto your shoulder, and there’s immediately silence. The customer only scoffs, rolling her eyes and walking away unamused and pissed off. You turn around when the hand loosely slides off of you, so you turn to whoever was behind you.

Mr. Presley. Your eyes widen but you immediately stay composed when you see the frown on those precious lips, and a sigh escape from your boss. “This is the 6th time you’ve upset a customer.” His buttery, honeyed accent speaks out to you, and you just cross your arms over your chest. Ruthlessly, carelessly.

He takes a step closer to you, and you can almost inhale his tangy, spicy cologne that lingers on his suit that he wears. A dark violet v-neck, with a dangling chain that rests against the nestles of chest hair that peaks out. You bite your lip, now he’s definitely got your attention. “I said, this is the 6th time you’ve upset a customer.” He speaks out, more firmly and stern.

You finally raise your chin and glance up at him, with a shrug of your shoulders. “I don’t know what to tell you, they’re all here and gettin’ at me as if it’s my fault the items are out of stock.” You say, standing your ground. He inhales deeply and breathes out, clearly bothered and sick of your attitude. “But the least ya could do, is tell ‘em nicely. Do you not care?” He sighs, and your eyes meet his blue, dashing gaze.

There’s a silence that grows, before he smirks softly and steps a little closer. Your plump breasts nearly touching his broad chest. “Unless, it’s for a different reason?” There’s teasing in his voice. And you purse your lips, “No Mr. Presley, I do care…and besides what other reading could there be?”

A smirk widens on his lips, chuckling lightly, “you could be wanting my attention, huh?” His voice drops to a sultry low. Your cheeks immediately run warm, burning pink. You then decide to cock your hip out slightly with a little “humph”, grazing his hip with yours. “Maybe I am?” You play his game a little further.

You’re suddenly pressed against the wood of his office door, his arms surrounding around your head. He’s dangerously close to your face, breathing hotly against your cheek. “Hun, m’gonna ask ya this okay? Do you wanna go further?” He whispers for consent, finally glancing up into your eyes. With a plead in those blue orbs. You smile and nod slowly, “yes, I do”

You dare, and he gently presses his plump, soft lips to yours. His fine, perfect nose smooshes against yours and he softly groans again the kiss.

He pulls away, breathing heavily through his nose and he smiles. With pink, hot cheeks and a toothy grin, he grabs your hand and guides you to his office chair that’s planted across a large mirror. Plopping down onto the cushion, he pulls you in to snugly sit on his lap.

Lowering your round, tight ass onto his lap. You both glance over at your reflection across, and his eyes fixated on your clothed asscheeks pressing to his growing hard, prominent bulge. He bites his lip and he bucks his hips into your ass, gasping softly at the sweet sensation.

It’s in no time that you both are half naked down, his pants are hung at his calves while you still keep your seat at his lap. He smirks and hooks his smooth, freshly shaven chin to your shoulder. He delicately peels off your panties, and his eyes widen. He stares at the reflection of your beautiful body, while you flutter your eyes closed. insecure.

Your flushed lips that glisten under his office lamp, shadow beneath the locks of curls from maturity. Your dark, wiry, curls of pubic hair. He chomps down onto his lower lip with a mute whine at the back of his throat, as his eyes bore into the delicious sight.

With your eyes still closed, the cool air onto your sensitive parts make you shiver slightly. You stammer out with quick embarrassment, “l-look, I-I uh know, it’s not what uh you like maybe have thought- I-I just d-don’t shave down th-“ with not even the time to explain yourself, you feel his fingers dig into your cheek. “Open your eyes,” he says in a deep, aroused voice. You feel his clothed cock twitch heavily beneath your thigh.

You flicker your eyes open just to have your chin forced to drop down and glance into the mirror. You gasp softly at how wide your legs are open and exposed, your vagina pratically on display for him. “This is what beauty is, ya hear? Dontcha doubt it.” He speaks out firmly, before pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Okay, hunny?” He whispers warmly, his tone a little softer that moment. You nod slowly and he smirks. “That’s better, pretty girl.”

It’s not long til his tip prods at your sticky, wet and warm entrance. Your pubic hair curls and tickles at the shaft of his cock, and the sight alone makes him whimper softly. “Okay pretty girl, wantcha eyes open and on the mirror. Watch me fuck you nice and how a man should, ya hear?” You nod weakly, flickering your eyes up to the cloudy mirror across. The jaw dropping sight ahead.

His hairy, thick and jiggly thighs all spread and between yours to secure your place atop of him. His red tip pressing against the delicate skin of your shiny, wet womanhood. Both glistening from the evident arousal of yours and his. You gulp and swallow before you drool an even messier lake on him.

His fat, red and tender tip slowly enters, and his eyes already roll to the back of his skull from just the feel of your walls engulfing his length into you. “F-fuckkk,” he heaves out and bites his lip toughly. Grabbing your hips to stabilize you, “taste your delicious self, pretty. Taste yourself.” He sneaks a tan hand to your thigh, dipping his fingers between your joined bodies. Your sticky juices gather on his fingers before he finally picks up his head and glares into your eyes through the mirror, ignoring for now the burning and sweet sensation of your pussy. “give ya self a nice good lick, ain’tcha sweet?” You both watch as your pink, wide tongue drags against his fingers. Lapping up your own tangy, yet honey savored arousal. You swear you feel him twitch inside of you, milking out more precum to join your sticky walls. He quickly lingers a hand down, and gathers more arousal to his fingers and brings them to his own lips. He makes sure to create fine contact as he puts them into his lips and sucks them eagerly, moaning at the taste.

“Fucking hell, is this why you wanted my damn attention? To taste this delicious pussy of yours?” He groans out, popping his fingers outta his mouth and wander his wet digits to press directly to your sensitive hooded clit. You nod lazily and he eases his cock into you with a smirk.

His balls press to your pussy lips when he bottoms out and you both string out guttural, throaty moans out of you. His jaw dropped and breathy pants escape his lips as he watches himself fucking into you through the reflection.You can’t help but stare with half-lidded eyes as you slightly jump with every thrust of his.

And he only picks up his pace.

”this why ya being bitchy to them goddamned customers? Ya wanted mah attention didn’tcha?” He gasps out, his fingers hooked onto your meaty hip and he moans. The sticky sounds of his pounding fill the air. He feel one hand release your hip to smack a firm palm to your fine ass.

“answer me! Ya wanted this didntcha? Tell the fucking truth.” He growls through gritted teeth, you both still watching the mirror and panting in sync. You nod vigorously and grip the armrest to the creaky seater. “Yes! Oh gosh, y-yes! I wanted this!” You scream and blurt out, not giving a rat’s ass if customers were just outside his office door. Especially that bitchy old lady.

He smiles and kneads your stinging ass cheek into the palm of his hand, then mapping his hands to the mound of your pubic hair and lightly tap on your sensitive clit. “Pretty good girl, aren’t ya?” He smiles and hums out, rubbing then tight circles on your nub and you immediately throw your head back. He lets you, wanting not to bother you while to watch this mesmerizing image.

His cock sinking in and out in a rhythmic pace, his cock glistening between your spread pussy lips as he quickly stuffs himself back into you. You feel a sweet bubbly sensation in the pit of your stomach, and your vagina wall’s immediately squeeze his cock. He moves his fingers faster against your hood, and you whine out, “oh, s-shit, shit, shit!” Your head rolls back and forth, glancing at the mirror heavily with ragged breaths. And he only goes on.

“Now ya as tight as a Virgin? Gon’ come on my cock like a good girl now right?” Is all he says, before you see stars flooding your vision. Sex has never felt this good, and you don’t know if it’ll ever be again. He rides you through your orgasm, chasing his high.

A loud groan echoes through the room, popping his cock out of your sweet pussy to release spurts on spurts of white, creamy, strings of sperm. There’s a moment, to catch your breath, and your eyes flutter open to meet the sight. The mirror now messy with his seed that drips down slowly. Feeling brave and teasing, you wobbly crawl off his lap to kneel on the floor and lap up his cum on your tongue. You pull away, to swallow and his eyes widen.

He smiles a big one on his handsome face, his blue, now navy blue eyes speak only lust. Clicking his tongue and shaking his head, “now you’re a real good girl, not wasting a drop of my cum now? All’s forgiven. Hell.” He sighs out, his shiny cock soften against the light bush of his dark curls and you only hum softly.

“Sounds good”

••••••••••

Author’s note: How was that folks? Anywho, I feel like the most hard/tiring part of writing is the tags. You gotta make sure it’s in just the right catergory and all that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, mwah!

[kuromi-hoemie]

i wish the fast reblog bubbles were consistent >.> like... I Know i shouldn't develop a muscle memory for them but i DO and i end up putting stuff on the wrong blog p often bc they get shuffled around.

what if instead of floating random bubbles it just had like a popup list u could slide ur finger to - and depending on how many side-blogs u had u could scroll down to share to one of the other ones too by letting go over it.

on that note too just like, having zero control over which specific blogs do(n't) appear in the fast rb bubbles.. i feel like there r actually GOOD useful updates that could be pursued over having a snooze button for live no one asked for and pushing the TumblrTV UI to be applied to all images and videos on the regular dash (that again, no one asked for).

they could also have a much better feature testing/reception workflow than how they currently do things, like maybe ppl who have tumblr labs enabled can do beta testing and give feedback instead of pushing features onto a much larger scale of people and rolling it back, maybe, because of all the backlash over it.

idk. I'm just thinking about the direction of things and how it's been going on here 😐 like The Good Thing about tumblr is its community and wherever we are in the long run we'll make it work, but these days I think A LOT about the thermocline of trust thread and wonder:

how much longer until tumblr hits it bc tbh i can tell the user base is becoming more n more fed up over each change and

what that next platform we're gonna move to will be.

I know tumblr is kind of an anomaly for even lasting as long as it has but i think that's all the more reason to be aware of how fickle things probably are ykwim? i almost wish they WOULD pass that threshold out of spite but also 😬 i love hanging w y'all on here and what we share together so idk. these are just fleeting thoughts.

The trust thermocline thread ↓

[withleeknow]

babe new enha pics dropped over the weekend come swoon with me vm.tiktok.com/ZGevckWUs/

ohh thank you for sharing your nook it's wonderful 🥺🥺 the dichotomy between the bts (💖🧸✨️) and skz (🖤🔗💥 - also that han polaroid?? ohhe'sunreal) cubbies is sending me 😭😭 not me also shamelessly spying your fragrances (my kryptonite is collecting perfumes - i recently spent a solid 15 mins at a diptyque counter being incredibly indecisive no I did not leave with anything, yes I'll be scouring them on ebay 🫡)

lmao I've seen ppl post the edges of the album to spot patterns in the page colour to help ppl acquire their biases and I'm like O_o I respect the effort but lord I simply do not have the willpower

ohhh women really do run the world that was so nice of her 🥺 idk what's going on here esp. in the last few weeks but a lotta crazy things have happened with riots/spikes of violence so it's especially lovely to hear stories of kindness + compassion b/w strangers <3

seeing WT come up on my feed with reposts of praise and love makes me so happy:') 🌱 if it had stayed on the bangtan blog, did you already have a member in mind for it? (I feel like namjoon wld be a particularly fantastic pairing for this story 🐨)

idk if blonde jay's ever been on the rotation but um- here you go tinyurl.com/t2sdf8rj

NOOO you can't do that i've been thinking about them more often lately 😵‍💫 dunno if you’ve seen this but it came up on my explore the other day and i haven’t been the same since. that video did something to me. i am Looking™️ i am sliding down a certain rabbit hole oh my god (i always forget he’s younger than me lol)

lmao you're right i haven't really noticed the difference between the 2 cubbies until you pointed it out 🤣 for some reason i'm really into fragrances now!! i didn't use to be like this, it only happened earlier this year. i feel you with diptyque, i was in the store for like 45 minutes and my friend was being an enabler rip. after i left the store i almost fainted (literally lol) probably bc it was too hot that day but i like to tell people that it was bc that purchase hurt me and my bank account 🤣 the chloe bottle is my newest baby i got it a couple weeks ago, i haven't even taken the plastic off the string thingy yet lol

i also came across those videos! "look out for five tiny dashes on the side for the jay version" i'm laughing at this but catch me doing the exact thing like a crazy person the next time i go back to the store lol. ALSO, were you able to choose the jay ver specifically when you preordered? :o

yeah what's going on in the uk is crazy :/ i hope you're staying safe boo!!

aww 🥺 the original idea i had was for a jungkook fic (i was going through a phase where all of my ideas were about jk lol), basically fwb with a dash of fake dating and it was supposed to be called 'wishing fountains'. it was inspired by a scene from the show 'single parents' actually! but yeah i never really did anything with it but thankfully she's been revived as 'wishful thinking' !! 🥹

UHM HELLO NO I DON'T THINK I'VE EVER SEEN BLONDE JAY. just looked this up and sorry uhm i think i need at least a couple working days to process this..........

[iwaasfairy]

𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙳

rhi, this is for you ♡ remember when you said mafia seijoh and i said i’d write it?? but then i got super distracted with other fics and never did the thing? weLL I FINALLY FINISHED IT. she’s cut up into two parts bc i didn’t want to make it too long but part 2 should be up soon for @yanderexbabydoll​ & massive, big fat ty to @xplosiveboy​ 

.wordc. 3k+ tw mafia!big 4, noncon, sexual harassment, yandere, coercion

horrid pt 2

It was written somewhere in your favorite library, on a vacant page of the grimy literature textbook stuffed between two shelves maybe, you read it just once. Back then you didn’t care much for the radical, unwilling to trust the faith of someone destroying what wasn’t theirs to begin with. Long, curved words littering the white; claiming full of hate that the poison our mind makes is the most powerful decay, that humans are the most horrid of creatures. 

Back then you’d closed the book, sliding it back into place and tucking the knowledge far back into your mind, unwilling to use such a straight-set line of thinking on a world which had given you life, gifted you virtue and loudness. So terrifying; but splendid. You had swallowed, light and unwavering in the knowledge that you were still capable of processing, and giving kindness. You had settled above the cold of those words, thinking them sickly and rotten.

But you didn’t forget, the fire of them on the curve of the page. Or rather, you couldn’t.

It isn’t unlike you to falter in your step, feet rushing ahead faster than your mind can catch up and taking those half-hearted fumbles as just what it needs, before granting you another dash of mindless cadance. Not lost but wanting to reach home a bit faster, slicing off the unnecessary travel so you’d be able to cuddle up in a blanket a second sooner. Even without anything waiting for you on the other end. So you correct your balance for long enough to notice the long straight between brick walls, the direction of it catching your eye more than anything of value. The buildings here are taller, stubbier in their set size and darker, like the grime of the city has never been washed off them. 

You’re small in between, but that has never stopped you before. You wonder if you could take that road, rush it. An alternative for the boring path you’re supposed to take. The monotony aches. You’re young, invincible, not having existed nearly long enough for something truly horrible to happen. Unbalanced, in a way.

But you’re not foolish either, and wasting precious time is the exact opposite of what you want. You bite your lip, carefully crossing the street to peek into the alley. Littered, wet, vacant. Until the breeze picks up and ruffles your hair, calling out for disaster. Unwilted flowers and those dusted grey to the core aching to meet, to make the balance even. 

A show of red, white and black in the form of a man, and one that has your chest craving to be leveled with his. It isn’t that you haven’t been blown away by beauty before, but equality is something else entirely. Those things are weighty in their presence, heavy enough to break your reasoning and to have you rolling forward without will of your own. The heavy-set darkness of his eyes, his hair, his dress shirt. As if he wants to melt into the background, yet everything about him seems to demand attention. The bony points of his hands and fingers are bloodied, chafed and red shows through the split skin where his nose is lowest. But he fuels your wonder with a dignity, leaning against the metal door just as practiced as the cigarette held between his lips.

Never would you be more aware of your foolishness than looking back on that instant. But sadly you only figure that out long after you allow your body to drift towards him. Your kindness hasn’t failed you yet. It does crumble slightly when the weight of his gaze falls on you, staring your way like you’re a broken record disturbing his peace. But even in your clumsy approach you are obviously good and innocent, dragging closer. The pitter-patter of your feet against the wet concrete is shy, it drips from your lips. And beasts hidden in the cracks of society always sniff out that kind of virtue. “Excuse me,” you say. “Do you know where this alley leads?” 

It’s a silly thing, more close to an excuse to speak than true curiosity but it has his mind churning. He blows out a white cloud beside your face, picking the destructive thing from between his lips with a tick of his brow. The tilt of his head in the way you had motioned leaves you tense, used breath building in your lungs, your tongue rubbing on the roof of your mouth like it has something to scrub away. “Don’t think you wanna go that way,” he simply says, eyeing you up and down with the languid movements of a lioness not yet bothering to stretch her muscles, “it’s dark and scary down there.” The glint in his hazel-greens should remind you of water pulling far back from the beach. It does remind you of it, but for reasons beyond you it doesn’t quite click.

So you puff out your chest, basking in the tiny bit of confidence you house to nod. “I think I can handle it,” you smile. As you consider your chances of making it to the other end, a feeling of irony comes to press on your shoulder. Sucking at the brave front until you’re all but left a shivering deer on two dainty legs. It feels colder here than it did on the main street.

So you look back only once at the handsome stranger, bowing in gratitude. “T-thank you, I— I’ll be going now.” Polite despite the tremble you feel, you were raised to be good. He only tilts his head in response, choosing silence the moment you wish for anything else, but you too are at a sudden loss. You turn on your heel and start tiptoeing away from the vast security of the street to drown yourself in sudden doubt in your ability. Most times you experience the opposite. You know the feeling of living, breathing with no worry, well and polishing your renewed understanding only later.

But the path his eyes take in chase of your body has a stickiness, and you can’t help but imagine he has already eaten you up in his mind, walking away with sweat on your palms. Two bangs sound against the metal, leaving you skittishly darting forward with your nails pulled into your palms. It’d be easier to pretend to be strong if you had a bit more faith in your own destructive power. Should you be a monster of preposterous size in the body of a cowering young woman, it’d be easy to push away the need to check, to make sure that you are not under threat. But you’re painfully human, so you glance over your shoulder anyway.

The handsome man has already slipped back into the building, but the memory of his expression gives you goosebumps. A reminder that humans are greedy in nature even when you don’t want them to be. You let the tense air out between parted lips, continuing down the wet curve of the buildings until a creak up ahead calls your attention. Against the darkness where another door swings open, two figures come out into the chill of the falling evening. You envy them for a moment, as they are not alone and you are, but then your feet halt to let your thoughts churn. The men, one with pretty, brown hair and the other a strawberry blond color, don’t need to search to find what they are looking for. The sharp eyes are turned your way the moment they exit the bruised building.

And you blink a few times, before taking a step back in the narrow space. They stand at the door with a stony confidence. Running now is definitely proof that you are not as brave as you pretended, but you can’t help it. With a deep breath you turn back, suddenly feeling hurried. No one reason could be good enough to put yourself into the jaw of an animal willingly, definitely not one as feeble as yours. You scurry back around the corner with a speed that would go unnoticed by most, but still you have to stable yourself again when you connect with another body. It catches you, wraps a large hand around your arm and you look up to express your gratitude by habit.

It’s another tall person, dark curly hair and a surprised expression. Something about his touch is debasing, seeming to latch onto every single one of your fibers. If it had only been this, it would leave you starving, your greedy heart categorizing everything under love at first sight— though you are barely old enough to have liked properly. But the contact is too long to sit well, your body straightening from him as best you can. “S-sorry,” you begin, silencing yourself with a gasp. The brunet of earlier, as well as the other two are upon you already, the presence of four men surrounding you so suddenly a frightening thing. “I- I’m sorry,” you mumble again, though it is lost in the intrigued gazes. They crowd around you before you can think of what you should do.

