#Non Repeated Patterns

[xtruss]

At Long Last, Mathematicians Have Found a Shape With a Pattern That Never Repeats

Experts have Searched for Decades for a Polygon that only makes Non-Repeating Patterns. But No One Knew It was Possible Until Now

— Will Sullivan | March 29, 2023 | Smithsonian

Infinitely many copies of a 13-sided shape can be arranged with no overlaps or gaps in a pattern that never repeats. David Smith, Joseph Samuel Myers, Craig S. Kaplan and Chaim Goodman-Strauss (CC BY 4.0)

From bathroom floors to honeycombs or even groups of cells, tilings surround us. These patterns cover a space without overlapping or leaving any gaps. Like a rug filled with diamond shapes, where each section looks the same as the one next to it, every tiling ever recorded has eventually repeated itself—until now.

After decades of searching for what mathematicians call an “einstein tile”—an elusive shape that would never repeat—researchers say they have finally identified one. The 13-sided figure is the first that can fill an infinite surface with a pattern that is always original.

Repeating patterns have translational symmetry, meaning you can shift one part of the pattern and it will overlap perfectly with another part, without being rotated or reflected. The shape described in a new paper does not have translational symmetry—each section of its tiling looks different from every part that comes before it.

The designs on these rugs have translational symmetry—the patterns on the rugs repeat themselves. Juli Kosolapova via Unsplash

Sarah Hart, a mathematician at Birkbeck, University of London, who didn’t contribute to the finding, tells New Scientist’s Matthew Sparkes that she had thought finding an “einstein” (named for the German words for “one stone,” or one tile) could not be done. “There are infinitely many possible candidate tiles, and even the existence of a solution feels quite counterintuitive,” she says to the publication.

“Everybody is astonished and is delighted, both,” Marjorie Senechal, a mathematician at Smith College who did not participate in the research, tells Science News’ Emily Conover. “It wasn’t even clear that such a thing could exist.”

David Smith, a retired printing technician and nonprofessional mathematician, was the first to come up with the shape that could be a solution to the long-standing “einstein problem.” He shared his ideas with scientists who took on the challenge of trying to mathematically prove his conjecture, per the New York Times’ Siobhan Roberts.

The team published a preprint paper detailing the findings on the site arXiv last week, and it has not been peer-reviewed yet. But experts say the work is expected to be supported with further investigation, per Science News.

“This appears to be a remarkable discovery,” Joshua Socolar, a physicist at Duke University who did not contribute to the finding, tells the Times. “The most significant aspect for me is that the tiling does not clearly fall into any of the familiar classes of structures that we understand.”

Each "einstein" tile has eight kite shapes inside of it. David Smith, Joseph Samuel Myers, Craig S. Kaplan and Chaim Goodman-Strauss (CC BY 4.0)

The “Einstein” tile is made up of eight kites, or four-sided polygons with two pairs of adjacent, equal-length sides. Researchers call it “the hat” because of its resemblance to a fedora.

The shape is simpler than some experts expected it to be. Chaim Goodman-Strauss, a mathematician at the University of Arkansas and one of the authors of the paper, tells Science News that if he’d been asked to guess what the shape might look like before the finding, “I would’ve drawn some crazy, squiggly, nasty thing.”

In the 1970s, mathematician Roger Penrose discovered that two shapes could form a non-repeating tiling pattern together, prompting hopes that a single shape may be found to do this one day. Researchers have been able to make other non-repeating patterns in the past, but the challenge has been finding a shape that can only make a non-repeating pattern, Goodman-Strauss tells the Times.

The shape of “the hat” can also be morphed to form additional tile shapes that make non-repeating patterns, as shown in the video above.

This new finding could lead to materials science investigations—for example, shapes that form non-repeating tilings could help design stronger materials, Hart tells New Scientist. The elusive shape might also spark creative inspiration for new decorative designs or art.

[scourge-sympathiser]

SCOURGE SUNDAY 025/???

BLESSING leader of WATERCLAN

[daily-xisuma]

[047] Applied my version of Doom's partial invisibility fuzz effect and an accidental offshoot I created in the process, heehee :-)

[deservedgrace]

I don't know if I can say this in a way that doesn't come across as shaming (because that's really not my intent), but there's such a complicated feeling that comes from... intellectually knowing that no one comes out of the womb socially conscious, and because of the society we live in we all have to unlearn and deconstruct harmful explicit and implicit beliefs, and that everyone is in a different place in that journey and demanding perfection and shaming people for not being where they """should""" be is counterproductive at best and discourages people from continuing the work at worst

And also having the visceral disappointment of..... the only reason this statement or idea seems groundbreaking to people is because they don't choose to operate under a framework of intersectionality and choose to only listen to people who look like them

[comradecowplant]

my god people really love coming out of the woodwork for any sort of subject that even tangentially relates to compensating artists for their labor to twist it into "wow simp for U.S. IP law much? kekdoubleyou"

just say you don't respect artists & writers with your chest, makes you look less like a little bitch.

[navramanan]

still heartbroken but cannot move

[your--isgayrights]

The problem with dissection/the process of "understanding" in general is that going too far in abstracting something defeats the initial purpose of abstracting it and brings you back to the beginning which is the reality you were abstracting from and the thing is that the ☯️ is a visual translation of the fact that the furthest human thought can go without losing meaning in the process of "meaning making" is to draw dichotomy which is very similar to the fact of all or nothing data bridges that numerous sensory inputs have to trigger in a certain threshold of "difference" in order to trigger an action potential that conducts one sensation to another to create the physical pattern of a person making a "meaning" of something and while a computer trying to replicate that process would use 1s and zeroes because that was the most simplified/abstracted visual symbol of difference a person closer to our point in time could come up with, someone millenia ago observing the same process of the mind and meaning making abstracted it to the point of the dark 陰 and the light 陽 when the sun rises over the hill. Imagination is a physical process where patterns initially generated by simple chain reactions between sensory stimuli and behavioral responses that alter future sensory stimuli being reconnected and combined to create distinct, new patterns that then become a part of that concrete sensory data and perpetuate variation to a point where initial stimulus loses relevance. Everything created by humans can be understood by other humans because the functionality of our understanding has largely remained consistent over a long period of time, the variations in our attachments between symbols and internal stimuli occur at a much faster rate than variations in the physical makeup of our understanding process. The probability of that understanding, however, will be affected by variations at different levels of the process. Variety in stimulus/lived experiences/input data can cause difference in understanding, attachment of different external behavioral responses to distinct internal processes can cause difference in understanding and the pathway of understanding connecting similar input data of the senses to similar output data of actions can be variable while producing the same outwardly visible results. Given such disparate probabilities, isn't it really a miracle then when two human beings are able to understand one another?

[opencommunion]

"The story of  'John Doe 1' of the Democratic Republic of the Congo is tucked in a lawsuit filed five years ago against several U.S. tech companies, including Tesla, the world’s largest electric vehicle producer. In a country where the earth hides its treasures beneath its surface, those who chip away at its bounty pay an unfair price. As a pre-teen, his family could no longer afford to pay his $6 monthly school fee, leaving him with one option: a life working underground in a tunnel, digging for cobalt rocks.  But soon after he began working for roughly two U.S. dollars per day, the child was buried alive under the rubble of a collapsed mine tunnel. His body was never recovered. 

The nation, fractured by war, disease, and famine, has seen more than 6 million people die since the mid-1990s, making the conflict the deadliest since World War II. But, in recent years, the death and destruction have been aided by the growing number of electric vehicles humming down American streets. In 2022, the U.S., the world’s third-largest importer of cobalt, spent nearly $525 million on the mineral, much of which came from the Congo.

As America’s dependence on the Congo has grown, Black-led labor and environmental organizers here in the U.S. have worked to build a transnational solidarity movement. Activists also say that the inequities faced in the Congo relate to those that Black Americans experience. And thanks in part to social media, the desire to better understand what’s happening in the Congo has grown in the past 10 years. In some ways, the Black Lives Matter movement first took root in the Congo after the uprising in Ferguson in 2014, advocates say. And since the murder of George Floyd and the outrage over the Gaza war, there has been an uptick in Congolese and Black American groups working on solidarity campaigns.

Throughout it all, the inequities faced by Congolese people and Black Americans show how the supply chain highlights similar patterns of exploitation and disenfranchisement. ... While the American South has picked up about two-thirds of the electric vehicle production jobs, Black workers there are more likely to work in non-unionized warehouses, receiving less pay and protections. The White House has also failed to share data that definitively proves whether Black workers are receiving these jobs, rather than them just being placed near Black communities. 'Automakers are moving their EV manufacturing and operations to the South in hopes of exploiting low labor costs and making higher profits,' explained Yterenickia Bell, an at-large council member in Clarkston, Georgia, last year. While Georgia has been targeted for investment by the Biden administration, workers are 'refusing to stand idly by and let them repeat a cycle that harms Black communities and working families.'

... Of the 255,000 Congolese mining for cobalt, 40,000 are children. They are not only exposed to physical threats but environmental ones. Cobalt mining pollutes critical water sources, plus the air and land. It is linked to respiratory illnesses, food insecurity, and violence. Still, in March, a U.S. court ruled on the case, finding that American companies could not be held liable for child labor in the Congo, even as they helped intensify the prevalence. ... Recently, the push for mining in the Congo has reached new heights because of a rift in China-U.S. relations regarding EV production. Earlier this month, the Biden administration issued a 100% tariff on Chinese-produced EVs to deter their purchase in the U.S. Currently, China owns about 80% of the legal mines in the Congo, but tens of thousands of Congolese work in 'artisanal' mines outside these facilities, where there are no rules or regulations, and where the U.S. gets much of its cobalt imports.  'Cobalt mining is the slave farm perfected,' wrote Siddharth Kara last year in the award-winning investigative book Cobalt Red: How The Blood of the Congo Powers Our Lives. 'It is a system of absolute exploitation for absolute profit.' While it is the world’s richest country in terms of wealth from natural resources, Congo is among the poorest in terms of life outcomes. Of the 201 countries recognized by the World Bank Group, it has the 191st lowest life expectancy."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Honeysuckle.

Pairing: Butterfly!Fae!OC x Reader.

Word Count: 4.2k.

Written For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Aphrodisiacs, Dehumanization, Unhealthy Relationships, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Borderline Monster-Fucking.

The moment you saw her, you knew that she had to be the most beautiful creature that you would ever see.

Her wings were what struck you first – about ten feet tall and five across, the upper arch curved downward to better complement the large, black splotches currently prying into you through the shadows of the unlit garden. Swirling patterns of orange and red danced across a rich, dusty sort of brown, while white framed the outer perimeter, standing out sharply against the dull foliage. Although you’d initially mistaken her for one of the large, nocturnal birds that’d taken to crashing into your sugar water dispensers in the early hours of the morning, it was clear that she was more or less a woman – her long, sculpted legs bent and tucked against her chest, the arch of her back clear even in the dim light of your lantern. What seemed like hundreds of thousands of braids cast in the same shades as her wings hung to her waist, a pair of furred antennae tangled among them, and domed eyes larger than your fist and blacker than the night sky stared you down, unblinking. It was only when your eyes met hers that you realized your own gaze must’ve been just as invasive, and found the will to turn your attention to more important things than her (admittedly, extremely strange) appearance.

Instead, you poured your energy into the only other thing you could think to do: speaking. Or, attempting to, at least. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” And then, after a sharp inhale, a steadying breath, “I—I’m staying in the cottage this garden belongs to. Are you hurt, or injured, or—god, do you even speak English?”

If she had any intention of responding, she didn’t plan to do so vocally. The creature—the woman remained where she was, utterly motionless, utterly silent. It was only when you hazarded a step towards her that she reacted at all, her wings fanning to either side as she—

Ah.

So she was hurt.

The position of her wings had hidden it before, but you could make out the cause of her distress clearly, now. From the uppermost tip of her left wing to the lowest curve stretched a jagged tear, as if someone had taken a knife to it. Instantly, a new irritation blended with your prior concern, but you forced yourself not to dwell. There were more important things to focus on, at the moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you repeated, edging that much closer. When she curled further into herself, you paused, lowering yourself onto your knees and placing your lantern on the ground in front of you. “I understand, you’re hurt, and there’s not much I can do to help you, but—” Holding up one hand, you shoved the other into a pocket of your apron, fishing out a single, palm-sized peach. You picked it earlier, planning on eating it yourself, but you’d never been so glad to have forgotten a meal. “You… You like sweet things, right? Are you hungry?”

