#Just nothing ever made any sense to me in that part

[burb-ie]

Uhm hi your au is cool and I love the Sentinel and TFP Optimus potential so have this thank you have a good day:

“I don’t understand…”

“You don’t have to do so immediately, it’s not easy to have everything you thought you once knew uprooted.”

“No that’s not- I-“ Sentinel hissed, stepping back from the larger mech. He wants to scream, to shout, to deny everything but he knows that it won’t work on this Optimus. How can he be so different than the bridge repair bot he knew? How can he, a warframe no less be so endlessly patient and kind and why does he found himself feeling so safe around him?! The safest he had ever felt no less! It made no sense, it shouldn’t make sense at all.

“I wanted to deny this.” The blue prime said, his voice box wobbly with an emotion he can’t safely identify. “I want to not understand this but if I do, I would feel like I’m going insane and I know that you wouldn’t stop being so patient regardless.”

The elite guard had searched for any deceit, any form of trickery that would cause him to distrust this warframe but there was nothing. His patience, his understanding, his kindness; it was just who this Optimus was. And everything just shattered when Sentinel came to that horrible realisation.

He sees this Optimus extend his arm out and Sentinel wants to slap it away, to be afraid and yet.. He found himself reaching out to hold his servo, squeezing it tightly. Optimus- Orion as he had called himself to differentiate between him and the repair bot Optimus made no move to pull him in. Sentinel knew that it was because that was who he is and it still terrifies him.

“I want to hate you..” He admits, burying the spike of guilt deep down from his spark. “I wanted to hate you so much but I just- can’t. Why are you so kind? You kept glaring at me when we first met and now you’re- you’ve just come in and made me question everything I thought I knew!…”

“That was due to previous experiences on my part from a mech who shares your designation.” Orion explains sincerely. “Because of that, I initially was wary of you and it clouded my judgement, for that I apologise. But as I learned more about this world, the Cybertron you live in and the system that you grew up with, I’ve began to view things with a fresh look, and that includes you.”

Sentinel chooses not to pry deeper into what Orion said, partly due to being emotionally unstable as he is and partly in fear of what he would learn if he asked. All he could do is stare down at the ground as words kept tumbling out from deep in his processor and spark. “E-everything I thought I knew is just.. I don’t want to even doubt it, the system has been everything to me.. all it’s rules… But then you- you just crash down here, disproving everything I thought I knew and now—!”

Sentinel looks up to shout at the larger bot but seeing his kind optics and sad smile made all the fury die out from his voice box. He released his servo as though it was hot metal and curls up on the ground, shaking. Internally he berates himself for showing such a pathetic display considering his position but Orion said nothing or voice any judgements. He could feel the other mech sit down beside him, close enough to reach out if needed and far enough to not step into his personal space.

“As easier as it would be, the world is not so clear cut.” Orion said, his voice holding a wisdom only gained through many stellar cycles. It held the same type of heaviness Ultra Magnus have but it doesn’t feel as old or historic as him. “Sometimes evil comes from good intentions, sometimes what seems good ends up being malicious and harmful. This system you grew up in and had been drilled into you for so long, is one of the latter. I’m so sorry.”

Despite everything, Sentinel finds himself nodding numbly to his words. He wanted to forget all this ever happened, return back to the safe structure of following protocols and living as he had before meeting Orion but too many things have been thrown into question, rules that once seem like facts have now been broken, doubt has been cast in and can never be uprooted thanks to Orion and now—

“I don’t want to think about this anymore…” Sentinel admits, exhaustion finally seeping into his processor, having enough of everything. He found himself with his walls taken down without his say, something he was still very much horrified of it. Still, in spite of that, he lets Orion gently take him into a sideways embrace. It felt warm, comforting and when all the fear and conflict were shoved away due mental fatigue, Sentinel briefly wondered when was the last time he felt so safe and allowed himself to be this open. At the very least, when everything has been flipped over and shattered, Orion remained consistent and that’s something he’s thankful about, even if he doesn’t realise it at this point in time.

As Sentinel slowly falls into recharge, Orion can’t help but gently carry the mech in his arms, shielding him from any potential onlookers. Sentinel is a proud autobot who doesn’t like showing weakness and has made many foolish choices in the past but underneath it all was a young mech, traumatised, insecure and afraid. Yet Orion can’t help but be proud of him for at least not throwing everything he realised away and opening up to how it troubles him. It spoke of his true character and the trust he had in him, trust that Orion swore to never misuse. It will be difficult for Sentinel from here on out, there is a long road ahead full of turns and obstacles and right now, he’s trapped in a storm of confusion and conflict, misdirection and denial. But he will be there to guide him and be a pillar of support when needed. He won’t let him or anyone else walk the path alone.

Okay i know i said i will be making a comic for this then answer it, but ive been seeing posts about asks getting deleted from people's inboxes and i would HATE for this to get lost so imma post it

The comic is still very much in play,I just wabt to preserve this for when its done

So anon i just wanna say THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH YOUVE NO CLUE AAAAAAAA I just wanna let you know that I jumped around my room when I received this ask for thw first time like actually

Wonderful

You devoured my friend

[spaceorphan18]

Any thoughts on Chris’s latest interview??

I assume you mean this one?

I have not watched it so.... let's live blog, shall we?

I appreciate that he got his hair to stand up on all sides. Looking good Chris ;)

Basics on Chris? I totally guessed his expertise would be related to the paranormal. I completely forgot about the British History love of his, so I'm so not surprised there.

I really was waiting with baited breath to hear if he'd say llamas were his least favorite animal, lol. (Oh god, a lot of you weren't around when he claimed he liked llamas because he said he was a social llama and ended up getting a room full of stuffed llams, lol)

Oh my god, off of Diet Coke? What even?? Also, guys. Don't kill me. Don't revoke my Chris fan card. While I'm glad that he went back into acting - I have no desire to see that film he just made. It sounds like... not my cup of tea. (sorry :( )

The 'who are you' quiz section was super cute. I do love that he gives us little bits into his daily live and world and something that has just not changed is his sharp wit. I have always been a fan of his humor.

Chris's high school experience - I mean he's talked about this a lot over the years. A lot. But the thing that sticks out is this evolution of being okay with it. When he was first on Glee - it was STILL a big trauma. Which makes sense because instead of going to college, Chris went straight from HS to Glee, and omg, what an insane thing to do.

The getting into Glee stuff is... stuff I've heard before. But always glad to hear him speak on it, and again, glad he's in such a better place in life that he can reflect without the being traumatized part. The stuff about his current auditioning is interesting. He admits he doesn't really anymore unless he really wants to... and I'm guessing not really much has come his way that he really wants to do. I have a feeling that he probably won't do a whole ton of acting moving forward, but you never know.

Chris talking about his coming out on Chelsea Handler, lol... I love that he can reflect about being 18, and how differently choices are made when you're that young. But I also love (and get, and my god sometimes still I remember why he's the only celebrity whom I've ever felt was actually a bit like me in thought process) the fact that he was like - I'm gonna try to do this once and never deal with it again. And have it, like, become a bigger ordeal than he could have ever imagined.

I love though, also, that his story is also being contextualized through a queer lens. And, I mean, I felt this way when he was talking with Kevin about their joint experiences -- I'm so, so glad Chris has these queer spaces to have these conversations, because there's a level of knowledge and awareness and perspective you don't get from straight media.

(He took his shoes off, how cute, lol. Also this interview knows, like, nothing about Glee. Fascinating.)

"I would rather be the unicorn in the room than the elephant." -CHRISTOPHER!!! This quote is fantastic.

Getting into the conversation of activism, and how queer culture and community was still very different back in 2009-10 then it is now. And I mean, it's come a long LONG way since I was in high school back in the 90s. We've come a long way in the past fifteen years, even if the asshats in charge are trying to push everyone back to the 50s (or really the 30s :P) Anyway, some great queer history embedded in this.

The conversation about fame being his protection back then is fascinating. Also, how he calls himself ugly (back then). Oh Christopher.

He talked to Shirley MacClaine about aliens. Because of course he did. I love him.

OOhhh, Chris loved every guest star except for one. Any guesses who? (Honestly - I have no idea. so this is a fascinating new tidbit. Perez Hilton? Lol - Chris didn't work him though.)

Also more interesting things to think about - Chris getting a lot of the spotlight early on created resentment. (I wonder if it was Lea... Hmmm.)

Mr - I'm never getting married - actually mentioned that at some point he and Will probably will get married. Don't know if that was kind of a deflection from this dude assuming or if he's changed his mind. But, I mean, c'mon, in any capacity we all know he and Will consider each other done and locked in for life, which Chris basically confirms. (Awww - I love Will.)

Oh god, talking about the tinhatters. Chris, thank fuck for finally talking about this more openly and explicitly. And guys, I told you. I TOLD YOU that this shit happened.

THE HAIR STORY! HE'S TELLING THE HAIR STORY! No, guys, this was almost like urban legend stuff, but yeah, there were rumored instances of people sending hair to Will (and to Mia) and he actually talks about this. Oh my god, I'm laughing (though my god this was not funny at the time)

Oh, god, he thinks there were 100,000 CCers. No. There weren't. That seems too high. The people who were actually crazy were a very, very small number -- who made an unfortunately huge impact.

Oh. God. Also. He is NOT talking about Darren when he talks about people who are still in the closet. He's just not.

Oh for the love of fuckery, this host is just... he had to take a college course to discover fanfiction? C'mon.

Ah, the awkward conversation of celebrities reading fanfic. I wish this conversation would be had with someone who understood it better. Honestly do not like this host's summation of it because -- not just as someone who reads and writes it, but as someone who understands it's influence on published writing and understands its relevance in women's circles, this is a much deeper conversation and this host makes it feel trivialized (because they don't understand it).

Also - I wonder what Chris read, great abs and about cats? lol.

STOP FUCKING CALLING ANY KIND OF QUEER FANFIC SLASH FIC. It's old school term. Now it's just... fanfic. You no longer need to qualify the fic by saying it's slash.

This host is... bugging me a bit. But that's my issue.

They're getting into the writer portion and as a writer myself I'm... honestly a little bored by this. The TLOS convo he's had a million times. He's also talked about his process a lot, which idk, maybe this is more interesting to non-writers but like, yeah, yup, i've been there done that.

Aww, Chris talking about his anxiety issues - I do always love hearing about this, because I feel like mental health issues don't get addressed in the way should.

Um, they end on a section called 'fight me' where Chris debates a position - and his is that only queer actors should play queer roles. I... think that's a nuanced question that deserves more than a 60 second watered down debate and I'm not going to touch it.

And.. yeah, that's what I have to say about that. It's nice to hear from Chris again, so glad he's so much more open about his life and experiences. If I'm being honest, though, I think I do kind of value the conversations more so when he has them with, say, Kevin and Jenna, because there's something more personal going on there.

But that's just me - someone who has followed Chris and his career for, my god, what sixteen years now? Yeah. :)

Hopefully that answers your question, Nonny! lol :)

[bewitchedmold]

Mfs from jjba pt4 when they brutally beat you giving you permanent disfigurement, leaving you paralyzed and in crippling debt along with a burnt down house but you're not their best friend and don't invite them to the family bbq

[cream-and-tea]

planning ghoststory book two and asking myself “does the intensity of pallas and calliopes hatred for each other come out of nowhere???” as if there isn’t a whole scene in lay me down where calliope tries to kill pallas by dropping a potted plant on their head looney-tunes style

[seaofreverie]

Anyway.... Back to what I was pondering earlier today... It's been 4 months but I'm still as deeply obsessed with Exotic Creatures of the Deep as at the very start

[nerdie-faerie]

Apparently I timed my quitting perfectly

[dollfacefantasy]

caleb x fem!reader

you and caleb used to play fight a lot, but things are different now that you're older

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fauxcest, dry humping

a/n: um hehe just a small drabble cause i've been thinking... also i like the pipsqueak thing idgaf kiss me about it. imagine this takes place when she’s staying with him.

"isn't this around the time you'd usually cry mercy, pipsqueak?" he breathes, his smooth voice warming the air next to your ear.

a small grunt escapes you as you try to lift your arm to shove him off. your effort is pointless though. his grip tightens around your wrist, and he brings your limb back down to the floor without much effort.

“caleb, quit it!” you whine.

he just laughs at you. his body doesn’t move away an inch. he stays right where he his, hovering over your smaller frame.

the two of you used to play fight all the time as kids. you’d squabble over the remote or your toys. whiny arguments would morph into a small scuffle, a test of wills. so it felt natural today to lunge at him when he held the book you wanted to read just out of reach. getting physical made sense. you’d been so agitated with him keeping you here, you needed to blow off some steam. it just didn’t feel so good when reality set in as he wrestled you down to the floor like always.

“it’s not funny,” you say and try to jam your knee up into his abs.

he dodges the move and continues to smirk at you. “maybe not to you. but it’s pretty funny from up here. pretty cute too,” he teases.

you scowl, squirming some more. in your younger years, you’d always been able to fight back a little. you’d lose in the end, sure, but victory had been in reach a few times. now, caleb is stronger. he’s bigger, and he doesn’t fight like a scrappy high school kid but rather someone with training. you’re starting to realize you have no chance now, and part of you wonders if you ever did. or maybe he’d been going easy on you.

as if to taunt you, he slides your arms up above your head and grabs both your wrists with one hand. even with his other one free, he keeps you pinned with the same amount of force. it’s fucking humiliating. you feel your cheeks starting to heat up as he drags the back of his fingers along your jaw, cooing at you.

“you always used to get so angry like this too. so frustrated. you’d think you would’ve learned not to start fights you can’t win,” he mocks.

his thumb comes to sweep along your cheekbone, back in forth in slow strokes. he stares into your eyes while he does, almost studying you. it gets you heated for a whole other reason you don’t even want to acknowledge.

“get off of me,” you squeak, your voice much less aggressive now.

“maybe i will if you beg enough,” he taunts, “if you use your manners and say please like a good girl, i’ll consider it.”

“shut up!” you say. you kick a few more times and buck your hips to try and get loose.

in response, he grabs your hip with his free hand and slams it back to the ground. you let out a little growl, assuming you’ll have to restrategize. but then he pushes his pelvis down on top of yours.

you gasp. all the fight leaves you in a harsh blow because now, unlike any of the other times you play fought with him, you feel a solid bulge pressing between your legs.

your eyes widen, and you sputter. you’re sure you look totally stupid right now. but you don’t know what else to do. there’s no question about it. he’s got a boner, and he’s rubbing it right up against you.

“i told you. you’re not gonna win. might as well surrender,” he says. he speaks in a completely even tone, as if nothing is different.

“c-caleb. what are you doing?” you start, “don’t be weird.”

“i’m not being weird,” he defends with feigned innocence, “we always used to mess around like this. what’s got you all shy now?”

you know why he’s asking. because he knows you won’t say it. the answer is so easy, yet you can’t bring the words to leave your lips.

“you know what,” you whine softly.

he chuckles and leans in even closer to your face. “maybe i do. but i don’t think that it’s weird. we’re not kids anymore. you can’t whine and wriggle around like that and expect me not to react,” he murmurs.

your heart beats harder in your chest. you can feel every thump. before you can say anything in return, he grinds his hips again, rolling his hardened length right up against you. and this time, it feels good.

“i- caleb- we can’t,” you whimper, biting your lip.

“we can’t? we can’t what? we’re not doing anything,” he says before grinning at you, “it doesn’t count if it’s over the clothes.”

you want to smack him, but both your arms are still immobile.

“it’s still weird. we’ve never- i don’t see you like this,” you insist, though the last statement is a complete lie.

he tsks and shakes his head before pushing his erection between your legs for another time. this one draws a whine out of you. his hips jump forward at the sound, but he doesn’t let his face show that burst of desire.

“what do you see me like then?” he whispers.

silence fills the air between the two of you as you fail to answer. you know what you see him as. you know your crush on him goes back years. you know what fantasies fill your head at night when you’re alone.

but you also know how you want to see him. what you’re supposed to see him as. what you’ve tried to limit his role to for so long.

“it’s ok,” he finally says, “i won’t make you say it if it’s that hard. but i know you like this. i know you, remember?”

he grinds against you again, but this time it’s not only once. now he sets himself into a rhythm, consistent swings of his hips against your center.

“i know when you’re happy, when you’re sad, when you’re ashamed,” he says, “i know when you want something, but you’re too scared to ask.”

ducking in, he kisses your neck. you moan in response, putting no effort into suppressing the noise now.

“that’s right, princess. your big brother knows you better than anyone, doesn’t he?” he coos mockingly.

“caleb!” you whine. you internally cringe at both titles, but outwardly, your face still contorts with pleasure.

“what?” he laughs, “that’s what you were gonna say before, wasn’t it?”

“but i didn’t,” you whimper.

“but you thought it, and it’s all the same to me,” he teases.

he refocuses his mouth on your neck again. his lips move over the column of your throat while his cock continues pressing right on your pussy. it feels better by the second. maybe it’s because he’s kissing your neck too, you’re not really sure. all you know is the hot, sparkling feeling in your stomach is building.

nipping at your pulse point, he then sucks on the skin like he wants to leave a mark. his tongue laves at it for a few moments before he pulls off.