One of them shoots you a grin bright as the sun, leaning over your shoulder to come into view. “Look at you being the gentleman, Mattsun. You saved the cute girl from falling down!” You are still held onto by the curly haired man, who shrugs off the compliment with an indifferent expression. The cheerful one clicks his tongue, before rounding back on you with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. The weightlessness he carries reminds you of something out of a fairy tale. Bright, obnoxiously cheerful. “What are you doing here, gorgeous? How old are you, you in college?” Voice lithe, sweet on your tongue like honey.

So you try to straighten up, dropping your lip from between your teeth. “Y-yes,” you say, to be interrupted by another voice. This one is more familiar, the first of the few. Tanned skin, handsome at every angle.

“All alone like this?” he breathes, “you must be pretty brave.” With an endless intrigue laced in his eyes, you’re pulled closer to the man with dark, spiky hair by your free hand. You stumble forward with the sudden shift. If you were ever an angel, your wings are useless now. And something tells you these men will make sure that soon they’ll be no more. He only smiles when you have to steady yourself on his chest with gentle fingertips, keeping you close to his warm body. But eager, it plays on his lips like you’re the thing he’s been looking to find for hours, maybe days. He lets out a chuckle at your dumbfounded expression. “I’m Iwaizumi, that’s Hanamaki and Matsukawa.” He waits a moment, smiling wider when you don’t show any recognition at it. “What’s your name?”

You’re so overwhelmed that it’s hard to even sound out the syllables. Your name doesn’t matter, you don’t disillusion yourself to think any of it matters, truly. But the looks remain even when you hesitate, and you find yourself speaking aloud. Though you barely get your name past your lips before you’re turned around by your shoulder, your response setting them alight. You’re left glancing up into a happy grin and pink hair. “You’re dressed up pretty. Nice skirt,” he coos, picking at the edge of it just once before leaning his face a bit closer to yours. “You’re pretty all over, you know that? Really pretty,” he draws out the sound until it sounds almost comical. “Right, Mattsun?” 

You believe him when he says it, he looks at you like you’re shining, reflecting light like a diamond. The compliment, not your first but never truer, stews in your veins and boils your blood. There’s a vague hum from behind you, the man who caught you in your fall putting his big hands on your shoulders. Content to be near, if for a moment. With your constantly shifting gaze, you miss the lines on their hands and arms, the overwhelming smell of different colognes mixed with the smell of blood. “Not gonna say ‘thank you’?” He pouts.

“Tha—” 

“Be nice, Makki!” The voice drowns out yours. “She’s just flustered. Right?” The unintroduced man smiles down at you again, his pretty face coming so close you can feel hit breaths tickle your cheeks. Kind or not, you jerk back instinctively. He continues, unbothered. “Sweet girls like her aren’t used to this. But we’re not so bad, I promise.” His pretty hand comes up to brush your hair back, cooing when your skin turns up the degrees more. Stupid, silly, your mind screams; it’s like your feet have been cemented to the floor. Like you’ve been here for centuries, and finally someone’s come to worship you.

Though his hand is shoved away from you rather harshly, with a frown. “Oi,” Iwaizumi growls, “let us do it ourselves, Oikawa.” He turns back to you with a certitude, closer and though you try to back away you’re only met with the hard lines of the person behind you. Mattsun still has his hands on your shoulders, rubbing comforting circles into the thin fabric of your blouse. Quiet, but not forgotten. You don’t dare look away from Iwaizumi though, his pretty eyes dark enough to make your heart jump uncomfortably against your ribcage. “He’s right though,” the noiret’s voice sinks low, “we’re not so bad. I think you’d like to see, huh?”

The words feel claustrophobic, your eyes widening. You glance at their faces in confusion, switching between each person quick enough to make you dizzy. “Uhm- I,” you stutter, but a brush up your leg has you gaping, frozen. “I don’t-” The cold fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, too high.

“Of course she does, look how nervous she looks.” Makki is so close now he’s molded to your side, the other men not far behind. “So precious,” he coos. “Here, take my hand for a second.” It is put in your field of vision like a peace offering, the breaths on your neck feeling suffocating. But with his long fingers opened invitingly, it’s almost easy to believe they have good intentions. You give in and drop your smaller hand in his, if only to get rid of the revering stare. Hiro grins wider though, and laces your fingers with his. He giggles, softly. “Like this, isn’t it so easy to just,” he drops your interlaced hands to brush up against his crotch, “put them here.” Every muscle in your body seems to quiver, but spun too tight to move. “You like it, right?” he taunts when you look down at the floor, holding your hand in place stubbornly. “Eheh, I can tell.”

“W-please stop,” you try to pull away, but the grip on your hand only tightens, thumb pressing down hard enough that you jerk back from the pain. “Aw, aw!” It’s painful, like your bone will shatter if he moves wrong, and the harder you pull back the more he clamps down. “That hurts!” you gasp, turning away in Issei’s hold.

“Such a good girl, look at you,” Iwaizumi says, his hands sliding around your waist to secure you a spot against him. You’re struggling now but there’s hands all over. More touch, more overwhelming motions to keep you near. You’re tucked into Mattsun’s chest, each swell of his chest brushing against your shoulder blades. And your cheek is pressed against a face, someone who starts pressing small kisses there. “You’re precious, I could just eat you right up.” Hajime grabs your face to turn it more towards him. On the inside you want to bare your teeth, show your claws and rip yourself out of the fragile shell, but then he presses a kiss to your forehead and all your fight sinks away. You were never the warlike type. You’re small, frightened and worst of all, cowardly. He smiles over your shoulder. “Right?”

“I’m sure she’d like that,” the tallest behind you grins, his deep voice shaking your body in his hold. “Just look at her.” One of his hands slips under the edge of your blouse, sparking like a smoldering ember. Though you start whimpering in their arms, he smiles. “Are you scared, little girl?” he chuckles, hovering his lips over your ear long enough to give you goosebumps. Your breathing is laboured, unable to stop the whimper that comes out.

“Pretty face, pretty hands, pretty legs,” Hanamaki names, his lips glued to the curve of your neck, “I bet you have a pretty tummy too.” He slips his free hand easily under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it away from your skin and you try to push him away to no avail. Though the pressure of his grip on you is anything but playful, he’s grinning like there’s no worry in his mind. “And pretty tits.”

“Guys,” Oikawa breaks the moment to motion his head towards the door then, already holding it open as the stroking continues. “If you would, please.” They’re suddenly pulling away from you, all but Mattsun who turns you in his hold and wraps your arms around his body, picking you up. His large hands under your butt, he chuckles when you gasp at the touch. Your arms are pulled over Issei’s shoulders and grabbed tight, forcing you in place.

You’d been overwhelmed, stunned and frightened, but when Iwa looks at you like you’re a new toy he can’t wait to use, to break; the building feeling shifts into something else. Terror.

“No, no, nononono,” you start pulling back against the brunet, looking around at the four men with big eyes. You try to kick your legs so that he’ll drop you, get fed up, anything. But he carries you into the building without a problem, much stronger than your pitiful attempt. “I have to get home, I can’t come with you,” you squeak, bristling when someone laughs. It’s a mean sound, cold and vicious and it makes your faltering heart drop. There’s an explosion of— some emotion or other, a stutter in your capacity to take in the world. You can only open your eyes wider, hoping that some sense comes through with it. 

Excitement and fear always have a similar taste on your tongue, close enough in their thickness to mistake one for the other until it crawls out of your throat with a violent gasp for life. But this is more bitter, a feeling you recognize as panic too late.

“Let go! Let me go!! I don’t want to be here,” you rasp, the feeling slipping out in tears of stress at the corners of your eyes. The door is shut, casting you and them in darkness together.

“Yes, you do.” It’s Oikawa, though you can’t see him. The touch dragging up your back is enough to leave you with shivers. “We’re only going to take a second of your time, promise.” You’re carried deeper into this hall, the cold and draft the least of your worries. Part of you wants to scream, wants to bite and kick until you’re out of the door and as far away from them as you can. But a bigger part of you is more afraid of what they’ll do in retaliation, so you just bite your lip and try to control your tears.

“Hey, we promise,” the strawberry blond echoes, slipping around the tallest to shove his lips to yours. A deep rumble comes from his chest when you tilt your head away from him and against Mattsun’s neck instead. But he’s undeterred, instead pressing a few kisses to your wrist. “We’ll take real good care of you.” You can’t shake the feeling that their promises count for nothing. And as his long, scarred fingers tangle with yours like a mimicry of comfort, you can’t help but wonder. If those words on that page were written with so much conviction because the thing penning them down was the same as these men. Beastly, ungrateful monsters.

//

part 2 coming soon

[runawaymun]

Hey there! I love your writing ❤️ Could I please request something fluffy for Lindir, with a reader that is like really though on the outside as a defense mechanism, bc she had a bad childhood. But with him she's very sweet and caring. I hope it's ok, and thank you!

Fem!Reader x Lindir - Porcupine

genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, romance - with a dash of mild angst because I can’t help myself.  warnings: Just a mild reader injury and implications of a less-than-stellar childhood, per the prompt.  for: @who-ever-said-i-was-nice reader pronouns: she/her Sindarin translations:  Uchnuad - stupid thalielen mell nín - my beloved champion

“It does not hurt,” you insist. 

Glorfindel looks so mournfully penitent and you want to smack that expression off his face. Of course, your shoulder does hurt where he’d knocked you back during your sparring match, but it’s second nature to ignore it and you’ll be fine in a minute anyway. He’s working on you with your footwork and the last thing you want is to be babied. 

“Should I walk you to the healing halls? Maybe to Lia, or Lord Elrond--?”

“--Glorfindel! I am fine.” It comes out sharper than you had intended, and he winces. “Can we get on with the match?” 

Reluctantly, he takes up his training sword again and you yours. By the end you’re sweaty and your knuckles are bruised and a little bloody from where Glorfindel landed a hit, but you’re getting better at your footwork and making it harder for him to strike, and the more it hurts the more fiercely you ignore it until eventually he ends the match for both of you. 

“I can keep going.” 

“No,” Glorfindel lowers his sword and steps away from you. “You will stop.” 

“Uchnuad,” you mutter as you stalk out. Two of the other elves sparring in the training yard give you apprehensive stares, unable to believe that you’ve called the balrog slayer stupid. That was the other thing: the more pain you were in, the spikier you got. You put your training sword away and kept your face purposefully neutral as you went up to your room to wash up. 

Maybe you hate yourself a little bit, but you’re not sure if that’s because of the weakness or how mean you get to everyone when you sense that you might be vulnerable. The longer you stay in Imladris, the harder it is to keep wearing your shell, but relinquishing it scares you. It has served you well since you were small.

Lindir’s in your bedroom when you reach it, dusting an already-clean bookshelf. He’s hyper-focused on it and doesn’t turn to look at you, instead asking:

“How did your training go?”

“Fine,” you grumble, unbuckling your boots so you don’t track mud in. He hates that so much. 

He looks up and his eyes grow round and luminous. “You’re hurt.”

“Fuck it all! I am fine! I won’t break!” you exclaim, yanking one boot off and hurling it to where it goes next to the door.

He flinches at the profanity. You’re not sure you’ve ever even heard Elvish soldiers swear, let alone sweet, proper, anxious Lindir. You hate the flinch. You hate that you’re the reason for it, even though it isn’t anything like your flinches whenever someone reaches for you too quickly or raises their voice.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, standing awkwardly at the threshold and feeling like an intruder. You bend to slide off your other boot and collect its twin from where you’ve thrown it and set them both neatly by the door. Satisfied that you won’t track dirt onto his clean floor, you come over and take his hand in your own and bring it up to your mouth to kiss his knuckles, then his palm. “I’m sorry,” you say again. “I just don’t like people fussing over me, is all.” 

“Then I fear you are in the wrong place,” he says, voice warm with shy humor. He squeezes your hand. “Lord Elrond so likes to take care of people and Glorfindel is the most overprotective ellon I know, and I-- I am just about the fussiest, neurotic creature--” 

“--I love it,” you interrupt before he can slide down some self-depreciative slope. 

His small, pink mouth opens in a little surprised ‘o’ and he blushes to the tips of his perfect ears. You link your arms around his trim waist and draw him close to you, resting your forehead against his. 

“And I think you’re just about the only person who I’d let fuss over me.”

He shifts to press an adoring kiss to your forehead and his eyes fall to the mud splattered on the front of your breastplate and he can’t help but use his cleaning cloth to polish it off. 

“Then allow me to fuss, thalielen mell nín.” 

[peach-the-owl]

How about a child of the Nein with fjord where when their with Avantika and she tries to get rid of reader bc Ukotoa told her to?

I was struck with sudden energy and with it finally wrote this.

DISTRACTION… PUNISH… BAIT…

Child of the Nein (Fjord & Child!Reader)

The boat swayed from side to side as the rain beat itself against it, you were helping Fjord tighten down some of the knots, making sure nothing would come loose and send you off course (I don’t know a lot about boats and boat safety so I’m kinda just winging it here).

“That’s the last of it, we should head below deck with the others and catch on some rest.” Fjord calls, giving the knot a few more tugs to be sure it was secure.

“I’ll meet you there I haven’t finished mine yet.” You call back, adjusting the rope in your hands.

“You sure you don’t want me to wait for you?” Fjord asks walking over, you nod and shoo him away hearing him sigh. “Alright, just don’t be too long, storms starting to pick up.” You take a quick glance at the sky seeing the already grey clouds darken more as the rain comes down a little harder. Once Fjord heads below deck you refocus yourself on your rope, knotting it as tightly as you could and giving it some hard tugs to make sure it was secure.

“Finally finished?” The sudden voice makes you jump, sliding a little on the wet wooden boards. You look up to see none other then Avantika looking down on you with an even stare that makes your skin crawl.

“Sure am, I'll just take my leave-“

“Not so fast, Bait!” Like the lightning that splits the sky, she stops you from leaving, the word she uses to refer to you freezing you in place as you look at her in fear remembering your nightmare a few nights ago. “Ahh, so you’re aware of the words meaning… good.” She stalks towards you, you turn to dash away but once again but she’s faster at grabbing you by your hair, harshly tugging you back.

“Let me go! I didn’t do anything wrong!” You start to panic, struggling to free yourself but she just grips you by the collar of your shirt and lifts you up so you’re at eye level with her.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she says with a scarily calm voice. “But I should thank you as well. Because of you Uk’otoa finally spoke to me, telling me you are jeopardizing our goals.”

“No! No I haven’t! Please, just let me go!” You cry as you squirm frantically while she walks to the edge of the ship, holding you out over the dark, wild water below, waves crashing up higher as if ready to swallow you into the abyss.

“Distraction!” She starts, loosening her grip.

“No no no!” You really wished you had a weapon on you.

“Punish!” Her grip loosens more, making you grip her arm to try and keep from falling.

“Please stop! Someone help!” You shriek, but it feels like the wind just cuts away your words.

“Bait…” You squeeze your eyes shut, tears mixing with the rain that beats down on the both of you, ready for the worst.

“Hold it right there!” The new, but very familiar voice has Avantika tightening her grip on you once more. Daring yourself to peek you see Fjord holding a sword to her neck, not even his usual Falchion which somehow makes you feel relieved. “Now you’re going to place them back on the deck nice and easy.” He says slowly, voice low and tense.

“You’re making a mistake, Fjord. This child distracts you from our true objective.” Avantika tries to reason.

“I said put them down.” Fjord stares daggers at her, not once faltering in his stance as she finally starts to back you away from what was almost your watery grave. She pulls you closer for a second.

“Don’t think this is over.” She whispers to you, finally setting you down and marching away. Your legs give out on you as you collapse to the floor shaking, Fjord’s instantly at your side.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? What happened?” He asks as he starts checking you over to make sure there’s no serious damage done to you. Unable to form any words at the moment you latch yourself onto him and start cry more, not worried about getting him wet with tears since you were both soaked from the rain already. He wraps his arms around you securely as he hushes you calmly. “It’s alright, everything’s going to be alright. I promised you I’d let nothing bad happen to you and I intent to keep that promise…”

You wanted to believe him, and for a while you did. So why now? Avantika was gone, the crystal was secure in Caleb’s amber vault and Fjord was no longer under Uk’otoa’s grip. So why was it that now, while you set sail for Eiselcross, that Avantika’s words start to echo in your mind again? Why was there this feeling of dread you couldn’t quite shake off? You hoped it was just all in your head, but it was like a voice in the back of your mind kept respecting the same thing over and over again.

“… DISTRACTION… PUNISH… BAIT…”

[itsbeaconhillsbaby]

shatter us || tom holland x reader

a/n: hello gorgeous people. this is not the cutesy road trip fic that I have planned - the follow up for a luminous love. but instead just a little sprinkle, little dash of some angst for your casual sunday. yikes, I hope you all still enjoy (still ends fluffy bc I'm not a heathen...yet) 

since I love hearing your thoughts so much, is there anything you’d personally like to see from me, alongside what i’m working on? hit me up and I might just work on some fic for you, got a full week off work so let me know! as always, stay wonderful and come chat! x 

word count: 2166 warnings: we do have a swear and some smashed glass, some sad thoughts but nothing too dark or dangerous - very tame summary: emotional outbursts lead to some much needed conversations

6:10.

There was a lack of chirping birds that morning. The sun stayed behind the clouds, keeping itself out of view. The air cold and stale. Sheets were pulled taught at either end of the bed. Two bodies, usually yearning to be held in each other’s embrace clutching instead to their designated edges.

You were fearful to exhale your breath, one small movement and this frozen moment could all come crashing down around you. As though you were stood at the very edge of a precipice, toes hanging over the side. One tiny blow away from tumbling into a dark abyss.

Before you thought your chest was going to explode from the inside, you felt the springs next to you dip only slightly. The signs of someone moving.

He hadn’t moved all night. You wondered if he’d managed to catch any sleep at all before you felt the bed dip further as he untangled his legs from the sheets, heading into the en suite bathroom.

You reached a hand out from your cocoon, your phone lighting up as you tilted it towards you.

10 missed calls.

15 texts

You’d told your best friend that you’d screwed everything up, unwilling to reveal what happened before you let your tears lull to into a restless sleep.

You weren’t sure at what time Tom joined you. Sighing, you heard the click of your phone locking as you lay it back down.

Tom comes back out of the bathroom, slowing slightly as he sees you curled up in the corner of the bed instead of star-fished or snuggling into his pillow as you usually did when he left the room – resulting in playfighting or cuddles.

“I think we need to talk.”

His voice was rough and scratchy. You slid yourself up against the headboard, pulling your jumper sleeves over your hands and nodding in agreement. You couldn’t speak yet, you weren’t sure you knew how. Words refusing to form as your stomach churned.

“Okay, I’ll see you downstairs then.” He grabs a hoodie of his own before leaving the room, you could hear him moving through the flat.

You take a few deep breaths, taking note of the room around you. glancing over the space you had shared for the past year and a half. Something told you this could be the last morning you’d wake up here.

Exhaling, you slide your feet onto the golden wood crossing the room to reach the bathroom. You splash water over your face, fluffy towel ready to catch the droplets before finishing up.

“Here we go,” you mumble to yourself as you push against the sink counter and head for the kitchen.