Tentatively, you held the peach out to her, and before you had time to process that she’d moved at all, a hand had lashed out and snatched it away. You watched with rapt interest as her lips slit apart and a pair of pointed fangs (her maxillary palps, you figured, although you couldn’t be sure) dug into the peach’s tender flesh, her curling tongue lashing out to lap at the flesh and lick up the juice dripping down her fingers. While she was distracted, you moved closer, kneeling less than a full arm’s length from her wings to better admire the way they fluttered with every little movement, seemingly indifferent to her injury. There were more details you hadn’t noticed – she wasn’t wearing any clothes, but her entire body was covered in a fine, brown setae that grew thicker around her neck and chest and thinned as it reached her face and hands. She had an extra pair of arms, too, currently crossed over her chest, tucked so neatly underneath their more expected counterparts that you hadn’t been able to see them at all from a distance. Despite everything, you found yourself smiling. “If you’re in any pain, I can help with that. And—And, if you’re sensitive to temperature, you’re more than welcome to spend the night inside, but only if you’d like—”

Your attention drifted back to her face, and immediately, you cut yourself off. Her gaze was trained not on you, but on the space behind you – more accurately, on your lantern, still where you’d left it on the grass. “Oh,” you muttered, laughing to yourself. She must’ve been more moth-like than you’d realized.

Taking it by the handle, you offered it up to her as well. “I know it’s not much, but there’s enough oil in it to last until morning. If you get cold, I can bring out some blankets, too.”

It was obvious she didn’t understand a thing you were saying, but still, she eyed the lantern wearily. After a moment, she raised the lower of her right hands, angling her fingers and flicking her wrist. As if by magic (most likely because it was, probably, by magic), a perfect ball of light appeared in her palm, stagnant for a moment before rising a few inches into the open air. Wordlessly, she held it out in your direction.

For a long moment, you were silent.

In the even longer moment following, you were also silent.

Finally, when you started to think she might lose interest in you entirely, you managed to spit something out. “C-can you do that again?”

For the first time since you’d stumbled onto her, you saw the corner of her lips quirk upward.

You spent the rest of that night watching a strange, ten-foot-tall butterfly woman conjure strings of light until the sun rose and you fell asleep in the grass.

And at the time, you didn’t know to be anything but relieved that, upon waking, she was still by your side.

~

She healed remarkably quickly – a near-transparent chitin film appearing over the missing portion of her skin within twenty-four hours of her initial appearance. Still, Leo (as you’d started calling her when you realized she could only express her own name through a series of swirling patterns of light and borderline inaudible clicking sounds) seemed to have little interest in leaving your cottage and even less in leaving your line of sight. It took her less than a full two days to start trailing after you as you did your daily work around your garden and the forest that surrounded it, less than a week to start knocking on your windows at night, pouting when you tried to explain the concept of sleep through a language barrier, and today, on your one month anniversary, you’d finally gotten her to come inside properly. Currently, she was poking through your bedroom while you worked at your desk, transferring a never-ending list of borderline meaningless statistics from your roughly handled field journal to more appropriate sheets and charts. Or, trying to work, anyway. Admittedly, it was difficult to take your eyes off of her.

And, as you heard something large and fragile hit the floor and shatter, you were forced to give up any pretense of attempting to. Sighing, you twisted around your seat and immediately found Leo, standing next to your bedside table, what used to be a lamp sitting in shattered pieces at her feet as she stared down at it with a hawk-like sort of vigilance. Her wings were tucked cautiously against her back, lips pursed in concentration. You could only shake your head, grinning as you sighed. She was smart, but curious, and painfully unfamiliar with anything remotely human. It was cute – just how little she seemed to know about you.

(You were aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that your judgement around Leo was skewed. Mostly, you could chalk it up to scientific curiosity, not wanting to disturb a live specimen as it would act in its natural habitat and all, but even you knew there must’ve been something else to it, something more selfish. It might’ve just been her naivety. It was hard to get mad at someone who didn’t know she was doing anything wrong.)

Eventually, her gaze shifted to you. “Broken,” she said, assertively.

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling. She was getting better at your language, even if the words still sounded somewhat awkward on her inhuman tongue. “Very broken,” you agreed, waving her over to you. “I’ll clean it up later – have a look at this for me, first.”

Turning away from her, you fished a thick, leather-bound book out of the chaos that was your desk and opened it to a marked page. “I think you might be one of these,” you said, pointing to an illustration of a half-moth, half-man type creature. Admittedly, the written description lacked many her more other-worldly traits, but there were only so many types of butterfly people to choose from. “They’re supposed to be—uh, extra-dimensional, I think, which would explain your more supernatural abilities, but they’re kind of, um—”

“Hideous. Very hideous.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “That.”

She reached over you, one left hand resting on your shoulder while the other flipped through yellowed pages. She’d only been searching for a minute or so when she seemed to find what she was looking for, pointing decisively to an illustration of an extremely beautiful woman kneeling in front of a disemboweled man’s body, her mouth dripping with blood and one of her hands still buried inside of his torn-open chest. The caption underneath it read ‘Fae, neighbors, folk of the air’ in golden illuminated manuscript.

You pursed your lips. Fairies weren’t real, but this illustration did look a lot more like Leo than yours had.

By the time you looked towards her, she’d lost interest entirely, instead fiddling with a picture frame that’d previously been on the corner of your desk. In an instant, you felt your blood run cold. You could’ve sworn you’d hidden all your framed samples before inviting her inside, found every single pinned-up dragonfly, moth, and butterfly and stuffed them all into the deepest, darkest closet you could find. You couldn’t imagine how you would’ve felt – stumbling into an alien creature home only to find a miniature version of your own carcass nailed down behind a pane of glass. She must’ve been so afr—

The frame tilted towards you, and you managed to pull yourself out of your panicked spiral long enough to realize that she was not looking at a preserved insect, but a picture of your housecat – a cute one, too, taken while she was leashed on your patio, sunbathing on her back. You sighed, sinking into your chair and smiling up at her. “That’s Missy. I thought about bringing her, but she’d be a terror on the local wildlife.” And then, more hesitantly, “Do you have any pets?”

You couldn’t imagine Leo taking care of anything, but she seemed fond enough of birds ‘and other insects. Plus, if she did have a pet, it’d tell you something about where she came from – if she had a house, or migratory season, or there were other people with wings and antenna and a spare set of limbs lurking just outside of your peripheral. It was a good place to start, but she didn’t seem to understand the question – only pursing her lips. “…Pet?”

“Like, an animal that you take care of, that you love,” you started, gesturing vaguely, as if that’d make your point any more clear. “Most people have cats and dogs, but—”

“No cats.” Her wings fluttered, her gaze narrowing at the picture. “Big teeth. Sharp claws. Violent.”

“Got it, no cats.”  You slung an arm over the back of your chair. “It’s too bad. Missy was a good girl. You two would’ve gotten along.”

She seemed to think for a long moment, considering. Finally, as one of her free hands came to rest on the top of your head, she glanced towards you. “You are… pet?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no, I’m a friend. Do you know what that is?”

If she wanted to answer, she didn’t seem to think of it as a priority. Her hand fell to your chin, another rising to cup your face entirely. Her thumbs traced over your cheeks as she smiled down at you, and with an airy laugh, you melted into her palms. “Good girl,” she cooed, her voice saccharine, her tony sappy. “Very good girl.”

It would’ve been a sweeter moment if you hadn’t heard the familiar sound of glass shattering at your feet, your picture frame dropped and discarded with just as little thought.

~

As far as you could tell, her wings were necessary for flight, but not actively a part of it. As the chitin film healed over entirely, the shape and color of her wings seemed to shift, taking on a luminescent green overtone, the eyes on the upper segments fading as their lower counterparts sprouted a pair of long, curling tails. Her fur and hair followed suit, and by the time she was able to get her feet off the ground, she was practically unrecognizable as the creature you’d first taken in. You were proud of her, even if you doubted she needed your support. Or, you wanted to be, at least.

Even after Leo had all-but recovered, she stayed nearby – rarely leaving your sight for longer than an hour. If you hadn’t been so curious, you might’ve been concerned. Butterflies were short-lived, migratory creatures. It wasn’t normal for them to stay in a single place for so long, not unless they were looking for a ma—

You were drawn out of your thoughts as you felt something light hit the top of your head – flower petals, you realized, as pieces of shredded coneflower and button bush trickled down into your lap. You tilted your head back, immediately finding Leo hovering about ten feet above you; tearing apart a handful of flowers petal-by-petal. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to – grinning as she motioned for you to follow her. You didn’t bother trying to resist, only pushing yourself to your feet and trailing after her.

She landed on the very outskirts of your property – where your garden met the forest proper. It took a few minutes of wading through foliage, but eventually, you managed to join her in her makeshift clearing.

The smell of iron hit you, first.

Not rot, but blood – fresh and metallic, strong enough to make you reel back. You almost stumbled, almost tripped, but a larger hand caught your wrist, trapping you where you were. You made no attempt to pull away. No, you were too focused on the—on the corpse in front of you, all blood-soaked feathers and broken bones and spilled viscera. It must’ve been a hawk, or a falcon, something with an absolutely massive wingspan and claws to match. Any other identifying features had been crushed, bent out of shape, or reduced to a fine, liquid pulp that was slowly soaking into the ground.

Your gaze flickered back to Leo, her grin just a touch more satisfied than it’d seemed, before. “Leo,” you started, forcing an unsteady smile. “I know we talked about pets, but—”

“Not a pet.” The correction was as swift as it was sugary. “A treat. A gift.”

Huh.

You didn’t remember teaching her that one.

~

It was more startling than you would’ve expected – waking up to the feeling of feather soft hands.

You guessed that wasn’t entirely true. They weren’t feather soft, and you should’ve known better than to say they were. Velvet would’ve been more a more accurate comparison, or satin – anything soft and rich that seemed to melt where it touched your skin. You couldn’t have been waking up, either, because that would’ve meant you were asleep, and there was no way you could’ve been asleep and staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, feeling more exhausted than you ever had before. You would’ve liked to sit up, to see what was going on, but you couldn’t seem to move.

Leo was above you, straddling your waist. In her new form, she was practically iridescent – her wings reflecting the dull moonlight as if she was the one glowing. She was summoning her lights, again – drawing strings of silver drew drops with one hang while the other shaped them absentmindedly into a ring, one large enough to fit around your thigh. Or your neck.

For whatever reason, your mind was unwilling to linger on the thought.

She lifted her head every so slightly, her inky gaze settling on you. She was already touching you, one hand cupping your cheek while another brushed through your hair, but it took you longer than it should’ve to recognize just how warm your face felt, to put a name to knotted tension resting heavy in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to push her away, but your arms felt like lead at your sides, and— oh, she was already dipping down to your height, nuzzling gently against the top of your head before her hand found your chin, raising your head as her lips found yours.

It was less of a kiss and more of a prolonged collision, her tongue slipping easily past your parted lips, raking over your own with a measured kind of slowness. Her taste was as sweet as her voice, as her touch – all honeyed nectar and syrupy ambrosia and pure, liquidized sugar. It was beyond overwhelming. It was beyond euphoric. You were melting into her before you could so much as think about stopping yourself, letting out a fractured whine as you moved her lips sloppily against hers, as the tapered tip of her tongue hit the back of your throat and—

And you drew back with a sharp gasp, shuddering as you pressed yourself into your mattress. You shouldn’t be doing this. You couldn’t do this. She wasn’t an animal but god, she wasn’t far off.

“Leo,” you managed, trying to keep your tone gentle, soothing. If she heard, you couldn’t tell – her attention only falling to the crook of your neck, then the dip of your shoulder. “I—I’m not really sure we should be doing this, and I really wish you wouldn’t touch me, and—”

“Quiet.” Just like that, your jaw went slack, that sugar sweet scent intensifying and dulling any coherent thought you might’ve had to a numb, blank static. A deep, rumbling sort of reverberation sparked in her through as she nuzzled into your chest, her body slotted against yours. While one of her hands remained on your cheek, another found the hem of your dress, toying with the fabric for a moment before moving her attention to your neckline, instead. The first tug was gentle, experimental, but her impatience must’ve won over her curiosity; the sound of tearing material filling your quiet bedroom as a single, pointed claw traced a jagged line from the base of your throat to your midriff, the ruined fabric falling away without resistance. “Useless,” she muttered, half-under her breath. “In the way.”