“i’m gonna let go of your arms. you’re gonna behave, ok?” he mumbles against your skin.

“mhm,” you whimper and nod. the overt submission feels pathetic, but losing the feeling of him would be even worse.

“good girl,” he praises.

he keeps his word and releases his hold on your wrists. the air feels cool on your skin that’s all warmed up from his hands. now with his other arm in use, he can snake one around your ass and boost your hips. the new angle allows him to thrust against you harder.

“fuck, baby,” he grunts. you feel his lashes brush your neck as his eyes flutter.

your arms loop over his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. more little mewls spill from your lips. you can feel his stiff length sliding right up against your folds through your clothes. every swipe brings a blissful burst of friction to your poor throbbing clit.

“there you go. i got you. big brother’s got you,” he mumbles mindlessly. he chokes out a moan into your shoulder as his hips move like they have a mind of their own.

your body starts to squirm more. that hot feeling inside is reaching a boiling point. you clutch at his shirt, your nails digging in so hard they threaten to tear the fabric. the constant push and pull of his lower half is nearly hypnotic. it seems like you’ll be under him forever while also on the brink of letting go.

after a few moments more, he pulls back to look at you. his eyelids hang low, heavy with his desire for you.

“god, you’re so pretty. so fuckin’ beautiful now,” he says and presses his forehead to yours. his eyes shut while your breaths mingle. “i knew you wanted this too. just look at you. almost falling apart, and i haven’t even really touched you. i knew no one else could do this better.”

all you can do is whimper softly and cling to him harder. you pull on him as if trying to pull him into your body, to meld your two beings into one. the pressure down below feels dull and muted, but it’s blooming nonetheless.

“yeah… you’re gonna cum all over your pretty panties,” he mutters, “get ‘em all nice and wet so i can have some fun with ‘em later.”

“caleb…” you whine, useful words falling out of your grasp in this moment. one of your hands flies up and laces in his hair. your fingers clench into a fist, giving the strands a sharp tug.

he groans and bucks his hips extra hard. “c’mon. cum for me, baby. let me make my sweet little angel cum,” he murmurs.

it really doesn’t take much to get you there. the friction burn he’s rutting you both into works, and you feel yourself hit the high. euphoria rushes through you. a little breathy whine erupts from your lips. your back arches off the floor, but he keeps you cradled against him securely.

the whole time you’re cumming, he’s still humping you like his life depends on it. it’s when you start to come down, that he finally explodes. he buries his face in your neck, letting out the loudest moan you’ve heard so far. his arms tighten up around your frame as his fingers dig into your malleable flesh.

his hips jolt forward in random twitches now, chasing the last remnants of release while he spills inside his pants.

when he’s done, his breaths are harsh and labored. he nuzzles the crook of your neck before kissing your cheek and receding off your body. his palm runs over his face lazily.

“fuck, i gotta change now,” he says, not bothering to look down at the dark patch at the front of his pants.

without even really thinking about it, you reach forward for the waistline. you’re already craving more of him. but before your hand can get there, he takes your wrist.

“not so fast, pipsqueak. i think you should actually beat me before i let you have the real thing,” he smirks.

[monstersholygrail]

very classic but summoning a demon to fuck you and he gets a little obsessed 🙏

Imagine Himbo Demon was one day just casually going about his business, torturing a mortal with the agonizing act of small talk when suddenly a flash of white explodes across his vision. The next thing he knows he’s standing in a magical circle of your own design and he can’t get out.

You ask if he’s an incubus and that’s when he notices the book in your hand, ‘How to Summon Incubi With Your Friends: The Party Guide.’ He also looks you over and notices how painstakingly pretty you are and thinks… he could be an incubus.

That night he has what he claims as the best sex of his eternal life, no doubt about it. The way your body moved as you rode him within an inch of his life made him swear he was being taken back to heaven. The way you tasted sweeter than the finest nectar till it burned permanently into his senses. Every last bit of you was addicting.

When the summoning spell’s time was coming to a close, the demon actually felt an ache at the idea of leaving you and your sweet, sweet holes. He tried to reach for you once more but with a flash of white he was back in hell. His heart and his cock aching for you.

The minute he can he’s scouring hell’s library for the book he saw in your grasp. He reads it like a man possessed, ironically, looking for the spell you must’ve used.

As he’s reading the book, an Incubus just so happens to look over at him. Sensing eyes on him he looks up and their gazes meet. The Incubus reads the cover of the book he has and his eyes widen. He begins slowly inching away from Himbo Demon before turning and quickly rushing off.

Himbo Demon tilts his head, curious as to why the Incubus gave such a reaction. But after a moment of brief confusion, he goes back to reading the book. His eyes brightening as he finds the spell.

That night he clumsily performs the spell. His mind foggy with lust. His cock red, angry, and dripping with precum as he thinks about drowning in your holes, lapping up your essence like it’s the only food he’ll ever need and then fucking you until you’re raw and swollen, only to soothe any pain with his tongue.

Himbo demon growls, reaching down and lazily stroking his cock with one hand and performing the spell with the other. Somehow by a true miracle, it works. He appears back in the same fading circle he appeared in last time. His eyes ignite with feral need and his gaze flickers around the low-lit room before a door opens and you come waltzing in wearing nothing but a towel.

“Miss me, baby?” He snarls in excitement, knowing now he has a way to keep coming back to you.

You yelp, jerking back against the wall in surprise. Not expecting the demon to be here again but you’re not exactly upset about it either. Himbo Demon smiles wickedly, but in truth he’s just so happy to see you! He moves at the speed of lightning and he’s on you in an instant. His tall lithe body caging you in against the wall. You exhale shakily, your body tingling with need and your belly churning with arousal as you glance down at his fat cock bobbing and dribbling with his own arousal.

The scent of you floods Himbo Demon’s senses and he growls, fangs flashing in the moonlight that peaks in from the window. Feeling beyond thrilled that the spell worked. That he can go to you whenever he feels like it now. So long as you keep the summoning circle up, that is. But he’s too focused on your new easy access to even try and realize that.

“Don’t worry, sweet human. I’ve found my way back to you and your glorious body. From now on we shall never be parted and I can properly fuck your weak mortal shell ragged as much as I desire. And there is much… much desire,” Himbo Demon rasps heatedly, looking down at you with a fire in his eyes.

Before you can even think to respond, the demon is shredding your towel into two, revealing your body to him in all its glory. He barely takes the time to appreciate the view and suddenly he’s pressing into, rubbing his length along the height of your belly.

And you know this is the start of a wild adventure. One you’re sure is bound to last more than another night.

[dduane]

Just so that people know...

Facebook/Meta's just-announced change in its fact-checking and moderation policies (which would, among other things, allow users to refer to LGBTQ+ people as "mentally ill"), and its sudden vanishing of trans- and nonbinary-friendly themes, has made it plain to me that some of the book-series-oriented spaces I've maintained over there for years are no longer safe places for users, especially younger ones, to be.

I have therefore begun deleting them.

The Middle Kingdoms page (being both the smallest and the one now potentially most dangerous to keep) was the first to go: I nuked it about ten minutes ago. (Naturally I checked it first to make sure nothing of any note was going on in there, and also naturally, I took a backup.)

The Young Wizards page will be the next to be deleted, probably tomorrow. The Ebooks Direct page there will also be deleted over the weekend. Neither of them was all that busy, ever: but that's not the point here. Meta is no longer a safe or appropriate place for them to be. (It doesn't hurt that many of FB's employees are furious about this policy change too... but their boss, I firmly believe, doesn't give a shit about that.)

The DD Facebook page may suffer the same fate. My personal "main" account...? I have a lot of older friends over there for whom FB is their lifeline and main digital platform. I'm going to have to think about how best to handle that. It may be that there will be no more public posting from me there: just DM'ing. ...And I'm still working out what makes the most sense to do about the Middle Kingdoms Instagram account, and my own personal one. Neither of them has been heavily trafficked, and I may nuke them too.

(sigh) All this comes as something of a wrench. But at the very least, as regards the part of my creative work that contains LGBTQ+ themes and characters, I refuse to leave any of it there. To do so would risk having its continued presence seen as support for the platform's boss (and, as @petermorwood remarks in passing, "would-be capo"), who's already busy genuflecting to the US government's incoming (mob-)boss's agenda.

So, as the man says,

"If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly..."

[onlygarden]

[daddy's cock is all you need!] - lee heeseung, sim jaeyun

genre: smut

description: daddy kink, rough sex, dom heeseung, dom jake, stomach bulges, some harsh words but not quite degredation

a/n: it is almost five fucking a.m. but. i got smacked by the inspo to write this and how could i ever pass up the opportunity to write about getting pounded down. it was sudden inspo to write jake's, but i had previously written part of heeseung's, so i decided to finish it and combine the both of them in one post : D i hope u all enjoy it, took jungwon's cock out of my mouth just so i could write this

HEESEUNG ⟢ heeseung was thoroughly peeved when you found yourself drunk earlier in the evening. by any normal means, he found your silly drunken antics hilariously endearing, but there was a striking difference in you tonight. he brought you along to enjoy a meal with him and the other members, but the amount of alcohol you decided to gulp down mindlessly quickly began to show itself. the giggles that normally tickled all of his senses only grated sickeningly on his nerves; your loud banter and outlandish jokes continued to earn you admirous gazes from the other members, and heeseung’s tolerance scurried from his body before he could even attempt to gather his composure. 

the tension was immobilizing during the car ride home, and your feeble attempt to appease his temper even a fraction announced itself with a — “heeseung, i…” — and was quickly met and destroyed with an unyielding “shut the fuck up.”

his hand against the back of your head forced you to bury your face into the mattress, your desperate pants and stuttered moans hardly suppressed, and the sheets beneath you flooded with a steady stream of pitiful drool spilling from your mouth. heeseung was lodged inside of you, plunging into rapidly, and the lavish squelches of your pussy warred with the sharp slaps of his pelvis against the plump flesh of your behind as both sounds mingled in the room.

the fury traveling rampant in his body made no stranger of itself, and his hand tightening carelessly in your hair as he rammed his cock furiously along the spongy patch of your pussy did nothing to disprove it. 

“you’re mine… you’re all mine, fuck baby…say it…” he demanded roughly, his hand yanking your head a few inches away from the bed as his grasp tightened to an alarmingly painful degree in your hair. 

in a miracle that you even manage to utter a syllable as heeseung bullies your wimpy, defenseless pussy uninhibitedly, a hardly spoken whine of “y-yours, hee!” tumbles from your lips. 

he raises his hand, smacking your ass with the utmost intention of leaving a harsh welt, he responds with a grunted, “what do you call me, sweet girl?” the pleasant description of you leaving his lips in such a condescending manner, it sounds more like he’s insulting you. 

“daddy! oh god, daddy!” 

a chuckle dances from his lips, a breathy moan quickly following, as he feels every fiber of himself completely enveloped by your sweet silk. 

“mmm… fuck, that’s right, baby,” his hand rains down on your ass as three swift spanks follow one after the other. 

“you’re sucking daddy’s cock in so good…” his delicious grunts only increased in volume as he reduced your body to pleasured mush. 

JAKE ⟢  “you’re dripping for daddy, aren’t you?” 

jake utters cruelly, the sentence leaving his lips as though it didn’t send another surge of arousal slopping out of you, forcing past the pathetic material of your thong. 

his fingers crawl deviously underneath the waistband of your thong, dragging the flooded mess of material down the trail of your legs. 

as a shiver racks gently through your body, a satiated smirk decorates your boyfriend’s face. 

“mhm, yea… you are. you’re so fucking…” he trails off as he sinks hurriedly into your warmth, the plush skin of your thighs pillowing around the unforgiving grip of his fingers. any other words he had for you would be proven in the way he fucks you, he thinks. 

his aching, hungry cock tears through you, splitting you open in a demonstration of pure, unquenchable need. he destroys your pitiful little pussy without a single fragment of hesitation in his mind. he’s taking care of you, the conditions of his ownership making themselves known with each movement of his hips, each peek of his cock under the flesh of your stomach. 

as the tears begin to crawl down your face, and his name begins to fall from your lips in a series of helpless whimpers, jake coos, squeezing your thighs harder as though he was comforting you, his eyes locked stubbornly onto yours. 

“it’s a lot, huh, baby? just keep taking it… yea, baby… just like that…”

the pleasure piles on rapidly, profusely, your stomach ignited until his cock is threatening to shatter each of your senses. you tap his shoulder insistently, urging him to pause, just for a moment. 

god, he’s not going to stop. how could he even muster a single intention of stopping, when he’s already so wrapped up in the indescribable ecstasy of your lustrously slush pussy...

“no, baby,” he starts, his voice husky and hushed. “i’m gonna fuck you how i want, and you’re gonna keep squeezing me, just like this…” 

as though he were intending to jeer at you for even suggesting something as repulsive as stopping, he marginally increases the pressure of his thrusts, the dizzying thumpthumpthump of his cock inside of you causing your whimpers to transform into tortured cries.

“d-daddy, please!”

you force a pathetic response out in a hurry, feeling like you have to speak quickly, otherwise your words would run silent due to the force of jake pounding into you and snatching the breath from your lungs.

jake only leans closer to you, his weight adding pressure to your body, pressing you more forcefully against the bed. “uh-uh, baby… good girls keep going when their daddy wants it…” he utters, his voice so deliciously gruff. 

the only thing your body manages to do is lie there and allow him to pursue his conquest of obliterating you, your throat tossing out whiny cries and squeals with each swift passing of his cock through your mushy insides. 

[jin0]

Of Love, Lust and Wasted Time - Nicholas Alexander Chavez

Pairing : Prince!Nicholas Alexander Chavez X Princess!Reader

Summary : It had been a month since your wedding to Prince Nicholas. He hadn’t performed his marital duties yet. Was there a problem ? Yes. Would you communicate ? No. Would you sneak into his chambers at night in your sleeping gown ? Yes.

Warning : 18+ MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, fingering, lots of making out, titty sucking, clit sucking, pussydrunk nicholas, virgin reader, experienced nicholas, arranged marriage, cussing, slight pussy eating, slight size kink (I review the story and funnily enough, their was nothing slight about that one), slight cervix abuse, marking, talk of bedding ceremony, talk of traditional medieval marriage I guess, meant to be vanilla, don’t know if I got there.

A/N : that man’s a slut, love that. also, I promise she’s not a pick me, just really sheltered.

_______________________________________________

The customs would have it that on the very night of a maiden’s wedding she would perform the act of consummation first in front of the highest members of the court to prove her purity and then proceed with the act for her lord husband’s eyes only.

But this wasn’t a fucking barn, and people would learn to do things with manners.

Or at least, that had been the way Prince Nicholas had put it when the councilmen had insisted upon it during the wedding preparation. Their insistence upon watching the soon to be queen being defiled could’ve been equated to regular old traditions and care for traditions. The princess herself believed it to be what it was, old men hungry to devour with their eyes and feast on the most embarrassing moment of her life.

She would curse her mother and maids for the rest of her life for not having taught her the basics on what was expected of a wife or what would go into these “nightly performance” she would have to endure. Part of her knew better though, not only because her mother would pull her by the ears until they pealed off and not only because it was unbecoming of a young girl to complain but also because she had done everything in order to not follow the regular education that highborn ladies had to follow.

Because the princess had chosen to be none other than a prince.

As overly simplified as it was, it was the clearest way to express the life she lived or life as she lived it. Less than a choice, it was simply what made sense. From the moment she could stand on her two feet she was made to run after her brothers rather than walk slowly and with poise like a lady would. She was meant to chase and scream and throw herself at the nearest danger because what was danger for the crown but the daily life of any of the people they ruled over ?

While she learned to wield the sword, mount the horse and shoot arrows, she also learned what it would entail to be a princess, one day to be married. And seeing some of the men offering themselves to become her husband, she did regularly wish a battle would kill her first. A battle, or the trouble her mouth would get her into. Of course, she had learned and knew all there was to know. All except that. Sex.

With a father like hers, with a mother like hers, she was almost certain she would never marry so why waste her time learning about sex, right ? Luckily appearing like a good omen, Nicholas did not simply see himself as worthy. The initial discussion had not even concerned a marriage proposal.

When he had arrived in the neighboring kingdom, his proposal concerned trades and the opening of a route through his seas in exchange for three troupes of their best soldiers to be sent into his realm and help the thieving crisis raging through his lands. It was true that the knights of your home were known to be the greatest there ever was, loyal and strong, one of them could equate to a fleet of ten. Of course anyone would want them.

And he had wanted her too. As soon as she had walked in, dragging his lord commander by the cloak for blocking the way to the council room.

She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone, she just wanted to make sure her father was fine and so were her brothers. The man at the door was unfamiliar and truth be told, rather rude. It was a misunderstanding and her response was unwarranted. She had apologized, the prince had laughed. Surprising response.

For the rest of the meeting, she had been allowed to stay and she would’ve focused on the information being shared and the heated debate between both councils had she not been busy staring at the man she knew to be staring holes into her. His heated gaze felt like the sun shining directly unto her, melting away her mind and the mere thought of reason. She felt herself crumbling in on herself the longer she sat there to be undressed in public.