////

Tom fills up the kettle, unfocussed eyes staring into the distance. He put it back on its stand before flicking down the switch.

A hand ran through his messy bed head of curls. This was all so wrong, all of it. He told you that he wanted to talk but as he routinely made two teas, he didn’t have a clue what he was going to say. But he began filming in four days and you both had to fix this tension between you. For the first time, you were both unsure of what the outcome would be. 

Taking a small brush and pan over to the wall he brushes up the broken glass, hearing it tinkle as he gathers it into the pan, releasing it into the bin, frustrated at his own outburst the previous night.

He’s against the counter stirring the two mugs when you walk in. He motions to the sofa.

He takes you in as you stand in front of him, shyer and more nervous that he’d ever seen you. He hated that you felt like that. Drowning in one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his cotton shorts, your face was tinged pink and he hoped that you hadn’t been crying in the short time it took to make your teas.

You gave a small smile of thanks at the steaming mug he slid across to you before heading to the sofa. You rolled your shoulders, caressing the mug between your hands - letting the heat warm them.

“I’m so sorry-“

“I’m so sorry-“

You both blurt out simultaneously. His eyes twinkle slightly, as he huffed out a slight chuckle.

“Well that’s a good start at least.”

You nod, stifling a nervous laugh, mouth upturned. He offers you to go first. You take a sip of your tea, letting it soothe your nauseous stomach.

Swallowing, you trace your finger around the rim of your mug. Closing your eyes for a single moment before staring into his, so wide and filled with hurt.

Last night played on repeat in your head.

“Stop saying you love me as a response for when things get too hard - it’s just words Tom! Just because you love me doesn’t mean that I feel loved by you!”

Tom’s mouth fell open, eyes wide as he stood transfixed on you. You stared at him in shock, completely taken aback by your own outburst. The room was blanketed in an unforgiving silence, your voice wobbling at the building honesty that had come tumbling out.

“Wow. I offered to fly you out to be with me before filming officially started for fucks sake! You declined! Was that not enough for you?! Does that not show you I love you? My career is important and I’m sorry that annoys you!”

“That is not what I meant Tom, and you know it.”

His brows furrow, eyes darkening with anger. You wanted to straighten them out with your fingers, lightly gliding over the uncontrollable hairs and press a feathery light kiss in the space between them. Something you usually did when he was tense or frustrated.

“Please, enlighten me then.”

“Fly across the other side of the world to do what?! Sit in silence in a room with you as you read over scripts with Harry. Sit alone in a room whilst you meet the cast and team, stay away so you can go for your lush dinners and lunches. And then fly out when things get underway, that’s unless I want to sit in your trailer day in and day out. I love you Tom and I support you and I think you’re brilliant - I always will think that. But being your hidden girlfriend is exhausting and lonely, and I don’t know if I can do it!”

You’ve never been this vulnerable with Tom before. You’d never let on before how hard it could be sometimes being his girlfriend, how utterly alone you felt. How much of a stranger you felt in regards to Tom and parts of his life.

“Then don’t! If you hate it so much, then don’t be my girlfriend then. Problem solved!”

You gasp slightly, standing completely rigid. Heart pounding in your ears, heat rising through your entire body. You can feel the moisture building behind your eyes, trying so hard to keep it at bay.

“Fine. Wow. Easy fix for the golden boy, got it.”

And with that you turn on your heel and head straight into the bedroom. Door slamming behind you.

Tom throws his beer bottle at the opposite wall. Hands going straight up to his face as he let out a cry of frustration. Glass shards littering the floor.

“Fuck!”

////

“I’m so sorry for saying what I said. It didn’t come out right and I don’t know, I think I was just being dramatic and anno-“

Tom cuts you off with a shake of his head, resting one hand on your leg.

“Don’t do that. Please don’t do that. My response was completely irrational, but you...you were honest and hurt and valid. Do not deny your emotions to make me feel better, that’s not going to fix this. You know I love you, you said it yourself, but you don’t feel loved - and that’s on me.”

You bite the inside of your lip, looking down into your swirling cup. Your heart was beating so fast, it was making you feel almost dizzy. 

“I feel pathetic, please let’s just forget it happened Tom.”

Tom takes the cup out of your hand, planting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. He pulls your legs that little bit closer, your body moving forward, closing the gap between you both.

“I can’t forget it. I’ve been playing it on repeat all night. Please just be honest with me. I want to listen. I want to understand.”

You exhale a shaky sigh,

“Sometimes it’s just so much harder than I ever thought it would be, Tom. I love how much you adore your job, you inspire me every single day as I watch you inspire millions of people. but sometimes I feel like an outsider looking in on your life. Instead of feeling like someone you want to share your life with, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hate that.”

He nods, his forehead creasing slightly as he takes in your words, and presses for you to continue,

“And take away all that comes with your job. On the rare days when it’s just me and you, you make me feel so alive. I feel needed and wanted and loved. So loved. But it’s not enough for me to have a few gulps of that feeling. God, it sounds so selfish. I hear it from my own mouth and I sound ridiculous.”

You take a pause. wishing for your voice to straighten out. For that wobble to stop as you can see the concern on Tom’s face rising,

“Maybe there’s been a reason we’ve kept it a secret for so long, because you and I both know that the minute this gets out...everything is going to crumble beneath us, and I’m the one not going to be able to handle it.”

You let out a shaky breath, sniffling as you wipe your eyes with your sleeve.

When you didn’t start up again, Tom gave a deep sigh, before pressing ahead,

“I’ve been doing this all wrong. I thought keeping you out of things would protect you, we agreed on that being the best option. And in the beginning it was. The sneaking around, the constant phone calls, video calls, surprise visits - we did it all.”

You nod in agreement. Your heart sinking. Even though you’d brought it on yourself, letting your insecurities and loneliness take over - you still weren’t ready for the inevitable goodbye that was coming your way.

“But we’ve grown individually, and our relationship has grown. And yeah, there’s a part of me who still wants to keep you all to myself, I know what press and fans can be like. But you’re right.”

You look up at him through wet eyelashes. He catches a tear with his thumb, wiping it away from your cheek,

“I’m not losing you to my own fear. And you’re not losing me to yours.”

“Wait, what?” you whisper, confused.

“You need to talk to me. You need to tell me when I’m not pulling my weight in this relationship, when you’re feeling low like this. Sometimes I do get stuck in my own world a little...and you’re the one suffering for it.”

“So. You do still want me as your girlfriend?” More traitorous tears fall from your eyes, your body relaxing and therefore no longer willing to keep them at bay.

“Oh my god I can’t believe I said that. Of course, I do! There’s no still wanting about it, I’ve always wanted you. Never questioned it for a second. The real question is, do you want to make this public? I want this to be your choice. It’s going to be crazy, but I promise you, I’ll be beside you every single step of the way. I won’t make you feel like you’re on your own again, I promise. Or, if you feel like it’s too much…then we figure something else out.”

He cups the side of your face, thumb still trailing after the tear tracks.

“I’m just scared that it’ll break us, Tom. But we can’t keep going as we are.”  

He nods in understanding,

“I won’t let it break us. You have me, all of me, for however long you want.”

You pushed your forehead against his shoulder, his hands coming up to cradle the back of your head as you curl into him.

He can feel your body quivering against him as you finally let yourself feel all the emotions you’d gone through in the past 12 hours, feelings you’d been hiding for far longer than that.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologise. I think we needed this. Now we can be better, work harder on loving each other properly. Communicate.”

“I love you. I love you. I love you.” You whisper into his chest, “I thought I’d ruined everything.”

He squeezes his eyes clothes. pressing his lips to the top of your head, releasing soft kisses in between every couple of words,

“No, you’ve not ruined anything. All you’ve done is remind me how much I truly love you. And every day I promise I’m going to show you just how much.”

[danniburgh]

I KNEW THERE WAS ONE PERSON I HAVEN'T PERSONALLY ATTACKED YET!!!

So picture this. You're an art history professor and you're having lecture in a museum and as you explain to your students about the mathematical perfection and contrapposto poses of the Greek Sculptures, you're suddenly interrupted by someone walking by and you're momentarily struck by his beauty because yes, this man is beautiful. And he puts those sculptures to shame with his soft eyes and scruffy facial hair and striking nose and-

"I'm so sorry I couldn't help but hear that you said that the mathematical proportions of the statues were 1 to 8!? I believe you meant 1 to 7."

And you swear his voice has enchanted you but then you register what he said and the whispers of your students and-

"Excuse me sir, I'd appreciate if you didn't teach my student incorrect information."

And he has the audacity to smile and steal your fucking heart with that dashing smirk and he steps closer and looks over to your students and just-

"I truly am sorry but...I think you should perhaps check again. And it is only fair that I get to make a request from you if I'm right."

So you befriend pull out your phone and look over your notes and...fuck. He was right. How could you make such a stupid mistake?

"Huh, I stand corrected. It is 1 to 7 not 1 to 8."

"Well actually that's not true either. You see, with

Polykleitos' canon, the ration is 1 to 7. But with a sculpure like Apoxyomenos of Lysippos, you'll find that it is in fact 1 to 8. So technically, you weren't wrong, it's just that they different from one workshop to another."

You're suddenly confused the stirring emotions rising in your chest and as you look around and see your students jotting down notes, you feel heat rush to your face because what could he possibly ask from you? So as you dismiss your students for lunch and tell them to meet back on the second floor when they're done, you turn around and swallow nervously when you notice the way he's looking at you.

"So, what can I help you with Mr?"

"Actually, it's Agent Pike...but you can call me Marcus."

Your begin to panic when you see his badge and immediately take a step back.

"Youre not in trouble I promise, I'm actually here to ask if it was possible that we get your expertise on an important matter."

You begin to relax when he explains to you why they need you and ask you make your way to the cafeteria, you realize that this man doesn't just have looks but brains as well and it sets off butterflies in your eyes because god....he's dangerous.

"So was that the request then?"

"Oh no no far from it...my request is, well, umm...I was wondering if you'd like to get coffee with me sometime."

He's blushing so hard and you think that he must be the most perfect man to ever exist and-

"I would love to...and maybe we could talk about some more proportions too."

😏😈

I'm all about that BDE you know....

how fucking dare you HOW FUCKING DARE YOU

Marcus isn't even mine lmao but look...

He arrives early at the café just because he wants to make sure to feel relaxed as he waits, but he doesn't really lmao, and when he sees you walking down the street from the window with a, idk, sundress on he curses himself bc he's still wearing a suit from work.

He all but peels the jacket off and as you enter he's rolling his sleeves up and you're like OH NO.

You spend like 4 hours in that café just covering your opinions on art; your favorite movements, who stole what from whom, the discussion gets pretty heated up when you start talking about hyperrealism for some reason...

“So, I was wondering...” he starts, checking his watch and realizing the place is almost about to close “would you let me buy you dinner?”

You smile at him and he feels already broken inside because GODDAMMIT yourse so pretty and so smart and so witty and so funny and GORGEOUS AAAAAA

“Of course, Marcus, we still have to cover magical realism...”

SO you go off to dinner at a little Italian restaurant he knows and again, wow you really don't stop talking at fucking all... he doesn't remember ever going out with someone whose conversation he always reciprocated...

And dinner is filled with those little glances you start giving each other as hints for wanting something else to happen later. As you wait for dessert you leave your hand on the table and he slides his over yours. You feel a slight bolt of energy running from your fingers to your back and Marcus smiles because he sees you shiver.

“Wanna keep the night going?” you ask him on a whisper.

The waiter comes with your blueberry and chocolate cake slice before he gets to answer.

[ppersonna]

pick your filter - pjm | m

mix the colors in the palette, pick your filter. which me do you want? the one to change your world, i'm your filter - filter, bts

↳ summary- You love turning Jimin on, and you’re desperate to make him punish you for it.  Jimin loves punishing you while you listen to his music.

↳ rating- explicit / 18+

↳ word count- 5.1k

↳ pairing- jimin x reader

↳ genre- smut, this is literally just smut, there’s 1% plot and it’s pornographic too, there’s some fluff at the end but i repeat it is still smut. there is no god in this chili’s tonight

↳ warnings- buckle up pals.  established relationship, explicit descriptions of sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m/f receiving), BDSM themes, spanking, belt usage, dirty talk, derogatory names, pain kink, daddy kink, face-fucking lol, unprotected sex, slight impregnation kink but like not really they just wanna have a baby together and talk about it lol, jimin is filthy and i cannot portray him as anything but filthy but then he has like cute babie syndrome at the end.

↳ a/n- hi i feel maybe 1% shame in how fast i wrote this but whatever.  thank you to @carly-bean-blog for sending the prompt in!  i loved it and went from a planned drabble to 5k words lolol.  one day i’ll be less verbose 🥴🥴 plus enjoy and feel free to send in more requests or just a message to say hi bc as you can see i love talking. also RIP to the wine glass i broke while writing this fic because i hit my table to hard.  wine glass 2020-2020

Turning Park Jimin on was a delicious challenge for you.

When you first began dating, all it took was a ‘come over’ text, and he’d be there in 5 minutes flat regardless of the fact that he lived 15 minutes away.

Now, a few years and a marriage under your belt, it took a bit more.

That’s not to say he wasn’t the same insatiable man you met at university; even after all these years Jimin could easily go 3 or more rounds a night.

But really getting him riled up, getting him hard and wanting and desperate for you was another thing.  Sometimes, you just wanted him to come home and take you right against the kitchen counter, so turned on he couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.

You’re determined to win that challenge today.  

To be truthful, the day was terrible for you, and you were seeking release in the form of your husband dicking you down until you were speaking another language. You were desperate to let loose, push aside the emotional and tender sex that seemed to be more commonplace in the bedroom recently (and you enjoyed equally) but today you needed to be treated like an absolute harlot.

The idea rolled through your mind while you were busying yourself with housework, laundry and dishes.  Options of how to get your husband to take you on the floor, rip your clothes off, make you beg for more, simmered in your mind and made the low flame in your stomach burn.  Lingerie could do the trick, Jimin definitely liked to see you swathed in delicate lace or creamy satin.  You had a nice deep red set that was dying to be used and discarded on the floor.

It came to you as you set your speaker to play some music as you flicked around the house.  Jimin’s sweet voice filled the rooms, causing you to pause as shivers raked your spine.

His music.  There was always something Jimin loved about having his music on in the background of your sex that made him work harder on you, fuck you deeper.  Maybe it was narcissism at its finest, but who were you to complain if it benefitted both of you.

You discarded all thoughts of cleaning the rest of the house as you stalked towards your bedroom closet, gathering the red bustier and panty set, with matching garter belt and stocking clips.  You purchased it rather spur of the moment, a huge sale at your favorite boutique, and you wanted to save it for something special.

It appeared the special moment was now.

You took care to curl your hair, a gentle wave with not too much product.  Jimin loved to tug his fingers through your locks, and grip them in a ponytail as you sucked his cock.  Any product would unfortunately get in the way.  Makeup was minimal, a dash highlight on your cheeks and inner tear ducts, light pink lip stain on your lips.  Jimin had been the test subject of many a lipstick, as you determined to find the most blowjob-proof one.  Needless to say, none of the lipsticks were 100% solid, but it was the best time Jimin ever had as a test subject. You preferred to stick with the stains, easier cleanup for the both of you.

You complete the visual as you swap your grubby cleaning day clothes for blood red lace lingerie, smirking at yourself in the mirror.  The cups of the bra molded against you, encasing your tits perfectly.  Jimin would surely lose his mind.  The panties were simple lace, and you had the inkling that they would not remain intact tonight.   Jimin’s propensity for literally ripping your knickers right off you was legendary.  But that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?  You wanted your husband to be absolutely feral for you.

Step two of your plan was now underway as you slipped onto your bed, perfectly made now, and snapped sultry photos.  You ensured your cleavage and smooth legs were in the shot, a finger on the mouth.  You took a few more, exposing more and more of your body.

me 2:56 pm- hi babe what you up to?

mini 2:56 pm- baby!!!! Not much, just waiting for hobi to get back from lunch so we can practice this new choreo.  

Mini 2:57 pm- what about you? besides being the world’s cutest wife :)

Me: 2:57 pm- oh not too much. I did our laundry and cleaned up the house a little.  Now im just relaxing and missing my babe :(

Mini 2:57 pm- baby :( i’m sorry.  I should be home in a few hours okay! I’ll order in pasta from your favorite place to make up for it

Me 2:58 pm- well, i was sort of hoping you could make up for it but… i don’t want pasta

Mini 2:58 pm- you don’t? What do you want? Pizza?

Me 2:58 pm- [picture attached]

Me 2:58 pm- no, I want you to fuck me until I can’t see straight.

Mini 2:59 pm- oh fuck 

Mini 2:59 pm- baby you’re playing a dangerous game, teasing me like this.

You nearly had him, he was sniffing at the bait and soon he’d bite and you’d reel him in.  You sent the next picture, showcasing your tits with one cup pulled down, nipple on display.

me 3:00 pm- you mean this kind of game?

mini 3:00 pm- christ

mini 3:00 pm- fuck babe, you’re gonna make me pop a boner at dance practice.  You know I can’t come home for a few hours.

me 3:00 pm- hobi still gone?  Go to the bathroom and i’ll send you a video.

mini 3:01 pm- holy fuck asdskadj okay

Time for the pièce de résistance.  Ensuring the speakers blasted ‘Serendipity’, your husband’s full length solo, you clicked the record button and filmed your hand sliding down to your clothed core, rubbing over the mound with a rough hand.  You breathed heavily, sighed, mewled a bit.  

“Daddy,” you gasp. “Come home.”

You end it with a hand sneaking under the band and insertion of one finger.  Leave him not just wanting more, but rabid for it.  The video file is sent before you've even pulled your fingers from their spot resting on your clit.

Minutes passed, you were sure he was watching.  The man lived for your exhibitionism.  

mini 3:06 pm- you better have your hands behind your back and be on your knees when i get home, little one. In the middle of the bedroom floor. 

mini 3:06 pm- i want you to listen to the music and think about me fucking you.  Think about how i destroy your little cunt so good.

mini 3:07 pm- but don’t you dare touch yourself.  Your pussy is only mine to play with, you got that?

me 3:07 pm- yes daddy 

mini 3:07 pm- good.  I’ll be home soon.

Congratulations, you smirk to yourself in the mirror's reflection across from you.  You’ve won the grand prize.  Please make sure you collect your prize from the man with the raging boner.

You idly realize that Jimin hasn’t told you when he’ll be home.  You know that on any normal day he’d be home at 5:30.  But was he leaving early?  Could you chance it?  As much as you wanted to disobey and face his delicious punishment, he also could just as easily punish you by not letting you cum at all. And the chances of that type of discipline tonight was high; Jimin would surely make you pay for teasing him at work by exacting torturous ache the same to you.

You’re spinning the pros and cons of preparing yourself now or later, when you are given your hasty answer by the sound of keys jingling in the front door.  Your heart rate spikes dangerously, feeling like the muscle would force the blood out of your veins with the pressure.  

You squirm off the bed and descend to the floor on your knees, resting back on your heels, and holding your hands behind your back.  You lower your head to the floor, knowing Jimin loves it when you avoid eye contact until he tells you when and where to look.  

His footsteps are heavy, slow and torturous because you know that he knows that you’ll be on the very edge of your sanity.  The warmth in your belly is torched with tinder and starter and is flaring high.  Jimin’s simple presence, just like this, is enough to get you to an incredible high.  Nothing brings you to your knees faster than when he turns from your sweet, adorable and gentle husband into the sadistic and powerful dominating owner of your body and soul.