It was an awkward position, her back arched, her wings clasped tightly against one another, but she didn’t seem to mind – her lips trailing over your collarbone, then the curve of your breast. You shut your eyes, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel her tongue lapping shallowly over your nipple. Your hands balled around the sheets as her lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, more of whatever awful substance she produced dripping down your skin, pooling on the flat plain between your breast, spreading a terrible sort of heat to everything it touched. She rotated between sucking and laving, a hand coming up to knead at the unassulted side of your chest with just a touch too much force to be for the sake of your pleasure.

You didn’t want to feel anything. You didn’t want to react. You didn’t want to, and yet, you couldn’t seem to swallow back the low, cracked moans and hitched whimpers spilling past your lips. Leo’s purring grew louder, her spare set of hands finding your hips as they bucked pathetically against nothing. It was almost a relief when she pulled away, lifting her head. Through your eyelashes, you watched her eyes narrow, lips pursing. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought she looked disappointed.

You tried to call out again, to tell her to stop, but your voice remained despondent as Leo repositioned herself, slipping into the space between your open legs. What was left of your nightgown as done away with entirely, and with a hand wrapped around either of your thighs, she bowed her head, her tongue dragging over the length of your clothed slit. Instantly, her expression brightened, and for the first time, you were forced to acknowledge the slow, viscous heat slowly leaking out from between your thighs, forced to listen as she hummed in delight and tore through your panties, the silk as easily defeated as your nightgown had been. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as her tongue dragged over your now-exposed pussy, lapping up the slick staining the inside of your thighs. Her nose ground against your overly sensitive clit as she buried herself in your cunt, less focused on your pleasure and more dedicated to eating you alive – pointed teeth scraping against tender flesh as she ran the flat of her tongue over your entrance, refusing to let a single part of you go uncared for. Because she was caring for you, like a lover, like a nurse.

Like an owner.

You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek with enough force to draw blood. She was not a lover, or an owner, and she wasn’t taking care of you – nothing about this could be called caring. You tried to snap your thighs shut, to pull yourself up, but the blunt tip of her prolonged tongue dipped into your entrance and it was all you could do to scream – the noise tearing out of your throat as something pathetic and miserable. If Leo noticed your agony, she wasn’t in a place to care, too busy curling her tongue inside of you, grinding against the clenching walls of your cunt and abusing every spot that made you shake and moan and drip. It wasn’t hard to see what she was motivated by, what she was chasing after, but knowing why she was doing this didn’t make it any easier to endure. You’d never be able to look at her again, after this. You wouldn’t be able to let her stay with you, anymore. You’d have to make her leave.

That was, if you ever found a way to.

You managed to get an arm underneath you, but it didn’t matter. Her unoccupied pair of hands clamped down around your hips, your thighs forced onto her shoulders as she straightened her back and threatened to fold you in half, all-but devouring your cunt with a renewed gluttony. Fuck. Fuck. Her tongue was too fast, too flexible; twisting inside of you, filling you entirely. The pressure on your clit, while not deliberate, wasn’t helping, and it was only a matter of time until you could feel your legs twitching where they were propped on her shoulders, until your vocalizations turned form moans to whines to muttering – all ‘stop’ and ‘no, don’t’ and ‘not there’, hasty and incoherent and humiliating. You couldn’t stop yourself, though.

You were starting to think you’d never be able to do much of anything ever again.

She didn’t stop when you came. You doubted she even noticed; her purring only growing louder, the movement of her tongue taking on a more wild sort of pattern. No, she drew back after you’d gone limp underneath her, your voice dying until those little, keening nothings were the only noise you could make. Distantly, you could feel your body being lowered back onto your bed, Leo shifting above you, then two fingers swiping over your cunt. You felt something prodding against your lips, and too exhausted to resist, opened your mouth. “Good girl,” Leo cooed, her inflection mimicking that of someone talking down to something smaller, something lesser. The taste of your own slick mixed with her saliva flooded your senses, as vile as it was saccharine. “Sweet, and pretty, and good. My good girl.”

Her head dipped, her lips finding yourself. This kiss was softer than her first, tender rather than hungry, lingering rather than desperate. As she held you there, you felt something wrap around your throat – cold as ice and soft as velvet. When you found the will to open your eyes, you looked not towards Leo’s expression, her dazzling smile, but to her right hand and the beaded silver cord tangled around it.

You didn’t have to guess what the other end was connected to.

“All mine.”

[biglisbonnews]

"Einstein Tile" mystery solved: amateur mathematician discovers unique 13-sided "hat" Mathematicians have long wondered if there was an "einstein tile" – a tile that could be used only to make a non-repeating pattern on an infinite surface. An amateur mathematician named David Smith recently developed a 13-sided tile, nicknamed "the hat," that fits the bill. — Read the rest https://boingboing.net/2023/03/31/einstein-tile-mystery-solved-amateur-mathematician-discovers-unique-13-sided-hat.html

[vivalarevolution]

𝓘𝓽'𝓼 𝓞𝓴𝓪𝔂 𝓣𝓸 𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓶 𝓑𝓸𝓽𝓱

Jacaerys Velaryon x Targaryen Reader x Cregan Stark

Summary: War emerged from the shadows like an old friend, but apart from the war, there were also matters from the past that created new, unknown and dangerous affairs for her, so sinful and so forbidden. And this time she couldn't escape, getting trapped in between seahorse and a wolf.

A/N: A refreshed version of the story , that I really think is one of the better ones I've ever written. I hope you will like it , enjoy it and find it worth reading.

Please remember that english is not my native language, I do not use it on a daily basis, so mistakes can or will happen.

The work contains smut, so minors do not interact with it.

The north was cold, full of ice and snow, and the northern people were even colder. Their eyes gave the shivers, and the low and rough tone of voice made silence the only thing that escaped from the lips of strangers.

But he, Lord of Winterfell, though he seemed to be the same, was the opposite of it all.

Cregan Stark was a wolf in human skin. A man who could bend thousands with just a single glance of his gray irises. He was like fire itself, dangerous and burning under her fingers. He was vicious and wild, devouring her flesh every night, never being satisfied, always wanting more and more until there was nothing left to give.

-Cregan - she moaned into his neck, her nails creating patterns on his back that covered the old ones, not yet healed.

-Feels good, princess? - he purred into her ear, sucking on its lobe, only to kiss it after , feeling her soft skin become covered with goosebumps.

-Oh Cregan - she whimpered, unable to say anything else, repeating his name like a prayer.

The man grabbed her thighs in response, lifting her legs up, letting her ankles rest on his shoulders, gliding his lips over the flesh of her calves, moving his loins deeply and slowly, taking her breath away as she felt the head of his member kissing her cervix again and again ,mixing pain and pleasure together.

-It's so sweet...addictive when you say my name like a prayer - he murmured, lowering his face over hers, rubbing his lips against her full , soft and red, almost swollen ones - It only makes me want to devour you like a hungry wolf and make you mine forever.

-Yes, yes ... only yours - she whispered ,tangling her fingers in the man's brown hair, pulling them again and again, trying to touch his lips, even for a moment - Oh Cregan, please, please! - she moaned directly into his mouth, her lavender irises covered with a robe of crystal tears, threatening to flow out.

-How can I say no to you ,my little dragon? - Cregan asked, moving his hips so brutally and animalistic, contrasting with the controlled movements of his hands that pinned her to the bed, commanding her to take everything, not letting her escape - Take everything I give you, that's right, good girl - he growled like a hungry enraged wolf, making her fall apart before his eyes.

Woman felt as if something had crept into her veins and made her body a shell filled with lust and desire, nothing more. Her muscles went limp, almost non-existent, and her eyes closed embraced in a soothing darkness.

The man's hands were still moving, marking her skin with an electrifying sensation that made her open her eyes, to open her mouth and let his tongue out, to let the wolf prey.

-Cregan - she said quietly so that the only one who could've heard her was the man she mentioned - Kiss me, kiss me again.

Brunet bowed his head, brushing her soft, delicate lips with his, fulfilling her wish.

-You make me a hungry man. Never wanting to stop, never going to stop - he murmured, tasting her again and again, mixing their breaths together.

-No... don't say that - she moaned, feeling his hands on her sensitive breasts, trying to recapture the bit of consciousness that began to ebb away with each movement of his fingers and each kiss of his hot lips.

-That's the truth. I could never lie to you, I can only tell you the truth when I look at you - he panted, attacking her once flawless neck, which was now full of red marks and bites - You have bewitched me, my body and mind and I can't lie. No matter how much you want to hear a lie from my lips.

You have bewitched me. My body and mind.

Those words, she's heard those words before. They echoed in her head, only to sink to the bottom of her stomach, creating a knot so unbearable and painful that she wanted to scream and cry in pain.

-We are enemies...out there, we are enemies to each other - she remarked listlessly, focusing her violet eyes on the snowy window.

-Yet here we're lovers. In my arms you are my beloved, not my enemy - he replied directly to her ear, tenderly kissing the left side of her face.

-When I return to King's Landing and announce the decision of Lord of Winterfell...you will become ... only an enemy - she confessed, after a moment leveling her eyes with him.

Cregan stared intently into her pupils, black as the abyss, drawing him in.

-You are the bane of my existence. And the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you - the man announced and the woman knew every word was sincere, every blink of his grey eyes ,every breath taken during his confession - So when you come back I'll be on the other side fighting to tear you away from the clutches you were born into but didn't want to live. You will be my lover my princess, never my enemy.

Days later, their conversation seemed non-existent. However, in truth, she was forgotten and hidden deep in the darkness by a woman who did not want to remember it, preferring to live in the bliss of unconsciousness. But life was cruel and was not about to let Y/n Targaryen rest, stabbing the princess's heart with long thorns of memories that flooded her like a flood as her eyes saw a familiar figure and heard a voice she once adored.

-I came here as a messenger, not a warrior - he announced and the woman didn't even know who these words were addressed to, for what purpose they were uttered but she didn't care, all she wanted to know was whether it was an illusion.

Prince Jacaerys Velaryon.

It seemed to her that he was standing so close to her, even though in truth he was so far away, but his brown eyes still spotted her in the darkness that surrounded her, no matter how much she tried to hide in it , no matter how she was trying to escape him. He caught her anyway ,right under the noses of the old gods.

-Let go of me - she said as his arms wrapped around her, trapping her inside of them.

-What are you doing here Y/n? Why are you here? - he asked, looking at her, his hands tightening on her body as soon as she moved harder than before.

-I'm delivering a message from my brother. Just as you doing with the message from your mother, my sister - she confessed, looking at him.

Jacaerys released her as if her words were burning, but he didn't let her go. Caging her in the form of his eyesight and body that blocked out everything but him, forcing her to focus only on the young man before her.

-Why? - he asked calmly, sounding almost hurt.

-Why? - she repeated his question, not understanding the meaning of his words, not when they were both now standing on opposite sides of the barricade as enemies - We are at war Jacaerys. There is too late to ask questions , too late to think what if.

They both fell quiet abruptly, letting the silence creep in between them, devouring them from the inside out , and none of them said anything, only staring into the eyes of the other.

-I know this war is real but I don't want to believe that in this war you chose your brother... instead of me - he confessed surprisingly quietly, surprisingly coldly.

-What was between us... it was just an illusion we lived in - Y/n replied, feeling the lump in her throat grow as her heart throbs with pain and her veins flood with anger.

-We decided to love each other - said the brunette, getting closer to the girl, more and more - It was a choice, our choice - he whispered, running his fingers along her cheekbone.

-But it was your choice to make me a woman you could love in the dark but never in the light of day. You've made promises to me before, and like a fool, I believed them. I won't be your fool again - she said firmly, pushing his hand away from her face.

-It was never my intention - he confessed quietly, trying to match her gaze, but she ran away every time - I wanted you, only you.

The white-haired woman shook her head, not believing any of his words and not wanting to listen further.

-Yet you swore to marry Baela. In front of my eyes you chose her over me - Y/n gritted her teeth, voice as cold as ice - Where was your love then, where is it now? There's a woman waiting for you, a woman who have feelings for you, and you're chasing the one you can't have.

Instead of answering, Jacaerys unexpectedly pinned her to a tree behind them, his body clinging to her like a puzzle piece, and his own hands wrapped around the hers.

-I'll always choose you - he announced, inches from her face, rubbing the tip of his nose against hers.

-Don't say that - she whispered, finally leveling her gaze with him - Don't say that. Don't say that, becasue I didn't ask for it. I didn't ask to be plagued by these feelings.

Y/n felt her heart being torn in half, allowing the memories to creep in. But then she remembered the gray irises that soothed her soul, gave her the longed-for oblivion, the hands that protected her and the voice that put her to sleep in the middle of the night.