He hadn’t intended to stare with such insistence. He had even tried to look away, attempting to return to the discussion. He had. Had it ever been so difficult to look away from a woman ? Never, not when thousands of them had vied for his attention since he had come of age. Yet here he was, victim to his passions, digging into her flesh with his eyes, trying to move on from the gust of wind which had blew his way when she had walked into the room, carrying the sweet scent of honey. He had wanted nothing more but to leap to her feet and run his nose along her soft neck to engorge himself in her sweetness.

She hadn’t known whether to curse her father or thank him for offering them to stay longer than intended, stay until they reached an agreement on the details of their agreement. He had spent the night and from afar she was almost certain she could feel the heat of his body next to hers, warmth radiating through the dinner they had shared and through the halls of the castle, from his chambers to hers.

He hadn’t spent a better night, sitting in his bed, kept awake by the thought of the divine princess sleeping only meters away, peaceful yet clawing at his mind as if a parasitic fungus taking power over his body. She awoke every molecule forming his being, all aware of one another, uncomfortably held together by nothing but a thread of desire and melting resolve. Poor prince who wished to be back home in that moment, in the privacy of his quarters, far from prying eyes and then need to keep up appearances. Poor Nicholas who wished he could stroke his hardened cock all night, relieved of the ache burning in his loins, and ruining him from the inside.

With very little sleep in his system and his mind and body banding together against his better judgement, he had not moved from the position he had been occupying for hours now, but his head had snapped towards the door when he had heard the noise outside his door, footsteps as light and almost inaudible, had he not been wired towards her from the moment he had seen her. He knew it was her, and the sound of clinking metal and rushing maids confirmed his suspicion.

That morning, he had listened as she was being prepared to go on a morning ride. Interesting she was, the girl of his dreams. She kept quiet while her maid tried to dissuade her from going, she would need to be there to greet the guests. She assured she would be there to break fast with them. He would admit it, he had rushed to his balcony to watch her leave.

It was still dark, but he knew she had seen him, and he had seen her, both locking eyes for a moment before she had left. She had promised to be at breakfast, he wanted her for breakfast, but he would content himself with what she had offered. In the meantime, he had slept lulled to sleep by her eyes staring at up at him. It was enough, all he needed.

She had needed to clear her head, but her head hadn’t been any clearer when she had returned as soon as the first rays started shining. She knew she had gone mad when while hurrying to meet with the rest of her family, she suddenly found herself very conscious of her body, her mind and her appearance, so conscious she thought they would all leap out of her body to be stared at by anyone looking in her discussion. The meal was difficult, but madness was kept at bay, hidden from the public. The prince invited her to join the council that would follow, her presence being of great importance to him.

Again, the councils were boring, and this one was not moving anywhere. While the proposal was good, requesting for such a number of men in exchange for a route into a neighboring sea could’ve been good but it simply was not enough, not to the lords of the councils and slowly, not the King. Madness, she had equated her strange behavior to earlier. And as a great scientist, she had confirmed it when in a burst of genius, she had made a proposal.

She remembered how her mother would speak of her father coming to offer himself as a marriage prospect. The princess had been young but the look in the queen’s eyes, she recognized it as the same she had that morning, the look they had shared together before she rode off into the night. As her mother would often say, she had seen that man and had to have him.

“Why not offer a union instead. Your kingdom united to ours in exchange for all the men you desire for as long as you desire.” Had she said, like a princess who had seen the man she had to have.

Less than an offer, it sounded like a statement, one he had accepted before it was even uttered, a statement he would obey like a soldier would obey their ruler. All noise quieted, the Lords, princes of the realm and the King stunned into silence by her words. It had been the first time she had even looked at him purposefully, looked at him like he was already dancing in her palm, a puppet to her every whim.

Before being a good king, he was a good father and as he liked to say, anything she would dream of, he would provide. She had looked at him, his little girl and he could see her assurance, almost like an impenetrable wall. He had watched in silence as Prince Nicholas smiled, accepting the proposal while dreaming of a life of love which had never interested him.

This had been the most ridiculous decision she had made but it had been made, a glorious proposal in the minds of all the councilmen, all rejoicing at the thought of killing two birds with one stone, one of these birds being her and the other being the bird of decency she was meant to keep on her shoulder.

That girl was insane, but she was getting married.

For the next months, she walked almost aimlessly, only ever coming alive when he was in her orbit. She had tried to reassure her mother the day of her departure by claiming that she would learn to love her future husband. How was she made to tell her loving mother that she had fallen as soon as she had seen the man and that this whole marriage was nothing, but a tantrum hidden under negotiations ? As awkward as she was, poor girl left her home, three of her brothers with her off course to assist her and all her maids following. The prince was strange, he had agreed to everything she had requested before leaving, even accepting to take her horse on the journey to her new home. Everything about this had been strange, all of it but she was not one to go back on her words, not when this opened such a great opportunity for both kingdoms.

She swallowed her confusion and walked in the shoes of the princess she would need to be, a role which was less arduous to play when her soon-to-be husband seemed to agree to anything and everything she could want, everything except being around her.

For the seven months which had preceded their wedding, she had grown to crave his company and attention, flowers of love blooming brightly in her chest and crying out to him, crying out for his eyes on her, like he had done that morning. She wanted him in more ways than the ones she kept to herself, and he seemed more interested in everything there could ever be. She had hoped that on the night of the wedding, they would cross the bridge together and finally, she could learn about him from his mouth and not from those of the people of the castle and the court.

Nothing had changed and here she was, the moon high in the sky, her feet cold and bare as she fidgeted with the fabric of her nightgown. The cold air was nothing compared to the warmth radiating out of her skin and seeping through the thin cloth covering her nakedness.

“What are you doing here ?”

She jumped in terror, so busy rationalizing and overthinking that she hadn’t heard the door opening or closing. Turning to face him, she wished she could die instantly, wished to be swallowed by the floor below.

There he was, just out of a bath which had taken more time than necessary but still needed to clear his head. He enjoyed to privacy of his chambers, a robe covering his manhood from her gaze. His eyes were fixated on her as soon as he had walked in, dark and tempted, he remained at a safe distance, observing as she tried to speak, gathering her thoughts and looking away before speaking.

“My apologies, husband… I… I wanted to see you…” Seen she had. “It was… It was urgent.”

“Are you okay ?” If worry spread through his mind, he made sure to hide it. He watched her nod before letting out a discreet sigh of relief and taking a seat on the chair that faced his bed, next to the chimney. “What could be so urgent that you would need to come see me so late and in such clothes ?”

She remained quiet and so did he, barely focused on his own state but entirely aware of how little she was dressed and how much he could see. Adjusting himself in the seat, he swallowed a groan, one meant to calm his nerves and snapping him out of whatever he was doing.

“I… We… We have been married for a month now, my prince.” Her voice was low and soft like the summer breeze and burning away at his decorum. He stared at her as she straightened her back and raised her head, reverting to the girl she’d been when he first met her. “We’ve been married for a month, and you have not touched me still… I do not want you to think that it is something I think of often as it would be a stain on my character that I could not withstand but… Have I done something to displease you ? Perhaps if you tell me I could fix whatever it is, and we could move on as newlyweds.”

He heard the way her breathing picked up, almost able to see her heart beating out of her chest as she spoke, trying to explain herself while he stared in silence, pathetic victim to his weakened spirit and the images it spread through his mind while she spoke.

Of course he wanted to touch her, ravish her, devour her whole. There was nothing more on his mind, no other thought consummated Prince Nicholas’ mind like the thought of her crumbling in his sheets did. He could almost feel it in her scent wherever she went, the sweet taste of her nectar on his tongue. If he allowed himself to dream more, he could feel her tightness around his length, holding him nicely while she squirmed under his body. He wanted nothing more than to have her whenever he saw her, her stature in front of his, so breakable and frail. The thought of his arms enveloping around her and engulfing her whole, like a wave.

How delicate and marvelous she was, his darling wife. How could he even think of touching her when he knew what he would do to her was beyond salacious ? How could he do that to her and ever go back to being cordial with her after ? He knew that she was poison to his mind and to his tongue, one single bite and he would never ever be able to go without. How was he meant to live a life when he dreamed of living in her skin, grinding himself down into fine powder to be breathed into her lungs. How could that ever happen ?

He had almost sworn himself to a life of sleepless nights, attempting to quench his thirst for her in the dead of the night with his hand on his cock, before she had walked into his room covered by almost nothing, asking why he had not bedded her yet.

Nicholas stood quietly, walking up to her with a dark expression on his features. He was so handsome, the most beautiful man she had ever seen, his hair still wet and his body glistening in the night.

“Are you asking me to bed you, dear wife ? Is that what you want ?”

He stood millimeters away from her, her air wrapping around his body and seeping into him. That damned scent, honey so thick and sweet he prayed to drown in it. She looked up at him, frozen by his tone and proximity. She could feel the warmth of him in her and wanted more, but a highborn lady could not want such things. Could they ?

She looked down, her eyes twinkling with disappointment and shame. This had all been wrong, a mess she had made and would have to deal with.

“I… I apologize, your grace… I did not mean to offend… I will go… Please, forget this ever happened.”

She held her hands tightly together to ground herself, taking long strides towards the door to prevent her tears from humiliating her further. She had barely reached the door that a large hand blocked the way by slamming the door shut. She jumped, surprised that all her years of training were not enough to help her notice whenever he moved around her.

She suddenly felt so small in front of him, her husband towering over her, large hands boxing her in his space. She could hear him breath softly, almost out of breath and sounding strained.

“Where do you intend to go exactly ?” His voice was deep as he spoke, shaking from the vibration it sent through her. “What… What do you think you are doing exactly ?”

He sounded pained by the very words, but she kept still, too scared to see where this would go if she turned.

“I wanted to return to my chambers, your grace…” In this whole conversation, this had been the clearest she’d been. All to say she was leaving, how annoying.

He chuckled and she was almost offended, because what exactly was so funny in this discussion ?

“You intend to return to your chambers… dressed like that ?”

Now she was offended. Was this truly what worried him ? One month married and he hadn’t touched her, but he worried about how she was dressed ? Of course, she knew why he worried, but she would still be angry at him for it, because why not ?

“The answer I gave earlier remains unchanged, your grace. Or would you prefer if I stripped completely ? Maybe then you would move out of my way then ?” There she was, the princess he had met that day, unbent by his titles. He could’ve almost laughed had the image she had planted in his mind, of her roaming bare in the halls, not angered him enough to go deaf.

He kept quiet and she almost thought he had died behind her before hearing the sound of fabric moving. Looking down at her feet, she saw the rope holding the robe closed on the floor and before she could process what was going on, she felt him move behind her pushing her into the door, his bare front against her, cock pressing into her backside as deep as she could feel it.

“You think… You think I would let anyone see you ? You think anyone ever deserved to see you ? Huh, dear wife ? Do you think anyone could ever dream of seeing you ?”

She couldn’t speak but he could hear her reaction in her breathing as it picked up, more erratic and less rhythmic. Her who had managed to remain somewhat composed until now was suddenly as quiet as a mouse, squeaking below him while he pressed himself into her.

If she asked, he would admit the jealousy and possessiveness he’d been feeling for her. Everyone could see it, but she remained clueless, too busy hiding from him. The bedding ceremony had been his last straw. Prince Nicholas was never known for losing his temper, so imagine the surprise of the lords of the court when he had raised his voice at them and his own father for attempting to keep the tradition of the bedding ceremony ? He had refused it, categorically, the idea of hungry old decrepit men staring at his darling in a moment that was form them only. Never. He would kill all of them for even thinking of it.

“I burn at the mere thought of you, your scent being the only thing I need to lose every bit of education I have ever received and… You think I would ever let you out of this room ?” His left arm wrapped around her shoulder, keeping her still. He tried not to lose it, feeling her push into him, her soft hands still holding onto her gown. He raised his other hand to move her hair out of the way before bending down to leave open mouth kisses on her neck. Deliberate and controlled, he wanted to go as slow as he could, savoring the moment. His tongue grazed her veins eagerly wherever his lips would go while he tried to keep his hips still, failing miserably and rutting into her. He could already see how nice and warm she would be around him, his sweet wife. His tongue on her skin wasn’t enough to satisfy his hunger for her. “You want me to bed you, sweetness ? Fine. »

Every word he has uttered up until now had ignited something within her which a proper lady could never dream of letting out in their lives, but her instinct called for change in that very moment, the kind that was meant to undo all she had built herself to be in front of him. Because as condescending and arrogant as he might’ve sounded, she indeed, wanted nothing more than to be fucked. Partly for the sole purpose of experiencing the act as a woman, but also because the feelings she had started to feel for the man she had slightly tricked into a union were growing out of her control and called for some form of relief. Presently, the most adequate for would be the pleasure of the flesh, which she craved to indulge in.

« Tell me no, my dear… » He pleaded in a soothing voice she had only heard on their wedding night. « Deny me the pleasure of you and I will escort you to your chambers myself. »

She had expected more roughness from him, somehow. Almost ready to be unceremoniously dragged to the bed and stripped bare, she found herself melting more from the softness of his touch on her neck. His nose ran along her veins while his hips rutted slowly into the crevice of her backside. The wetness pooling between her legs dripped like poison, influencing the madness in her. As she took hold of the hand on her shoulder, she moved it to lay flat on her lower stomach. His fingers dug into her flesh, almost to pull her closer than she already was and yet, in truth, to scare her, maybe, into refusing him like he hoped.

The complexity of his mind in the moment made him almost just as deezy as she made him. He could almost feel delirium clawing at him, new senses appearing in him. Yes, he could feel her. The tightness of her pussy and the taste of her juices. He could all feel it. The prince was indifferent to the possibility that this was all in his head. The things which had been brewing in that same head for weeks now made it all the more necessary for him to listen for once. If he denied himself the pleasure of his wife, he would go mad. For weeks now, the prince had tried to act as friendly and neutral to her, even indifferent in the days when the pull towards her was too much to handle. He had tried as hard as any man could to deny himself pleasure both out of loyalty to her but also because no other woman could ever compare to her in his mind. Not when his nights were spent relieving a hard day’s work of ignoring and avoiding his wife. But in truth, how could he ever face such a beautiful being and taint her with the gunk flowing through him ? He couldn’t control the lewd images of her in his mind and until now, he’d almost managed to keep himself in check. Until she appeared in his bedchamber, demanding he touch her like she deserved and like he dreamt.

That did not change the fact that the woman he had tried to ignore for so long had grown a place for herself in his heart, a place that made it impossible to not give her the possibility to refuse what would ensue.

« Tell me no, my love… » He muttered, lips glued to her shoulder, as one last attempt to keep things how they were, to do things the right way, someday, maybe, when he wouldn’t be as weak to his passions as now.

And as she turned to look into his eyes, Prince Nicholas knew. In that moment, he knew he was destined for a life of allegiance to his wife and her every whim. With these beautiful eyes of hers, his princess had reiterated her earlier statement. Her answer, silent but acted remained unchanged.

« I don’t want to say no… » She whispered to him, their lips ghosting over the others.

No human word could ever fully grasp whatever followed next. Her whole body was suddenly caught by a force never seen before and spun around, her husband almost overjoyed but too taken by her lips to express it with full focus. She’s never tasted anything as sweet as his lips and he could say the same. The warmth of one another’s tongue, dancing in the others mouth, hoping, Prato to burn the other’s taste into their psyche, this was what this battle for control could be described as. Beyond control, they sought to catch up on lost time and feverishly discover as much as they could about the other.

Their lips encased perfectly into the others, Nicholas’ of course more taken and familiar with the act. He had tried to show decency and control, but the feel of her hot lips on his, shyly moaning into his had uprooted all forms of control.

His hands roamed, seeking for something to hold onto, anything to either ground him or feed his hunger for her. He found her wrists, her smaller hands back to holding onto the fabric of her nightgown. In that moment, he almost felt jealous of her and the opportunity she had to live in her own skin. He who could only dream of momentarily touching her could never be satisfied with the short amount of time he would get to spend with her. Years by her side would never be enough, not when he dreamt of their skins being merged together.

While his lips busied themselves on hers with fervor, his hands explored, touching, gripping, moulding and burning the feel of her in his mind. From her soft cheeks in his palm to the burn of her breasts on his bare chest, the prince did not know where to focus. His hand seemed to struggle leaving her cheek, keeping himself as chaste as the moment allowed to reassure her before moving to her neck. His fingers grazed the soft of her throat and she remained still, a willing victim to his increased thirsts.

When the princess moaned for the ninth time in his mouth, her lips parted and swollen, he pulled away from her to admire the mess below him.

« I haven’t even begun to explore you, my dear that you’re already so weak to me. » He chuckled, kissing the top of her nose and her forehead. Oh how fun this would be for the evil him looming on his shoulder.

He pulled away, allowing air and rationality to settle between them and for a second they remained still and quiet, drinking in the sight of one another. His exposed body had to be the most magnificent thing she had ever seen, a Greek statue in the flesh and dancing in the crevice of her palm. She stared at him like never before, a whole new sight granted to her and exposing him in his truth to her, the prettiest man she’d ever seen. So handsome and so willing to bend to her every desire.