It takes 5 deep breaths from your belly before you hear Jimin enter the bedroom.  He’s not saying a single word, but you can hear his soft footsteps on the hardwood floor.  Your knees are aching at the pressure of the hard floor, but you ignore it. You’d ignore cauterizing wounds for the man hovering above you if he asked. 

You’re trembling, you notice.  Your thighs are quivering ever so slightly and the grasp on your hands behind you is weakening.  You grip harder, determined to maintain perfect correct form.

Jimin is frustratingly silent.  He walks around you, and you feel his eyes rove your body intently, as if looking for fault or reason to punish you.  He seems pleased when he finishes his rounds, standing right in front of you. 

“Look at me,” he states with authority, but his tone is gentle. 

You finally tilt your head up to gaze at your lover and nearly gasp at the sight.  Jimin is, on an average day, the most ethereally beautiful man you’ve ever seen.  Today, he looks as if he descended from heaven mere minutes previous.  His pink hair is pushed back, eyes darkened with desire, and wearing the tightest shirt you’ve ever seen, making his toned dancer’s body ripple under the cotton.  Tight sweats that leave nothing to the imagination about what he’s packing between his thighs sit low on his hips and you spot just a hint of his lower abdomen, the v line of his adonis belt, and you’re sure you’re drooling.

“Look at me,” he corrects, a smirk on his face.  Your eyes snap to his own again, and he winks at you. 

“Have you been a good girl for daddy?” He asks, and it feels like a loaded question.  

You play it coy.  “Yes, daddy.”

He stands still in front of you, hand stroking his face as he watches you.  His eyebrow arches.

“Are you sure? You have done nothing to upset Daddy? Nothing at all?” His voice becomes teasing, and the smirk on his features is sinister.

You bite your lip. “I sent Daddy a video of me, touching myself to his music.”

“That’s right, angel,” he murmurs and circles you again.  You feel like his prey before he comes in for the kill. “You made daddy leave practice early.  Don’t you think that’s not being a good girl?”

“No, I did wrong.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he murmurs.  “I’m gonna make you regret getting Daddy hard and horny at work.”

He places his hands on your shoulders and you shiver.  His hands are smooth, warm.  You love the way you feel the cold steel of his wedding ring pressed to your skin, a tangible expression of his love and loyalty.

“Stand up,” he directs.  You’re quick, thankful to be off stinging knees.  He lets his hands glide down your back to meet at your clasped hands, pulling them apart and turning you to face him.

He threads his fingers through your hair and pulls you close, sealing your lips to his.  His lips are soft and taste of chapstick, a hint of sweat, and something just so simply Jimin that is addictive.  He’s gentle and tender in the kiss, the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife.  It speaks miles beyond the simple action, and you chase it, revel in it, knowing it’s the last time he’ll be gentle tonight.  

He breaks from the kiss, touches your nose gently and winks.  It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The control seeps back into his face; it's physically present in the tight gaze of his eyes and the coolness of his impassive features.  It’s a stark opposite of who just kissed you, and you’re breathless at the sudden change.  

“Gonna spank you with my belt, baby,” he murmurs.  A hand slaps hard against your ass, surprising you and making you squeak out loud.  “Lean over my desk like a good little slut.”

You obey immediately, jerking your body towards his grand oak desk. It’s gorgeous dark wood that matches the decor of your room perfectly and makes for a delicious spot for your sexual proclivities without being obvious.  As much as Jimin wanted a sex swing, you would not cave to that.

You bend to fold your body over the desk, gripping the edge and pushing your hips back to allow for more access to your husband.  The speaker system by your bed plays music, and you recognize the opening chords as one from his latest album with his six best friends. A smile slips to your face as the volume turns up, quiet enough you can talk, but loud enough it’s noticeable. His smooth, melodic voice is ringing through your bedroom and through your entire body. 

He stalks in behind you and rubs at your soft globes.

“Mmm, you look so pretty in this,” he compliments.  “You know I love seeing you in red.”

You turn your head to gaze at him, smiling.  “That’s why I bought it, Daddy.”

“Good little bitch,” he sighs.  

As expected, he rips the underwear from your body with one clean pull.  You’re always surprised by the action. He never gives warning.  Your eyes follow as the useless fabric soars towards the ground. 

“Much better.”

He moves away from you, walking towards the closet.  You train your eyes forward, keeping locked on the wall ahead of you, rather than staring.  Jimin tells you when and where to look and you follow that.

The gentle clinking noise of a belt buckle causes your pussy to quake.  You’ve been slowly moistening since you sent the first text, but you were now starting to drip as if you were overflowing.  By the end of the night, you’ll be drowning in it.

He’s behind you again as quick as he left and he rubs the leather belt against your bare behind. 

“What’s your word?” He asks, soothing at the skin with the device that will soon maar it.  Jimin is ever careful, checking on your mental and emotional safety as well as your physical, and ensured a safe word was in place each time.

“Red,” you assert.  He hums his approval and kisses your ass once, one quick little peck, before he lifts back up to standing.

“Count for me, little whore.”

The crack of the belt spanking your cheek electrifies you.  You feel as if every muscle in your body clenches as the sting vibrates through your buttocks and down to your core.  

“O-one!” You’re shouting, distracted by the pain in your ass to care about your pitch.

Crack. The next slap lands on the other cheek now, and you hiss at the pain.  It bites at your skin, and it soaks your pussy. 

“Two!”

He delivers the next straight in the center, hitting both cheeks and letting the sizzle melt its way to a pleasure that’s reverberating through your core.

“Three! Fuck!” you gasp. 

SMACK.  It’s the hardest yet and tears well up in your eyes at the initial whollop, before your hips are writhing and desperate for friction.

“Four!” You’re wailing and you know it makes your husband go even wilder.

“Stay still or I won’t let you cum for a month,” he grits.  Your hips stay put, knowing he’s a man of his word and not wanting to face his wrath.

He continues his barrage, and you’re counting out 15 strikes before he stops.  You’re sobbing, the pain and pleasure surging so forcefully through your veins that your cunt clenches around nothing and you’re dripping onto the wood of the desk.

His warm hands are soothing at the reddened flesh of your ass, the sensation stinging at first, but oozes away to a relaxing warmth against the punished skin.

“Good girl, baby,” he commends you, hands rubbing all over your flesh. “Took your punishment like such a good girl.”

You sniffle in reply and he pulls you up, making you stand on wobbly legs.  He twists you around and pecks your lips again, a reminder that Jimin, your husband, is still there and loves you more than he loves life itself.  It soothes you more than any salve could and it steels your resolve to continue.  It’s easy to submit and thrill at the loss of control when you trusted the master with your entire being.  

“Color?” He asks, checking in with you.

“Green,” you smile. 

He’s pleased with your answer.  He pulls away from you and pushes you towards the bed.

“Lay down on your back.  Head off the side.  I’m going to fuck your throat, and you will take it all.”

You’re giddy as you saunter to the bed and notice that Jimin is proud of the blooming red of your ass.  It’ll be a literal pain in the ass to sit tomorrow, but it’s worth all the doting and affection you’ll receive in return for being such a good girl for him.  The music has changed, another sensual track featuring your talented husband.  It sends shivers down you, straight to your core.

You maneuver your body to lie on the bed, grateful for the soft blanket on your burning ass, and tip your head off the bed.  Your mouth opens complacently and Jimin shoves his sweats down to reveal his hardened length.

You’re licking your lips like his dick is the finest meal money can buy, and he chuckles.  His left hand strokes it, shivering at the cold press of his wedding ring mixing with the heat of his hand. 

“You want my cock?” He asks.

You nod, captivated with the motion he strokes the shaft.  You almost forget to speak, but his harsh gaze is like a whip.

“Yes! Yes, I want your cock Daddy!”

“Tell me what you want to do to me,” he hums.

Well, this would be too easy.

“I want to suck you dry, let you fuck my throat so I can’t breathe.  I’ll let you cum down my throat and make my face so messy from cum and spit that it gets in my eyes and messes up my pretty makeup, daddy.”

His strokes have become faster, and he sucks in hard for air. “Such a filthy fucking mouth.”

You open said mouth again, letting your tongue hang out like a welcome sign to your throat.

He growls, it’s guttural, and it feels as if it’s positioned on your clit, vibrating the nub.  Your bliss is cut short as he drives his thick dick into your mouth and directly to the back of your throat, leaving you no time to prepare.  You whine slightly around it, and he tsks.

“Don’t you fucking dare whine.  Take it all,” he sounds ruthless and your pussy quakes.

He sets a punishing pace, the tip of his dick ramming through your throat.  It doesn’t take long for it to become messy, saliva trickling from your mouth, falling towards your eyes due to the angle of your supine head.  Jimin sounds angelic, the moans that leave the dancer’s body should be recorded and played for an audience, you think.  You’d suffer through hours of this for the reward of his sweet voice crying out your name.

“Fuck, my little cock slut loves it when I fuck her throat, hmm,” he asks, breathy and harsh.  You nod as much as you can.

“Yeah, that’s right.  You love daddy’s cock, don’t you? You love it when I fucking choke the shit out of you with my fat cock, huh?”

The voice of an angel with the words of the devil himself.  The duality is intoxicating and you are head over heels for both Jimin’s inside of him, every aspect of the man you pledged your life to.

“Mmm, you suck me so good,” he’s groping at your tits through the fabric of your bra.  You’re surprised that it’s still on, but you trust he’s aware and always has a plan.  

“Are you crying, baby?” He asks mockingly.  Tears and saliva mix and your face is completely ruined by it.  You nod again and blink.  “Good, fucking choke on it.” he goes even faster and you’re moaning.  It hurts and the gag reflex is there, but the pain gets you off, and you know the second it became too much, your husband would stop in an instant.  

“Little sluts get their face fucked when they disobey daddy,” he chides, emphasising each word with a thrust.  

It’s as if you’re desperate for his orgasm, wanting nothing more than to swallow every ounce of what he spills into you, clean him up and ask for more.  He won’t have that tonight, it seems, as he’s pulling out of you as quickly as he entered.

“I want to cum in this tight little cunt,” he bites.  You slither up from your position and wipe at your eyes, resting against the pillow after he orders you to remove the bustier.  He asks that you leave the belt and stockings on, however. 

“Spread those pretty thighs for me, baby,” he’s discarded his shirt and is sitting ahead of you, watching you.  His gaze turns you on and opens you up like a flower.

Your thighs are spread far and you lean back further onto the pillows to put the star of the show on display.  You’re coated with your slick; it’s slathered up and down your thighs and dripping onto the duvet below you.  He breathes out in appreciation.

“I think my favorite thing about you is how fucking wet you get for me.”  He’s still not moving and you want to beg him to touch you, please do something, but refrain.  “You feel like a fucking dream when I’m inside you.”

“B-baby,” you break character and freeze, but he ignores it and allows you to continue as you sigh with relief. “I need you.”

“Do you now?” he banters, and you nod with wide, needy eyes.

“Touch yourself for me, then.  Show me how badly you want daddy’s cock in you.”

A hand flies to your cunt in record time and you’re desperately eager to spread the lips of your folds apart and rub at your slick and swollen clit.  A breathy, heady moan escapes you at the friction you’ve been aching for since you sent the sexy photo hours ago. 

“Fuck!” you shout, circling the bud.  Jimin’s eyes are glued to your hands, and he watches with awe. 

“Finger yourself,” he demands and you’re obeying before he’s even finished speaking, two fingers slipping down to enter your channel.  You arch off the bed and grip a breast in your other hand, flicking at the nipple for extra sensation.  

He coos at you as you fuck yourself with wild abandon, gasping his name as you slip deeper with each thrust.  

“Add another.”  His voice maintains its even quality, maintained and cool.  But if you opened your eyes, you’d see that he’s salivating at the sight, desperately restraining himself.  His cock is weeping pre-cum and he could explode in an instant watching this too long.

Your ring finger slips in with the other two and you’re keening at the stretch.  The pain is gone in a flash, just a pinch that simmers to a desperate pleasure.  

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he breaks his composure, momentarily.  He’s so in love with you, every single fucking bit, that he can’t help it.  “God, you’re beautiful.”

His words have you blushing, as if they’re the most lewd part of the evening and not the fact you’re fingering yourself in front of your husband while he watches and orders you around.

“Rub your clit with your other hand, love.”

The pressure of your added hand on your clit and the fingers thrusting into you has you soaring to your high and your throat chokes on the air.  “O-oohhh fuckkk!” You whine.

“You close, baby?  You gonna cum on those cute little fingers and get them messy for daddy?” He asks, voice violently serene.

“Y-yes! Please, I want to cum,” you beg.  You know the rules, he tells you where and when your body receives its pleasure.

“You wanna cum?” He asks again, and you feel a spike of irritation.  He’s already asked you that, haven’t you already answered?

“So badly, daddy! Please! C-close.” Words are escaping your mental capacity now.  You’re there, nearly there, just one little tiny string holding you back from the edge of euphoria.

“Too bad.”  

Your fingers are pulled from your cunt quickly and you’re crying.  Tears are forming in your eyes as you feel an ache deep to your womb.  You had been so close, so deliciously close.  Jimin knows this, thrills at watching you edge further and further through the night.  You won’t admit it at the moment, it’s pure torture then, but the buildup to the finale is indescribable.

“You don’t get to fucking cum until I tell you to cum.  Do you understand me?”

“Yes, yes! Yes, Daddy,” you babble, nearly incoherent from arousal and denial. 

He makes you writhe there, pussy so slick its soaking the blankets and you’ll have to change them later but the only thing you think about is your cunt, your weeping cunt that’s screaming to release. 

You feel your breath slowing and know that Jimin wants you to come back down to earth before he’ll bring you up again.

“Good fucking girl,” he kisses your belly, licking at the navel.  He whispers quiet words of adoration as he trails down your abdomen and end at the top of your mound.  Your legs are shaking, no, they’re nearly convulsing from need.

He spreads your folds, and it’s pornographic the way he spits on your pussy, as if it needs any more wetness.  It’s not about the wetness, though, and you know it.  It’s about the message, the ownership.  

“My favorite little fuck toy,” he murmurs, lightly tracing everywhere but the bud throbbing with need for friction.  “I can’t wait to cum inside this little pussy tonight.  Gonna flood your whole fucking cunt, babe.”

Jimin knows the way to your heart, and the way to your orgasms is through his words.  Gentle whispered ‘i love you’s’ in the day and disgusting filth at night.  It’s just another reason in a list of a million why you work so well together. 

“Should we get you nice and pregnant tonight?  You want to make a baby?”  

You nearly sob at his words.  He can fuck you harder with his words than his cock.

“Please!” You’re yelling, tears streaming down your face. “P-please! I want your baby.”

He leans down and smiles for a moment before speaking. “Well, my little wife will always get what she wants when she asks so nicely.”  His lips attach to your clit, suctioning it into his mouth and swirling his tongue around it.  It’s swollen and slick, and it feels like fucking heaven.  His plushy lips are working for it, taking you so desperately close to the edge.  

You’re gasping a symposium of his name and praising the ground he walks on.  You’re sure if you died now you’d die a very fucking happy woman.  The world around you is gone, and it’s just Jimin’s sinful mouth suckling at your cunt.

You’re close again, and Jimin knows it.  You’re begging, pleading with him, but it’s useless as he roughly pulls away.

The music continues on in the background.  It’s lighter, and Jimin croons in the speaker as he grunts in your ear.

He muffles your anguished cry with a messy kiss that tastes of you, and he’s thrusting into you.  The slickness guides him in easily and he’s whining against you at the feel of your walls accept him and hugging him tightly as if they’ve missed his cock swelling within them.

“JIMIN!” You’re seeing fireworks as your husband fucks into you, holding you close to him.  It’s as rough and kinky as it is intimate and sweet.  He holds you, cherishes you, while he’s pistoning his thick member into your loud, drenched cunt.  

“I love you,” he whispers, slipping a thumb into your mouth that you suck at eagerly, as skilled with his fingers as you are with his cock.  “I love you so fucking much.”

His eyes align with yours, yours full of tears of absolute unrivaled pleasure, and his with full and never-ending devotion. 

You’re both so close, and you pull him against you to kiss his lips.  You want to connect completely to him as you cum, as he spills into your womb and creates something, someone there. 

Your cunt flutters intensely, quaking in anticipation as it builds and builds and builds.  Jimin breaks the kiss to breathe and warn you, “I’m going to cum soon, baby, please cum with me.”  He’s gentle and sweet, the Jimin who cries at love stories and wears flower crowns now present inside you.  You nod quickly, gasping as the coil winds tighter and tighter.  

Your kissing is messy, passionate, and your hands grasp him everywhere.  You’re tugging at his toned arms and solid back, seeking refuge as the tidal wave grows impossibly high, higher, so so high,

And crashes into you at 100 miles per hour.  Your cunt is contracting and pulsing around him so intensely you nearly black out, crying loudly into his mouth.  He’s groaning with you, the feeling of your already impossibly tight walls clenching down on him demands the orgasm out of him.  He’s cupping your whole face in his hands as he spills into you and your walls suck him in further, so far he could disappear completely.  

It feels as if you orgasm for hours, but it's merely minutes later that you’re trying to catch your breath and slip back into reality.  You’re clinging to each other like last lifelines and the gaze between you is so intense it clenches at your racing heart.  

The silence between you two is long and speaks an entire conversation before your lips even open.  He’s singing so sweetly through the speaker, it sounds like he’s singing directly to you.  “I love you,” you’re whispering to him.

He rubs at your cheeks in his palms, wiping away stray tears of bliss that have slipped down your face.

“I love you.”

You settle into him, unwilling to move a single inch away from your husband, and marvel at the beauty that is your life, your future.  

Jimin holds you close, kisses you gently and sings softly along to the music as you fall asleep, and he adores the fact that he holds his entire world, his future, in his arms.

© ppersonna - 2020 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.

[tottymatsuno]

Pink Angel From Hell Chapter 2: The Return

Author: Roro (halfeviltotty)

Fandom: Osomatsu-san

Pairing: Todomatsu x reader

Category: romance, host au, character study

Rating: T ig bc i havent actually written anything nsfw yet

Summary: going back for more

Word count: i gotta take this question out. you'll see when its done.

Warnings: hes mean, ladies. based off of the drama cd. watch it or dont say nothing. its in the first chapter and is required reading.

Commentary: i dont feel like doing a ton so heres another upload. pretend these uploads are my broadcast version and when i fix them in post to upload them on ao3 those are the bluray releases. im so fucking sleepy

"Y/N-chan." Nishimura calls you out when classes are over, and casually confesses his affections for you while the two of you walk together. It's a quick yet not so half hearted affair as you'd like to think.

"Please give me time to answer…" You say already regretting not rejecting him up front. It's not that he's mean or cold or anything wrong with him. In fact there's nothing wrong with him as far as you can tell. You’re just infatuated with Todomatsu as embarrassing as that might be.

Your mind races back to the piece of candy Todomatsu left in your closed palm that night and already aware you've got it bad.

It really sucks and the thought has you sighing and nearly crying all day. Why couldn't he be as cute and flirty as Totty as he likes to be called? Why do you hate conflict so much? Can't you say no to anybody?!

It's already been a few days since you met Todomatsu and you're craving that sugary attention again. Your mind wanders to how his hands might feel, especially when you think about those big brown bedroom eyes he gave you when you fixed your skirt.

The following few days have been filled with thoughts on Todomatsu. You have to see him again, you absolutely know that for fact. But...how pathetic are you to be so infatuated with someone who you have to pay to like you?