And yet, she was no longer able to keep everything Jacaerys had once been to her, who he still was - a lover, a rock, a soulmate.

So she let it all in, let the pain tear her from inside, making her throat burn from how much she was forcing herself not to cry, and her eyes glazed almost like glass.

Brunet wanted to touch her, comfort her, but he let her escape from his embrace, letting her disappear into the depths of Godswood. Unaware that Lord Winterfell had been watching their close interaction, revealing a secret he was never meant to discover.

The night came quickly, and in the night came coldness that attacked every bone in her body. But the truth was that it wasn't the cold that was causing it but the feelings that hadn't left her for hours, taunting her.

Her lavender-colored eyes stared at the wildly dancing flames that warmed her face, giving it an orange glow, while one hand lazily glided between the fires until the door to her chamber swung open, causing her to be plucked from the ocean of thoughts, returning to the surface ,to the reality.

Cregan watched her like a wild wolf, wild as well as great, towering over the passage, blocking her only escape route.

With a look that said he knew. He knew something.

-The past can be painful - she said, her face was emotionless, but her eyes hid all the secrets that were in her - Love comes and goes like a gust of wind or a wave on the sea. I believe you know it, you loved and you lost... - she noticed reminding him of the woman who once held his heart, now she was its owner.

-We both loved and lost - he said, approaching her agonizingly slowly - And we both found love where we didn't want to look, in the arms of another - he added, kneeling in front of her, cupping her chin with his hand, stroking the smooth skin of her face with his thumb - But you my dragon , you have the opportunity to regain something that was once taken from you. I will never have that opportunity.

She wished meaning behind his words was unknown to her, but when her eyes saw Jacaerys standing by the door, hidden in the shadows just like she had been so long ago, looking at her as intensely, as passionately as he had during their affair, she knew her secret ceased to be a secret and became the truth that came to light.

-What if I don't want to? - she asked, looking straight at her nephew, wanting to see how he would react to her words - What if choosing the past makes me lose you? - she remarked more quietly, shifting her violet eyes to Lord of Winterfell.

Cregan looked at the younger brunet but it was only a moment, as if there was no need to talk between them, as if everything that was happening was planned.

-I saw your pain. I don't want to see it ever again - he announced, stroking the skin on her cheek, but her eyes still expressed uncertainty, hesitation - It's okay to love something you can't explain, it's okay to love us both princess.

-Just say the word - Jacaerys whispered right into her ear, and she turned her face towards him to almost meet his full lips in a kiss, surprised that he was right behind her ,without her knowing.

Y/n felt like she couldn't breathe, like something had crushed her lungs, preventing her from taking a breath, but as soon as she let out the first words, everything let go, the ropes were cut and the walls fell down.

-Never leave me again - she said to the boy before connecting their lips in a deep, longing kiss, tangling her slender fingers in his thick, dark curls.

She could feel the closeness of Cregan on her spine as he slid the white fabric of her nightgown off her shoulders, brushing her hair from her neck to kiss the skin in the hollow of it. His mouth was hot and possessive, completely different from Jacaerys's soft ones.

The northerner's hand slid down her body, engulfing her womanhood hidden behind the thin material of her underwear, making her whimper into her second lover's mouth as Cregan's rough fingers slid between her legs.

Y/n tried to focus on her breathing as two pairs of hands freed her from her clothes, soon to be kneeling naked between them, feeling vulnerable as their gaze devoured her.

-So wet - Lord of Winterfell muttered, playing with her puffy folds, coating his fingers in the juices that spilled from inside of her.

-So sweet , just for us - Jace said, sliding his hand down her neck, resting his lips on her jaw, planting sensual kisses there.

-Just for you ,both of you - she whispered, feeling herself falling into a state of blissful erotic drunkenness.

-You'll gonna feel us for weeks in your little pussy - Cregan added, slipping his finger into her center , rubbing against her bum.

The younger man kissed her again, his hand still on her neck, squeezing it every time she took a breath into her lungs, while the northerner continued to assault flower of her womanhood, making her leak on her inner thighs. Her abdomen burned with lust.

-You'll be good to us, won't you? - Jacaerys panted heavily into her mouth.

Girl nodded, no longer able to find her voice. Her toes curled from how close she was , how close she was to be pushed over the edge, but just as she was about to fall, all movements stopped.

-You won't cum until we say - Cregan said with a trace of malice in his voice, licking her juices from his fingers - You've been hiding your affairs form both of us. You deserve a punishment.

Both men stood up as she sat on her knees, naked before their eyes, letting them savor the sight of her fair skin.

Her attention was focused on Cregan while Rhaenyra's son was busy with his pants.

Her hand slid up and down his erection, squeezing him here and there , while her thumb stroked the vein on the side of his thick member and  the head, smearing his precum to use as lubricant.

-Aren't you forgetting something little dragon? - Lord of Winterfell asked with a low growl, forcing her to turn to Jacaerys. His manhood, erected, pointed directly at her red lips, waiting. Its top shone with a transparent substance and Y/n leaned closer to lick it while her small hand continued to run along Cregan's shaft.

Taking Jace into her mouth, she pressed her tongue against his member as he slid down her throat. His long fingers tangled between her white curls, pulling at the roots just enough to make her whimper softly, and the vibrations traveled through his shaft to his spine, causing his head to drop with a groan.

-Just like that, good girl - Cregan murmured, her stomach jumping at his words and her chest spread with warmth.

Her thumb traced slow, enticing circles around the northern man's head before she slipped the other lover's member out of her mouth, focusing now on the wolf, kissing the tip of his manhood and licking it from the base. She felt his body twitch under her fingers as she swallowed him, running her hand over the part she couldn't reach.

-You're doing so well my love - Jacaerys praised her, pressing her head into Cregan's member until she choked.

When the young woman felt she was no longer controlled by the hand on her head, she pulled away from both men, taking in air into her lungs, panting breathlessly.

-Come on princess, let the wolf get a taste - the older brunette said, reaching out to pull her up and then kiss her as she stood in front of them.

The kiss was messy, wild, making her cheeks covered in saliva and precum.

-On the bed - Jace broke the kiss abruptly, grabbing the nape of her neck to make her look at him, slapping her left asscheek and striking it again as he felt her soft body tremble at his touch.

-Spread your legs, little dragon - Cregan said, standing beside the prince while she lay down on the furs in front of them - Show us what is ours.

Y/n propped her legs up on the bed, opening herself up.

-Play with yourself - sounded the next command and the girl didn't even know who said it, being clouded with desire.

A finger glided up and down her wet and swollen folds with ease, and her body quickly began to tremble as she ran it over her clit, circling the sensitive nub.

-Put those pretty fingers inside your pussy - came the next words, in a low and menacing tone that sounded almost animal-like.

Moving her hand down to her center, she did as she was told. Her hips met the movements of her hand as she moved, trying to find her sweet spot, meowing miserably every time when she failed.

-Faster - Cregan said - Come on, show us how pretty you look when you cum.

Playing with her like this, telling her what to do with her burning womanhood made her cum with tears in her eyes, and a feeling of her legs shake intensely. And before her senses could have return to her, Jacaerys laid down next to her, pulling Y/n against his warm, muscular body for her to wrap her legs around his waist in response, pressing her breasts against his chest as his big member rubbed against her puffy clitoris.

-I need to feel you around me - he murmured, grabbing her hips, rubbing her against his manhood, watching her release drip onto his shaft.

At the thought, the young woman could feel her walls tightening and her heart involuntarily jumping into her throat. And when he entered her, stretching her walls that he almost tearing her apart, it made her moan loudly, burying her face in his neck.

Cregan, however, gave her no time to adjust to her other lover, unable to help himself as her femininity struggled to take the prince all inside her, leaving a ring of white ,creamy substance behind.

Y/n felt the bed sink behind her, and soon the northernman's member entered her wet ,tight canal, leaving her breathless. Mixing pleasure with pain.

-You're doing so well , my good girl - said Lord of Winterfell, kissing her bare shoulder blades, covering them with bites and red marks - You taking us both so good ,aren't you? Your sweet pussy was made for us - his voice, though low and dangerous, trembled here and there as her walls tightened around the two members.

Her face was wet with tears and saliva as they mercilessly pounded her cervix. Their hands were all over her body, holding her in place as they feasted on her body, and all she could do was moan and mewl, taking everything they were giving her.

-She's so drunk on the feeling - Jacaerys said, watching her expression , when his lips weren't attacking her skin.

-It's so easy to break our little dragon - the older brunette added, pushing his hips out, grabbing her bum - But she looks so beautiful when she's broken, making me never want to stop.

Woman felt her body flooded with a wave of hot flames, which made her walls tighten, stopping their movements almost completely, making both of them, unable to stop themselves, and cumming deep inside her, filling her to the full, while a pleasant familiar warmth flooded her lower body, flowing from her after a while, which made her tremble, falling helplessly onto Jacaerys' torso.

The smell of sex filled the air like an intoxicant that possessed their minds that were already clouded with lust.

And so the seahorse and the wolf feasted on the white-haired dragon. Over and over and again , never wanting to stop.

[galahadwilder]

A Theory About the Doctor’s Species of Origin

So usually in NuWho, whenever anyone asks if they have a name other than “The Doctor” or “Doctor,” the Doctor replies something along the lines of “nope, just the Doctor.” However, Fifteen has broken that pattern: when Ruby asked him about that, he responded that “the species that took me in uses titles like [rattles off a bunch]. Use ‘The Doctor’ for a thousand years and that becomes your name.”

The thing about RTD’s writing is that you can sometimes tell when something has extra emphasis, like the thing about the Bees in Donna’s season. And the Doctor repeats this bit of information twice, once completely devoid of context, making absolutely certain that you understand that “Time Lords use titles.”

Who else uses titles? Specifically, who in this season is big on titles?

Well, the Pantheon.

The Toymaker. The Maestro.

Hell, in Classic Who, the Toymaker was originally supposed to be part of the Doctor’s as-yet-unnamed species before Michael Gough died and became unable to reprise the role. The Maestro even gives the Doctor another title! “The Lord Temporal.”

The Toymaker uses doors to step from one end of history to another. The Maestro uses pianos. In both cases, they’re bigger on the inside—doors to extradimensional spaces. What if it wasn’t just Regeneration the Time Lords engineered from the Timeless Child—what if it was all of their tech? What if that’s why nobody can reproduce TARDISes properly—it’s not science, it’s play?

Last bit of evidence: the Maestro is aware of the background music and the fourth wall. They open the episode by playing the Doctor Who theme, intentionally triggering the opening credits. The Doctor is the only other character so far who’s proven to be aware of the fourth wall (the Beethoven’s Fifth rant in Before the Flood, for example), to the point that he even mentions during The Devil’s Chord that he thought the background music was non-diegetic—as in, he can hear the background music. He knows he’s in a show.

The Doctor, the Lord Temporal, might very well be one of the Pantheon.

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐠𝐨 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨? || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when medical supplies run out in Jackson, you volunteer to go to the mall as an alibi to get goodies for your family, only that your husband Joel isn’t pleased with your decision.

warnings_ age gap! (20s/ 50s) but not specifically stated so do what u want, protective! Joel, chill mother! reader, fluff, implied sex, smidge of angst, fallacy references. NO PROOFREAD

notes_ fallacy family is back, I missed them so much, I just re-edited the whole story, recommend reading it again although is not necessary for this fic.

✰ 𝙄𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙓 (𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚)

♪ ♫ 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙋𝙚𝙙𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀

• 「 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐞, 𝐈 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 」 

𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ 𓆸⋆｡𖦹°⭒

1. Wash hands and prepare the wound. ... 

2. Use your needle driver to grab the needle. ... 

3. Use the tissue forceps to expose the side of the wound you'll begin the suture on. ... 

4. Push the needle through the skin at a 90-degree angle about a centimeter to the right of the wound.

You read out loud with perfect grammatical rules, leaving perfect timing between commas and periods. It’s been a year and a half since you started teaching and a new cycle had begun by late summer. 

“Now follow the pattern I just demonstrated and I’ll pass around to see your progress” you softly indicated with a smile to your students. 

Everyone was great, you held back a new smile when you passed by Ellie’s table. She smirks at you in disguise and you give her a thumbs up to cheer her up.

Mrs. Miller is so hot, you’re so lucky to live with her….

You want to laugh so hard after hearing Ellie’s friends failing to whisper those words. 

Everyone knew you were married to the mighty Joel Miller. The town knew you were Tommy and Maria’s sister-in-law. They knew you were a great nurse and teacher. And they loved it when they heard Mrs. Miller would organize the holiday events of Jackson. 