Her eyes roamed around like the painting of a landscape meant solely for her sight. She reached his hips and bit her lips, her imagination running away from her control and painting the picture of his cock entering her repeatedly. She’s heard from her brothers about the steps of the act, and while the fear of confusion had been palpable initially, it had been a complete other feeling spreading through her at the moment. The princess was hornier than ever and the her insistent eyes on her husband’s hardened cock prodding out of the robe he wore did not make it any less evident.

A grin spread across the princes’ lips, just as into being watched by her as he was to admire in return. Him who had tried to not let his eyes wander could see freely now, the way her gown barely hid her peaking nipples or the way she’d kept her thighs tightly glued together as soon as he had stepped back.

The princess he had sworn fidelity and loyalty to now stood in front of him, sleeping gown falling off her shoulder and exposing more than just her cleavage.

When she reached towards him, her hand commending him to move and do what duty demanded, he wanted to laugh. There she was, his spoiled girl, leading him astray.

« The ache between my legs, husband… You are the source of it. I believe it to be your duty to soothe it. » A newfound confidence had crept its way in her veins and it intrigued him even more. To see her finally come out of her shell and demand of him, the prince, her lord husband. Nicholas took careful steps towards her before kneeling. His left hand found her right and took hold of her, their fingers intertwining tenderly.

With his free hand, he lifted the hem of her gown to expose her legs, rushing the fabric in his fist as he kept going higher, until reaching her hip. With some of the fabric still held up by his thumb, the rest of his hand slid along her flesh, and a sigh of relief escaped him. Deep and desperate, his head dropped as he pulled her closer. He let his forehead rest on her belly, nuzzling against her and kissing wherever he could reach.

His right hand which had still been holding the fabric of her gown slid under her thigh to part her legs. The prince let go of her hand and the fabric before laying a tender kiss over her bellybutton. He pulled back and signaled for her to open her mouth before gathering the gown and placing it between her lips and telling her to bite down. Like a good wife, she went along with his commands, holding onto his shoulders when he guided her palms towards them.

One of his hands came up to her backside, grabbing a handful while his right hand slid in between her legs to reach her mound. When his fingers plunged inside her, she almost felt her legs give out under her. Never had she felt such a sensation. His two fingers seemed to stretch her apart, too much already yet enough for her to quickly want more of whatever it was they provided.

« Shh, breathe. » He muttered, his hand unmoving.

She looked down to meet his eyes, her own glistening with tears from a foreign presence inside her. She blinked back tears while nodding softly and attempting to take a breath. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, her breaths ragged and trembling in concert with her trembling body. He nails were digging in his skin, crescent shaped marks littering his shoulders but his gaze never wavered, always on her. When she was certain that the pain had passed, she nodded slowly, gaining a smile from the man.

His fingers started going in and out of her while his lips kept kissing over her stomach. He could not take his eyes away from her, not at a moment like this when she was slowly starting to feel the pleasure of his touch. He could’ve, evidently, began with an other way of easing her into the act and the look of pain on her face truly made him want to peal his skin off. Now, as things would have it, she needed to be prepared before taking anything else and from the tightness of her pussy around his fingers, he would enjoy spreading her out to take him.

The more he thrust his digits in, the more she failed to stand on her two feet. Slowly, her body seemed to fold over his, melting down and loosing strength in her limbs the more space he took in her. When he inserted a third finger, the moans of pleasure she had tried to keep in grew louder. Her lips could no longer hold the gown in, to busy pushing out sounds each more obscene than the last. Her knees slowly gave out, her legs spreading wider and her juices dripping out more and more with each thrust. And when she was certain to have finally gotten used to whatever he was doing, he started spreading his fingers in rhythm with her moans.

« Oh, Lord, please… Please, oh, oh God… » She moaned, slowly loosing control over her actions.

Nicholas never looked away, too enticed by the sight of her. The more she folded on top of him, the tighter his grip on her became and soon, his moans met hers. Loud breathing muffled only by skin, she could only fall a little more while he kissed her side. His three fingers were drenched and the prince would be lying if he said that he wasn’t jealous of them in that moment. To get bathed in her nectar would be a paradise for him.

Her arms slowly wrapped around his shoulders, using his back as support while her legs shook from his treatment of her. She had completely disregarded her gown which covered her intimacy. It was an interesting position to be in, covered yet bare for his eyes to see and hands to hold.

And while he busied his fingers with her cunt, his tongue focused on roaming her sides from under the gown which now covered his head. His kissed, licked and hit into her ribs, leaving open mouthy kissed and marks of his teeth behind him. It still wasn’t enough, not until Nicholas found her nipples, ready for him to do whatever he pleased. When his tongue grazed over the soft bud of flesh, a yelp left her mouth, and when he started sucking on it, her voice grew louder.

Everything he did, he marked it down in his head, memorizing everything she liked and disliked in the moment. Her pleasure was his only goal at the moment and in life.

Her grip changed and soon her nails were digging into the skin of his back, her walls tightening around him and her sounds louder and louder. His fingers continued at the same speed while his teeth and tongue battled each other for a taste of her tits in his mouth. One was graced with his teeth, bite marks around the areola while the other enjoy his tongue and lips sucking little marks all over. Either way, they both were getting pleasure out of it. Even he, couldn’t deny that his end would come rather quick. As soon as she would cum, he would probably follow, beyond satisfied by the sound of her alone. But the prince did not want to let his cum of hers go to waste, already daydreaming of watching it drip out of her.

No, this would all be for her, his cock and his cum would all be for her.

« Hum, my sweet girl… You demanded I take care of the ache between your legs, did you not, princess ? » He expected an answer, enjoying the torment he was causing her. « I’m speaking to you, pretty girl. »

« P-Please… » She pleased instead of speaking up, too aware of how impossible it was for her to repeat such a thing without feeling shame.

Slipping his head out from under her gown, his eyes found hers again, piercing and dark with lust, he was unrelenting with her pussy as much as with his demand.

It was only after he had slowed down, silently threatening to stop if he did not get an answer.

« No, no, no ! Please husband, p-please ! » She cried out, parting her legs and reaching her hand down to push him back in. Despite his grin, she knew he would not let it go and folded. « Yes… Yes, I asked you to make me feel good… »

His face remained neutral until a smile spread again, this time with his teeth, on his face. Without a word, he dove back in, face under her gown. She squirmed in his grip, feeling her end near as it had been described by her maids and feeling the warmth of his breath over her cunt. He kept her stable and stunned before diving in to get a taste and suck in her clit like he had done her tits earlier.

This time with more fervor, his tongue danced over the bud of flesh as she wailed louder and louder from pleasure. He pulled her impossibly close, his forehead buried into her belly while his lips kissed all over her pussy. He kissed it like he kissed her, with desire unrivaled by even the loneliest of beasts. Nicholas showed her clit just as much love as he has shown her when he kissed her. He kept fucking into her with his fingers, more and more enthusiast as her fingers moved from his back to his hair, running through his blondish locks and pulling at the root. She moved in synch with him, bouncing on his fingers like a woman starved of her release until she came loud and hard all over his fingers.

« Yes, yes, yes ! Oh, God, more, please more ! » She screamed as she crumbled over him.

He kept pushing into her, deeper and deeper while she tried to process her first orgasm. Her hips kept moving up and down, following his rhythm and slowing down slowly. She was left panting and sweating, her cum dripping along his forearm. Never had she felt like this before, all thoughts and words escaping her but his name remaining. And she looked so magnificent above him, he could’ve died a happy man in that moment. If he wasn’t a selfish one before anything he would’ve been content with this, but Nicholas was selfish and he needed to feel her cunt squeeze around him like it had squeezed his fingers.

Hiking her leg up and draping it over his shoulder, he pulled his digits out before diving in mouth first to suck in her swollen folds and droplets of cum. More than being selfish, he was also greedy and that greed burnt the delicious taste of her in his mind. Never had he been so desperate for a woman. He wanted her spread in his sheets for life, taking over his space like she did his heart.

He kept devouring her pussy while she trembled, too sensitive to handle more of his treatment of her. The prince looked up with desire, admiring the state he had left her in. He needed to see more.

Detaching his lips from her with great dissatisfaction, he rose to his full height, taking her with him and lifting her up before taking a could of steps and dropping her onto the bed. Not even a second had gone before he kneeled onto the bed and grabbed her gown by the top before ripping it apart.

« Nicholas ! » she screamed. It amused him and he apologized with a kiss to her forehead.

« I’ll have a hundred more made of the finest silks for you. Not that you will need them much in the future. »

He pulled whatever was left of the gown and his own robe, tossing them out into a corner of the room. His eyes scanned her body from top to bottom, painting down the picture of her in that state. Oh how he wished to have his mouth back on her cunt at the moment, drinking in her taste and enjoying the sounds of pleasure she produced. Instead, he satisfied himself with his fingers, sucking on all three as he took his cock in hand and stroke along the shaft. His balls were tight and full, he could feel them ready to burst from the sight of her alone. Even now, drops of cum leaked out of his slit to coat the veins running all along his member. His movements were slow and sensual, his tongue lapping up all over his fingers before licking down his arm to swallow all that had poured on him. How good did she taste, his princess, his wife. So sweet and sensitive, he couldn’t keep fucking into his hand when knew that the only thing that could provide him with the pleasure he needed at the moment was her.

She’d been watching this whole time, panting and aching even more for his cock to push inside her and make her his in the eyes of traditions. She could see it glistening with pleasure, pulsating and she wanted nothing more than to taste it the way he had tasted her. Everything about his anatomy was so new and yet, she wanted to dive in and discover him intimately. She would demand they stay in that very room and be allowed to discover his wants soon enough, but for now, the night called for more classical things. The pleasure of the flesh and hunger for one another demanded they follow customs.

Nicholas pulled out his fingers from his mouth, coated in his saliva and slipped them into her mouth while his other arm wrapped around her waist to pull her up and have her sit on the sheets. Bare in between the red and golden fabrics, she looked ready to be devoured and just like she would demand, he would get to that later. For now, he pulled her to his chest and grinned wider when she kissed his stomach, pulling out the fingers she’d been sucking to mirror his earlier actions.

For a moment, a veil of tenderness enveloped them both, softness settling between the married couple to awake a need to hold and kiss the other. Her arms wrapped around his torso and her face nuzzled into his chest, kissing whatever she could reach. A small laugh was his response, as well as soft caressed on her shoulders and cheek.

« You’ll get all the time you want to kiss me, my love. Let me do what I need to do, hum ? » He kissed her forehead after she had nodded, again more than satisfied by her obedience. Thought he enjoyed it, he would not lie, following her around and obeying to her every command was more what he liked.

Laying her down flat on the bed, his hands parted her legs to give him more space to move. From that position, he kissed her collarbones while guiding his tip in the direction of her entrance.

« I promise to go as slow and gentle as you want me. Just tap my shoulder if it gets too much, okay ? Speak for me. »

« Okay, the shoulders. Understood. » She repeated, nodding animatedly.

Her eagerness was palpable and truth be told, the apprehension of him nestled within her did made her fidget a little. But the hunger for him to stretch her out to his girth was even more taking. It but at her core and made the earlier ache return with more bite than before.

« Hum… Your grace ? » At the sound of her voice, the prince immediately stopped, looking up at her. « I… I’ve never done anything of this sort before…”

Something in the way she had spoken breathed joy within him. Not only because he was the one she had chosen to be her first but also because she had felt comfortable enough to tell him. The wall they had built around one another had been crashing down in a pile of cement leaving them exposed to the other. And through that both seemed to breath for the first time around the other, finally able to express the truth of their desire.

The lips etched onto her collarbones moved to kiss up her neck before reaching her cheeks and lips again. As soon as his lips met hers, she eagerly reciprocated the act, following after him in search for the taste of his tongue on hers. The tip of his cock had been rubbing along her slit and clit and she couldn’t help but want to see what would follow. Always the dutiful husband, Nicholas was, of course, a greedy man first. His left hand came up to her face to hold her neck tightly and her jaw in place. He pinched at the bone and forced her small mouth open with a smile before sliding his tongue in in concert with his cock sliding into her.

« Oh, God ! » She cried out, suddenly aware of how much bigger he was while inside than in front of her.

Her legs shook slightly, struggling to keep still while her insides were torn apart once again. Despite him stretching her earlier, this would’ve never been enough to prepare her for the girth and length of his cock digging into her canal and stretching her to his side. Tears welled up in her eyes and her bottom lip trembled in pain, it was all too much, too new. She couldn’t breath and should’ve been scared, yet the soft caress of his fingers on her throat grounded her just right.

« Just like earlier, sweetness. Breathe slowly. » He commanded and despite struggling to do so on her own he obeyed.

Slowly, her ragged breaths were replaced by even more ragged breathing but this time out of pleasure and eagerness. The space he took inside her demanded to be expanded and she needed to have a taste of the darkness dancing in his eyes. His eyes, hadn’t moved away from her at any point. Focused on her eyes while he kissed away her thoughts, his tongue and hers danced together, teeth clattering occasionally while drool dropped out of the corner of her mouth.

Neither of them would get over kissing the other anytime soon and it was for the best.

The prince wasn’t sure how long he’d been still within her tight walls, kissing her but he knew that the tight hold she had on him would soon drive him insane. With each hiccup her walls squeezed around him tightly. With each breath, she had him throbbing harder inside her and through all he managed to stay still. Not for much longer though, not when she wrapped her legs tightly against his waist and her arms around his shoulders before pushing her face into his.

« Move, please, Nicholas… » She muttered against his lips and like a soldier ready to attack, his hips started moving. Slowly his pace shifted to go faster and deeper, his cock fucking into her cunt with more and more grit.

Soon the room echoed of the sounds of pleasure she created as well as his grunts of pleasure. Now on her ribcage, his hand rose to her breast to squeeze one in his palm while his other hand laid flat on her back. It slowly lowered to soon reach her ass that he squeezed too, using it as support to keep her close while he bottomed out inside of her.

The princess’ senses were like heightened by pleasure, her ears picking up on the sounds of the bed creaking and banging on the wall harder with each thrust. She could also hear the sounds of his groans and moans, all different and each more obscene. Of course she could hear the way his cock fucked into her warm cunt, his heavy sack slapping against her with more strength.

She could barely form a coherent thought to explain the way she felt and the sensations running around her body. All she knew was that she wanted more and so did he. He couldn’t begin to tell how good it felt to finally be inside her and feel that sweet tightness he had daydreamed for weeks before tonight. She held onto him tighter with each thrust and he knew she felt good, so good even that she pulled at his hair again, this time screaming her pleasure from up close into his willing ear. Like a symphony of pleasure and lust, the prince had never heard any sound as beautiful as her voice crying out to him in pleasure while he dug his cock into her guts.

He was quick to find the spot that would have her falling apart, a bundle of nerves which had her begging for his cock deeper and harder than before. And Prince Nicholas was a good and obedient man, whatever his wife wanted she’d get.

Leaving her lips, his mouth moved with his face to suck on her breast again, licking her nipple before his arms moved to cross behind her. Both his hands took handfuls of her ass before lifting her up and down on his cock. The prince started moving her body in tandem with his thrusts. He couldn’t hold himself together for long, he knew it as soon as he saw her in his room tonight, and his voice was the first tell. Growing louder and louder, the prince lost himself inside his princess.

« F-Fuck… My love… Oh, yes… F-Yes, yes, take it, sweetness… Take me good, my love…Yes ! »

This time it was his turn to leave crescent shaped marks on her flesh, his nails digging into the thick of her ass. She couldn’t compare to anything she’d even seen before but the prince fucked like a man possessed, his pants of pleasure louder than the next each one after the other. Moans and cries could be heard all though the room and even beyond, both knew it.

« M-My… Oh, oh, oh, hum ! » She had tried to speak but his pace accelerated again, his cock going deeper and slamming into a wall of flesh as well as the spot he had reached earlier. “Fuck ! Ah, ah, ah, m-my… My love… S-s-slow down ! »

Her voice trembled of pleasure, the kind that neared on insanity. Now, both her hands were in his hair, finding something to ground herself on amongst the thick curls on his head. Feeling the tip of his cock get even deeper, she looked down to see it through her stomach, a bulge forming on her lower belly. Repeatedly, the large mushroom tip of his dick pushed into her cervix, showing itself to the lovers.

Nicholas’ forehead rested against hers, following her gaze while he bit hi slips to contain himself but failed. There he was, all the way inside her smaller body. He was suddenly way more aware of how small she was in comparison to him, his cock wide enough to make such a visible image inside her. She watched his furrow his eyebrows, almost looking and sounding in pain. He couldn’t handle the events. From the taunting him in her little question to calling him her love. This would kill him. But he would die a happy man.

« Oh… Oh sweet… I-You kill me, sweet love… » He could only say while trying not to look down again. He buried his face in between her breasts to hide from the obscene vision. He would come quickly and so would she, he knew it.