Argh!! It's just too confusing!! Why did Todomatsu have to be so dang ole cute?! You think almost angry at yourself. Why couldn't you have met him in normal circumstances?! What school does he go to, what are his hobbies, what do you have in common other than...than WHAT?!

Today.

You need to see him Today. Well actually you've needed to see him since yesterday but you've been stubborn.

The curiosity and urgency causes you to nearly dash to your car. You need to know more about him or you will surely wither away like an old Victorian white woman from the consumption.

It's not a far drive from your school or at least doesn't feel like one when you park your car. You survey your outfit, check your hair and reapply your lipgloss to make sure you look your absolute best as you exit your vehicle.

You enter and instantly feel out of place by yourself. Oh Goooddd, you plead to yourself, what if he isn't here?!

In another flash and a lot of ushering you manage to say you're here for Todomatsu. Which is a surprise to everyone, "Not Karamatsu-kun?" they asked.

Your eyes trailed from the corner of the room along an overjoyed and skipping Todomatsu with the most angelic blush on his delicate cheeks.

He seemed to be cheering up until his eyes met yours. Todomatsu slyly winks at you, before metering his excitable expression. Instead he waves and then all at once with your eyes never leaving his, Todomatsu is in front of you. He slides into the seat next to you gracefully.

"You miss me?" Todomatsu asks syrupy sweet. YES! Of course!!

Instead you awkwardly giggle, finally averting your eyes. "Hah...you could say that…" You mutter.

"I missed you too, Y/N-chan." Todomatsu says sincerely.

"Really? Please don't say that…" You blush, covering up your hot face.

"Ehh, why not Y/N-chan! It's true." Todomatsu cutely protests.

“If you say it like that, I’ll really believe it." Your mind, heart and other assorted parts are all in agreement that you should believe him, even for different reasons. Your mind cynically reminds you that he's being paid to say that.

"It is though," Todomatsu's hand grazes yours as he settles in with the menu. He placed it on the table and gestures for you to pick it up.

“What drink should we start off with?” Todomatsu begins right as your brain commences its tirade of bitterness.

Your eyes scan the menu, you see a reasonably priced drink and… WOW that's a high alcohol content! You ended up pointing out another drink that had less of a percent but was also more expensive.

Todomatsu all but snatches the menu away to point out more expensive drinks. “What about this one, Y/N-chan? It tastes better, and is more suited for a cute girl like you!”

You laugh nervously, you've always been the sort who is up-sold. “This one sounds better to me though, Totty.” You say avoiding the much more expensive drink.

Todomatsu scoffs under his breath which you find rude until he then looks at you dead in the eyes and says, “I'm just glad you're drinking tonight, last time you didn't seem to be enjoying yourself very much with your friends. I want to make you as comfortable as possible, so order what you like!”

His fakeness astounds you, and you find yourself feeling something mixed. On one hand, his words were honeyed and sweet, on the other his little scoff has you feeling some type of way.

He even winks at you. Of course you swoon, of course! That settles the animosity that was growing in your mind, Todomatsu isn't rude after all!

Todomatsu’s charms start out the gate with your heart racing. Soon after ordering your drinks, Todomatsu turns all his attention onto your hair. “Your hair is so gorgeous, you must put a lot of work into maintaining it.”

It's not the first time somebody has complimented your hair, but it's the first time Todomatsu has so it's special.

“Your eyes are also lovely, and you have such a feminine physique. Ahh, I really like you. You're really cute!”

Once he has you hooked in with the flirtation and praise Todomatsu flips a switch and gets down to business. Suddenly you're being bombarded with things on a menu, and it's going too fast to deflect each request he puts on your already thin wallet.

"Why not try the short cake? Also you need another drink to wash it down with, right?" Todomatsu has you feeling obligated to buy everything on the menu. If you do though you'll be in so much debt!

Thinking about the money situation, Todomatsu lays the charms on thick and heavy.

"Ahh, Y/N-chan! You're so cute when you drink. Look at those flushed cheeks, you must really like drinking with me huh? You handle your drinks well, but be careful or you'll become like an old man."

You giggle at this, once again incrementally calming down in Todomatsu’s company.

“I know a secret spell to make you more relaxed than this though, ” Todomatsu suddenly begins after noticing how nervous you still are from his demeanor. “What is it?” You ask humbly almost ready for anything that could make this go even smoother. Please, anything to make him like you! BUT cheaply!!

“Say 'I want champagne!’ and you'll become a princess!” Todomatsu claps his hands at the end of his exclamation, eyes twinkling with expectation.

Your face falls, you scoot a little away from him and you can't hide your discomfort by the words. You know what the champagne command means and you also know you can't afford it. The fact that he's trying to gauge you for every penny you have completely ruins any fantasy you had of his character.

“Um, Totty…” You start off with, not really feeling this or him too much anymore, “Yes, Y/N-chan? The words are, 'I want champagne.’” He urges you again. Todomatsu is waiting almost impatiently for you to say the words.

Just as you were about to end whatever relationship or transaction you were having with Todomatsu, his older brother shows up to your table with a disappointed glower.

“Todomatsu.” Karamatsu starts a more serious voice than you've ever heard from him before. “Your eagerness is making her uncomfortable, you look more like a salesman than a host right now.”

Karamatsu scolds him, and you feel relief that somebody pointed it out. Instead of looking at the situation critically, Todomatsu begins to whine.

“Ehh? Are you serious, Karamatsu-niisan?”

“Look at how uncomfortable she looks.” Karamatsu jerks his head to your direction.

Todomatsu turns to you with those impossibly big doe eyes and asks, “Are you uncomfortable, Y/N-chan? Was I really pushing too hard?”

Taking a page from Chiyo’s book you down the liquid courage before answering. “Um...you were coming off a tinesy bit strong, Totty…”

Todomatsu looks mortified by your small admission, especially when Karamatsu verbally agrees.

“You have a lot to learn still, but the most important thing is be yourself and not to try so hard, Todomatsu.” Karamatsu walks off in a manner even you think is cool even though he's not your type in the least.

“I think Karamatsu-niisan is right. Maybe I should just relax…” Todomatsu slumps in his seat, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Say, Y/N-chan. Why do all the girls favor Karamatsu-niisan? What's he got that I don't have? I’m way cuter than him, right?”

Todomatsu aggressively whines, taking a swig out of his own drink with his free hand. His cheeks flush and the bitter expression on his face could be from the alcohol or from his own sorry feelings.

When you don't answer right away, Todomatsu sighs. “At least you chose me. Let's start over Y/N-chan.”

“Can I say something before we start over?” You ask in a small voice.

Todomatsu sucks in a breath, clearly readying himself for the worst case scenario. “You don't want to switch to Karamatsu-niisan, do you?”

“No thanks.” At your words Todomatsu sighs in relief. “What is it then?” Todomatsu tilts his head so suddenly he's invading your personal space in a much broader way. If you bent your head down just slightly the two of your lips would touch.

“I-I…!” You instantly turn away from him, unable to face the music and tell him how you feel. COWARD!! You mentally scold yourself, is there anyone out there a bigger chicken than you?!

“Ne, talk to me...what'd you want to say?”

You steel yourself for the admission you're about to make.

“I like you, Totty. I think you're the cute one. I don't know why you aren't more popular, but I’ll always support you. I just don't like being upsold like this, I want to have a good time with you...but not have to go into debt to do it. Do you understand? I want you to like me too."

Even if only in a financial context you inwardly sigh.

Only because he looks so damn cute right now! Anyone else you would've left high and dry and never returned, but Todomatsu has a clutch on your heart like none other. How did that even happen?

“Really?” Todomatsu asks in the most open and vulnerable voice you've heard from him yet.

“Of course.” You say with a deep conviction. To simply put it, because you like him. There's an attraction towards Todomatsu you've only felt towards 2D characters.

Todomatsu's pretty kitty mouth slips into a sweet grin. He moves even closer into your personal space, and whispers almost kindly in your ears, “You really are cute, Y/N-chan. I think I just might fall for you. “ His lips do graze your ear lightly, you try your hardest not to verbally acknowledge the feelings this stirs in you.

“Wh-why don't we drink something!”

“Okay!” Todomatsu cheers, moving away from your tingling ear.

After removing himself from your bubble, you only manage to get three more drinks in before your low tolerance gets the better of you.

Your scheduled amount of time is up, you're drunk and not only that; Todomatsu was just called to help his twin with a returning party. Since you didn't spend a competing amount to keep Todomatsu in your company bye-bye he goes!

Todomatsu hics and giggles loudly as you try to stumble out of the seat to finally leave.

You call Chiyo to pick you up since even though she's quiet, she's a good driver. Plus she only lived two train stops away.

When Chiyo comes to get you, inevitably gush about Todomatsu until she tells you, “Watch out for him. He's a snake, and pay attention to how he acts when you have no money.”

This causes you to quiet down and drunkenly reflect on her warning.

In that moment you decide to disregard it, because as Karamatsu said the first time you all met, “The gears of fate are turning in our love's favor.” You know this will work out!

[natblda]

tw ;; rp abuse

reivcn

@alaskaslayer 

 @kennedybtvs 

 @tylerlockwoof 

 @sunnydalescoobies

i wasn’t going to do this. but i’m doing this. the next time you tell someone i was in love with you and talk shit about me or my muses in any fandom...check yourself. because i still have EVERY SINGLE MESSAGE, EVERY CHAT, EVERY GODDAMN THING BACKED UP AND DOZENS UPON DOZENS OF PEOPLE WHO HAVE LEARNED STRAIGHT FROM YOU HOW TOXIC AND ABUSIVE YOU ARE...ALL ON THEIR OWN WITHOUT THE HELP FROM ME I ASSURE YOU. YOU ARE INTERACTING WITH PEOPLE YOU TALKED SHIT ABOUT, I have all of that documented too, and you are interacting with them under a different alias. the number of messages i have received unprompted from people coming to me about the LIES YOU SPEW OUT, IS A MORE ABSURD NUMBER THAN YOU ARE A PERSON. 

YOU are the reason you have NOTHING but your delusions, and NOTHING is keeping me from putting every single message i have on a google document because you are literally a predator to this community. i wasn’t going to do this, i really wasn’t. because the fact of the matter is...for someone who’s so ‘in love with you right’....you mean nothing to me. you DID THAT. not only did you abuse and gaslight me for YEARS, you abused my muse, you slut shamed her for having other verses, you called her a cheater for seeing other people, you threw in my face and her face nearly every goddamn time that luna interacted with anyone else ...that I QUOTE “RAVEN DOESN’T NEED OTHER VERSES JUST LUNA, WHY DOES LUNA NEED MORE THAN RAVEN, WHY IS RAVEN NOT ENOUGH, LUNA IS ENOUGH FOR RAVEN. WHERE IS RAVEN IN THIS REPLY? TELL THE OTHER MUSE RAVEN IS THERE SO THAT THEY KNOW LUNA IS TAKEN.” 

like NO. how many times i said...get raven out there, let her explore, let her meet other people? it’s GOOD FOR HER? IT’S GREAT FOR MUSES? and you flipped at ME with that same gaslighting again. RAVEN ONLY WANTS LUNA. IT’S LUNA WHO CLEARLY NEEDS MORE. like honestly. the emotional abuse that you put me through and my muse through, to the point where i almost quit writing her? to the point where luna couldn’t even look at your raven without seeing YOUR NASTY BEHAVIOR BEHIND HER VOICE. and you would say...i cant interact with others bc no one in this fandom likes my raven, they all blocked me. BECAUSE OF YOU. BECAUSE OF YOUR SHIT, AND DON’T WORRY, I HAVE YOUR MESSAGES SAYING THAT IT WAS YOUR FAULT AS A MEANS TO MAKE ME GO ‘awe poor you, you’re just misunderstood. they just know you like i do’. but the truth is? THEY DON’T KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO AND THE WAY EVERY PERSON WHO BLOCKED YOU DOES. POOR ANYONE WHO COMES INTO CONTACT WITH YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE A PREDATOR AND A LEECH IN THE RPC.

I DO NOT BELIEVE IN CALL OUT POSTS. BUT I DO BELIEVE IN SAYING MY PIECE WHEN I HAVE BEEN ISOLATED AND SUBJECTED TO YOU FOR YEARS UPON YEARS. and you have the audacity to talk shit about me saying that I WAS THE ONE WHO DID ALL THE ABOVE MENTIONED THINGS TO YOU? yeah that sounds familiar, bc everyone in the world abuses you, you are a victim of everything. literally everything. the number of times i heard you say “not to be racist but...” and then proceeded to spit something racist out of your white mouth.  the number of times you were transphobic, hell...i don’t have to mention that, most people saw that on the dash because you outed yourself with ‘in 2012 people like me could use any fc we wanted with any gender orientation and it was fine so i can still do that!” like..no. i let slide so much that i should NEVER HAVE ALLOWED. I BIT MY TONGUE BC I THOUGHT...maybe she just...needs to be educated on these things, maybe she doesn’t know what she’s saying, maybe it’s just not registering how to be an honest and genuine person. like i get it, people bicker, they have misunderstandings, but at least have the goddamn audacity to be straight forward with it. 

i learned today from a few people...that you accused ME of doing these things instantly upon meeting these people, not even knowing them, and you so readily spilled lies about me. and i figured out why...because you don’t have control of me anymore, you don’t control my muse anymore, because i cut the strings and i cut you out and i kept moving forward, i kept going on, happy...without you. interacting with raven’s who ARE RAVEN, NOT YOU and your narrative behind her face and name. 

the hours i devoted to you, the hours, days, weeks, months, stating over and over again how I WAS YOUR FRIEND AND NOTHING MORE THAN THAT, AND YOU TRIED COUNTLESS TIMES TO BAIT ME. let’s see if you remember this. 

“i told my friends you’re my girlfriend i hope that’s okay.” 

and me...going, i mean we’re friends, i am not in the country, but assuming it was an issue with your self-esteem i said...i guess that’s fine but we’re friends, we probably hang out as much as gfs do but we ARE NOT. and then you turned around with...now you’re giving me mixed signals are we girlfriends? LIKE YOU LIED TO YOUR FRIENDS, YOU STRAIGHT UP KNOW WE WEREN’T , hence the ‘i told my friends you’re my girlfriends’ like you KNEW WE WEREN’T, SO YOU ALREADY KNEW THE GODDAMN ANSWER WAS NO, BUT YOUR DELUSIONS LITERALLY DONT GET IT AND SO YOU ATTEMPT TO BAIT. i’m sorry that after 4+ years sitting on skype every day i can not imagine being with someone i watched eat more out of their nose than of actual food. that was just the tip of the iceberg because then we’re going right back into all of the toxic nightmare you put me through, all the shaming you put luna through., and that carried into threads most of the time, luna having to look at raven and feel like a cheater. like you know what, like i said i wasn’t going to do this, but having just met some amazing rpers i am so blessed to be able to write with and hearing the kind of lies you spilled about me and this whole situation.

i’m going to go to the time when luna was single verse, single shipped with your raven, and when she would interact with FRIENDS, she was slapped for it, i was slapped for it. the time when you tried to pimp raven out in the IMs of one of our mutuals and then that mutual came to me and went...look, im not comfortable, my muse isn’t interested, i’m trying to respect the fact that you guys are single shipped but basically rowan is trying to get my muse to have sex with her. and i went...news to me, i thought we were single shipped, but from this day on...it’s best that we are not. because you know what, considering how many times luna had already been shamed for having friends at that point, to find out that you were ACTUALLY DOING what you were shaming luna for doing, when luna wasn’t doing it? pissed me off and completely broke my rp partner trust in you. and you were only pissed because you got caught, bc someone else was a genuine and respectful person enough to tell me about it. after all the shaming you threw at luna and it was YOU breaking the single ship status. NOT ME. and from that day forth i guess you know what they say...faithlessness breeds a guilty conscience.

i DO NOT HAVE TO PROTECT YOU. YOU DO NOT DESERVE PROTECTION FROM ME. A PREDATOR DOES NOT GET TO SIT BY AND SAY...I’M BEING BULLIED. and i know that’s what you’re going to say, i know because you’re a victim of everything and you depend on my silence and me protecting you bc i cared about the muses. BUT I DO NOT HAVE TO PROTECT YOU. YOU DO NOT DESERVE MY SILENCE. I WILL NOT BE SILENT TO PROTECT YOU. I WILL PROTECT MYSELF AND MY FRIENDS AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER BEEN SUBJECTED TO YOU, EVERYONE WHO WILL EVER HAVE THE MISFORTUNE OF BEING SUBJECTED TO YOU, AND WHILE I DO THAT, I WILL BE MAKING THAT GOOGLE DOC.  

SO...ROWAN, HIDING UNDER THE ALIAS OF CASS, [ an alias that she used in the past to make it seem like she had backup during an episode of her toxic behavior. yes. she created the alias and a clarke blog and conversed back and forth with herself on the dash so that it looked like she had someone backing her up when she was being passive aggressive on the dash ] she will likely find a dozen other alias to go by. i haven’t had to change mine, i haven’t had to hide, or move blogs, or switch anything just to get people to NOT KNOW WHO I AM, to trick people into interacting with me so that they think i’m someone else. she relied on my silence, she depended on me caring about the ship too much to speak up and defend myself or others, but i am done being silent. 

[seijohsfairy]

𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚁𝙸𝙳

rhi, this is for you ♡ remember when you said mafia seijoh and i said i’d write it?? but then i got super distracted with other fics and never did the thing? weLL I FINALLY FINISHED IT. she’s cut up into two parts bc i didn’t want to make it too long but part 2 should be up soon for @/seijorhi​ & massive, big fat ty to @/xplosiveboy​

.wordc. 3k+ tw mafia!big 4, noncon, sexual harassment, yandere, coercion

horrid pt 2

It was written somewhere in your favorite library, on a vacant page of the grimy literature textbook stuffed between two shelves maybe, you read it just once. Back then you didn’t care much for the radical, unwilling to trust the faith of someone destroying what wasn’t theirs to begin with. Long, curved words littering the white; claiming full of hate that the poison our mind makes is the most powerful decay, that humans are the most horrid of creatures.

Back then you’d closed the book, sliding it back into place and tucking the knowledge far back into your mind, unwilling to use such a straight-set line of thinking on a world which had given you life, gifted you virtue and loudness. So terrifying; but splendid. You had swallowed, light and unwavering in the knowledge that you were still capable of processing, and giving kindness. You had settled above the cold of those words, thinking them sickly and rotten.

But you didn’t forget, the fire of them on the curve of the page. Or rather, you couldn’t.

It isn’t unlike you to falter in your step, feet rushing ahead faster than your mind can catch up and taking those half-hearted fumbles as just what it needs, before granting you another dash of mindless cadance. Not lost but wanting to reach home a bit faster, slicing off the unnecessary travel so you’d be able to cuddle up in a blanket a second sooner. Even without anything waiting for you on the other end. So you correct your balance for long enough to notice the long straight between brick walls, the direction of it catching your eye more than anything of value. The buildings here are taller, stubbier in their set size and darker, like the grime of the city has never been washed off them.

You’re small in between, but that has never stopped you before. You wonder if you could take that road, rush it. An alternative for the boring path you’re supposed to take. The monotony aches. You’re young, invincible, not having existed nearly long enough for something truly horrible to happen. Unbalanced, in a way.

But you’re not foolish either, and wasting precious time is the exact opposite of what you want. You bite your lip, carefully crossing the street to peek into the alley. Littered, wet, vacant. Until the breeze picks up and ruffles your hair, calling out for disaster. Unwilted flowers and those dusted grey to the core aching to meet, to make the balance even.