“Okay, guys. You did great. Tomorrow we’ll keep the practice of sewing and cleaning superficial wounds. Now get out of here” They happily started leaving one by one saying goodbye to you. 

Ellie seemed to be arguing with his friend. She continuously rolled her eyes and sighed until the boy smiled at you and left. So you raised an eyebrow towards the girl and she stood up finally.

“Are you coming back home with me or are you gonna go play with your friend?” 

“Jesse is not my friend and of course, I’m going home with you. Rosalie and Rae are still coming for dinner, right?” You nod at her, giggling because of her attitude.

“You should take Jesse as your friend. He is a nice boy” Ellie only rolled her eyes once again.

“He’s annoying as well as his other friend named Dina. They are awkward and they are not as funny as Rosalie, Cerise, Joel, and you” she admits closing her backpack.

“Aww, Ellie! That’s so sweet of you…”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah… But let’s go, your baby must be very fussy” 

Damn, she’s right. Your little baby was a bolter, Cerise Miller was eleven months old. She had started trying to waddle and she often repeated vague words. Usually courtesy of her father; Joel loved his little angel and always talked to her.

You would never get tired of going straight to your little family after a long day.

“Would you like non-flour biscuits and steak for dinner?” Ellie nodded smiling but then frowned.

“You know I’d love to but… our rations for the week won’t be enough… Oh, and don’t you dare to ask Maria and Tommy for more, that would be very embarrassing” she said as you could only be laughing at her.

“You wouldn’t mind if I asked them, you don’t want me to do it because that would give you less right to be mean to them” 

“Maybe…” 

After closing the classroom, you and Ellie exit the little building that served as a school. It was the middle of the week and summer remained peaking as autumn was around the corner.

“Hey… Can I ask you a question?” Ellie nodded at you.

“Sure…”

“Do your classmates think that we are like… mother and daughter?” You asked with a shy tone. 

The streets were kind of busy as you and the fifteen-year-old girl started your way towards home.

“Nah… they know were like… friends or sisters? Besides… everyone knows you’re very chill” she admitted.

“I ain’t a chill person. I’m fair… that’s it”

“You’re chill, y/n. With your students, with your friends, with me, with your daughter, and even with Joel. And that drives him crazy” You smiled at the thought of your handsome husband.

A couple of weeks ago, the man came and decided to celebrate your first wedding anniversary by taking you to the same strawberry field where Cerise was born. It was romantic, then Maria arranged a little dinner for you two while she and Tommy took Cerise and Ellie for the night. That night Joel fucked you so damn good that you had to be very careful the following weeks, thinking you were pregnant once again. False alarm.

“But you shouldn’t be very chill with the other kids in class,” Ellie said.

“Why?”

“The boys are always drooling for you, especially the older ones. They keep saying you are a MILF” your eyes were wide open after she said that.

“Oh.”

“You know what that means”

“I sure do,” you said avoiding her gaze as you crossed another street.

“Can you tell me what it means?”

You’re a chill teacher, friend, mother, and wife. So you nodded at her.

“I can tell you, but I don’t to hear you saying it”

“Sure, man. I promise” Ellie sweared.

“It stands for Mom I’d Like To Fuck…” Ellie blushed immediately, making you laugh embarrassed as well.

“I told you so…” you said, finally arriving home.

You open the door of the house and the first thing you notice is Maria and Tommy’s kid there. He smiles and you lock the door before kneeling to greet him.

“Hello, kid. How are you? Have you been taking care of my angel?” You questioned the two-year-old boy with a kiss on his cheek. He could only coo and giggle.

“My little man has been a gentleman with Cerise since we arrived” Maria appeared with your daughter in her arms. She immediately asked to be in your arms and started squirming.

“Hi, little heart” you greeted her, kissing her hair that smelled like plums and sugar like her shampoo. She had the same soft hair and kind eyes as Joel. Something that always made you smile.

“What’s up, Cerise?” Ellie greeted your daughter, taking off her shoes and hanging her backpack near the entrance of the house.

“Okay, little man and I need to leave. We promised Tommy to have a movie night and they are almost back from patrol. Must get going…” Maria announced giving a quick hug and a squeeze on the hand of Cerise before saying one last goodbye and leaving with her kid.

“Hey, y/n. You never said how you got more meat for dinner?” You smirk to yourself, placing Cerise in her baby walker. It was old as hell, probably from the nineties. Joel had said it looked very similar to the baby walker Sarah had. 

“Let’s say Star and I went to have a little hunting trip” you revealed, entering the kitchen and being followed by Cerise.

“If Joel finds out, you’re dead” 

“I’m the chill wife. What can I say?” Both of you started laughing. 

“Just be careful, y/n. Please…” Ellie said, so you reassured her by squeezing her shoulder.

“Always, Ellie. For my family, always…” 

“Sudden change of subject but you know what would be awesome? A new lunchbox…” you turned to look at her backpack. It was the same backpack that traveled from the Boston QZ to Jackson. The lunch you made for her usually was a mess after a couple of hours.

“I’ll see what I can do to get you a new one. I also need new clothes for Cerise, farting isn’t enough to deflate her, she keeps growing” Ellie started laughing.

“Mind you, she’s your daughter, y/n”

“So? She’s my little heart but she’s still a stinky furball at times” you said kneeling to kiss and annoy Cerise, who cooed and screamed in happiness.

-

When Joel arrived home the sun had almost disappeared completely. He opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Ellie and you chasing Cerise, who was still on her baby walker, cooing loudly. 

A big smile was planted on his face.

“Joel… Is that you, honey?” You asked, sounding agitated.

“Yes, dear.” You appear in his line of vision, wearing a pink sundress and bare feet.

He greets you in his arms, giving you a big kiss.

“Mmm… I missed you” you admitted.

“We made love this morning, y/n”

“So? We can be apart half an hour and I’ll miss you like I haven’t seen you in a year” he chuckled, kissing you once again. Only to be interrupted by something colliding at his feet.

Both of you look down, encountering Cerise, who has a toothy smile.

“Da-da… dad!” Joel immediately picked her up. Ellie came to the scene too, drinking from a glass of water and spreading some hair away from her face, only to greet Joel and then disappear upstairs.

“Hello, angel” It was a rare day when Joel didn't wake up questioning if he wasn’t dreaming. Even a year after coming back from Salt Lake City with Ellie and you, he couldn’t believe his new life. Where he lived near Tommy, he was married again, now working, unlike the first time. His wife was a young woman and gave him a daughter. 

“Rosalie and Rae got caught up with work so they won’t join us for dinner. But they’re coming tomorrow with Tommy and Maria” Your husband nodded at you, playing with Cerise as she fought to grab Joel’s beard, which tickled her but couldn’t stop doing so.

“Oh, that’s terrible” his sarcastic tone was evident, which made you smile.

“What? Darlin’ you know I only want to be with my girls” Before he could hug you from behind, he placed Cerise on the carpet of the living room.

“Go take a shower and tell Ellie to come down, Texas” Your playful smile resulted contagious to him, so he got closer to kiss your cheek and spank your ass before leaving upstairs too.

-

Just by the time your family and you finished dinner, Cerise was already upstairs sleeping with Ellie. You and Joel were cleaning up the dishes as you listened to an old cassette player and said bad jokes.

Suddenly, someone knocked on the door and both of you exchanged looks.

“I’ll take it…” you said.

When you open the door, you see Rosalie standing.

“Rosalie… What happened?” 

“We need you in the clinic. One of the technicians had an accident and needs a little surgery” you gasped, feeling Joel coming to the door to slide a hand in your waist as he heard Rosalie.

“That’s why the power went out for some seconds?” Joel asked and Rosalie nodded.

“Yup… please, y/n” you nodded.

“Let me get my hoodie. Joel, Can you stay and check on the girls?” 

“Sure, go on, darlin’…” 

After another big kiss, you hurry along with Rosalie to get to the clinic.

-

“He is going to be fine, just one broken finger. There’s just one problem, we don’t have any cast…” Maria and one of the council members sigh, looking at each other. Jeremy was a thirty-four-year-old male technician who fell while trying to fix some wires. He had a little concussion and you stitched two of his fingers that were slightly burnt. His broken finger was the issue until you remembered the mall near Jackson. 

“Maybe we have some materials to improvise a cast…”

“Or I can make a quick trip to the mall and get some supplies.” 

“Maybe it’s not the best idea, y/n…”

“You know it’s mostly clear, perhaps one or two infected but it’s okay. Besides… I’ve proven to be trustworthy to go…” you had done some patrols along with Tommy and Joel, and they didn’t have any complaints about you. 

“I guess not… Have you been inside the mall before?” 

“Yes…” you lied.

The truth is you wanted to go alone to take your time. You had gone to the little abandoned market before, but the mall was different. While your priority was the medical supplies, you also had other interests. You wanted to get Ellie a new lunchbox, clothing for Cerise, and some flannels for Joel.

“Alright. Joel is going with you” Maria said and you nodded but maybe you wouldn’t let him know. He’d lock you before letting you go to the mall alone.

“Hey… Is it too late for a haircut?” You asked her.

“Nah… let’s go.”

-

The following morning, you leave a note for Ellie telling her the truth. And for Joel, a note that said you were going back to the clinic and then to school, that he take care of Cerise, and that you loved him so much.

After a quick breakfast, you ended up at the stables, saddling up Star.

“Goin’ somewhere, darlin’…?” Startled you don’t dare to turn back, but you know it’s your husband.

Shit, he’s gonna fuck me… and not like I’d want to.

“Oh hi, honey”

“Don’t bullshit me with that. Were you planning on tellin’ me you’re going to the mall alone?”

“You would’ve said no and we would’ve argued…”

“I’m coming with you. Now quit talkin’ 'cause I’m not very happy with you right now” he said, going for his horse.

Once you are ready to go, Joel finally faces you.

“You changed your hair…” you looked different, still gorgeous to his eyes.

“Yeah... Maria helped me out yesterday after the clinic incident. You like it?…”

“I love it, baby.” He had you blushing like a teenager and you hadn’t even left Jackson yet.

“Thanks, Joel” he smiled, knowing he couldn’t be mad at you any longer.

“Oh what the hell, come ‘ere, gorgeous.” You get close and he leans to passionately kiss you.

“I have the hottest wife, you know?” Pushing him gently, you start going back towards Star, avoiding his eyes with a giant smile.

“And I have the hottest husband, you know?” 

“Deaf with a demolished back but I’m your old man,” he said, hugging you from behind, letting you he was half hard while feeling his cock against your ass.

“You got hard with my new haircut?”

“Course’ I would, darlin’. Can’t wait to see those little bangs against your forehead when I get you riding me” You sure reached a new level of embarrassment at that moment. And you thanked the stables were clear of humans.

“OKAY-… where did you leave my daughter, Texas?”

“Our daughter is with Tommy, California Dreamin’…”

“Good. Let’s go then…” you said smiling, finally leaving the town.

-

The mall was definitely not what you expected.

“So people used to come here to eat, shop, and just hang out in general?” Joel nodded, cautiously holding a flashlight with one hand and his rifle with the other.

“That’s right, love” 

“This reminds me of the library you took me back in Boston” Joel sighed.

He remembered the man he was back then. Still grieving his past, being cold and mean towards the woman he saved. You were a broken and weak woman. And yet, you always smiled at him.

Your birthday was coming and Joel was tired of your intellectual talks, so he took you to pick some books. Now he understands he did that because deep down he already loved you back then.

He could also see you had bloomed into a new woman, and he couldn��t help but feel like he had fallen in love again. 

“I was an asshole towards you.” He admitted walking through the mall.

“You were. But neither of us gave up on each other. And look at us now….” you optimistically said.

“We have a house, we have jobs, two kids and we’re having a date in a scary abandoned mall” Joel chuckled.

“This ain’t a date, baby”

“It is, shut up, Joel,” you said.

Since the priority was the medical supplies, that’s where you headed first. Then, you dragged Joel to get Ellie’s lunchbox, the only one available was one of Wonder Woman so you took it. Then, thankfully, you found a baby store.

“Oh my god! Look at these, Joel! She’s gonna look so fucking adorable!” You said showing him a pair of cowgirl boots.

“She could match you. Since you really love your boots, baby” Joel teased, crossing his arms, allowing himself to relax just a tiny bit. He knew you loved your brown boots, you wore them the whole year. With jeans, skirts, dresses, everything.

“Okay, just the boots and this adorable set of seasonal pajamas” One set was purple with orange and corn candies for Halloween, the other had pumpkins and pies, the other one of hearts, and a last one of snowflakes, cookies, and Christmas trees.