Her breasts bouncing against his skin was pure agony, just like it was our agony to feel her squeeze him as tightly as she was. To reciprocate the « suffering » his hand came down to push her stomach at the place he had been pushing into. She bit her lip to keep in another cry of pleasure that would quickly be replaced by more incoherent screaming while his thumb came down to rub on her clit.

He needed her to cum around him and quickly or he’d go insane. He toyed with her bud of flesh while looking at the way his cock went in and out of her, stretching her out to fit him while he fucked her within an inch of her life. A ring of cum had formed around him, white and thick. That vision alone fed into his need to cum. He needed to see more of this.

« Come for me, sweetness… » He groaned with as much control as he could muster. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head while his own crossed, his mouth falling open to let out a string of animalistic grunts and moans. Both synchronized for a moment, her meeting his thrust with her own eager movements while he pushed into her harder and harder until both came in a string of cusses.

She almost felt like she had gone blind for a moment, white light clouding her vision as well as the groundbreaking sensation of her second orgasm raging through her. And if she thought this was it, she was quickly thrown back into that coital state by his cum spurting out of his cock into her warm cunt. The princess felt her husband spread through her and fill up every crevice of her pussy. Warm and thick, she felt his cum dance inside her for the next minutes as they both came down from their end, sweaty and panting.

Both were still moaning, the prince too out of his mind to keep himself from thrusting inside her some more. He didn’t want to pull out, not when she felt so good.

Instead, he chose to rut inside her tight pussy while kissing her jaw and throat. Her own hand caressed the back of his neck while she blinked away the sleep. His kisses were so soft and tender, she couldn’t help but to reciprocate, kissing his ear and into his hair.

« Have I satisfied you, my love ? » He muttered, falling on her. His body was covering the whole of hers as she laughed.

« More than that, my prince… » Her voice was small in that moment, just as sweet as her and filled with unspoken warmth.

He was still panting on top of her, holding her close and basking in the scent of her body enveloping him as she bathed him in tenderness. Both fell asleep slowly, his lips whispering sweet nothings into her ear and kissing her into a well deserved sleep. Through the night they remained connected, holding onto the other and keeping his cum and hers deep inside her.

The next morning, when the maids came up to the Prince’s chamber to notify him of the princess’s disappearance, they were quickly thrown out, all squealing in shame from witnessing her on top of him, bouncing and taking her early pleasure from him without a care in the world. Luckily she hadn’t seen them or even heard, too busy treating herself to a morning ride, but he had and he would not have anyone disturb his wife while she enjoyed herself on him.

As mentioned earlier, she would have him disregard his duties for the day so that she could have a taste of his cock herself and he would gladly oblige in exchange of a taste of her sweet cunt on his tongue.

It became tradition to find her in his chambers or the other way around. She enjoyed being chased by him at the hours of the night in her gown to be carried back to her rightful place in his bedsheets. The knights and the maids knew better than to look. The princess on the prince’s shoulder was for his eyes only. And when both found themselves in her chambers it was due to his need to smell her on him at every turn. More than once he’d sneak in her bath with her and before he could even speak, the maids would scurry out of the room.

When both became king and queen, nothing much changed except now, no room was left untouched, the throne room first to be christened.

Their future would be constructed on foundations of love and intimacy to catch up on the lost time at the beginning of their marriage and that same marriage would be one their descendants would remember as the best to ever be. All it would take was a princess who demanded and a prince who obeyed.

[hazelfoureyes]

The Big Part

Alastor x Virgin FemReader smut

(part 2)

You were dead, it was time to divest yourself of your virginity. When you ask Alastor, he takes to the task immediately. Unfortunately, he seems to enjoy surprising you.

warnings/promises: Alastor x Reader smut, Alastor dislikes getting naked, virginity does not rock, possessive Alastor, head pats, reader is an adult she’s just a nervous idiot bad at words

Horny little deer cult: @frompeach , @chirimeimei , @poppingaround , @polytheatrix , @itsmskeisha , @stygianoir , @celestial-vomit , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @amurtan

minors dni, this isn’t educational in the slightest and is just straight smut

It made sense, at the time. You didn’t want a relationship and you didn’t want to meet a stranger you couldn’t trust, that left very few people to ask. Husk would say no, and probably stop serving you drinks. Angel would most likely agree, but you were a little intimidated by his experience. That left Alastor. While you hadn’t spent much time together, your interactions were always cordial. And plus, this was hell. Isn’t this kind of situation a sinners dream come true?

For most, maybe. But you didn’t know Alastor. Not yet, not really. Everything he did had some ulterior motive. Perhaps nothing he had ever done was simply selfless. If Alastor wasn’t gaining something, Alastor wasn’t interested.

You caught him in the hallway one evening after redemption-oriented activities, deciding to get the moment over with as quickly as possible.

“It’s a favor, little… odd. But you’re the only person I have to ask.” Your eyes darted around his face, down the hall, up the walls, anywhere really but his eyes.

“I’m all ears!” Alastor tapped the microphone to the ground with a satisfying ‘thud’.

Oh— you had rehearsed this but you hadn’t prepared to be staring at that large, toothy grin. It wasn’t unsettling, it was just distracting. Would he be smiling the entire time he… ya know.

“I am,” you steepled your hands, pointing them at him, “a virgin.” You paused, hoping maybe he’d just infer the rest and you could stop talking.

His face was motionless save his eyelids rising up.

“And I don’t want to be. Anymore.” Your lips pursed together. C’mon, Alastor. Figure it out.

Alastor nodded.

You dragged your fingers down your face, “Would you help me with that?”

His head cocked to the side like a golden retriever being handed a book on ancient Egypt. Very nice offer but what exactly do I do with it?

“Help how, precisely?” He finally spoke, tone unchanged from any normal topic of discussion. Alastor watched your face scrunch up, mouth moving around words you abandoned half way through. You weren’t saying anything, just making panicked sounds. “I find annunciation most helpful when wanting to be understood, dear.”

You wanted to somersault out the nearest window. “Alastor will you take my virginity?”

“Take it where?”

You groaned, he laughed, “Just kidding, my dear! All in good fun. So, to be clear, you would like your first sexual experience to be with me?” He pointed the microphone from you to him.

You nodded, “Yes, please.”

His smile seemed to strain. Staring down at you, he tried to understand what your motivation was for this. But as he looked into your big, concerningly innocent eyes, he realized there was none. You really, simply, want him to be the first.

Ooh, as he thought it, he felt his pulse quicken in his lap. The first. A spot no one else could take. For the rest of your afterlife, he would always be the one who was first in you. A delicious thought. He could work with that.

“Are you free now?” He leaned down to your level.

“Oh. I wasn’t-,”

“Expecting immediacy? Perfect, the element of surprise has never failed me before.” His hand wrapped around your waist and drew you in to his chest, there was a rush of cold air over your skin before you felt yourself falling back.

It was soft, the room was dark, save for a small floor lamp in the corner. Your room, you realized.

“I didn’t know you knew my room number.”

“It’s my job to know everything about the hotel.” He said, tossing your shoes behind him. Was this happening now? Right now?

“I can do it, it’s, it’s fine.” You sat up and began undoing your pants. Alastor just standing there, watching. Smiling. Fuck, was it going to be this awkward the entire time? Should you say something? Touch him? You were lifting the hem of your shirt when you realized he was still fully dressed. “Are you going to take off your clothes?”

“Why would I do that?” Head lolled to the side.

You stopped mid-way through unhooking your bra, “Alastor you do know I was asking you to fuck me, right?”

He nodded. Maybe this was a mistake.

After taking off your bra, and finally your panties, you crawled to the top of your bed and drew your knees to your chest. Your feet hid your sex from view. Heart racing, but it wasn’t excitement, as you had anticipated. It was nerves. Would it hurt? Would you make a stupid face? What if he didn’t like the sounds you made? What if you regretted it after?

Alastor got on the bed on his knees, undoing his belt buckle but not his pants. The way he looked at you, your heart skipped a beat. You suddenly remembered he was called the ‘cannibal deer’ as you saw something akin to hunger in his eyes.

“What experience do you have?” His voice was suddenly low, deeper than before. This wasn’t the pun loving radio man you saw prodding the staff.

“I dated. Before. Kissing, um, I don’t know the bases. Groping?” You grimaced, it sounded so formal.

“Have you ever,” he began to slink toward you on his hands and knees, red eyes glowing in the dim light of your room, “been entered?”

Your cheeks burned, your head suddenly swayed as if it was half full of water and someone tipped you over. “Just myself, my,” you lifted your hand.

“Show me.”

All the air left the room, sucked out of your lungs and into his grin.

Uncrossing your feet, you tried to open your thighs without seperating your knees. It didn’t work, but you still managed to get a hand between your legs and to your entrance. You could have cried, you were soaking wet to an embarrassing degree. Your eyes return to Alastor, his gaze never leaving you. Even as you slipped a finger, then two, into yourself. You thought for sure he would want to watch your hands playing with your wet pussy but no, his eyes stayed on your face. Somehow, that was worse.

A shaky sigh escaped, your eyes closing as you tried to focus on relaxing around your digits.

Your head smacked against the headboard when you felt a third finger enter. Not yours. Your eyes flew back open to see him now directly in front of you.

“Two won’t do, dear.” He spun his finger around, pulling slightly at the thin skin of your entrance. “Unless you’d prefer this to hurt?”

You shook your head no, still stinging from the impact you had made. “May I?” His hand took your wrist and removing your fingers. Swiping your wetness from your ass to your clit, he coated his claw-like digits and pushed three back in. They were longer than yours, sharper. You could feel he moved gently, in and out. Your head was heavy, breath short and fast.

He laughed, bringing your consciousness fully back into the room, “Already wanting to change your mind?”

You shook your head side to side, still too embarrassed to speak, and took a grounding breath to help your body accept his fingers. He took his time, sliding in and out of you. His fingers picking up the slick and letting it lubricate your lips. It was so slow, the only pleasure for you was knowing it wasn’t your hand doing it.

But then his stretching of your hole stopped, and he grabbed both of your knees from underneath and pulled you down toward him. Now on your back, legs up and in his hands, you heard his belt slide through the loopholes, his zipper drop. You wanted to look, but you also absolutely did not want to look.

Your knees came together when you felt something hot and round at your entrance. “Ah-ah,” He opened them immediately. He reached for one of your hands, and brought it down to his cock. It was so hard under your fingers, but gave a little when you squeezed. It made him hiss.

“You tell me when to stop, little doe.” He pressed into your opening, pulled back. Pressed in, just barely making it past your lips, pulled back. He kept this pressing and pulling, head making slightly more leeway every time. Your fingers were holding right behind the tip.

“How about this, dear. I’ll just get the head in for now. Manageable!”

“Just— just get the big part in first?” You asked, the pressure at your entrance building with every shallow thrust.

He laughed, nodding as he held both of your knees further apart. When he attempted to get past the curve of his cock’s head, your hands flew down to press against his thigh, pushing back with the intrusion. Alastor stilled, sighed, and pressed his head fully in with a determined thrust. Instinctively, your feet came to his chest and tried to push away from him. It felt like you were being torn down the middle, your body forced apart at your most sensitive junction. He held you still now by the ankles, legs splayed in the air.

It burned where your walls were pushed aside. Stinging where the skin tore slightly just beneath your hole, unable to stretch.

“Breath, sweetheart.” He set your ankles down. “Does it hurt?”

You nodded.

“I’ll stay here for a bit,” he settled on his legs, looking down at where he was connected to you. Your pink little pussy looking positively overwhelmed by his cock. No one has ever been here before, and he could feel it. Your walls were pressing so hard against him his shaft was slightly curved from the force pushing his head out. You still had so much to take, there was so much more of you for him to explore. You tried to calm your breathing but your heart was racking against your sternum.

Hand reaching down again, you let your fingers count little paces from his core to yours. You knew the hardest part was over, but that didn’t bring much comfort as you felt how far you still had to go.

Alastor let his eyes wander away from your not-so-virgin cunt to your face. Your expression was twisted, not pained but clearly uncomfortable.

“How does it feel?” He asked, gesturing to your lap with a nod of his head.

“Full, so full.”

His cackle disheartened you, “Darling I am no where done filling you up.”

You clenched when he said it, earning a small groan from him. You were already too tight, when you spasmed on him it was nearly painful. There was more to do yet, more of you to claim as his. Just the tip of his cock was simply not enough.

His hips started moving again, the folds of his head pulling at the skin of your entrance but not actually crossing the barrier. He was gently rocking, barely making friction between you two. Your hand clawed at his knee, breath hitching. You let an airy moan slip, his head no longer an intrusion but something hot and melty barely rubbing your walls. It started to feel almost good.

Alastor’s cock was throbbing, his shaft touch-starved and desperate for the heat of your cunt. Your face was relaxing now, eyes blinking around new sensations. He wanted to see you experience more, more firsts and frighteningly foreign pleasures. He wanted to see you scared of how good he could make you feel. Alastor wanted you to never feel whole again without him buried balls deep in you.

“Can you take more?” His voice was like gravel, a radio static crackling in.

You met his eyes, glowing still in the dim light, wide and nearly frenzied in their dilation. His smile was practically beaming down at you.

“I don’t know.” You were scared to move forward, even though you wanted more.

“I don’t like liars.” A pop of electricity arcing at the end of his words. You pulled a pillow over your face, trying to hide from the reaction you knew he’d have as his voice made you tighten around him. “Your body says otherwise,” he hissed.

You wanted to say ‘yes’, if this could feel good then how great would all of him feel? But you were scared to vocalize it. Scared to make it start. Alastor lifted the pillow, “I need to see you, dear.” He set it beside his leg, “Do you remember what I said earlier?”

Brow furrowed, you shook your head. His grin widened to his ears as his hands slid down your thighs to your hips and he sank his cock to the hilt.

The element of surprise definitely made the nerves of saying ‘yes’ dissipate, but you were now choking on your breath, hands gripping at the blankets beneath you. Was this normal? Was he too far inside you? You felt nauseous, your guts prodded by Alastor’s member.

“How does it feel now?” He watched your eyes scanning the ceiling for an answer. You felt sure there was no way his head could leave you ever again. It was so snuggly fit in you, you feared you’d be pulled inside out. “Words, dear.”

You sat up on your elbows, sweating from the nerves of it all. “Like there’s a big stick stuck in me.”

“Accurate!” He laughed, and began pulling out. You whined, head dropping back. Almost taking himself out completely, he paused before thrusting back in. The head of his cock dragged against your walls, you could feel him with such detail. Every inch of him leaving impressions behind. Alastor could feel it too, how your soft warmth moved out of his way with every push. How pliable your womb was to his intrusions.

More. You could take more, he was positive of it.

Slowly, your moans began to get louder as the pressure faded into pleasure. Every time he bottomed out, you jumped. Every time he pulled out, you wanted to chase after him with your hips.

Watching your face soften, eyes now watery, Alastor was sure you were relaxed enough. He grabbed the pillow beside him, lifting your ass and sliding it under the small of your back. You didn’t ask, just waited to see what the point was. Dissatisfied, he grabbed another and added it under you.

Your hips were up, ass hanging over the ledge the pillows made, back bent upward. When he began to thrust again, you whinced feeling a new part of you widen for him. “Can you see me?” You looked at him when he said it, but he grabbed your hand and placed it beneath your belly button. When he pushed back in, you could feel his cock beneath your hand. Moving it, you watched your stomach bulge slightly when he was completely sheathed in you.

“Oh fuck-,” your head fell back into the bed, it was too much to feel let alone to watch, “Too deep.”

He hummed an acknowledgement, picking up his pace. “Let me see how you cum.���

Your face was hot, reluctantly bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing.

No, this wasn’t a mistake at all. If anything you regretted not asking sooner.

His thrusts now brought lightning to your core, your finger quickening in speed with the realization of just how good he could feel.

Studying your face still, he adjusted his angle until he saw the muscles in your neck tighten. He knew he found your g-spot, your moans dipping into cries.

“I can’t—,” You couldn’t get over the hump, knowing he was watching you, waiting for you.

“You can”, the lights flickered, his eyes now black with small red pupils illuminating your naked body, “and you will, my dear.” One of his hands stopped pressing finger sized bruises into your hips to instead push your own finger aside. The wide pad of his thumb took over and began thrumming you fast and hard.

That familiar build up of pleasure was stronger than you’d ever felt it, and when it finally snapped your muscles from your thighs to your toes cramped. How long had you been tensing?

You practically sobbed into the crook of your arm, Alastor’s hips slowing but still carrying you through your orgasm. They moved slower and slower, until stopping entirely. His head popped out of you, leaving you feeling hollow. Cold.

Eyes wet and blurry, you looked up at him, “Aren’t you going to finish?”

“If we do everything now, what ‘first’ will we have for tomorrow night? And the night after that?” He smiled, member already hidden away and pants buttoned. Your thighs twitched. “Same time tomorrow, little doe?”

You covered your face with both hands, and nodded.

His big hand came to your head and patted you gently, “Good girl.”

I hope you liked it 🥺 I don’t feel as confident about this one. Fun fact, my first time involved bondage. Very on brand, huh? 💖

༻Masterlist༺

Gonna start calling his dick ‘the element of surprise’. You look tired today! What happened? Oh the element of surprise kept me up all night.