A show of red, white and black in the form of a man, and one that has your chest craving to be leveled with his. It isn’t that you haven’t been blown away by beauty before, but equality is something else entirely. Those things are weighty in their presence, heavy enough to break your reasoning and to have you rolling forward without will of your own. The heavy-set darkness of his eyes, his hair, his dress shirt. As if he wants to melt into the background, yet everything about him seems to demand attention. The bony points of his hands and fingers are bloodied, chafed and red shows through the split skin where his nose is lowest. But he fuels your wonder with a dignity, leaning against the metal door just as practiced as the cigarette held between his lips.

Never would you be more aware of your foolishness than looking back on that instant. But sadly you only figure that out long after you allow your body to drift towards him. Your kindness hasn’t failed you yet. It does crumble slightly when the weight of his gaze falls on you, staring your way like you’re a broken record disturbing his peace. But even in your clumsy approach you are obviously good and innocent, dragging closer. The pitter-patter of your feet against the wet concrete is shy, it drips from your lips. And beasts hidden in the cracks of society always sniff out that kind of virtue. “Excuse me,” you say. “Do you know where this alley leads?”

It’s a silly thing, more close to an excuse to speak than true curiosity but it has his mind churning. He blows out a white cloud beside your face, picking the destructive thing from between his lips with a tick of his brow. The tilt of his head in the way you had motioned leaves you tense, used breath building in your lungs, your tongue rubbing on the roof of your mouth like it has something to scrub away. “Don’t think you wanna go that way,” he simply says, eyeing you up and down with the languid movements of a lioness not yet bothering to stretch her muscles, “it’s dark and scary down there.” The glint in his hazel-greens should remind you of water pulling far back from the beach. It does remind you of it, but for reasons beyond you it doesn’t quite click.

So you puff out your chest, basking in the tiny bit of confidence you house to nod. “I think I can handle it,” you smile. As you consider your chances of making it to the other end, a feeling of irony comes to press on your shoulder. Sucking at the brave front until you’re all but left a shivering deer on two dainty legs. It feels colder here than it did on the main street.

So you look back only once at the handsome stranger, bowing in gratitude. “T-thank you, I— I’ll be going now.” Polite despite the tremble you feel, you were raised to be good. He only tilts his head in response, choosing silence the moment you wish for anything else, but you too are at a sudden loss. You turn on your heel and start tiptoeing away from the vast security of the street to drown yourself in sudden doubt in your ability. Most times you experience the opposite. You know the feeling of living, breathing with no worry, well and polishing your renewed understanding only later.

But the path his eyes take in chase of your body has a stickiness, and you can’t help but imagine he has already eaten you up in his mind, walking away with sweat on your palms. Two bangs sound against the metal, leaving you skittishly darting forward with your nails pulled into your palms. It’d be easier to pretend to be strong if you had a bit more faith in your own destructive power. Should you be a monster of preposterous size in the body of a cowering young woman, it’d be easy to push away the need to check, to make sure that you are not under threat. But you’re painfully human, so you glance over your shoulder anyway.

The handsome man has already slipped back into the building, but the memory of his expression gives you goosebumps. A reminder that humans are greedy in nature even when you don’t want them to be. You let the tense air out between parted lips, continuing down the wet curve of the buildings until a creak up ahead calls your attention. Against the darkness where another door swings open, two figures come out into the chill of the falling evening. You envy them for a moment, as they are not alone and you are, but then your feet halt to let your thoughts churn. The men, one with pretty, brown hair and the other a strawberry blond color, don’t need to search to find what they are looking for. The sharp eyes are turned your way the moment they exit the bruised building.

And you blink a few times, before taking a step back in the narrow space. They stand at the door with a stony confidence. Running now is definitely proof that you are not as brave as you pretended, but you can’t help it. With a deep breath you turn back, suddenly feeling hurried. No one reason could be good enough to put yourself into the jaw of an animal willingly, definitely not one as feeble as yours. You scurry back around the corner with a speed that would go unnoticed by most, but still you have to stable yourself again when you connect with another body. It catches you, wraps a large hand around your arm and you look up to express your gratitude by habit.

It’s another tall person, dark curly hair and a surprised expression. Something about his touch is debasing, seeming to latch onto every single one of your fibers. If it had only been this, it would leave you starving, your greedy heart categorizing everything under love at first sight— though you are barely old enough to have liked properly. But the contact is too long to sit well, your body straightening from him as best you can. “S-sorry,” you begin, silencing yourself with a gasp. The brunet of earlier, as well as the other two are upon you already, the presence of four men surrounding you so suddenly a frightening thing. “I- I’m sorry,” you mumble again, though it is lost in the intrigued gazes. They crowd around you before you can think of what you should do.

One of them shoots you a grin bright as the sun, leaning over your shoulder to come into view. “Look at you being the gentleman, Mattsun. You saved the cute girl from falling down!” You are still held onto by the curly haired man, who shrugs off the compliment with an indifferent expression. The cheerful one clicks his tongue, before rounding back on you with a smile that makes his eyes crinkle. The weightlessness he carries reminds you of something out of a fairy tale. Bright, obnoxiously cheerful. “What are you doing here, gorgeous? How old are you, you in college?” Voice lithe, sweet on your tongue like honey.

So you try to straighten up, dropping your lip from between your teeth. “Y-yes,” you say, to be interrupted by another voice. This one is more familiar, the first of the few. Tanned skin, handsome at every angle.

“All alone like this?” he breathes, “you must be pretty brave.” With an endless intrigue laced in his eyes, you’re pulled closer to the man with dark, spiky hair by your free hand. You stumble forward with the sudden shift. If you were ever an angel, your wings are useless now. And something tells you these men will make sure that soon they’ll be no more. He only smiles when you have to steady yourself on his chest with gentle fingertips, keeping you close to his warm body. But eager, it plays on his lips like you’re the thing he’s been looking to find for hours, maybe days. He lets out a chuckle at your dumbfounded expression. “I’m Iwaizumi, that’s Hanamaki and Matsukawa.” He waits a moment, smiling wider when you don’t show any recognition at it. “What’s your name?”

You’re so overwhelmed that it’s hard to even sound out the syllables. Your name doesn’t matter, you don’t disillusion yourself to think any of it matters, truly. But the looks remain even when you hesitate, and you find yourself speaking aloud. Though you barely get your name past your lips before you’re turned around by your shoulder, your response setting them alight. You’re left glancing up into a happy grin and pink hair. “You’re dressed up pretty. Nice skirt,” he coos, picking at the edge of it just once before leaning his face a bit closer to yours. “You’re pretty all over, you know that? Really pretty,” he draws out the sound until it sounds almost comical. “Right, Mattsun?”

You believe him when he says it, he looks at you like you’re shining, reflecting light like a diamond. The compliment, not your first but never truer, stews in your veins and boils your blood. There’s a vague hum from behind you, the man who caught you in your fall putting his big hands on your shoulders. Content to be near, if for a moment. With your constantly shifting gaze, you miss the lines on their hands and arms, the overwhelming smell of different colognes mixed with the smell of blood. “Not gonna say ‘thank you’?” He pouts.

“Tha—”

“Be nice, Makki!” The voice drowns out yours. “She’s just flustered. Right?” The unintroduced man smiles down at you again, his pretty face coming so close you can feel hit breaths tickle your cheeks. Kind or not, you jerk back instinctively. He continues, unbothered. “Sweet girls like her aren’t used to this. But we’re not so bad, I promise.” His pretty hand comes up to brush your hair back, cooing when your skin turns up the degrees more. Stupid, silly, your mind screams; it’s like your feet have been cemented to the floor. Like you’ve been here for centuries, and finally someone’s come to worship you.

Though his hand is shoved away from you rather harshly, with a frown. “Oi,” Iwaizumi growls, “let us do it ourselves, Oikawa.” He turns back to you with a certitude, closer and though you try to back away you’re only met with the hard lines of the person behind you. Mattsun still has his hands on your shoulders, rubbing comforting circles into the thin fabric of your blouse. Quiet, but not forgotten. You don’t dare look away from Iwaizumi though, his pretty eyes dark enough to make your heart jump uncomfortably against your ribcage. “He’s right though,” the noiret’s voice sinks low, “we’re not so bad. I think you’d like to see, huh?”

The words feel claustrophobic, your eyes widening. You glance at their faces in confusion, switching between each person quick enough to make you dizzy. “Uhm- I,” you stutter, but a brush up your leg has you gaping, frozen. “I don’t-” The cold fingers trail up the inside of your thigh, too high.

“Of course she does, look how nervous she looks.” Makki is so close now he’s molded to your side, the other men not far behind. “So precious,” he coos. “Here, take my hand for a second.” It is put in your field of vision like a peace offering, the breaths on your neck feeling suffocating. But with his long fingers opened invitingly, it’s almost easy to believe they have good intentions. You give in and drop your smaller hand in his, if only to get rid of the revering stare. Hiro grins wider though, and laces your fingers with his. He giggles, softly. “Like this, isn’t it so easy to just,” he drops your interlaced hands to brush up against his crotch, “put them here.” Every muscle in your body seems to quiver, but spun too tight to move. “You like it, right?” he taunts when you look down at the floor, holding your hand in place stubbornly. “Eheh, I can tell.”

“W-please stop,” you try to pull away, but the grip on your hand only tightens, thumb pressing down hard enough that you jerk back from the pain. “Aw, aw!” It’s painful, like your bone will shatter if he moves wrong, and the harder you pull back the more he clamps down. “That hurts!” you gasp, turning away in Issei’s hold.

“Such a good girl, look at you,” Iwaizumi says, his hands sliding around your waist to secure you a spot against him. You’re struggling now but there’s hands all over. More touch, more overwhelming motions to keep you near. You’re tucked into Mattsun’s chest, each swell of his chest brushing against your shoulder blades. And your cheek is pressed against a face, someone who starts pressing small kisses there. “You’re precious, I could just eat you right up.” Hajime grabs your face to turn it more towards him. On the inside you want to bare your teeth, show your claws and rip yourself out of the fragile shell, but then he presses a kiss to your forehead and all your fight sinks away. You were never the warlike type. You’re small, frightened and worst of all, cowardly. He smiles over your shoulder. “Right?”

“I’m sure she’d like that,” the tallest behind you grins, his deep voice shaking your body in his hold. “Just look at her.” One of his hands slips under the edge of your blouse, sparking like a smoldering ember. Though you start whimpering in their arms, he smiles. “Are you scared, little girl?” he chuckles, hovering his lips over your ear long enough to give you goosebumps. Your breathing is laboured, unable to stop the whimper that comes out.

“Pretty face, pretty hands, pretty legs,” Hanamaki names, his lips glued to the curve of your neck, “I bet you have a pretty tummy too.” He slips his free hand easily under the waistband of your skirt, pulling it away from your skin and you try to push him away to no avail. Though the pressure of his grip on you is anything but playful, he’s grinning like there’s no worry in his mind. “And pretty tits.”

“Guys,” Oikawa breaks the moment to motion his head towards the door then, already holding it open as the stroking continues. “If you would, please.” They’re suddenly pulling away from you, all but Mattsun who turns you in his hold and wraps your arms around his body, picking you up. His large hands under your butt, he chuckles when you gasp at the touch. Your arms are pulled over Issei’s shoulders and grabbed tight, forcing you in place.

You’d been overwhelmed, stunned and frightened, but when Iwa looks at you like you’re a new toy he can’t wait to use, to break; the building feeling shifts into something else. Terror.

“No, no, nononono,” you start pulling back against the brunet, looking around at the four men with big eyes. You try to kick your legs so that he’ll drop you, get fed up, anything. But he carries you into the building without a problem, much stronger than your pitiful attempt. “I have to get home, I can’t come with you,” you squeak, bristling when someone laughs. It’s a mean sound, cold and vicious and it makes your faltering heart drop. There’s an explosion of— some emotion or other, a stutter in your capacity to take in the world. You can only open your eyes wider, hoping that some sense comes through with it.

Excitement and fear always have a similar taste on your tongue, close enough in their thickness to mistake one for the other until it crawls out of your throat with a violent gasp for life. But this is more bitter, a feeling you recognize as panic too late.

“Let go! Let me go!! I don’t want to be here,” you rasp, the feeling slipping out in tears of stress at the corners of your eyes. The door is shut, casting you and them in darkness together.

“Yes, you do.” It’s Oikawa, though you can’t see him. The touch dragging up your back is enough to leave you with shivers. “We’re only going to take a second of your time, promise.” You’re carried deeper into this hall, the cold and draft the least of your worries. Part of you wants to scream, wants to bite and kick until you’re out of the door and as far away from them as you can. But a bigger part of you is more afraid of what they’ll do in retaliation, so you just bite your lip and try to control your tears.

“Hey, we promise,” the strawberry blond echoes, slipping around the tallest to shove his lips to yours. A deep rumble comes from his chest when you tilt your head away from him and against Mattsun’s neck instead. But he’s undeterred, instead pressing a few kisses to your wrist. “We’ll take real good care of you.” You can’t shake the feeling that their promises count for nothing. And as his long, scarred fingers tangle with yours like a mimicry of comfort, you can’t help but wonder. If those words on that page were written with so much conviction because the thing penning them down was the same as these men. Beastly, ungrateful monsters.

//

part 2 coming soon

[secondhoekage]

Ignore this long rant I’m high as shit but I... can’t take the hero commission oR HONESTLY THE HEROES THEMSELVES, seriously anymore

They’re BRAINLESS they all share one (1) brain cell and it belonged to Crust. THESE GUYS had MONTHS to strategize this attack and what did they do? They fucked it up. They want me to believe this was planned and not written on a chalk board the night before? Sent out to all heroes the next morning at 8am in a CHAIN EMAIL?

Unpopular opinion(?): they sent the worst possible, ill-suited heroes to each location for this PLF raid and I’m mad at them for it and I’m mad at Hori for making me be mad at it even tho he had to do it beCauSe oF pLot but I’m mad.

The MLA’s plans to take on The League of Villains? Spotless. Chef’s kiss. The detail. The one-on-one counters they planned out. Accounting for each enemy’s quirk. Yeah there were like 6 of them to account for but?? Heroes, yall had enough info and enough time to think of ways to go about this raid and I’m supposed to believe that you did, BUT DID YOU REALLY? MONTHS TO PLAN, and saw one electric Sir Crocodile rip-off and immediately threw Kaminari on his ass. Good move. Kinda. But the rest of the PLF? Heroes just gonna make shit up as they go I guess?? 

To make myself feel better here’s a long ass useless rant on what could’ve damn happened and which heroes should’ve gone where and to make this an epic ass rumble. ugh. Even just doing some of these things would’ve made this arc (imo) feel more... convincing and delicious

under the cut tho bc damn this is too long

In this essay I will—

Edgeshot??? EDGESHOT??    EDGESHOT?? i’M GOING TO GO OFF. 

I swear to shit Edgeshot could’ve soloed the hospital but they had him at the PLF mansion for Some Reason like... like they didn’t make him run up on the League’s bar instead of the Nomu factory bc they knew he would take care of shit immediately. Make it make sense. If he was at the hospital eye just—Nomu in the way?? Doctor running off? Say less. Electric slide all the way in there Shinya. DID NO ONE SEE HOW EASILY HE HANDLED KUROGIRI? Did everyone just forget this man can pull a K.O in .3 seconds flat? Heroes didn’t think it might be a good idea to have him there, ready to give Shigaraki the paper cut of his life the second he woke up (if he even did bc my mans likely could’ve prevented the ‘doctor getting away>high-end awaken>rush to get shiggy out of the tank>shiggy wakes up’ chain of events)? Didn’t think to send him instead of this guy X Less just sitting there with That Look on his face? 

I get they needed heroes like Edgeshot at the mansion to take out a handful of enemies in one go but COME ON NOW. There were more than enough long-range AOE heroes there. And even if you don’t wanna believe he could solo then STILL, EDGESHOT DUOING WITH MIRUKO, ANYBODY? If anyone was gonna keep up with her happy ass zooming into the lab it could’ve been him. We were robbed of an Edgeshot/Miruko teamup and I’m not okay. Could’ve had a sexy ass panel of the hospital-team hyping up Miruko and Edgeshot as they dashed to Ujiko’s lab, two fast as shit bad bitches, zooming through these Nomu, absolutely obliterating them at lightning speed, watching each other’s backs too, PROBABLY SAVING MIRUKO FROM BECOMING THE PRE-DEATH ORGAN DONOR THAT SHE IS NOW. I know it was hot watching Miruko take on these high-ends but I’d have rather Edgeshot share the spotlight if it meant Miruko was in one piece rn. Hori played her

Anyways the literal dumb bitch energy that went into not sending Edgeshot to the hospital is sending me. Could’ve at least let him just be on the team and on standby while Shigaraki was waking up. With those sharp as shit reflexes of his we’ve seen? Shigaraki would’ve been out like a fucking light the second Edgeshot saw him sit up. X-Less you had a nice thicc upper lip that lip was too shaded for you to die, but F in the chat bitch. Useless plot fodder I’m sorry X-Less. There isn’t a hero there right now (besides Aizawa but like... idk, plot is nerfing him) that could’ve incapacitated Shiggy so quickly and prevented the mess they’re in now like my guy Edgeshot could’ve. Feels like a cop out

In conclusion: Edgeshot sweety I’m sorry they did this. I’m sorry you were nerfed. I’m sorry they didn’t let you deliver Kamino Pizza to this hospital. I’m sorry they ignored you and now everyone’s gonna die bc they didn’t they respect your Ninpo rights

CEMENTOSS??? y’all sent him to fuck up the mansion FOR WHAT??? If I were the hero commission and thought :

“Dang we need to completely ass blast this huge PLF resort to make room for our heroes to run in... but it would also be good if we had someone to do that at the hospital too just in case things get tricky and we need to pave a quick way to Ujiko’s secret hideout... but I’m single-celled and can’t weigh my options logically so ok. Cementoss, to the mansion.”

...................... Ok but can I in interest you in PIXIE BOB? I get the mansion is huge but going by the shit we’ve seen her do?? I’m not about to underestimate ol’ girl. I know she could’ve fucked that place up if they let her, switched her out for Cementoss, who could’ve made THE EASIEST route for the hospital team to get into the secret lab, trapped Ujiko, also trapped a couple nomu/high-ends in cement while he was at it, rearranged some tunnels for optimal tactical movement, probably could’ve done a decent-fucking-job at slowing the onslaught of Decay too if it got to that point (AND IT MIGHT NOT HAVE BC THE WHOLE POINT OF THIS RANT IS TO INSIST THAT A BETTER SELECTION OF HEROES WOULDN’T HAVE RESULTED IN SHIGGY’S CURRENT THANOS SNAP ORdEAL)

I know Pixie’s mostly on rescue operations and that’s what she’s doing at the hospital/surrounding city but WHY?? EVEN IF THEY REALLY NEEDED CEMENTOSS AT THE MANSION—WHY NOT HAVE PIXIE BOB DOING SOMETHING IN THE ACTUAL HOSPITAL BATTLE? JUST A LITTLE? The hospital is built on uh.. oh yeah... EARTH? And considering in the Forest Training arc she was using her quirk from a remote location (to make that Earth golem, or whatever) she wouldn’t even HAVE to be IN Ujiko’s lab to be useful

Can y’all PLEASE put at least ONE of your terraforming heroes at the place where y’all REALLY need them?? And not after-the-fact like y’all just did with Pixie Bob? Because clearly she didn’t do shit this last chapter trying to stop Decay. I’m sorry girl. You may be dead. Terrible.