“Have you seen how Cerise is starting to bite everything?” 

“Her teeth must be coming soon…” Joel confirmed, taking your hand to lead you out of the store.

Besides the baby store, there was a place full of underwear, perfumes, and feminine stuff.

“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”

“Lingerie and womanly stuff store” you nod, getting a closer look. Some pretty sets had you imagining modeling them for your husband.

“And what was her secret?”

“Oh c’mon, baby, let’s keep going.” He said gently pushing you.

“Wait. Don’t you want to fuck me in one of those sets?” Joel blushed and acted like he was debating whether to agree with you or not. But both of you knew the real answer.

“Your silence says it all, Joel.” And with that, you entered the store.

It was completely stocked and seemed like nobody had come in hopes of scavenging something.

“This is so pretty…” you say grabbing a black bra. Joel could only follow you like a lost puppy.

“Joel… pink or purple?” He looked at the two options and pointed at one.

“Pink…” 

“Naughty boy…” you said smirking and he rolled his eyes.

“I like this one…” Joel showed you, it was a seen-through tulle nightgown in maroon and lilac tones.

“Then we’re taking it home with us too” You finally start packing all of your favorite ones and you notice there's still some available space in your backpack.

You load your gun before nodding at Joel, letting him know you are ready.

“Where is your bow?” He asked.

“Left it at home…” you had gotten very good using the bow and arrows and with Joel teaching you how to skin animals, you often went on solo hunts. Not that he knew that.

Suddenly both of you grow quiet after hearing something shatter and then crashing nearby.

Joel indicated you to keep quiet while peaking through the entrance of the store.

A clicker passed by and you had to hold a big scream by covering your mouth. Since those things were blind, you were safe for a moment.

“Stay behind me…when I tell you to run… we run, y/n. Understood?” He whispered inches away from you.

“Joel… “ you whispered back when you saw the clicker entering the store. He protectively stood in front of you and pointed at the infected in case of anything. You also gripped the trigger of your weapon.

The disgusting sound of click click click was driving you insane. But you and Joel were so close to the exit that neither of you noticed the frame of a poster on the floor, so when Joel tripped over, the clicker immediately reacted, jumping towards the sound, and ending on top of Joel.

“JOEL!” 

One bad aim and you could kill Joel, so you have to act quick and smartly. The clicker moved extremely fast while your husband tried to push him away. 

“Run, y/n!” you wouldn’t leave your husband alone. Never… 

With zero patience and lots of faith, you shot twice, and to your luck, both bullets went straight to the clicker’s head. The dead body of the creature was lying beside your husband. So you ran to help him.

“Are you okay? No bites, right?” Joel hurried to calm you, leading you outside of the store, finally.

“No bites, baby. I’m okay” You nodded, sighing in relief.

“Let’s get the fuck out of here” you added, hearing the distant sounds of more clickers approaching, probably from the second floor that was actually below where you had been collecting stuff.

-

The way back home is slightly quieter. Joel knows you were still a little taken aback by the incident back at the mall. So as the two of you were still riding your horses, he turned to see you.

He adored his wife so much.

“You were amazin’ back there, baby” 

“What?”

“Yeah, the way you perfectly pulled the trigger and killed the clicker. Your hand never shakin’…” you smiled briefly.

“I just wished you were… immune too. It would be a little less stressful” Joel sighed.

“Hey, I’m not immune but I’m perfectly capable of coming back to you. I’ve done this for more than twenty years. And for you and the girls… I’d do it forever” 

“Aww, honey. I love you so much!” 

He is in love. He can’t recognize the woman you have become. You are stronger, funnier, and more vivid if that was even possible. And he knows you can’t recognize the man he transformed into. A man who treated you with adoration. Who wasn’t afraid of showing how much he loved you. 

“You know? You were my savior once but now… you are the reason why I will save myself every time. To come back to you and the girls too…” 

“I love you too, y/n. So fucking much, baby”

“I know…” you said cheekily, smiling at him.

It was then that a sudden memory came to you, making you giggle.

“Hey Joel… Want to know what Ellie’s classmates call me?” Joel frowns confused but then nods.

“Sure?…”

“They say I’m a MILF” Joel couldn’t help but laugh hard, on the verge of tears.

“Well, you are, darlin’… But that’s a pleasure I will be the only one to have” you blushed.

“Of course, I would not risk my life at Victoria’s Secret for any other man than you, Joel” he remembered the sets you got and he could feel himself getting hard again.

“Fuck… I miss Cerise and Ellie but I really want to get back to having you in bed with all those sets you borrowed” 

“Fine, but you clean the dishes and kitchen today” he nods, smiling cockily at you.

“Sure, now let’s get going, Mom I’d like to fuck…”

“JOEL!” He loved teasing you and seeing you get all flustered. 

______________________________________

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

I thought something about Marcus Acacius. He throws a party as a king where he calls some servants from the palace to dance for him, 4 girls, one of whom is the lucky one. The girl drives Marcus crazy with her movements and her gaze. And at the end of the dance when she collapses at his feet he gives her a handkerchief meaning she is called to have fun together in the bedroom. Before all that, for context, said servant is seen by Marcus in his room cleaning it, she being very shy and fragile in front of him. Since then, there has been an attraction between the two. pleaseeeeee😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

𝓟𝓞𝓦𝓔𝓡

⤷ Credits: Pinterest

Marcus Acacius x Maid!F!reader | WC : 4.8k | Proof read : NO | Navigation | Notifications | asks : OPEN

Summary: The moment Marcus saw you, he knew you had to be his.

Warnings: DUB-CON/NON-CON (Exploitation) SMUT, unprotected pinv (wrap it before you tap it), Implied age gap, Slight Voyeurism, Spitting, misogyny, cream pie, Oral

A/n: Okay, so I might make this a series. You'll see why ;)

The grand chamber of Marcus’s quarters stood in hushed elegance, the soft rustle of fabric and faint sounds of cleaning the only disturbances. You worked alongside Zera, the other maid, the sunlight filtering through ornate windows casting intricate patterns on the polished wooden floor. The scent of fresh linens mingled with the lingering hint of Marcus’s cologne, an omnipresent reminder of the man you served.

As you meticulously dusted the shelves, each deliberate movement betraying your nerves, you couldn't shake the unease. This was your first time in Marcus’s private quarters, and the stories you had heard about him made your hands tremble ever so slightly. Zera noticed your apprehension and gave you a reassuring smile, her experienced hands moving deftly over the surfaces, silently guiding you through the task.

Just as you smoothed the last crease on the bedspread, a sound behind you made your heart skip a beat—a throat clearing. You froze, breath caught in your throat. Slowly, you turned to face the source.

Marcus stood in the doorway, his presence commanding and intimidating. Tall, with a chiseled jawline and piercing eyes that seemed to see right through you, his dark hair impeccably styled, he exuded an air of authority that made your pulse quicken.

"Good afternoon, ladies," he said, his voice smooth and authoritative. Zera immediately curtsied, and you followed suit, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Good afternoon, sir," you both murmured in unison.

He stepped further into the room, his gaze sweeping over the immaculate space. "I see you've been thorough," he remarked, a hint of approval in his tone. You dared a glance up and saw him looking directly at you. "What's your name?" he asked, his eyes holding yours captive.

"I-I'm..." you stammered, feeling incredibly small under his intense scrutiny. You gave him your name.

He repeated it, as if savoring the sound. "And what do you do here?"

"I'm a maid, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I help with cleaning and maintaining the household."

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Good," he said. "I appreciate diligence and dedication. Keep up the good work."

You nodded, feeling a strange mix of relief and disappointment as he turned his attention to Zera, giving her a few more instructions. But then, unexpectedly, his gaze returned to you. "I have a feeling I'll be seeing more of you," he said, his voice low and enigmatic.

Marcus then looked back to Zera. "Zera, how long has she been with us?" he asked, nodding in your direction.

Zera straightened up, her expression respectful but relaxed. "She's been with us for a few months now, sir. She's a quick learner and very diligent."

"I see," Marcus replied, his eyes flicking back to you. There was something in his gaze that made your pulse quicken—a mixture of curiosity and something more that you couldn't quite place.

He turned his full attention to you again. "There’s a gathering this evening," he said. "A small party. I hope to see you there."

Your heart skipped a beat. "Me, sir?" you asked, hardly believing what you had just heard.

"Yes, you," he confirmed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "I'd like to get to know all the members of my household better."

Before you could muster a response, Marcus nodded once more, then turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there, still processing the encounter, the electricity of his presence lingering in the air. Zera nudged you gently, a knowing smile on her face. "Looks like you've made an impression," she said softly.

Zera led you out into the corridor where two other maids, Lara and Anya, were waiting. They exchanged curious glances, having overheard part of the conversation.

"Did he just invite you to the party tonight?" Lara asked, eyes wide with excitement.

You nodded, still in a daze. "Yes, he did."

Anya clapped her hands together. "That's wonderful! You should feel honored. These parties are very exclusive."

You looked at them, puzzled. "What exactly happens at these parties?"

Zera smiled warmly. "It's a small, private gathering. Usually, it's just Marcus and a few close friends. Only four maids are selected to attend, and it's considered a great honor."

Lara added, "You'll be there to serve, but also to... entertain. It's a chance to be close to him, to get special attention."

Lara chuckled softly. "Remember the time he invited me to one of these parties? I was so nervous, but he was incredibly kind and made sure I was comfortable. He even gifted me a beautiful necklace afterward."

Anya nodded, her eyes dreamy. "I've attended twice. The first time, I was too shy to speak much, but the second time, I felt more at ease. Marcus has a way of making you feel like you're the only one in the room. He listens, really listens, and his attention is... intoxicating."

Zera's smile widened as she added her own experience. "When I was chosen, I was scared out of my wits. But Marcus was patient, always checking if I was okay. He even taught me how to dance that night. It felt like a fairy tale. And the privileges afterward were amazing—new clothes, better quarters, and a sense of being valued."

You listened, a mix of nerves and anticipation swirling within you. The way they spoke of Marcus, with such admiration and fondness, made your heart beat faster. The night ahead seemed both daunting and exciting.

Anya squeezed your hand gently. "You'll do great. Just remember, it's not just about serving him—it's about being present, enjoying the moment, and letting him see who you are."

Lara's eyes twinkled with excitement. "And who knows? Maybe you'll receive a beautiful gift too. He has a knack for choosing the perfect ones."

Zera's expression softened. "Just be yourself, and remember, we're here for you. If you ever feel overwhelmed, you can always come to us."

The anticipation hung thick in the air as the evening settled over Marcus’s grand estate. You joined the other four maids in the lavish hall, your nerves simmering beneath a façade of calm. Each of them was strikingly beautiful, their confidence making your insecurities rise. You felt like a shadow amidst their brilliance, the thought of standing among them in Marcus’s eyes filling you with a sense of inadequacy.

But Zera’s words echoed in your mind—just be yourself. With a deep breath, you resolved to do just that, hoping it would be enough.

The party began, an intimate gathering with Marcus at the center, surrounded by a few of his close friends. The maids, including you, served drinks and delicacies, moving gracefully around the room. You kept to the side for most of the night, watching the lively conversation and laughter. Marcus’s presence was magnetic, drawing everyone in, his every word and gesture commanding attention.

You were busy refilling a guest's glass when Marcus’s gaze landed on you. Your heart skipped a beat as he smiled, a slow, deliberate smile that sent a thrill down your spine. He beckoned you over with a casual wave of his hand.

You approached him, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. "Yes, sir?" you asked, your voice steady despite your racing pulse.

"Enjoying the evening?" he inquired, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel as if the world had narrowed to just the two of you.

"It's... lovely, sir," you replied, struggling to maintain your composure under his piercing gaze.

"Good," he said, his tone teasing. "I noticed you've been hiding in the shadows. Afraid to join the festivities?"

A smile tugged at your lips. "I didn't want to intrude, sir."

"Nonsense," he murmured, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "A beauty like you should never be in the background."

Your breath hitched at his words, the compliment washing over you like a warm wave. "Thank you, sir."

Marcus's gaze held yours, his eyes darkening with an emotion you couldn't quite decipher. "Tell me," he continued, leaning in closer, "do you enjoy dancing?"

Your heart pounded in your chest. "Yes, sir."

A wicked smile curved his lips. "Good. I think it's time for some entertainment."

He turned to the room, his voice commanding as he addressed the guests. "Ladies and gentlemen, I believe it's time for a dance."