[beloveds-embrace]

╰┈➤ A Harbinger’s Claim: Part Two

Spoilers for 5.1 Archon Quest, yandere capitano, captivity

Capitano brings you back “home”. It is a somber affair.

Part One

The journey to Snezhnaya is silent, except for the sound of Capitano’s heavy, armored footsteps against the frozen ground. Snow falls around you in a never-ending flurry, swirling like ghosts of a past you can no longer grasp. You don’t know how long you’ve been in his arms, cradled against his chest as he carries you away from the battlefield where you’d spent what felt like centuries lost to time. Your body is numb, not just from the cold, but from the heavy weight of resignation settling in your bones.

Capitano moves with purpose, his grip firm and unyielding, as though afraid you might slip away if he loosens his hold. But you’re too tired to run, even if you wanted to. Instead, you rest your head against his chestplate, your thoughts drifting like the snow of Snezhnaya.

By the time you reach his mansion, a grand, imposing structure buried deep within the frozen wilderness, the numbness has fully set in. The gates creak open, welcoming you to your new prison. You don’t bother looking around, too weary to take in the sheer magnitude of the place. The icy chill seeps into the walls, but even that feels muted, all your senses dulled. You’re aware of Capitano’s presence at your side, ever-watchful, as though he’s afraid you might disappear. His grip remains just as tight even if he doesn’t hurt you.

Inside, the mansion is dark and vast, but not cold. Maids silently scurry about, and you have no doubt that there are other servants working in hiding. Everything is shrouded in an eerie stillness, much like the man who now claims you as his own. He sets you down gently on a plush, dark velvet couch in front of a roaring fire. The warmth should be comforting, but you feel… nothing.

“Rest.” he commands softly, his deep voice cutting through the silence. You barely register his words, your eyes already fluttering shut as exhaustion pulls you under.

When you wake, it’s to the sensation of silk blankets wrapped around you, the warmth of the fire licking at your skin. For a moment, you forget where you are. But then you hear him- Capitano’s voice, low and steady- speaking to someone just outside the room. The tone is commanding, as always, and it makes your stomach churn. There is truly no escape, is there? Though you are a shadow of who you once were, he still remains a pillar of strength.

You force yourself to sit up, the weight of the ring on your finger reminding you of the binding promise he made..

Before you can fully gather your thoughts, Capitano enters the room. He looms in the doorway, his masked face unreadable, yet his presence unmistakable. His gaze locks onto you, and the intensity of it sends a chill down your spine.

“You’re awake,” he states, his voice unnervingly calm. He moves closer, his heavy boots echoing in the vast, empty space. He crouches in front of you, his gloved hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair from your face. The gesture, though gentle, feels like a claim, a reminder that you are his now.

“I can’t stay here,” you whisper, though your voice lacks any conviction. “I can’t be what you want me to be, Capitano.”

Capitano’s hand pauses, his head tilting slightly as he regards you. “You will learn,” he says, his tone firm but not unkind. “You’ve spent centuries suffering alone. You belong with me now. I will ensure you are cared for.”

You pull the blanket tighter around you, the fire doing little to chase away the coldness settling in your chest. You are only thankful that your legs don’t ache at the moment, soothed by the warmth. “I don’t need you to take care of me,” you say, your voice hoarse. “I’ve been doing it on my own for a long time.”

His masked face looms closer, his breath ghosting through the slits of his helm. “You’ve barely survived,” he counters, his voice quiet but resolute. “I’ve watched you struggle. Your devotion to me never waned, even in your darkest moments, even when Khaenri’ah fell. Now, it’s my turn to give you purpose.”

You shake your head, exhaustion clawing at your mind. “I don’t need a purpose anymore. I just want peace.”

Capitano rises to his full height, towering over you as his gaze bores into yours. “Peace will come with time. You are mine now, and I will not let you waste away.”

He turns, motioning toward the doorway. “This mansion is your home now. Every corner, every room- none of it is off-limits to you. But know this: you will never leave here without me. Your place is with me, as it always was.”

A cold dread settles deep in your gut, and yet… there’s a strange comfort in his words. After so long being alone, aimless, the thought of someone- of him- taking control is almost tempting. Almost.

“I won’t fight you,” you say softly, back to staring down at the ring on your finger. Your mind whispers of hearing him call you wife when you were asleep, but you don’t want to acknowledge it. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll ever be yours in the way you want.”

But he doesn’t give you the chance for ignorance.

Capitano’s hand hovers over your shoulder for a moment, before settling there, his grip firm but not harsh. It trails ever so slightly until he is cupping your jaw. “That will come with time,” he says, his voice like a quiet vow. “You will learn to love me again. I am a patient man, especially for you, wife.”

Capitano slowly takes off his mask, and though your heart twinges painfully upon seeing what the curse has done to his appearance, you don’t flinch away.

As he leans closer, you feel his breath against your skin, warm and heavy. He hesitates for a moment, and in that pause, you see something in his gaze- a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in the unyielding facade he wears so proudly. Then, his gloved hand threads through your hair, holding you gently yet possessively, as if afraid you might slip away.

Capitano leans down and places a tender kiss on your forehead, a soft contrast to the coldness of his armor. The gesture catches you off guard, stirring emotions you thought long buried. It’s a small break in his resolve, a glimpse of the longing he’s carried for so long.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” he murmurs, voice low and heavy with unspoken truths. His hand holds up strands of your hair, and he kisses those, too. “You’re finally here, and I won’t let you go again.”

His words settle around you like a warm embrace, igniting a flicker of something within you- hope, perhaps, or maybe something more dangerous. In that moment, you understand that despite the chains that bind you, he too has been trapped by the weight of what he’s always desired: you. And as his lips linger near your hair, a fragile connection begins to form, one that blurs the lines between captivity and care.

(Escape… seems truly so far away from your reach. You feel breathless.)

[dyingswanpavlova]

Treasure

Pairing: Hwang In-ho/The Frontman × Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Smut, Age Gap (Reader is 25, In-ho is 54), Usage of Daddy, Mentions of Emotional Abuse in the Past, Low Self-Esteem, Sex as a Business Deal, Edging, Spanking, Overstimulation, Face Slapping, Oral Sex (Both receiving), Gagging, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Minors do not interact!

Author's note: It's mostly bad experiences and smut. Anyone who knows me, knows I can't do wholesome...But, you guys, I'm trying!

It has been quite a while since his wife died and he hasn't gotten over it. But now he found someone who brings out a softer side of him...or makes him feel anything at all. Even if it's just the fact that he doesn't have to dine and sleep alone.

The day of her death was always the worst.

Of course he was always cold. One might even muster up the courage to call it cruel.

He was a complicated man in any sense of the word. While he was as cunning as he was handsome, he was also cool and composed. He didn’t ever lose that tight composure, until he allowed himself to. There were only few situations that allowed him to let loose and unleash the beast that lived within him.

It was rather obvious that there was more to him. The way he carried himself made it seem like he was no more than the stoic business man, but sometimes, sometimes you caught a soft glimpse of whatever was underneath. The way his eyes shone in a certain light.

 His brother was enough.

His wife, of course.

 But you were clever. And your sense of self-preservation forbade you to pry. All you had to do was do your job. And what was your job?

You found yourself applying a drop of perfume to your neck and your wrists, staring at your form in the mirror. The black lace covered most of your intimate parts, but it was just enough to leave him yearning for more. He liked that especially – when he had to use his imagination.

But sometimes, on rare occasions like that night, he needed more. He needed a little, naughty dream, to distract him from the turmoil that raged within him.

He was never cruel to you. He was just cold.

It wasn’t like you minded. So far, you had heard all kinds of things from a few friends of yours. Men could be vile creatures, who performed the most heinous crimes, whenever they felt like it. You were sure you could call yourself lucky, when it came to that.

He was older, that was out of question. But that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Not for you anyway.

You couldn’t tell when that started or what the exact reason was.

Your father had been a fairly good man. He never abused you and never hurt you out of the ordinary. The occasional session of spanking was something that stopped once you got older. Of course a child that steps out of line will get punished. It’s not that dramatic and you were sure, you took no damage after that.

He had been a kind man. Good-hearted. He loved you, your sister and your mother very much.

Until he got drunk.

Of course, he loved you then as well. And he never hit you then, either. Not you.

Your mother, sure. The poor, sweet woman she was. Her broken spirit cracked through the light in which her soul was covered, because she was strong like that. Gentle, but strong.

He wasn’t gentle when he drank. No, all you had to do was say the wrong thing at the wrong time and suddenly he’d explode. The way he yelled out of nowhere was the worst thing. The way he gritted his teeth like a wild animal.

You had flinched more than once during the course of your life, simply because he got so angry.

But after a while, he always calmed down, didn’t he? He came down from his demonic horror trip and suddenly, he was good again.

Of course he was proud. Too proud for anyone’s good. His pride often kept him from apologizing. In most cases, he’d just try and act like nothing changed, like nothing happened, like he didn’t just made the walls crumble with his anger.

But sometimes, when he went really overboard, he managed to swallow his pride and then he would apologize. A hug, a kiss, and everything was back to normal.

You forgave him. Why wouldn’t you? He was your father. He loved you.

But daddy issues? No. He was there, after all. He didn’t abuse you. Didn’t hit you.

You had no issues. Why would you?

Right?

You finished applying the perfume and decided to put on some lip balm. It held the faintest hint of rose-color. He didn’t like too much make-up. He didn’t like anything that felt like you were playing dress-up. The silk on your body, it only made sense if it highlighted your character in a way. Not change it.

The gloss on your lips, the blush on your cheeks. No eyeshadow allowed, unless it were natural colors. Mascara was alright, but no fake lashes.

Blush was okay, contour was not.

Lace was okay, leather was not.

J’adore was okay, Chanel Number 5 was not.

You released a slow breath and took a moment longer to check your appearance.

You were pretty, you knew that. Probably not in the way that made you get voted prom queen. More in the way that made weird men ogle you.

That was a talent of yours you had figured out at some point. Your eyes were expressive. And people loved to eye-fuck you.

Sometimes, you’d indulge. It depended on the man and the situation. It depended on the way his eyes on you made you feel.

Not any man would do. Some were perverts, some were disgusting, some desperate. You didn’t look back, when a man walked beside his oblivious wife and looked at you like he was ready to devour you. You also didn’t look back, when a man stared at you with wide eyes and licked his lip in a way that was too lecherous at once.

A subtle glance.

Not even a smile.

Just a look.

You’d look away and after a while, you’d check again. The feeling that spread in your chest was often the same. One of recognition, of attention. It made you feel pretty and desired. Someone wanted you. They were subtle about it, but not subtle enough to refrain themselves from staring.

In most cases, it didn’t lead to anything.

Sure, you had that messed-up phase, after you turned nineteen. Looking back, you really wished your father had been stricter with you. You were always allowed to do whatever you wanted. Meet who you want, do what you want, unless, of course, it got dark outside. No walking alone in the dark.

But he never checked who you were with, if you were truly where you said you were. Your parents trusted you. Back in the day, when you told them you had already finished your homework, they trusted you. Your bad grades weren’t their fault. They had trusted you to do better.

Back when you were nineteen, when you told them you were at the cinema with a few friends, they trusted you. They didn’t check, if maybe you were getting pounded away by some forty-seven year old man, who came on your face and left you feeling used and humiliated.

Never during. Always after.

You had no idea why you felt like you needed this so badly. Attention of men. Approval of men.

Men.

They were never good to you. They used you in most cases and then they’d just up and leave.

First, you were naïve. You pictured all kinds of things. Your mother’s Italian friend, who’d take you to Rome and buy you gelato. You’d walk some coast and he’d show you the lovely way Italians lived. He’d love you, you were sure.

It didn’t matter than he had a daughter your age or maybe even a few years older.

He’d love you.

But of course, he didn’t. Silly you, you really believed that, didn’t you? And he didn’t even say he would. You just made up that version of him in your head.

Some sweet guy from Oregon, who sang Arctic Monkeys song for you with his guitar. You only spoke online, but why care? You’d go and live the American dream with him. Of course you would. He had those soft, brown eyes and the voice of an angel.

You’d give him as many babies as he wanted.

So, of course you agreed, when he asked you to take your top off. Suck on your fingers, look up at the camera with doe eyes, while you did. You slipped two fingers inside yourself, moaning and gasping. Of course you were pretending. Who got off on this? Not you. All he did was stare at you. You didn’t see his face, while he pulled his pants down. It was either his face or the rest of him. But you were looking at him, while you touched yourself for him. It didn’t take him long to cum. But that was alright. You’d get married, after all. In some cases, long distance worked. This was one of them of course.

Blocked.

You spent months trying to find him again. But no way. He was gone, deleted, lost in the depths of the internet. A lost memory. A shameful one.

Sometimes you asked yourself, why your sister turned out normal. She had a job, a family, a husband who loved her. Or did he?

He did get angry, at times. And those few times when he called her a slut, when they argued. It wasn’t that bad, right?

That one time he left her standing at the sidewalk in the middle of the night, in a foreign city. It wasn’t that bad, right? She had angered him after all.

You felt nauseous, just thinking about it. Your sister was the epitome of life and liveliness. She was so spirited, that sometimes her anger scared you. Her confidence did for sure. She was your father’s daughter after all.

But the bastard she married broke that spirit.

And she didn’t even realize it. She just let it happen. You didn’t understand it.

But what you did understand was that she wasn’t as perfect as you always thought. Things were a little more complicated than you initially thought. But you were still far behind her.

You tried to push the thoughts of your messed-up existence and upbringing aside and focus on the task at hand.

Him.

Mr. Important.

You knew his real name and he knew yours, but names didn’t really matter. All you normally called him was daddy.

But luckily, you weren’t babygirl or little girl. That felt odd, even to you. It wasn’t that he was after that – someone who was remarkably younger than him. You just happened to be.

He was fifty-four, going fifty-five. You were twenty-five, going twenty-six.

Thirty years more or less, who cared about that?

And he didn’t really look his age. You found, he looked a good forty-six, maybe.

But aside from that, he was different. The were two kind of men in the world.

The real ones and the made up ones.

The ones who ogled you, while they were walking beside their wives and the ones who never got over their wife’s death and were looking for a way to distract themselves.

You had seen a picture of her. He didn’t make a secret of it. No, he was proud to having loved her. The thought filled you with something bittersweet. A part of you was jealous. Jealous, that someone got loved so intensely, that she’d never be forgotten, ever.

After all, she died young and pregnant. It made you nauseous.

And another part of you, the far bigger part, the less selfish part, it admired him.

He loved her. He loved her so dearly, that she took a great part of his soul with him, when she left.

God, you wished to be loved like that. To be loved at all.

You remembered the way you first met him. The subtle eye-contact. No smile.

But you didn’t feel like you normally did. Something about him was different. He wasn’t lecherous. He was calm. Almost like he was…lonely.

And he understood your loneliness.

The arrangement came quick and without any fuss. He did pay you, but not with money per say. He paid for your studies, he bought you gifts, sometimes he took you out to places you had never been before.

The theatre. The ballet. The opera, even.

That was what you loved the most. He didn’t just use you and left you feeling empty. He didn’t even fuck you every time you saw him. Sometimes you’d just go out. Have dinner. Talk.

You talked a lot and about everything. Sometimes you felt like you were an old soul, sometimes you felt like you knew nothing at all. He knew things. He looked at you. He listened to you.

Sometimes he could be really funny. On other nights he was rather quiet.

You didn’t care if he absentmindedly played with your hand or hair or if he stared straight ahead. Whatever he did, it always made your heart race.

You understood that you were treading on very thin ice.

Feelings were not a part of the arrangement.

He would never love you. You would never be more to him than treasure.

But when you lay there, your head on his chest and still breathless after you just spent hours doing the most wicked things to each other, you couldn’t help yourself. You craved his warmth. His arms around you and how protected he made you feel.

You couldn’t make a mistake. Nothing you did ever made him yell at you.

And that was rather dangerous.

Because you could picture it so easily. Being his wife. His everything. Having his children. Cooking his dinner. Doing all the things loving people did.

All the things loved people did.

You pushed the thought aside with intense fervor, when you heard his raspy voice call out for you.

“Treasure? Are you alright?”

You nearly gasped when you realized how long you had been in there. With a soft shake of your head and a slow exhale, you pushed down the door handle and stepped out of the bathroom. He stood in front of the fireplace and stared down at the flames, lost in thought. When he heard the door open, he looked up and met your gaze. Something in him stiffened for a moment and his gaze ran down your body slowly. You swallowed thickly and tried to push your nervousness aside.

You wanted to be perfect for him. But you were so far from perfect. Each and every time you feared he would look at you, scoff and shake his head.

“I don’t remember that much skin.”

“You looked younger last time.”

“Where’d that wrinkle come from?”

But of course he never said anything like that. Simply your insecurities, giving you a hard time.

He hummed softly and shifted so that he was fully facing you.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured. “Come here.”

You approached him with slow steps, the sound of your tiptoes the only sound beside the crackling of the fireplace.

You came to a halt before him and he tipped your chin up in a gentle way, slowly tilting your head up and making you look at him. He brushed his lips over yours in the softest way, making you shiver in response.