I would have legitimately sent Snipe to get Ujiko before I sent Miruko and that’s that on that. Where is he even? He was there during the briefing but he’s gone? MIA? Idk. No way Ujiko is getting away from those bullets. Target locked: Ujiko’s hand. Fire. High-end Nomu remote goes bye bye. Then another bullet in the leg. No need to worry about him escaping and waking up high-ends/Shiggy when he doesn’t have kneecaps. Problem solved. No way it would’ve taken that long to break Shiggy’s tank either with a few well-placed pew pews zigging around some Nomu (not that we really wanna break him outta his tank bc look what happened). Snipe’s 6/5 technique stat deserves better!!!!!

Gang Orca did not go off and give a bunch of kids brain damage during the License arc to be so thoroughly ignored here. He’s clearly about to get his shit rocked by some gauged-out ex-Hot Topic employee in the next few chapters and ugh you’re TOO GOOD FOR THAT ORCA. COULD’VE BEEN OF USE AT THE HOSPITAL. PARALYZING SONIC WAVES? WE’LL TAKE IT. Who knows if any of the high-end Nomu would’ve been affected by paralysis but the small fry? Probably. Shiggy’s little twink ass? I would bet on it. Not that it would really stop him from using Decay but still

At the risk of sounding like someone I know who endorses child labor (the hero commission) here me out: CAN I GET A UHHH JUZO HONENUKI??? AGAIN YEAH good that he was at the mansion to do some long-range AOE action but if y’all are gonna force kids to join in on this war anyways, put your strongest and most useful ones at the place you need them. Shit it would’ve been real nice if Honenuki was there to trap some Nomu—uncertain if it would work against the high-ends that show some pretty flexible quirks but who knows—and even at the risk of reaching, maybe in some universe where Shiggy and Honenuki face off, it would be interesting to see Decay against Softening, since Decay’s one big weakness is that it can only work on solid objects sooOooOo? Idk. Would’ve been a cool match up but I hate that the kids are fighting anyways so we’re gonna ignore this Juzo rant. Just know it would’ve been cool

And as for the mess that’s going to be this fucking mansion soon... .. We’re just gonna ignore a whole ass Geten, big destructive power, big fucking threat, and not gonna throw Endeavor’s ass in there? Makes sense. They’re leaving it to Shoto I guess. They said time for you to fucking shine kid. Get in there. I mean really trading Endeavor for Edgeshot would’ve been top tier strategy but...

I MEAN THEY?? Made up a whole ass plan to counter ONE greasy-looking PLF guy by throwing Kaminari in there, but they couldn’t make up a plan to counter Geten? Are they just?? Pulling names out of a hat to see who gets to fight who? Did they spin a bottle to see who it landed on? Did Mt. Lady pull the short stick? I swear on shit when Geten starts going feral soon I’m not gonna feel sorry about it. Unless heroes got a plan and someone’s gonna make a sexy ass top 10 anime entrances to counter his ice then I’m disappointed. We went ape shit over Kaminari countering one of the commanders but are we not gonna get anymore ‘I’m your perfect counter and I’m here to stop you’ moments? No? I’M PISSED. 

I would have also settled for my kween Nejire being there to blast away some ice because who tf else is gonna do it? But eh. 

Dabi will also be trouble depending on what he decides to do. He only has about 3 good ideas a month and he’s used them all up by now so he’s in dumb slut territory as we speak. But you’d think that a villain as widely recognized as Dabi with such a destructive quirk would urge the heroes to have some plan to take him on but?? So far I don’t really see anyone quick to take on the role. Not that it’d be that hard bc he’s dangerous but also dangerously dumb. Where is Inasa. Maybe he can just blast the flames back in Dabi’s face. I love him but at this point he deserves to have some of his rights taken away

Don’t even get me start on Gigantomachia. I get the heroes had little choice except to attack before Shiggy was full-power but just?? NOT having a plan in case by some little chance Gigantomachia DID wake up? You stupid bastards. You absolute fools. I guess there’s not much you CAN do but FUCK y’all just gonna let him SIT THERE? No counter measures? No ‘Let’s execute this incredibly thorough and thought-out plan we’ve spent months formulating to restrain Gigantomachia in case he does end up waking up, because better safe than sorry’? When he tramples like 50 students I bet that shit gonna hurt

I hate it all. I was really happy about seeing Shiggy go off 272 bc he’s a king but after rereading from like, 258 I feel... weird. Maybe this will be resolved with more chapters but. eh. Now that I’ve thought of this, I can’t go back. I miss the brain power that was behind the MLA fight

[teawithkpop]

[M] - PhysCom - Pt 6

pt 1 - pt 2 - pt 3 - bc 1 - pt 4 - pt 5 - pt 6

Pairing: BTS - OT7 x Reader

Rating: Mature [18+]

Length: 6.0k words

Genre: PhysCom AU - smut with dashes of angst, and a shitload of romance and complicated feelings,, uhuhu (porn with plot??)

Warnings: swearing, sex with ulterior motives, dirty talk, dom!yoongi, oral sex (male and female receiving), throat fucking, spanking, clothed sex, unprotected sex, ripping clothes, degradation, throat holding (not to the degree of choking), licking, cum play, it’s nasty it’s just nASTY

I hope you don’t all hate me after this ahahahahahaha love you guys <3

☕💕 If you enjoy this work, please consider supporting me and my writing on KoFi ^^ ☕💕

-------

We must build a brighter future for PhysComs.    They are people, just like you and me, and they are severely undervalued in our society. We employ them, we rely on them, and yet, they are ignored at best, and abused at worst, with punishment and persecution waiting should they dare to speak out about the horrific injustices through which they suffer.    We cannot live in this double standard. I refuse to accept it, and I urge you to open your hearts and imagine what it would feel like to be needed but shamed. To be relied upon, but to never receive recognition for your efforts. They are people, just like us. They live among us, yet they are treated like ghosts.    As of now, Physical Companions are employed by most entertainment companies, but are given no benefits and no job security. They have only the protection of their own agencies and any underground communication they might have between each other.    These people should be respected. They should not be forced to live in the shadows.    It’s time that we acknowledge and thank these tireless workers, and provide them with some support in return for all of the support that they provide this industry.

You read over the words again and again until they become a continuous stream of overlapping thoughts, filling you with utter confusion.

What the fuck does this mean?

You look away from your ComGear and pull up the document on Namjoon’s computer again. “Jungkook!” You call out to him, your heart hammering, and the door opens enough for him to poke his head through, his eyes widened expectantly.

“Yeah?”

You hastily gesture for him to come in, your eyes glued to the screen. “Come read this. Out loud.”

He seems confused, but comes up beside you and looks over the document, murmuring as he reads. “We must build a brighter future for PhysComs…"

As he confirms by reading back to you what you’ve seen with your own eyes, your confusion heightens to a fever pitch, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Is this… an essay? About PhysComs?

“Wow,” Jungkook says softly, his eyes scanning the words in fascination. But when he turns to look at you, you can see that it isn’t fascination at all. His eyes contain something that stirs worry in your gut. “I, uh… I didn’t realize things were so bad for you.”

Pity.

No. No, this is bad. This can’t be happening.

Your brief feeling of ease at finally getting some answers vanishes in an instant as your mind becomes a whirlwind, spiraling down, down, down… You can see, clear as day, what will happen if Namjoon shows this essay to the other boys.

You’ll become someone they pity.

Pity is bad, pity isn’t hot, pity isn’t sexy, pity isn’t fuckable, pity means they’ll feel bad when you do your job, pity means they’ll use other sluts to lessen your burden, pity means they give you more fucking vacation time, pity means they’ll never look at you the same way again, pity means-

You don’t realize you’re short of breath until you’re gasping, hyperventilating, your knuckles white against the dark armrests of the chair.

Jungkook is beside you. He’s saying something but all you can hear is a high pitched whine and the thunder of your own pulse as it crashes in your ears, reminding you with every thump of your beating heart that you’re a failure.

You’ve failed.

You stand up, probably a little too fast, as your vision grows dark in the corners. Jungkook immediately goes to help you when you stumble, but you fend him off.

"I'm fine." You put a hand to your head, trying to force it to stop throbbing. "I don't need your help."

He seems hesitant to reply.

“Where is Namjoon? I-I need to-” Your voice trails off as stars swim in your vision. “Fuck…”

The room becomes blurry, and you feel weightless as you sink to the floor, the distant echo of Jungkook’s frantic voice fading into nothingness.

-------

“Some clients may become… misguided.” Madame paces in front of the class, checking everyone’s form and breathing as they lay on their backs at their stations, legs propped and parted as fucking machines train you all for stamina.

This is a relaxing class, despite the nature of it. After a while, you barely even notice the dildo sliding in and out of you, the whir of the machines becomes background noise. It’s a good chance to focus and meditate.

“They may come to hold… pity for you.” Madame bites on the word as she lowers her ever present riding crop, gently coaxing one girl’s legs further apart.

“They’ll think, aww, the poor little sluts are forced to be used. They’re being objectified. They don’t get a say.” You can barely see Madame’s arm from your position as she drags the riding crop along the girl’s thigh, and the girl shivers in pleasure.

“Pity is useless, girls. This is your job. You don’t pity the mailman for having to be out in the weather. Safety is key, and rules are in place for a reason. That’s why people never hire just one Physical Companion.”

The class snickers at this. The idea is preposterous. PhysComs are always hired in sets, proportional to the amount of clients they’ll be serving.

“You are never forced to serve your client. You are independent contractors. Anything you do for them, you do willingly. This is why we train. To broaden our capabilities, and make ourselves-” Here, she adjusts the setting on one girl’s machine. The dildo moves faster, causing the girl to let out a breathy moan.  “-as flexible as possible for our perspective clients.”

You inhale steadily as Madame examines you, her eye keen enough to pick up every detail of your posture, every twitch of your muscles. She clicks a setting on your machine and you feel the dildo expand slightly in girth, stretching you out further.

You smile and sigh at the stretch, proud to beat your previous record for time needed to move up a size. Madame’s expression gives away no approval, but you can tell from the twitch in her lip that she finds you to be a promising pupil.

She moves on, examining the next girl in line. “Our job is to assure them. To remind our clients why we are here. When we are with our clients, we are purely sexual beings.”

The girl beside you has her hands clapped to her mouth, trying desperately to conceal her noises. You can see her legs quivering and feel a twist of pride at being one of the few people eligible for an orgasm suppressant. Until you get your Opticon implanted, it’s an excellent advantage for stamina training.

Madame returns to her post at the front of the class, her sharp gaze sweeping over each of you as she continues her lecture. “If you are pitied by your client, then you have failed to make them see you as useful. Useless toys are thrown away.”

-------

Regaining consciousness is like being pulled up from the depths.

You vaguely register the softness of a bed beneath you. You blearily open your eyes, and see someone sitting at your side, their face swimming in your vision.

“Jagiya,” Taehyung pets your cheek, his large hands warm against your clammy skin, his voice is gentle. “Are you with me?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, suppressing a groan as you shove yourself onto your elbows.

“Woah, woah,” He stops you, guiding you to lay back down. “Easy there. How are you feeling?”

You feel like shit, honestly. Your head is still pounding and there’s a ringing in your ears, though the dizziness has faded significantly.

“I’m fine,” you croak, surprised at how weak your voice sounds. You wish you had the strength to shove him off, but your hands are braced uselessly on his arms.

A quick glance at your surroundings tells you that you’re back in your bedroom. How did you get here? The memories of what you discovered begin to come back to you, and with them, your sense of urgency returns. You try to push him off again. “N-need to see Namjoon...”

Taehyung shakes his head with an air of duty. “Namjoon isn’t home yet, but he said to keep you company and make sure you don’t overexert yourself.” He rearranges your arms and tucks the blanket up around your shoulders, then reaches for something on the night table and gently coaxes a straw to your lips. “Here, have some water.”

You reluctantly take a sip. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry.

He seems satisfied, and gives a nod before setting the drink down.

"What happened?” You ask with a looming sense of dread.

“You fainted,” he replies somberly.

You squint at him. “Yeah, I meant after that.”

His face brightens in understanding. “Oh! Well, Jungkook said he tried to call Namjoon as soon as you collapsed, but he didn't answer right away so he had to leave a voicemail. Then he brought you back here to your room instead. Carried you the whole way.”

There’s amusement in his eyes, though you can’t imagine what he finds funny about the situation. “It was perfect timing, so I said I’d look after you until you woke up.” He smiles warmly. “And now you’re awake.”

“What do you mean perfect timing?”

His smile falters for a moment. “Because... I just got home from shopping. See?” He says brightly, gesturing to some shopping bags sitting by your door with big name brands on them.

You also notice that your door handle is broken clean off.

“What… happened to my door?” You gape at the sight.

“Oh, I guess it must have been locked when Jungkook brought you home.” Taehyung chuckles. “I don’t think an elephant could have stopped him. You had him really worried.”

Something inside you feels warm at the notion that Jungkook would care so much.

And that warmth is immediately doused by frigid guilt.

Fuck, what are you thinking?

You’ve let them get too close, you’ve let them see your struggles, you’ve let them see you as a human being, as someone to worry about, instead of a mindless toy. Namjoon has written an entire persuasive essay about the supposed plight through which he believes you’re suffering.

You’ve become too relaxed around them. Fuck, you’re sitting here letting Taehyung fuss over you, when you should be offering him your body, sucking him dry, and letting him fuck your brains out.

That document puts things back into perspective. Letting this… tentative emotional connection that you've started with them go any further could be career ruining. Not just for you, but for the rest of their PhysComs. The dozens of Secondaries they employ could be at risk for losing their jobs too, if your clients suddenly feel guilty for using your services.

And then what? The members’ sexual drives will get out of hand. They won’t be regulated, they might stick their dick into a lucky fan and end up with a pregnancy scandal to cover up, or they’ll become tired, sluggish, and distracted due to unregulated sexual maintenance, which could affect their performance.

You are a necessary piece of their daily routine, their health, their jobs.

Vacation be damned, you are not about to let Namjoon’s blind optimism put himself, the other boys, or your own career at risk. It's for his own good.

You should have deleted the damn document when you had the chance. But it would have been too late anyway. Once they see you in that light, once they start pitying you, then that flicker of doubt will linger in their minds no matter how much you try to extinguish it.

You need to remind them of your place.

Jungkook and Namjoon are lost causes, they’ve both been exposed to the document’s propaganda. But there's still that mysterious vote they’ll be having by the end of the week, presumably about your future. That means you still have a chance. If you can convince a majority of them to view you once more as a purely sexual being…

You try to clear your head, mustering your strength to serve, but before you can ask Taehyung how he wants to use your body, he speaks.

“You do so much for us, jagiya.” Taehyung keeps his hands braced on your arms, his thumb rubbing gently against your skin. “You’re always there for us. Always giving.”

Your whole body tenses. You don’t like where this is going. He’s starting to sound an awful lot like Namjoon.

Taehyung seems to sense your discomfort, because he leans closer and bestows a fleeting kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s time for you to receive.” His eyes are warm as he stares down at you, and he holds a glimmer of something secretive in his smile, like he just told a private joke.

Your confusion grows. “Taehyung… what are you talking about?”

“He’ll be here any minute,” he says by way of an answer, and gives your shoulder a squeeze. “Just relax, jagiya. You deserve this.”

“What do you-?”

But before you can question what he means and why he’s acting so strangely, your door swings open, and Min Yoongi enters.

“Here to take over,” he says, his mouth and nose still covered by the same black mask from earlier.

Taehyung looks surprised, almost shocked. “Where’s Jimin? He was supposed to-”

“Asked me to come instead.” Yoongi lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “Said something about not feeling right.”

You look between the two of them. Taehyung’s mouth flaps like a fish and Yoongi sighs, coming over to take his place. “Come on, you’ve been up here for hours.”

Hours? What time is it? You reach for your ComGear and find that it’s not in your utility belt.

“No, but Jimin is supposed to-” 

Oh, there it is. Plugged in, resting on your night table. Maybe Jungkook saw that the battery was low. That boy is way too considerate.

“Why don’t you go check on him, then?” Yoongi doesn’t give Taehyung any room for argument, staring him down. “I think he went to the practice room.” 

Why is it on the settings screen? Shouldn’t it still be in your emails from earlier…? Weird.

Taehyung reluctantly stands up and takes a few steps towards the door, shifting his weight with uncertainty. He looks to you, then back at Yoongi. “But she was about to ask me something.”

You put aside your ComGear, pushing away any prior thoughts to focus on your mission. “It’s okay, we’ll talk later,” you assure him with a nod, your mind whirring into action.

You have to remind five men of your place as their personal sex slave, if all goes well. The order in which you remind them of this is inconsequential. Plus it might be more effective to go for Taehyung later. He may be less eager to fuck you after nursing you back to health.

But Yoongi… you haven’t seen him since earlier in the day. Yoongi doesn't have feelings for you. Yoongi’s only ever known you as a slut, which makes him an easy target.

Taehyung doesn’t look happy about leaving, but he nods, retrieves his shopping bags from the floor, and gives both of you a final glance before shutting the door.

You wait just long enough to know Taehyung is out of earshot. Yoongi walks over to your vanity, takes off the jacket he’d been wearing and drapes it over the back of the chair, leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt and black sweatpants.

While he isn’t looking, you carefully sit up and shed your oversized hoodie, leaving you topless. Time to get back to business.

You take a deep breath and slip into your persona. It feels good to wear it again, you feel less dizzy, more focused. Ready to fuck.

“Did you miss me, Master Min?”

Yoongi freezes, his back to you. You suppress a laugh. You know you’ve caught him off-guard.

“I’m sorry?” He tugs down his face mask and turns around, only to see you in nothing but a pair of leggings, perched prettily on the edge of your bed. His eyes widen only marginally, but it’s a big reaction, coming from him. "What are you doing?"

You tilt your head to the side and cover your breasts with your hands, groping and squeezing them together. “What do you think I’m doing, Master?” You bite your lower lip, keeping eye contact with him while you feel yourself, rolling a nipple between your fingers. “You always tell me to show off my pretty body.”

Yoongi looks off to the side, averting his eyes to your actions, but the tent forming in his pants tells you he didn’t look away soon enough. “Stop fucking around. You're suspended.” He says, echoing your words from earlier in the day.

You hum in agreement, a pout forming on your lips. “Mm, but I don’t want to be.” You let out a desperate, breathy sigh. “I want to be filled with your cock, Master. I need it.”

You watch his adam’s apple bob. His weight shifts. His lips press together. Every movement you analyze for signs of weakness. It’s like playing chess.

“I know you want me, Master,” you purr, sprawling back onto the bed. You bring one hand down to your core, massaging your mound through the stretchy material. “I’m yours for the taking. No one has to know.”

"Is that what you really want?" He asks with a distinct note of skepticism.

You bristle, but try to hide your irritation. Here they go again with their fucking consent.

“Yes, of course, Master.” You mold your face into submissive desire. “It's my dream to be a good little slut for you. Being stuffed with your thick cock, pounded into the mattress, and pumped full of your seed,” you whine, grinding against your hand for effect. It feels good, better than usual, and you come to find that you mean what you said. 

Sex actually sounds good right now, if you’re being honest. A good fucking might be just what you need to forget your worries, so it’s really a win-win.

You sense Yoongi’s hesitance, and you try to think of a way to convince him that you’re serious. The only off-the-clock sex you’ve had so far was with Hoseok, and that had been… far too intimate. But maybe some of the same principles could apply here. Hoseok had wanted you to want it. He’d asked you to use his name.