The other maids gathered, their faces lighting up with excitement. Marcus's eyes flicked back to you, a challenge in his gaze. "Join us, won’t you?" he asked, though it was more of a command than a question.

You stepped forward, joining the other maids. The music began, a sultry melody filling the air. You moved in sync with the others, your body swaying to the rhythm, feeling Marcus's eyes on you the entire time.

As you danced, you felt a heady mix of nerves and exhilaration. The other maids were graceful, their movements confident and fluid. But you, despite your initial hesitance, found yourself lost in the music, your body moving instinctively, your eyes occasionally meeting Marcus's intense gaze.

The dance ended with a flourish, and the room erupted in applause. You stood there, breathless, your heart racing. Marcus's eyes never left you, a slow smile spreading across his face as he approached.

"Well done," he said, his voice low and smooth. "You have a natural grace."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling a blush creep up your neck.

Marcus's smile deepened, his eyes never leaving yours. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief, an intricate design of fine fabric. With a slow, deliberate movement, he offered it to you.

"For you," he said, his voice a mix of command and tenderness. "A small token of my appreciation."

You took the handkerchief, your fingers brushing against his as you did. The touch sent a jolt through you, and you could feel the eyes of the other guests on you, but all you could focus on was Marcus. "Thank you, sir," you said again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear. "Keep it close. Tonight, after the guests have left, you will be summoned to my quarters. There are things we need to discuss."

Your heart raced at his words, the implication sending a thrill through you. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions inside you.

He straightened, his eyes still holding yours for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the party. "Enjoy the rest of the evening," he said, his tone returning to its earlier casualness.

You nodded, clutching the handkerchief tightly in your hand, the delicate fabric a reminder of what was to come. The rest of the evening passed in a blur, your thoughts consumed by the anticipation of your impending meeting with Marcus. The other maids occasionally glanced your way, their expressions a mix of curiosity and envy.

Later, in the dim light of the maids’ quarters, you sat with your heart pounding, the evening’s events replaying in your mind. Zera and the others had already retired for the night, leaving you alone with your thoughts. The silence was almost deafening, broken only by the occasional creak of the old building settling. Just as you began to wonder if you had misunderstood Marcus’s invitation, there was a knock on the door. You jumped, your heart leaping into your throat. You opened the door to find one of Marcus’s guards standing there, his expression unreadable.

"Marcus has requested your presence," he said simply.

You nodded, swallowing hard. "Thank you," you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly.

The guard led you through the winding corridors of the grand estate, the flickering torchlight casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. Your mind raced with possibilities, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you.

When you reached Marcus’s quarters, the guard stepped aside, allowing you to knock softly on the door.

"Enter," came Marcus's voice from within, smooth and commanding.

You pushed the door open and stepped inside. The warmth of the room and the familiar scent of Marcus’s cologne enveloped you. He stood by a table, a decanter and two glasses set upon it. His silhouette was framed by the moonlight streaming through the window, casting an ethereal glow around him.

"Close the door behind you," he instructed, his voice low and inviting.

You did as he asked, the soft click of the door closing sounding like a prelude to something monumental. Your heart raced as you stood there, feeling both vulnerable and empowered under his intense gaze.

"Come, sit," Marcus said, gesturing to a chair near the table.

You walked over, your steps measured and deliberate, and sat down. Marcus poured a rich, amber liquid into one of the glasses, then handed it to you.

"Drink," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You took the glass, the coolness of the glass contrasting with the warmth of your fingers. You brought it to your lips, the liquid smooth and heady as it slid down your throat. The warmth spread through you, calming your nerves.

Marcus poured himself a glass and took a sip, his eyes still locked on you. "I’ve noticed you," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "You have a quiet grace about you, a determination."

"Thank you, sir," you replied, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

"Tell me about yourself," he continued, leaning back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his gaze intense. "How did you come to work here?"

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "I came from a small village," you began, your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. "I wanted to find a better life, to serve in a household like yours."

Marcus nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. "And what have you found here?"

"Opportunity," you replied honestly. "A chance to learn, to grow. The work is hard, but it’s rewarding."

He smiled, a slow, almost predatory smile that sent a shiver down your spine. "I admire your honesty," he said. "And your dedication."

He reached out, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "You’ve done well tonight," he said softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "And I’d like to reward you."

Your breath hitched at his words, the promise in his tone making your heart race. "Thank you, sir," you managed to say, your voice trembling with anticipation.

Marcus's hand lingered on yours, his touch gentle yet commanding. "Do you enjoy serving me?" he asked, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made you feel exposed.

"Yes, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I do."

He smiled, a slow, seductive smile that made your pulse quicken. "Good," he murmured. "Because I enjoy having you here."

He stood, his hand slipping from yours as he moved to stand behind you. You felt his presence, the heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his cologne. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I want to see more of you, to know you better."

Your heart raced, a mixture of excitement and nerves swirling within you. The reality of the situation settled in—you were not just any maid; you were standing before Marcus, your employer, a man whose power and authority were absolute. The need to impress him, to prove your worth, weighed heavily on you.

Marcus's hands rested lightly on your shoulders, his touch sending shivers down your spine. He slowly slid your tunic down, exposing your shoulders to the cool night air. His fingers brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"You are beautiful," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "And so very intriguing."

You shivered at his words, your nerves mingling with a growing desire. "Thank you, sir," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned you to face him, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed over you. "You seem nervous," he observed, his voice soft but commanding.

"I... I want to please you, sir," you admitted, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and honesty.

Marcus's smile was slow and predatory, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak. "And you will," he said, his voice a low, seductive murmur. "But there's no need to be nervous. I already see something special in you."

He moved closer, his hands trailing down your arms, sending a shiver through you. "Relax," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tonight is about discovery."

You nodded, trying to steady your racing heart. His touch was both comforting and electrifying, his presence overwhelming yet thrilling. You felt his hands slide down your back, pulling you closer to him. The proximity made you acutely aware of every breath, every heartbeat.

Marcus's lips traced the curve of your neck, his touch gentle yet possessive. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a tantalizing whisper, "what do you desire?"

The question caught you off guard, your mind racing with a thousand thoughts. "I... I want to be valued, sir," you confessed, your voice trembling with vulnerability. "I want to be seen."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours. "You are valued," he said, his voice firm but tender. "And you are seen."

He leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both gentle and demanding. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a whirlwind of desire and emotion. His kiss deepened, his hands roaming over your body, exploring, claiming.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark with desire. "You have a fire within you," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "A fire I intend to stoke."

His words sent a thrill through you, a promise of what was to come. You felt his hands slide to the hem of your tunic, lifting it slowly, his touch deliberate and tantalizing. The fabric slipped over your head, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his eyes roaming over you with a mix of admiration and desire. He stepped back, his own tunic falling to the floor, revealing the chiseled lines of his body. His gaze remained locked on you, filled with a raw, almost primal intensity that made your pulse quicken.

As he moved closer, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the magnetism that drew you in. He reached out, his fingers trailing down your arm, leaving a path of fire in their wake. "Tell me," he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper, "are you experienced?"

The question hung in the air, laden with implications. Your heart raced as you met his gaze, the vulnerability in your answer making you feel exposed. "Yes, sir," you replied, your voice trembling slightly.

A flicker of something dark and possessive flashed in his eyes. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Who was he?"

The question, more of a demand, sent a shiver through you. You hesitated, the memory of your past lover surfacing. "A man from my village," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "But he means nothing to me now."

Marcus's grip on your arm tightened slightly, his possessiveness palpable. "Good," he growled softly, his breath hot against your skin. "Because from now on, you belong to me."

The intensity of his words sent a thrill through you, a mixture of fear and exhilaration. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. "I want to see you touch yourself," he commanded, his voice low and commanding.

Your breath caught in your throat, the request both shocking and tantalizing. You hesitated, your eyes searching his for reassurance. His expression softened slightly, a hint of encouragement in his gaze. "Show me," he urged, his voice a seductive murmur. "I want to see how you pleasure yourself."

With trembling hands, you reached down, your fingers skimming over your own skin. Marcus stopped you mid-motion, pushing you onto a plush couch in the room. He loomed over you, an imposing force, as you began to trace delicate lines across your chest, down to your stomach, and even lower. You delicately traced the lips of your pussy, collecting the small amount of wetness beginning to grow. It wasn’t enough friction, so you brought your hand to your mouth and sucked on two fingers softly before bringing them down to circle your clit in sweet and deliberate circles.

Your mouth formed a soft "O" at the feeling, as your movements brought a soft look and feel of pleasure to your body.

“Have you ever been tasted?” The question caught you off guard, and your hand stopped.

“Tasted?” you echoed.

He chuckled. “Yes, tasted.”

He got onto his knees. “What’s that?” you questioned.

He smirked and spread your legs. “Allow me to show you.”

He peppered soft kisses on your thighs before spitting on your clit, making you moan. But even the moan was cut off as his warm mouth began attacking your body. You felt his tongue flick and suck everything he could. You’d never moaned so loudly in your life. He was devouring your pussy, kissing and biting it with an intensity that made you writhe.

You couldn’t sit still. You covered your mouth and whimpered. “Already this wet for me, huh?” he whispered, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. “Spread yourself for me, baby.”

Your chest was heaving as you moved your trembling hands to comply. You spread yourself open, the vulnerability making the moment even more intense. Marcus’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you.

“Good girl,” he murmured, before diving back in. His tongue was relentless, swirling around your clit, teasing and torturing you with expert precision. You could feel every flick, every stroke, as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your hips bucking against his mouth. The pleasure was overwhelming, building with a ferocity that left you gasping. You could feel yourself teetering on the brink, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

Marcus pulled back just enough to speak, his voice a low, seductive growl. “I want you to come for me, baby. Let me hear you.”

His words were your undoing. With a cry, you shattered, the orgasm crashing over you in waves. Your body trembled, your muscles contracting as the pleasure washed over you. Marcus continued to lap at you, drawing out every last bit of your climax until you were spent, lying limp and boneless on the couch.

He moved up your body, his lips finding yours in a deep, possessive kiss. You could taste yourself on him, the intimacy of the moment making your head spin. “You taste incredible,” he murmured against your lips. “I could do that all night.”

You shivered at his words, the promise of more to come making your pulse quicken. “Thank you, sir,” you managed to whisper, your voice shaky with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that sent a thrill through you. “You’re welcome, my sweet. But we’re not done yet. I want to see everything you have to offer.”

He pulled your legs to be flush against his thighs, his strength and control undeniable. You finally dared to look at him in all his glory, and the sight took your breath away. His dick was huge and intimidating, with a slight tilt to the left. The mere sight of it made your heart race, a mix of fear and anticipation swirling within you.

With a deliberate slowness, he rubbed his dick up and down your slick entrance, coating it in your orgasm. The sensation was almost too much, making you gasp and writhe beneath him.

Then, he began to press into you, the thick head of his cock stretching you in a way that made your eyes roll to the back of your head. The pressure, the fullness, it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before.

“OH FUCK, MARCUS,” you cried out, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.

He chuckled at your sudden drop in formalities, his amusement mingling with the raw desire in his eyes. “That’s it, baby. Let it all out. No need for titles here.”

The stretch was deliciously painful, a burning sensation that morphed into pleasure as he filled you completely. He paused, allowing you to adjust to his size, his eyes never leaving your face. The intensity of his gaze made you feel exposed, vulnerable, and yet incredibly aroused.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect.”

You whimpered in response, your body trembling as you struggled to accommodate him. He began to move, slow at first, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through you. The friction, the heat, it was overwhelming. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as you tried to ground yourself.

“Faster, please,” you begged, your voice breathless.

Marcus obliged, his pace quickening, his thrusts becoming harder and deeper. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts of pleasure. Each stroke pushed you closer to the edge, the coil of pleasure tightening in your belly.

“You like that?” he growled, his breath hot against your ear. “You like being fucked by me?”

“Yes, oh god, yes,” you cried out, your body arching beneath him.

He drove into you with a relentless rhythm, his hand finding your clit and rubbing it in circles that matched his thrusts. The dual sensations were too much, pushing you over the edge into a mind-shattering orgasm. You screamed his name, your body convulsing around him, your vision going white with the intensity of your release.

Marcus didn’t stop. He continued to pound into you, chasing his own release, his hand still working your sensitive clit. The overstimulation was almost painful, but you relished it, craving more of the pleasure-pain.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he groaned, his movements becoming erratic. “I’m going to come.”

You tightened around him, wanting to push him over the edge, wanting to feel him lose control. “Come for me, Marcus,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Fill me up.”