His hand slowly ran down the side of your neck, until his fingers brushed over the lace that covered your collarbone. His eyes followed the movement and he released a soft sigh.

“You get more and more beautiful every day.”

How did he expect you not to fall in love with him, when he was being like this?

“Thank you.” You whispered in return and swallowed a bit of your nervousness.

His eyes crinkled in a smile that hardly reached his eyes and his hands slowly came down to grip your hips.

“You know what day today is?”

You nodded.

“Good.” He whispered and dropped his hands to his sides. “Then be a good girl for daddy and distract him.”

You licked your lips and slowly pushed him back. He was letting you. Until you reached the armchair and he slowly sat down on it. You stood before him and tipped his chin up, making him look up at you now. The look in his eyes was nothing short of admiration. His breath against your skin sent a pleasant tingle down your spine.

You slowly straddled his lap and rested your knees on the armrests, pressing yourself against him and feeling the hardness in his pants press into you already. But not yet, you thought. Why not tease him a little?

You leaned in as if to kiss him, but the second before your lips met, you slowly pulled your head back, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

A low growl grumbled in his chest. “Stop being a brat.” He murmured.

You bit your lip and leaned back with a grin. “Me? A brat?”

“You’re just asking to be punished.”

That made you chuckle. “Well…”

“Oh, I see.” He tangled a hand in your hair and tugged on it, tilting your head back and making you look up at him. “That’s how you want to play?” He murmured and his hot breath fanned over your lips and neck. “Alright, then. I invented this game, little dove.”

He released his grip on your hair and grabbed you by the hips, standing up and holding you against him. He picked you up like you weighed nothing and strode off to the bed, practically throwing you down onto it. The sudden intensity left you breathless and you looked up at him with wide eyes. He reached for his tie and slowly undid it.

“I thought you were daddy’s good girl. Looks like I was wrong.”

He sounded as calm as ever, not a hint of anger as usual. He was just being himself.

“I am your good girl.”

“I’d prefer you to be bad right now. Because I feel like punishing you.”

You swallowed thickly and bit your lip, like you did every so often when he got you cornered like this.

“How?” You whispered.

He smirked in that delicious way, which lit his whole face up without even trying. Then he slowly pulled the tie off and ran his fingers along the soft material.

“Turn around.”

Within seconds, you were on your knees and facing away from him. His hands were gentle as he reached for your wrists and brought them behind your back to tie them together. You took a slow breath and closed your eyes, while your body surrendered. It wasn’t hard for you. You trusted him. He knew your boundaries.

For whatever reason, with him you had boundaries.

Never in your life before had you ever told anyone to stop or not do something. Was it fear of being rejected? Simply fear? Something else? Whatever it was, it kept you from setting healthy rules to keep your body and mind safe. You were free to use. Anyone just did whatever they wanted.

Sometimes you did protest, but they wouldn’t stop and eventually you gave in.

But not so him.

He had asked not once, not twice, but countless times. Until eventually you had been forced to be honest and tell him what it was that threw you off. And to your surprise, he didn’t get angry, didn’t even move a muscle. He just nodded and accepted it.

There were a few freaky things you were into and you were obviously allowing him to do. But if there was something that you didn’t want, he didn’t do it. Just like that.

How hard it was not to fall for him. Impossible even.

He tied your wrists together fairly tight and made a point of pulling on the tie to make sure it was good enough. You felt his gaze roam along your back silently. He then ran his fingertips up your back, over your shoulder blades and eventually the back of your neck.

“You’re my little brat, aren’t you?” He purred.

When you didn’t respond at first, he made a point of gently tugging on your hair.

“Yes.” You whispered.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“And you’ve been bad, haven’t you?”

When you nodded, he tugged again, slightly harder this time. You gasped and immediately added: “Yes. Yes, I’ve been bad.”

“So, you deserve to be punished. How should I punish you?”

There was only one right answer to that.

“However you wish.”

You heard the way he smirked. “Good girl. You’re learning.”

He hummed and slowly circled you like a predator. Of course you felt rather exposed, kneeling on the bed like that, wearing nothing but that thin piece of lace and nothing to cover the dampness between your legs.

“Look at you.” He murmured. “So open and ready for me. Let’s see how ready, shall we?”

He didn’t hesitate to slide his hand between your legs and run a finger over your wetness. You couldn’t help but inhale sharply. Your body was aching for his touch.

Surprisingly, he knew how to make you cum. Pretty good even. No other man had ever accomplished that. You’d normally count only on yourself for that, but Mr. Important? Fuck, he was skilled.

He circled your clit in the same skilled way, causing you to squirm and gasp under his touch. He began to work his fingers on you more and more quickly, keeping his gaze firmly on your face. Your brows furrowed in a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment, but you didn’t care. You were so close. So close. So-

You whimpered when he sharply withdrew his hand, leaving you aching.

“Please-“ You whined.

“Not yet.” He said calmly. “Open your mouth.”

You obeyed wordlessly, allowing him to slide his slick fingers into your mouth and making you taste yourself on him. The bulge in his pants became more and more obvious and it did things to you. The way he looked at you, while he made you suck on his fingers was enough to make you go dripping wet. After a beat, he slowly pulled his fingers back and dried them against his shirt. You let out a shuddering gasp.

“You still ought to be punished, if I recall correctly.”

“Wasn’t this punishment enough?” You whispered.

He smirked. “Not even close.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed and gently draped you over his lap, stomach down and your rear up in the air. Your cheek was pressed against the sheets and you closed your eyes.

“Ten. You know the rules.” He murmured and you nodded.

His flat hand cracked against your skin, sending a sharp pain through your body. He wasn’t gentle about that. Not at all.

You cried out in pain and tried not to squirm too much. “One. Thank you, daddy.” You gasped out.

He hummed approvingly, before his hand came down a second time, causing you to wince and cry out again. Somehow, every strike seemed to get more and more rough. Your skin felt raw and sensitive, more and more with every hit, but you forced yourself to stay still and count, like a good girl. By the time you reached the seventh hit, the pain was nearly unbearable. But you knew better than to beg and plead. It only turned him on more and he was ready and eager to start anew.

“Nine. Thank you, daddy.”

“One more. Just one more, treasure. You’re almost done.”

He deliberately waited for a few seconds, causing you to go rigid and tense in his grip. The uncertainty of when the next hit would follow was nearly killing you. Just when you expected it and you winced forcefully, he instead ran his palm along your red skin gently. You took a deep breath.

And then it came.

The most painful of them all and you immediately felt tears sting your eyes. Your voice cracked as you cried out: “T-ten. Ten. Thank you. Thank you, daddy.”

He made a soft sound, filled with approval and a hint of pride. “That’s my good girl. You did so well. I’m proud of you.”

His words made you feel warm and fuzzy and suddenly you felt like crying even more. Your feelings for him were more complicated than you thought.

“Thank you.” You whispered, still trying to catch your breath.

“I think you deserve a reward.” He murmured.

You tried to swallow, with your mouth dry and whispered: “I do?”

He ran a gentle hand over your hair and hummed again.

“You do. Let’s see what we can do for you.” He shifted you gently so you lay on the mattress instead, staring up at him with red-rimmed eyes. He ran his knuckles over your cheek and smiled slowly.

“Was it too much?”

You shook your head.

He took a slow breath and nodded. “Good.” He shifted so he was on top of you now and pressed a leg between your own. His knee slowly pressed against your core and you felt your eyes fall shut. You didn’t try to hide your pathetic whimper.

He smirked against your ear and gently nipped at it. “Look at that. Have you been this wet all the time?”

Your face flushed painfully and you swallowed your embarrassment. “Yes.”

He hummed approvingly and ran his lips along your cheek, before they finally met your own. You had no time to understand what was going on, when his tongue already parted your lips and delved into your mouth. He wasn’t sweet about it, instead your tongues met in a messy battle, ready to prod at and devour each other.

“What are you?” He groaned against your lips.

“Your cumslut.” You whispered back.

He groaned again and bit down on your lower lip. “Fuck, yes, my dirty little cumslut. You want daddy’s cum, don’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.” You moaned out.

“Where do you want it, treasure? Dripping down your chin or deep inside you?”

Your eyes nearly rolled back. “Wherever you want.”

He pulled back just enough to kiss your neck. His kisses made you squirm and shudder, but it only ever got more and more intense. You felt so exposed and helpless, but also cared for.

He slowly moved his lips along your collarbone, before they brushed over the material that covered your breasts. He bit down on it and tore at until you felt the cold air hit your now exposed chest. He growled in response and didn’t hesitate to kiss and suck at the skin of your breast. Your hips involuntarily arched against his knee, which was still working on your core. You gasped breathlessly and rubbed yourself against him, desperate for more friction.

“Please-“

“Patience.”

He licked a wet path down your stomach, causing you to writhe and moan.

He wasn’t one for half things. When his lips reached your core, he wasn’t gentle or careful. No, his mouth enveloped your most sensitive spot and he began to work his tongue on you almost furiously. He sucked and licked, slid his tongue inside you and over your wet folds with an intensity that made you cry out. He then sucked on your clit in a way that was almost too much, but just right to make you cum so good that you felt like everything around you faded into nothingness. You felt warm and good, better than you had ever before. He took his time and made the moment last, riding out your release so intensely that you nearly had to pull away from him when it became to much. He smirked up at you and slowly came back up to face you. He was fighting for air, as were you.

“Oh God, that was-“

He pushed his tongue back inside your mouth, nearly fucking it. At the same time he slipped two fingers inside you, curling them torturously and pumping them against you in a way that brought you close yet again.

“P-Please, I- Ah!” Your release rolled over you again, hard and soft at the same time, with an intensity that was near painful. Your hips arched off the bed and you nearly screamed by the way you couldn’t find it in you to shut your mouth.

You gasped for air and expected him to finally pull back, but he didn’t. He kept curling his fingers against your sweet spot and the feeling quickly became too much. Your body was so sensitive and every new touch he added felt almost painful.

“Stop- Please- St-“ You cried out and pressed your hips against his hand involuntarily. Your release came crashing yet again, this time it was a feeling between heaven and hell. It still felt good, but it felt far too much.

“Please.” You gasped, before the feeling even was gone. “Please. I can’t take any more…”

He smirked against your lips and gently bit down on the lower one, before he slowly withdrew his hand.

“Good girl.”

You were still panting and gasping for air, when he gave your cheek a light slap. “Time for you to get to work.”

You moaned, and with some effort, fought your way to get up. Your hands were still tied, so you carefully slid down to your knees, kneeling in between his legs. He was still in his pants, so you looked up at him with innocent eyes and whispered: “Can you help me?”

He smirked again and gently cupped your cheek in his hand. “So obedient.”

He freed himself from his remaining clothes and you found yourself staring at him. Despite his age, he was so well-built and you were always desperate for every glimpse, every touch and every taste.

“Can I?” You breathed out.

He hummed and nodded. “Get to it.”

Your gaze wandered down, but he quickly caught your chin. “Keep your eyes on me.”

Your insides tingled with newfound desire. You forced yourself to keep looking at him, while your tongue slowly slid down his stomach. You saw the shift in demeanor. He was still dominant and calm, but his breathing sped up and something changed in his eyes.

“No teasing today.” He all but growled. “Let me feel that pretty mouth.”

You didn’t hesitate to obey. You parted your lips and ran your tongue over his tip. His head fell and back and he groaned. He then tangled his hand in your hair and guided your movements. He didn’t give you time to catch your breath, he just pushed you down and forced you to take him in. You were caught off-guard for a moment and felt yourself gag. He loosened his grip the tiniest bit and you began to move in the rhythm and pace that he set for you. He quickly went from calm and collected to a beast which rammed his thick cock into you and began to use your throat to his pleasure.

You felt yourself grow wet yet again as you moaned against his skin. Whenever he seemed to hit the back of your throat, he couldn’t control the low moans and groans that left his lips. Your movements became more and more frantic, determined to make him feel just as good as he had you.

Of course you wanted him to fuck you and he probably would in an hour or two. And again and again and again…But right then, you wanted nothing more than for him to shoot his hot load into your mouth and down your throat.

You sucked and flicked your tongue against him in a way that made his grip tighten more and more until he-

He went still, except for his cock, which was throbbing furiously inside you. He came with a low growl and he filled your mouth with his seed. He held your head in place, until he rode out his release. When he finally caught his breath back, he released a soft sigh and his grip on your hair became gentle again.

“Oh God, that was…” He sighed again. “Fuck.”

You slowly swallowed every drop of his cum, all the while never taking your eyes off him. His eyes instantly darkened again and he ran his thumb over your tongue.

“My good girl. My treasure.” He breathed out. “I’m so proud of you.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch. It became increasingly gentle and he slowly cupped your cheek in his hand.

“That was incredible.” He murmured. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He reached behind you and carefully freed your from his tie. Then he slowly rubbed his thumbs over your sore wrists.

“Does it hurt?” He murmured. You shook your head.

He pulled you up onto the bed again and gently laid you down beside him. He stared down at you for a long moment, before he finally rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes.

“I don’t know about you, but I could use a full-course meal right now.”

You chuckled and wrapped your arms around him, slowly running your hands down his back. “Isn’t that what you just gave me?”

He smirked and slowly opened his eyes. “You and that wicked mouth of yours.” He murmured.

Your smile softened when he pressed a lingering kiss against your forehead.

“Can I stay for the night?”

He would most likely let you. He never sent you away feeling used or unsatisfied or, God forbid, unwanted. But there was a part of you that needed to be reassured so badly. And he seemed to know.

He raised a brow and his own expression softened.

“Did you expect anything else?”

His coldness melted away whenever you were like this, entangled and breathless.

No matter how many times he said that it didn’t mean anything.

His eyes told a different story.

“No.” You whispered softly and rested your head on his chest. “No, of course not.”

[cloudzoro]

Getting Caught | One Piece ♡

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Getting caught having sex with your man by one of his friends.

reaction/headcanon requests for jjk, one piece, haikyuu, fmab & death note (male & female characters) are OPEN!

masterlist | request rules

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genre: smut (minors dni)

characters included: ace, crocodile, zoro

cw: dirty talk, pet names, threesome, size kink, public sex, voyeurism, big dick!zoro, possessive behaviour, Zoros one kinda made me 💦🤭🥵💫 while I was writing it

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Ace

Ace has been visiting your home a lot recently. Since the two of you started dating, he promised not to be gone too long. When you do finally get him back, you're all over him.

He's sitting on your couch while you're on his lap. You grind down against his cock, which he had pulled out of his shorts. The brim of his hat presses against the back of the sofa and prevents him from getting comfortable, so he takes it off of himself and places it on your head. The sight of you stripped naked in just his hat has him bucking his hips up into you.

“sit on my cock, pretty girl,” he says. “Let me fuck you, baby.”

You reach down and guide his cock into your hole. He helps you sink all the way down onto him, and when he finally bottoms out, you moan in his ear. He holds you still as you clench around him. He knows if you start moving now, he'll cum almost immediately.

“Please fuck me, Ace”, you whine before kissing him. He hums into your mouth and slowly ruts upwards. As soon as he moves, the door swings open. Ace is quick enough to grab a nearby blanket and wrap it around you while pulling you to his chest, blocking any possibility of whoever just walked in seeing you naked.

You look to the doorway to see Marco standing there. He seems embarrassed and as if he's trying not to laugh.

“I was just coming by to see how your reunion is going”, he says, a smug grin plastered on his face.

“It's doing fine; now beat it!” yells Ace, throwing a pillow in his direction. Marco runs, but not before yelling through the now-closed door.

“Nice hat, y/n!”

Crocodile

He has you on your back, legs pushed up to your chest as he fucks you. He's so deep inside you and so big that he attacks all your senses. You couldn't focus on anything else if you tried. You can feel his palm pressing against the tiny bulge in your stomach.

“Can you feel that baby? Feel me deep in your pussy?” his voice has you clenching around him. The room smells of smoke and sex, and it makes you so dizzy that you can barely respond to him. You let out a long whine and nod. Crocodile laughs from above you. “Can I flip you over?” he asks. You whine a yes, and he flips you onto your hands and knees.

A large, heavy hand pushes you down against the sheets. He pushes back into you and the new angle makes you scream into the fabric beneath you. Every thrust sends you forward into the mattress, and Crocodile does absolutely nothing to hide your moaning.

A few minutes later, you hear a loud banging at the door, and before either of you can move, Mihawk swings the door open as if he's completely unaware of what you are doing.

Your husband pulls you upwards so your back is against his chest and wraps his big arms around you, covering your most intimate parts. There's a beat of silence before Mihawk launches into a flustered tirade.

“You two are completely inconsiderate. Do you ever fucking shut up?” While he continues ranting, Crocodile leans down to speak in your ear.

“Look at him; he wants us so bad,” he whispers. He's not wrong if the flushed skin and raging boner are anything to go by. “Do you wanna invite him in?” he asks, paying no mind to Mihawk's scolding. When you nod, your husband drops his hands away from your chest and between your legs. Mihawk goes silent now that your body is exposed to him. “She has another hole for you,” says Crocodile, pressing his fingers against your lips. You obey his silent command and open your mouth to suck on his fingers. “y'know if you want help with that,” smirks your husband, gesturing to the tent pitched in Mihawk's trousers.