“Yoongi,” you breathe his name, dropping your character for just a moment. His eyes snap to yours. “I want you.”

He stares at you for a second. Two. Then he’s hovering over you, hands planted on either side of your shoulders.

“You want me?” His breath is warm and heavy, and you can see the way his pupils dilate when he looks at you.

Your heart skips a beat at his unexpected intensity. You nod, your lips slightly parted as he holds his body only inches away from you.

He seems at war with himself, his jaw working as his eyes roam down to your chest, then travel slowly back up, settling on your widened eyes, your pink bitten lips.

"Fuck it," he mutters, and surges down to crush his lips to yours.

It's unexpected. He's never shown any interest in kissing you, he's always preferred shoving his fingers in your mouth.

But you're grateful for that, because if he'd ever tried to kiss you before, you don't think you would've been able to keep your composure.

Yoongi is like fire. His lips are searing with passion, his tongue flickers and licks into your mouth. It's a stark contrast to his icy fingers as they brush against your ribs.

He's full of contradictions. His kiss is greedy but controlled. He grinds his thigh between your legs, causing you to moan, but his hands are feather light as they caress your breasts. He's fire and ice.

You feel yourself getting hotter by the minute, and all too soon, he breaks away from the kiss, leaving you gasping as he trails his mouth down your neck, biting a bruise there.

"Ah! Yoongi…" Your fingers twine through his hair of their own accord, and you're appalled at how easily you've given in to your desires. But it's all for the cause. You're saving careers.

He groans, his voice low and tempting as he kisses and licks your skin. "You really want me, princess?"

Your chest heaves as you catch your breath. "Yes. Fuck, yes, please…"

"You want me to fuck that greedy cunt of yours? Fill you to the brim?"

His words light a fire in you, and you writhe beneath him. "I want it so much, Master. Please fuck me…"

He grabs your jaw. "You're my slut."

He says it more like a question than a statement. You nod as much as he'll allow.

He drags his thumb across your cheek and dips it into your mouth. "You're mine. I can use you however I want…"

You didn't think he'd be so easy to convince. Well, mission accomplished, you suppose. One down, four to go.

You suck greedily on his thumb in answer, widening your eyes to draw him in. He hums, pressing down on your tongue and making you gag around the digit.

"Good girl." His eyes are half lidded as he looks at you. Then something changes, a sharp glint appearing in his gaze as he removes his thumb and squeezes your jaw, forcing your mouth open.

He licks past your lips in a kiss of complete dominance. Despite his control, he's gentle, savoring your taste, praising you for it between breaths.

While your mouth is occupied, his other hand snakes down to cup your heat, palming you through your frustratingly thin leggings. His dexterous fingers find your clit faster than you would expect, and he circles the pads of his fingers there intently, nothing but the thin material separating him from your skin.

You buck into his hand, though you hope he doesn't keep you there for too long. You know the ache between your thighs will only get worse with no release.

"So fucking wet…" he mutters, pulling back from exploring your mouth to lick a possessive stripe up your cheek. "Tell me how much you want me, slut. Beg for it."

"Please!" You whine, falling into the familiar routine. "Please, Master, all I want is your cock inside me! I need it, I want it so badly…"

Yoongi exhales through his nose, and soon he's up and off of you. "All fours."

This is what you're used to. The familiarity of being told what to do, knowing what's going to happen next, it makes you relax. You get in the position he asks, wiggling your ass towards him.

But Yoongi needs no encouragement. He spanks you hard, rubbing his hands all over the smooth material covering your ass. "Fuck, so juicy…"

He's silent for a moment, and his hands still. You're about to say something to provoke him when there's the distinct noise of ripping fabric behind you. Your hips jerk towards him as he tears the seam of the leggings right down your core, exposing you.

"Yoongi!"

But he's already digging in, dragging his tongue along your folds and sucking at your dripping cunt. His hands grip your ass, spreading you apart for him, and you quiver, his tongue igniting sparks as it plunges within you.

You try not to let it get to you, but the lack of constant sex must have made you extra sensetive. Every thrust and flicker of his tongue has you breathless, squirming, needing more. It was never like this before, you have to pull yourself together. Keep control.

But Yoongi seems to like your enthusiasm. He hums, and the vibrations buzz at your clit, sending tingles straight up your spine. You let out a shriek of surprise as he sucks on the overly sensitive bud and you feel yourself throb.

Fuck, he's too good at this. How did he get so good at this? Your arms give out, and you fall onto the bed, your face buried in the duvet as Yoongi fucks you expertly with his tongue.

"S-stop…" you plead weakly, trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment that will soon follow if he keeps this up.

"What? I didn't hear you use your safeword, slut." He growls, landing a warning spank on your rear ashe rises onto the bed behind you. A shuffle of fabric as he pulls down his sweatpants. "You like this, don't you? You like being exposed. Being treated like a pornstar? Dirty girl."

You do. Fuck, you do. Especially when Min Yoongi happens to be the actor starring with you.

You feel him tap the head of his cock against your ass, slide the thick length along your center. "Look at how fucking wet you are already. So desperate... pathetic."

You feel a flash of heat at his assessment. Yoongi's always enjoyed a little degradation, but his choice of words hits a little too close to home in this particular scenario for you to fully embrace it.

You cover your embarrassment with a thicker cloud of pretend. "Of course I'm dripping, Master. I'm your fuck doll. I live to service your cock..."

"Damn right, you do." He shoves into you without warning, and you gasp for real. Fuck, you've been denied dick for less than twenty-four hours, and you're already off your game? Come on, shake it off. Get in the rhythm of it.

But Yoongi sets such a relentless pace, it's impossible for you to keep up. It's as if he's got something to prove. He fucks into you so hard it hurts. You moan and try to relax, try to cling to the familiarity, but you feel a weird pressure building in your chest. It makes it hard to breathe, hard to focus.

He takes your moans and gasps as a sign to go harder, and he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back. His hand slips around your neck, holding you in place while he growls against you, his nose digging into your cheek. "Gonna fuck the living shit outta you… yeah? That's what you want? Gonna make you see stars and beg for my cock, over and over until I say so."

You moan in gratitude. You're grateful he's so easy to convince. You're his slut, and he knows it. This is where you belong. You feel happy. Safe. You smile, closing your eyes as Min Yoongi fucks into you like a freight train, and you finally get a moment’s peace from the past day’s turmoil.

He suddenly grunts, lifting himself off of you. "This cock belongs in your filthy mouth." He pulls out of you and takes you firmly by the shoulder. You hastily follow his implications to sit up.

He grabs his cock at the base and guides it to your face, nudging your cheek and spreading the coated wetness across your skin. You get a glimpse of his length - rock hard, nearly purple, and leaking - before he stuffs it down your throat. You relax, humming and taking all of him and gagging obediently upon request, just like always.

"Such a good whore, yeah…  just like that," he moans, bracing his hand behind your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. "This is how it should be, yeah?"

You hum around him in confirmation, glad that you're both on the same page.

"You're our slut. Nothing will ever fucking change that… " he starts rutting into your mouth, and you obediently let him fuck your throat.

He huffs, his voice dropping lower, “No use pretending you can be anything else.”

The change in his tone of voice is so stark, it gives you pause. You almost lose your concentration. He sounds almost... sad? Why would he be sad? Are you doing something wrong?

You redouble your efforts to please him.

"Look at you. So filthy." He praises you softly as you gurgle around him, drool starting to leak from your mouth. His roughness starts to return at the sight of you, and you beam with pride as he resumes his filthy dialogue. "This is what you want, isn't it? To choke on our dicks all day, huh? This what you signed up for?"

He pulls out to let you gasp in a breath, then shoves right back down. He does this a few more times, letting the blowjob get sloppy. You nod desperately between thrusts, assuring him of your devotion. You graze your hands over his clothed thighs, caressing him while he fucks your throat.

“Nothing else matters.” Yoongi huffs, and as his face swims back in forth in your vision, he looks resolute.

You surge forward to hold his length down your throat, swallowing around him, your nose touching his abdomen.

He groans, pulling your hair taut and holding you in place. "Yeah, that's it…. You were built for this, weren't you?"

He finally lets you come back for air, but no sooner do you take a messy gasp than he pushes you backwards onto the bed and crawls on top of you.

"Say it." He grabs you by the jaw again, and his voice is low and soft, his eyes like hot coals. "Tell me what you want."

You sputter and gasp, still reclaiming your breath, but obediently say what he wants to hear. "I want you, Yoongi. I want your cock..."

He let go of your face and hoists your legs up, bending you in half. "You're gonna get it, too," he mutters, grabbing your calves, keeping them up and out of the way as he shoves his thick cock into you again.

You moan compliantly, gasping and staring up at him. This is all going according to plan, you just have to hang on and not let your throbbing pussy distract you from the goal.

"You want to be a whore, huh?" He asks, maintaining a gravitational sort of eye contact as he slowly slides in and out of you, torturing you. "Cum for me. Cum around my cock."

You shiver and within a few moments, clench around him convincingly, letting your eyes roll back as you moan in delight.

"Cumming on command, within seconds... look at that." He braces your legs with one arm and starts rubbing your clit with his other hand as he picks up the pace. You feel a jolt as his thumb circles the little bundle of nerves, and you actually flinch.

"So sensitive." He growls, reading your mind. "What a needy cunt."

You can't form any words, the way he's kneading your clit has your head thrown back, your breath coming in gasps. It’s never felt like this.

Yoongi picks up on your arousal, and quickly gains speed, fucking you relentlessly, with little grunts of his own as he keeps you spread wide open for him, watching as your pussy takes his cock over and over again.

After endless minutes of stimulation, your core is swollen and aching, but still somehow desperate for more.

Yoongi's hips buck and stutter, and without warning, he leaves you painfully empty, clenching around nothing. His cock in his fist, he pumps himself to completion, letting his seed cover your puffy, aching pussy.

"Yeah, yeah, that's it…" he grunts, using his cock head to smear his release along your folds.

You start to relax, trying to overcome the disappointment your body feels at getting frustratingly uselessly stimulated.

But before you know it, Yoongi is lining himself up with your entrance again. "You thought we were done?" He chuckles darkly, using his cock to collect cum around your entrance, then he sheathes himself to the hilt with a low groan.

It feels so fucking good, you can't think straight. You cry out, your body desperate and screaming for more but knowing it's not enough, and it'll never be enough.

"Yeah, you want it deep inside you, don't you, you little cum slut?" He mutters, shoving his fingers into your mouth, and you're grateful that he's muffling your embarrassing noises.

"Gonna fuck you like the worthless little whore you are," he barks, ruthlessly slamming into you, and you moan with every thrust.

You would have said something if you still had an ounce of coherent thought in your brain, but the sensations are quickly taking over. Your whole body is wound up, desperate for something. His fingers reach down to rub hastily at your swollen clit and your vision blurs, your pulse pounds in your ears - are you going to faint again?

No.

You peak.

A scream catches in your throat, broken and gutterel as pleasure takes over your entire body, coursing through you in waves, lifting your body off the bed, convulsing, throbbing through you, inside and out.

It feels so good it hurts. You want to stay in this moment, extend it for as long as possible, but you know there's something wrong. Your mind is so addled, you're scared, terrified, before you even remember why.

You shouldn’t be capable of climax. Something’s wrong.

Yoongi keeps fucking you, grunting as you clench around his cock, but you're clawing at him, begging him to stop, tears leaking down your cheeks. Something’s wrong.

He realizes you aren't moaning anymore, but wailing. Sobbing. Something's wrong. He pulls out of you, shouting to be heard above your panic. He looks scared. Guilty.

Just then your door bursts open, and Jimin enters the room with a shout, quickly followed by Taehyung.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-” Jimin’s eyes fall to your compromising position, Yoongi’s dick still out, your leaking core exposed, and claps a hand over his mouth. He looks like he might cry. “Oh no...”

Taehyung’s mouth falls open, and he appears too alarmed to speak, apart from a very small, “Fuck.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? What’s your fault?” Yoongi’s shouts at Jimin and Taehyung are drowned out by the rush of blood in your ears as your shoulders shake from dry sobs. Your eyes flash between the two younger members, their guilty expressions, and you remember your private conversation with Jimin just yesterday.

"There is a way to turn it off, in case of emergency side effects. But I can't just turn it off for fun. You have to understand that.” You rest your hand on his shoulder again, hoping he now comprehends the reason for your earlier outburst. “It's a part of my job."

"I understand. Sorry,” he says, giving you a small nod. He twists his mouth to the side, chewing over the revelations. "That must really suck. Not being able to cum."

He’s the only one you’ve ever told.

“I’m sorry! It’s my fault-”

Your ComGear. The settings.

You're too shocked, too betrayed, too sore to get up on your own. You feel some of Yoongi’s release drip down your leg, and a robotic voice fills your mind, drilled into you from the hours of safety lectures you’d had to sit through during training.

… If at any point the user experiences orgasmic sensations before, during, or after sexual activities, then this may be a sign of malfunction in the Opticon Miracle Implant, rendering the user susceptible to sexually transmitted disease and/or pregnancy. Side effects of a malfunctioning Opticon Miracle Implant could become severe, or in some cases life-threatening, if left untreated. Please consult your local physician and refrain from any sexual activity until the Opticon Miracle Implant may be examined by a specialist.

They���re all shouting now, and you feel your throat constrict in horror at the implications of what just happened. The words get caught in your chest, bubbling up with your mounting fear, and finally fall from your lips in a raw cry for help.

"Someone call an ambulance!"

[harrysgoldenline]

Hi!! Is it alright if I request a blurb please? Something abt Y/N getting her period at H's place and she panics bc she accidentally bled through his sheets and she's embarassed and her cramps hurt. How would H feel/react? THANK YOU LOVIE!!! (Secret admirer of your works here hehe! Keep on writing!!!)

Hi everyone! Sorry for taking a short little break, I’ve been feeling a little better but I missed writing too much so I had to come back. I really hope you like how this turned out! I hope this is good, i wrote it super fast because strangely enough I was planning on writing something like this and I got the request so it was meant to be!!! Thank you for requesting and thank you for all your kind messages. It really means a lot. 💕💕

Stains

Y/N stirred awake, the sunlight peaking through the blinds. Stirring a bit and smiling as she sees him, his long eyelashes resting against the tops of his cheeks. This along with his freshly shaved face made him appear much younger, his chocolate colored hair a messy mop on his forehead, pointing in all different directions.

As she scooted closer to him, she felt it, that dreaded familiar feeling and her eyes widen, heart stopping its beating a moment before pounding rapidly in her chest. Her eyes fluttering close as she let out a shaky sigh, peaking one eye opening and gently lifting the covers to end up seeing the stain, heart plummeting.

“Fuck.” She whispered, sitting up and her eyes scan Harry’s bedroom, trying to think of anything she could do to not have to deal with this situation.

She slowly peels the covers off, remembering back when Harry and her were eating a pizza they ordered in his bed and he ended up dropping a slice and finding a stain remover in his bathroom that got it out after letting it sit and rubbing at it with a wet washcloth.

She just was just praying the tool that removed pizza sauce could work the same on period blood.

She entered his bathroom and groaned at the blood stain that accompanied her on her pair of sweatpants. The girl kneels down, searching quickly for the stain remover and any leftover pads or tampons that she had left at Harry’s in the past.

Of course she couldn’t find either.

She began whispering profanities to herself, wishing she could have planned better and could have packed more extra clothes instead of just the dress she wore the night before and the pajamas she was in now.

She sneaks back into the bedroom, seeing Harry still laying peacefully as she nearly cartoon like tiptoes thought the room, checking the bedside table on his side quietly before dashing over to the other, desperate to find the stain stick anywhere.

After failing, she feels like giving up all together. Running away, changing her name and never looking back in stead of having to deal with the embarrassment of-

“Baby?” Harry lovely graveled, eyes slowly opening and watching her rummage through the nightstand, a deep chuckle coming from his chest, “what are you looking for? Come back to bed, need cuddles.”

“No!” She shrieked, watching him reach to pull back the blankets, the light sheets coming into view but coming to a sudden stop as the sound escapes her.

He gives her a confused look, sitting up a bit and resting his weight on his arm, a hand rubbing though his hair with his free one, “are you alright? Did something happen?”

She shakes her head, biting her bottom lips hard as she tries not to let her voice crack as that will lead to tears. But she can’t not tell him. There’s no way he won’t find out.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, “I-It was an accident and I’m sorry because I should’ve known it was coming but I totally forgot and I’m not prepared and I’m sorry... I’ll clean everything or-or I’ll buy you new ones! Yeah I’ll buy you new ones!”

The girl kept rambling on and Harry slowly peeled away the covers, seeing the reason behind her tears and he slowly slid out of bed, arms going around the incoherent girl, making her stop her word vomit and lean into him, now wiping her eyes and burying her face in his chest.

He kisses the girls forehead a few times before pulling away, taking her hand and leading into the bathroom. He gestured for her to sit, but she decided against it, standing close to him and gripping his arm as he leaned down and filled up the large bathtub with water.

“I’ve got some bath bombs and bubble bath under the sink.” He began, facing the girl and softly pressing her lips, “I’ll throw the sheets and your clothes in the washer and go get you some stuff... do you like pads or tampons better? Can you just text me what you use?”

“I’m sorry. I feel horrible. I can can wash everything, or-or but you knew sheets-.”

“Nonesense!” He suddenly exclaimed, making her jump and let out a soft giggle as he continued, “It’s normal darling, nothing gross and nothing to be embarrassed about, okay? Besides, if I had to go through this I wouldn’t leave bed all week. Let me take care of you, okay?”

She nodded, kissing him softly and thanking him before he dismissed himself to get the sheets and for her to get herself in the bath comfortably as she recovered from her frazzled state.

As the girl cleaned herself a bit, she dropped in the prettiest pink bath bomb, watching it color the tub before her entering, feeling her mind body and souls relax as she laid down.

Harry reentered after softly knocking on the door, smiling as he saw his girl with her hair tied up and relaxed in the pink bath water. He gave her smile and collected her things, laying out a pair of boxer shorts and a large sweatshirt before telling her he will return shortly, leaving his girl in the tub and the washer running and telling the girl he loved her and promising her he’ll be back soon.

He did indeed keep his promise, arriving home around 25 minutes later and greeting the tranquil girl in his bathroom, leaving behind all of the products he picked out for her as he moved to replace the bed with an extra pair of sheets he threw in the drier, just so they were warm.

When Y/N emerges back into Harry’s room, dressed in his clothes and feeling fresh, her heart flutters more than ever before. There sat Harry with all of her favorite snacks and pint of ice cream for them, Disney Plus pulled up with Harry cuddled up under a mound of blankets.

She rushed over to the bed, sliding under the covers and wrapping herself tight around the man, pressing rapid kisses all over her face as he chucked, pulling her warm body into his own.

“Feel better, my love?” He smirked, happy to see her returned to her normal self, “or do ya cramps still hurt? Heard Gem say once bath helps but I also picked up a heating pad if you want me to grab it.”

“I’m so in love with you and I’m so so lucky..” She whispered, kissing him softly, feeling their heartbeats syncing as they laid together, “thank you for everything, Harry. You’re truly an angel from heaven. Don’t know how I got to be so lucky.”

“I’m the lucky one, sweetheart. And I love you, more than you could ever imagine, don’t ever forget it.” He whispered, kissing her again before pulling away and snuggling her into his chest, legs tangling together, “what first, Tangled or Beauty and the Beast?”