Mihawk considers the offer for a minute before approaching the bed. Crocodile lets go of your body and pushes you back down as Mihawk pulls his cock free from his trousers. You lick up the underside of his cock and then take him into your mouth, relaxing into taking as much of him as you can. You can hear verbal encouragement from both men, but you're not focusing on the words at all; you're too busy being stuffed with cock.

Zoro

Zoro can't keep his hands off of you, you've been at a bar for all of ten minutes and he's itching to pull into the nearest bathroom and fuck you stupid.

“Baby, come on,” Zoro says, pulling your back against his chest as you stand at the bar. “No one will even notice we're gone.”

Your boyfriend is impossible to resist and you let him drag you to the bathroom. He pins you against the wall, kissing you as he pulls his cock free. He holds his hand in front of your face, instructing you to spit in his palm. He uses your saliva to lube up his cock before lining himself up with your cunt and pushing in. You pull Zoro into another kiss, much nastier and messier than the last. His hips rock into you, cock dragging against your sensitive walls.

“Hold on to me, pretty girl”, he groans as you cling to his shoulders. He fuckss you harder, intending to make you cum as quickly as possible so he can get you home and really take his time with you. Neither of you realise that you didn't lock the door until you notice a blonde man with a familiar pair of eyebrows staring at you in shock.

“Zoro, Sanji's here,” You whine, slightly embarrassed. He knows; he heard Sanji coming in. He just doesn't care. At this point, almost nothing could stop him from making you cum.

“Let him watch. Let that shitty cook see what he'll never have” The cocky smile on his face makes your pussy drool. Zoro isn't jealous; he has no reason to be, but he has one of the nastiest possessive streaks you've ever seen in your life. “This pretty pussy is all mine, right baby?”

“uh-huh” is the only pair of syllables you can form as he fucks you so hard you fear you might crack the wall. You're not lying, though. Every part of your mind, body, and soul belongs to Zoro and vice versa. Sanji tries to focus on glaring at the swordsman, but he keeps getting distracted by your exposed skin and pretty noises.

“Cum for me” He emphasises the word ‘me’ reminding both you and Sanji that every drop of cum that leaks from your sweet pussy is his. Your body follows through on the command, shaking in his grasp as you cum. Both men stare at you in awe. Zoro cums soon after, unable to stand the way your cunt pulses around his sensitive cock any longer. “Get out of here,” Zoro growls, voice startling Sanji back to reality and he hurries off so you and Zoro can clean up in privacy.

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thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

comments and reblogs are massively appreciated ♡

[onmyyan]

hi again i'm the Anon who asked if you take commisions only or requests as well. I love your writing style<3

Soo could you write about Batmom reader, where reader took care of bruce's children as her own. But then bruce gets a mistress, reader still stays becuz of the kids but when everyone started to become cold to her and insult her ' X (mistress) is better mom then you ever were' she leaves gonthem. Then everyone realises she (mistress) was just after their money. They go to batmom's room to apologize only to find it empty. They try to find her everywhere but couldn't. And finally when they do, reader rejects them since she was having the time of her life without responsibilty but gets kiddnapped by the batfam?

Honestly i wanted to commision but i'm flat broke and i'm too busy studying to work and on top of that i don't have my own phone (i use my dad's old laptop) soo yeah... I hope you consider this.

A/N: Loooove this request thank you for sending it in <3 fem reader yandere themes lmk if you want a part two

The (L/n)'s were a wealthy and prominent family in Gotham, right up there with the Wayne's when it came to power over the city, the two families were in business together which is why when Bruce Wayne personal attorney came to you with a marriage proposal, you weren't surprised.

A marriage of convenience. You thought you knew what this would entitle, you knew this wasn't out of love, that this was required of you, it had nothing to do with what you actually wanted, but you were dutiful and signed, inking your name on the paper felt like a deal with the devil.

Bruce hadn't bothered to officially meet you until the day of the wedding, it was beautiful and well done but lacking any form of love of affection, CEOs and other rich folk you didn't recognize filled the pews, the ring felt cold when he slipped it on, his vows perfectly rehearsed, and not an ounce of warmth in his eyes, you knew that night you should have annulled the marriage, but something made you hold on, something your mother had said to you as the makeup artist turned you into the visage of a bride.

"You'll learn to love each other, your father and I did after all." And she wasn't lying, your parents married for convenience as well but had grown to love one another, so maybe you could do the same?

A year after the nuptials Dick Grayson is thrust into your life. Haley's circus was famous in Gotham for its incredible death defying shows, but on this night death would walk the stage, taking with them Dick Grayson's parents in a horrible display, You and Bruce had consoled the boy for only a moment before Bruce was talking to the officers, he'd decided Dick was coming home with you, of course without asking your opinion, but it didn't matter, you felt such pity and grief for the boy, it made perfect sense to you, he was shut down for the first few months, he called you by your name and you had no problem with it, making it clear you never wanted to try and replace his mother, the ice between you two melted one day, one kind word at a time, he couldn't help but confide in you about school or his friends, because you were more emotionally there than Bruce was.

Like the night you caught him sneaking out, a packed bag in hand and the keys to one of Bruce's many cars in his hand. Instead of yelling for Bruce or Alfred you simply smiled at him, "you should take the audi, it's the safest car here."

"..You're not going to try and stop me?"

You shake your head no, still offering that kind smile.

"You know yourself best Dick, if you're unhappy here I won't stop you from finding your peace." He took a moment before tossing you the keys and reluctantly making his way back inside.

You find out about Batman because of Dick. He'd come home with some nasty bruises and it wouldn't take long to put two and two together. Them both being missing at the same time, Dick started to pull away from you, one night, after hours of trying to get to sleep in a bed much to big for one body, your legs decided a walk was necessary, the halls were dark and quiet, giving the manor an eerie air, quietly you walked the long hallways intending on stopping by the library, as you turned the corner you seen Dick in a hidden elevator, the doors just slamming shut as your eyes tried to register what was there. Seconds after the doors close a wall appears, as if nothing was ever there. It's not long after that you see a brief news clip of the caped crusader and his new sidekick, because the longer you stared at the screen, the more familiar they began to look, that dead tight lipped scowl on Batman's face, it was one you'd had the pleasure of looking at for the past few years.

That night you confronted Bruce, he seemed surprised you'd figured it out, but he didn't deny it. Simply saying, "It's late (Y/n), get some sleep."

You nearly divorced him then and there for endangering a child the way he was, but after a moment of thought, you realized Dick would need a real parent around so you stayed, making Bruce swear to be careful.

Jason comes next and he takes to you a lot faster than Dick. He craved the warmth you offered, you two had inside jokes and a closer relationship than him and Bruce, but that all changes the day he dies. You're broken, a ghost haunting the manor with your presence, and Bruce is no comfort throwing himself into the Batman role, you begin to hate him a little with this particular betrayal.

Tim was another hard egg to crack but you were desperate after Jason's death, so you took his verbal lashings with a smile, were always there to offer a helping hand with any of his projects despite the help never being accepted. Tims wound from losing his father is too raw, he takes a lot of his anger out on you. And you weathered the storm with a soft, warm smile.

Damian hated you, from the moment he arrives, which is bitter enough as is because it meant Bruce was unfaithful, he's spitting out insults and comparing you to his 'perfect' mother.

Things weren't great in your life, but one day they started getting noticably worse. Dick no longer responded to your check in texts, Jason (now reanimated which was a heart attack in and of itself) saw you as the enemy, you didn't leave Bruce after what happened to him, so in his eyes you betrayed him, Tim ignored your existence as best as he could, and Damian? He'd started staring at you with this smug look on his face, like he knew something you didn't.

Bruce had all but ran from you, he didn't sleep in your shared room anymore, he barely spoke to you at breakfast, if it wasn't for the cameras he wouldn't touch you.

And it's all because of a woman named Rachel.

Apparently Bruce had introduced this woman to the family, bringing her around when you weren't, slowly replacing you, it was no wonder they started to pull back.

Alfred is the only reason you find out, having enough of the blatant disrespect, he calls you to come home early one day saying it's a dire matter. Of course you comply, and walk in on a discomforting sight. The whole family was gathered at the dining room table, plus a woman you'd never seen before, she sat close to Bruce, toying with his hand intimately. Her green eyes lock with yours and the smile she gives you forms a pit in your stomach.

There's silence before Bruce stands up, he walks over calmly, "Can we take this in the other room." But it wasn't phrased as a question.

"No" you licked your lips, a nervous habit from your youth. Bruce seemed taken back by your sudden backbone. He nods silently.

"I want her gone Bruce. I am your wife. You will show me that semblance of respect."

"I- of course." You don't wait for the words to settle instead, you calmly walk to your room, face unreadable.

Locking the door behind you, your body slides against the frame, a silent sob wracks your frame, your hands covering your mouth, you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of hearing your cries.

The next morning you wake up to breakfast in bed, a generic yet elegant spread of food lay on a tray in the empty spot Bruce used to stay. The man himself sitting in the chair beside the bed, staring at you with that practiced smile he used to appease people.

"Good morning."

"What's this?" You sat up straight, sleep evaporating from your form as you took in the threat before you.

"An apology. I never meant for yesterday to happen."

"What a comfort that is." Your piercing (e/c) eyes stare at him blankly, unreadable. "How long."

"A year." You scoff pushing the breakfast away from you like it was poisonous. "But its not what you think, Rachel is a childhood friend, a year ago our relationship, evolved into what it is now, but I was never intending to go behind your back."

"Ah of course, your intentions were pure." The words dripped venom, grabbing your robe you quickly dress before standing and walking to the door, "Thank you for the wonderful talk Bruce, really your people skills are top notch." Your hands gesture to the door. He leaves without a word.

The rest of the day is as usual, Bruce avoids you like the plague, the rest of the family acted as if you weren't there. Which made leaving all too easy.

Your lawyers had the divorce papers ready and hour after you called them, signing them felt like the first act of self love you'd done in years. Slipping them into Bruce's study you took the time to analyze the room you never entered.

It matched Bruce that's for sure, pictures of every single person in the family. All except for you.

Walking out the door, wrapped in your ankle length black faux fur coat, the garment whipped in the wind, the designer sunglasses on your face hid your eyes from the world, hair in a slicked back bun, your heels echoed against the pavement, a sleek black car was waiting for you, you look back at the house that had caused you so much misery then got in the back of the car, never looking back.

Life goes on for about a week, your absence goes unnoticed, that is before Rachel is trying and failing to blackmail Bruce out of a billion dollars, she'd collected evidence he was cheating on you with her and presented it to Bruce with a grin, it was only as he went through the pictures of himself and Rachel, did he notice the yellow envelope with his name written on the front.

Hey puts the heartbreaking matter of Rachel's betrayal on the back burner, Bruce opened the envelope and felt his heart completely stop at the word divorce written in bold lettering across the top, your signature was already there, waiting for his to join it.

Ignoring Rachel completely now he turns in his chair, turning the paper over and over as if it would magically change. But it remained the same. Alfred knocking on the door of his study broke him from his trance. "Master Wayne, miss Rachel." He says the latter's name with no warmth. "Escort Rachel to her car Alfred."

"Bruce have you heard a word I've said? I'm serious I'll go to Gotham daily right now if you don't -"

"Now Alfred."

That was all it took for the screaming woman to be firmly escorted off the premises. Bruce all but ran to your room, he didn't bother knocking, and despite knowing in his heart you were already gone, he couldn't help but check anyway.

Your room was empty and cold, he couldn't believe the date he'd read on the divorce papers, it was dated a week ago, meaning you'd been gone for a week and he hadn't noticed. No one had.

That is until Bruce remembers there's someone in the house nothing gets by.

"How long have you known she was gone Alfred?" He asks leaning on his knuckles the divorce papers stared back at him taunting him. "Since the moment she left." The older man replied simply his hands behind his back. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?" Bruce felt himself tense, "Because you've hurt that woman enough Bruce. She deserves at least this." He gestures to the daunting divorce paperwork before turning to leave Bruce with his thoughts.

The news of Rachel's betrayal shook the manor each member feeling violated by their trust being broken. But it was nothing compared to their reaction once they finally realized you were gone.

"That was rough." Jason says after watching Rachel being dragged out of the manor, he blew air out of his cheeks arms crossed over his chest, he looked towards the hallway that lead to your room, you had to have heard that he thought to himself.

Dick sighs through his nose, "Someone should check on (y/n), Rachel was screaming so loud she definitely heard that." No one volunteers so Dick rolls his eyes and heads towards your room.

He lifts his hands to knock but noticed the door was open, pushing it further he's met with a baren room, his brow furrowed in confusion before he makes his way to Bruce's study. "Hey B, have you seen (y/n)? Her room is like weirdly empty."

Dick found his Father where Alfred left him, leaning over the divorce papers silently a storm in his eyes.

As he steps closer and reads the paperwork Bruce was staring so intently at, his heart stopped.

"Holy shit- are those real?"

"Yes." Bruce finally spoke his voice horse. There was a moment of silence before Dick left the room practically running down the stairs to alert the others.

"(Y/n) left Bruce." He said still processing the information, "No fuckin' way." Jason says pushing himself off the counter he leaned on. "Her room is empty and he has the papers, she's gone."

Each member of the family had different reactions to this information.

Dick tries calling you only to be met with a disconnected number, his heart hammering in his chest, he wasn't as close to you as when he was younger sure, but you were a constant in his life, always had been, a pillar of support, and suddenly you weren't. It felt like the floor had gotten pulled out from under him.

Jason curses under his breath, his mind working a mile a minute, he had barely spoken to you since his Resurrection, something he deeply regretted as the information of your leaving sinks in like a brick thrown into a river.

Tim, ever calculating is trying to figure out where you went, you were a figurehead in his life, someone that was literally never not there, sure he wasn't close to you in the slightest but that doesn't mean he wants anything to happen to you, someone as quiet and soft as you on your own in Gotham? It didn't sit well with him. Not one bit.

Damian didn't know what he was feeling at the news, he supposed he should feel nothing, after all you were nothing to him, but there was this nagging feeling in his chest that he couldn't quite place. And he hated it. How dare you leave and upset his fragile ecosystem?

Meanwhile in the Bahamas, far from Gotham and the neglectful family you'd left behind, you sat lounging on a private beach, a knitted hammock cradles your body, a designer baby pink bikini covers you, a matching sunhat protects your face from the hot sun, you can't wipe the smile from your face, humming a tune from your childhood you barely flinch when someone takes the seat besides your hammock.

"Do I want to know how you found me?" You ask, eyes still closed as you bask in the warmth. You knew only one person had the sources to find you on your own island, and despite how much you resent the man, even his presence can't ruin your shine in this moment.

"You're my wife (Y/n), I'll always know where you are." Bruce speaks softly as if trying not to startle you. "Former wife." You correct cracking an eye open, a small smirk curling on your lips.

"Not until I sign those papers- which I never will."

"huh, I thought you'd be thrilled." You muse to yourself before folding your tanning mirror and setting it aside, you take off your Louis Vuitton sunglasses, blinking your pretty (e/c) eyes up at him, "Figured you and your little Twinkie would have tied the knot by now." You laugh softly, the sound, unfamiliar to Bruce, sent warm shivers down his spine, it causes his lips to quirk up in a small grin.

"She's gone."

"Well, I don't care."

There's a beat of silence before he's offering you his hand. "Will you walk with me? I know I don't deserve it."

You sigh before getting up, ignoring his hand, you nod your head reluctantly, "Well? Hurry up I've got dinner at six."

His smile remains as he begins leading you along the shoreline. It's relatively quiet between you two as you walk side by side, a peace between you both you hadn't ever felt. "The manor isn't the same without you." He breaks the silence, "I sincerely doubt that." You laugh at the very notion. "It's true- it's colder, quieter, I want you to come home."

"That was never my home, you made that abundantly clear."

He winces as if your words cut him, "I know I haven't been a good man to you, I know I've failed you time and time again but I..I looked at those divorce papers and my heart stopped." He admits running a hand through his hair.

"You can't leave me."

"I can't?." You scoff, your movement halting, "I'm a grown woman- I'm taking responsibility for my own happiness, you can't stop me."

"I wasn't asking." He says softly, his hands in his pockets, he had this fond look on his face, like he was staring at you for the first time, in a whole new light. "You can't make me." You say, brows furrowed, "You belong back home, you're supposed to be with me, till death do us part, remember?" He steps forward making you step back, your eyes wide, hands shaking, you back into a wide chest, spinning to face Dick, who's grinning at you, he's in his Nightwing costume, he gives you a small wave of his hand, you scrunch your face in confusion, "What the hell-" your thought is cut off by a small pinch in your neck, the needle in Bruce's hand is empty in seconds, he's cradling your stumbling form, holding you tightly, "Don't worry - I'll fix this."

Your sleeping body is gently carried to the batplane, Bruce holding you close to his chest as Dick pilots the plane, he whispers promises into your hair, rocking you against him as he swears on his life to make things right, weather you liked it or not.