With a final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his cock pulsing as he spilled his seed. His groan of release was primal, his body shuddering against yours. You felt the warmth of his cum filling you, the sensation pushing you into another smaller orgasm.

He stayed inside you for a moment, both of you catching your breath, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat. Finally, he pulled out, his cum dripping from your swollen pussy. He looked at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction and something more—something possessive.

“You’re mine now,” he said, his voice a low growl. “No one else gets to touch you like this.”

The weight of his words settled over you, and you felt a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. You had never been claimed so fiercely, never felt so desired. But a question lingered in the back of your mind, one you couldn’t ignore.

“Will you be seeing any other maids?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The thought of him with someone else, touching them the way he touched you, sent a pang of jealousy through you.

Marcus’s expression softened slightly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “No,” he said, his voice firm. “I don’t taste the others. I’ve seen you around, watching you, waiting for this moment.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he continued, “I’ve been planning this, waiting for the right time. You’re different, special. I want you to be my mistress.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement coursing through you. The idea of being his mistress, of belonging to him in such an intimate way, was intoxicating. You looked up at him, your eyes wide with wonder. “You’ve been waiting for me?”

“Yes,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. No one else compares to you.”

His hands roamed over your body, caressing your skin with a possessive tenderness that made you tremble. He pulled you closer, his mouth capturing yours in a searing kiss. You melted into him, your body responding to his touch, craving more.

He broke the kiss, his eyes burning with desire. “I want you to understand something,” he said, his voice low and intense. “Being my mistress means you belong to me. Your body, your pleasure, it’s all mine.”

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the whirlwind of emotions inside you. He smiled, a slow, predatory smile that made your pulse quicken.

“Good,” he said, his hands sliding down your body. “Now, show me how much you want to be mine.”

[topguncortez]

Set Up For Failure - J. Halstead

whumptober masterlist || previous day

prompt: "I Warned You"

synopsis: Life with Jay had never been easy, and you knew that being with a police officer wasn't going to be easy. But when a newly released criminal starts repeating the same patterns that got him put behind bars, Jay starts to worry about your safety.

warnings: cursing, robbery gone wrong, attempted murder, mentions of large amounts of blood, crime scenes, pregnancy, kidnapping, mentions of a non-consensual c-section.

word count: 2.9k

Being married to a cop wasn’t easy. Being married to a detective that belonged to Hank Voight’s Intelligence department wasn’t easy either. When you first met Jay, he did everything he possibly could to shield you from the life that he lived. In fact, you didn’t even know his name was Jay until about six months into your relationship. It was by accident that you had figured out his name, who he was and what he did for work. 

At first, you were pissed, you didn’t talk to him for about two months, completely cutting him off. How could you be with someone who had lied to you so easily? Who didn’t think you were worthy or trustful enough to tell you what he did every single day? Jay had groveled, showing up at your apartment every day with a bouquet of flowers, begging for you to talk to him. You had got so annoyed that you left a note on the door telling him to take the flowers and donate them to the nursing home. But after the third month of him waiting outside your door, you finally decided to hear him out. 

“I have an explanation,” He started. You crossed your arms over your chest, “Everyone who has been close to me ends up getting hurt or worse. I couldn’t let that happen. Not to you. I have been living in this darkness for so long, and you come and. . . you brought the light back,” Jay shook his head, “I was terrified of what would happen if the light went away.” 

“No more lying,” You said, pointing at him. 

“None, I swear,” Jay said, putting his hands, “Does this mean I am forgiven?” 

“This means you are on probation.” 

Four years later, you were now Mrs. Halstead, and in your final month of pregnancy. Life with Jay had been everything you dreamed of and more. He was attentive and caring, always calling you on his way home from the station, or texting you if it was going to be a late night. He did everything he possibly could to provide for you, buying a small fixer upper house near Hank’s place. Will had accepted you as his sister-in-law almost instantly, loving to have someone on his side during petty arguments with Jay. The whole squad had basically adopted you as one of their own, even though you didn’t have a single thing to do with the police force. You had been a teacher until you got pregnant, and decided to spend the first year of your baby’s life at home. 

"There's been a series of break-ins in the Sunset Hills neighborhood, which has residents on alert. Channel 10 news is-"

The TV had clicked off from behind you, causing you to gasp and look over your shoulder at your husband. You smiled sheepishly before turning back to the pile of baby clothes that you were folding. 

“You’re home early,” You said. 

“Mhm,” Jay answered, crossing his arms over his chest, “What are you doing?” 

“Oh, you know,” You lifted up a pile of folded onesies, “Kid has more clothes than me.” Jay’s eyebrow raised, “And I was just catching up on the local happenings. . . have I told you how much I love you?”

Jay huffed, shaking his head, “I told you to quit reading into that. There’s nothing to worry about.” 

You sighed looking down at the pile of clothes, you had been caught yet again. Ever since the first break-in in the neighborhood, you had been on high alert, even though both Jay and Hank assured you that it was nothing to worry about, but you still felt uneasy every time you were in the house alone, which happened to be a lot. Hank told you that the thieves weren’t hurting anyone or going to houses where they knew people were home. The only thing they were guilty of was breaking in and stealing thousands worth in property. 

“I have the right to know what’s going on,” You crossed your arms over your chest, “I need to know what is going on in case-“ 

“Nothing is going to happen,” Jay walked over towards where you sat on the couch and kneeled down in front of you, “Nothing is going to happen to you. We have the best security system money can buy. We are blocks away from the station, uniforms are doing patrols up and down this street, hell, Hank lives right next door,” You chuckled at that. Jay’s large warm hands landed on your belly, gently rubbing over the stretched skin, “You are safe, I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” He placed a kiss on your forehead, “To both of you.” He then placed a kiss on your belly, earning him a kick in response, “Chill out in there, rambo.” 

“She gets excited when you’re around,” You smiled, “She can hear you.” 

Watching Jay become a father has been your favorite thing in life. From the moment you stood in the door of your shared bedroom, tears running down your face as you told him, you knew he was going to be the best dad ever. The next day he went out and bought as many books as he could on parenting. You had to basically force him to keep his mouth shut from telling the squad, as he wanted to shout from the rooftops he was going to be a dad. Now it was count down mode until his little girl could be in his arms. 

— — — 

“It’s going to be a late night,” Jay huffed out from the other end. You could hear the faint sound of a radio, and knew he was probably sitting in his patrol truck, Hailey next to him, waiting for some movement or clue. 

“This past week have all been late nights,” You sighed, letting the warmth of your bath water seep into your bones. In the past week, it seemed as though your baby was getting ready to make their move to come into this world. Your last appointment your doctor pointed out that your belly had started to drop a bit, which sent Jay into a full on panic. Your back had been killing you, and the only place that seemed to help ease the pain, was the clawfoot bathtub you made Jay put in the bathroom. 

“I know, baby,” Jay sighed. He hated the late nights just as much as you did, especially being so close to your due date. He knew that Natalie and Will were right down the street, and would be over in a flash if you ever needed anything, but Jay hated the fact that he couldn’t be right there. His paternity leave wasn’t set to start until after the baby was born. 

“Just tell me, you’re going to catch whatever bad guy you are after,” Although you still disliked some aspects of Jay’s job, you loved that he was part of keeping the beautiful city safe. 

“Always, baby,” Jay smiled on the other side of the receiver, “I promise I’ll be home as soon as Hank cuts us loose. Tell Rambo she can’t make her appearance tonight.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Quit calling her Rambo.” 

Jay’s smooth laugh filled the air, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sound, “I love you, Y/N. I’ll be home soon.” 

You spent probably another half hour, until the bath water had run cold and the candles burnt out before you climbed out of the bath. You grabbed a pair of Jay’s boxers and one of his Chicago PD shirts, which seemed to be all that fit you at this point, and some of the only things that felt comfortable enough to wear. You propped the pillows up behind your back as you climbed into bed. Most nights you would fall asleep in the recliner, sitting up nearly straight felt better than laying in a bed. But for some reason, you felt safer lying in your shared bed than being out in the living room. 

Sleep didn’t come easy to you. Being almost 40 weeks pregnant, moving around trying to get comfortable wasn’t something new to you. But it wasn’t the feeling of your daughter kicking your ribs that kept you awake. You couldn’t turn your mind off, every slight howl of the wind or the creek of the old house had you jumping slightly, and looking around your dark bedroom. At some point you had drifted off to a light, fitful sleep, but were awoken by the sound of smashing glass. 

You gasped, looking around the room, your hand on your pounding heart. You sat still in your bed, straining your ears to hear if maybe it was Jay. But the sound of a groan, had you climbing out of bed, going straight to the safe in the closet. You punched in the code quickly, grabbing the gun and the magazine that Jay kept in there. You had only ever loaded a gun a handful of times, and prayed that you had done it right, as you grabbed your phone, and locked the bedroom door. You dialed 9-1-1 with shaky hands as you heard footsteps and a male grumbling. 

“I’m armed and calling 9-1-1!” You yelled out, hoping to scare off whoever was in your house. The trill of the line seemed to go on forever, until you were met with the sound of a dispatcher. 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” 

“I think someone broke into my house,” You said, trying your best to keep your voice steady, “I-I’m Detective Halstead’s wife.” 

“Alright Mrs. Halstead,” The operator said, “Can you tell me where you are at?” 

“I’m in my bedroom. I locked the door and hid in the closet.” 

“Are you armed?” 

You looked down at the black gun on the bedroom floor, tears filling your eyes, “Y-Yes. But please hurry, I think-” 

The sound of the bedroom door banging opened caused you to gasp. You clamped a hand over your mouth as the footsteps grew closer to you, and prayed to anyone listening that you were going to make it through this. 

— — — 

Jay felt like he was about ready to fall asleep. The unit had been tasked with trying to find out who was behind a series of break-ins. It wasn’t their normal gig, break-ins were unfortunately common in their district, but the last two break-ins resulted in two homicides. Hank was going to right off the two homicides, saying that they still didn’t catch the eye of the intelligence unit, but the last two crime scenes had similar patterns to a case that Jay had worked several years ago. 

“Have you guys settled on a name?” Hailey asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 

Jay shook his head with a smile, “She’s still set on Ophelia. But I think Sammy is better.” 

“Sammy?” Hailey asked, already guessing what Jay’s answer was going to be. 

“For Sammy Sosa!” 

Hailey shook her head, “Yeah, I agree with Y/N on this one.” Jay scoffed, and the silence stretched back across the cab of the truck, “Why do you think this is a revenge thing?” 

“I don’t know if it is a revenge thing, but I have a feeling it is,” Jay sighed, “The pattern just fits. 13 plain home invasions, then two homicides. The writings in blood on the walls of the crime scene? That wasn’t public knowledge.” 

“But why would Roger Sterling wait this long? What has it been, six years?” 

Jay nodded his head. It was one of his first cases in the intelligence units, and Hank was right when he said the first one sticks with you. Jay thought he had the facts right out in front of him. Roger Sterling checked all of the boxes for the home invader turned murderer, except one. The night of the third homicide, Roger had a solid alibi that was backed by his wife. But not having an alibi for two out of three murders was good enough for the jury to convict, and sent Roger to prison for two years. That was, until the conviction was overturned on the grounds of ‘not enough solid evidence’. Roger was let go, but he held a vengeance for Jay. 

“I don’t know,” Jay ran a hand down his face, “I’m guessing he was probably stewing in his anger. He was proven innocent of all the crimes, but that still doesn’t give him a clean bill. He’s probably been angry for years and is now acting out.” 

“It just doesn’t make-” 

“All Units, All Units, we have an active call for a home invasion and the sound of gun fire.” 

Jay cursed, grabbing his radio, “This is 5021 George, what’s the address we’re in route.” 

“Address is three-twelve south Cleveland street.” 

Jay felt like his heart had stopped in his chest, as his radio fell from his hand. The only sound in his ears was the sound of his blood, roaring in his body. Everything had frozen, his hands began to shake and his vision went black. He couldn’t even hear or feel Hailey shaking him out of his trance, trying to get his attention. It was like Jay’s body moved on autopilot, as he pulled the truck out of park and sped towards his house. 

His house. 

The house his wife and child were home alone in. 

The house where there were gunshots fired. 

Jay barely put the truck in park as he arrived on scene, and didn’t even bother to shut the door as he jumped out and ran up the yellow police tape. The bright lights and sounds of sirens were making his head pound as he tried to push his way through to his house. He was brought out of his trance when he felt a hand on his chest, stopping him from approaching. Jay looked down, anger coursing through his bones. 

“Let me fucking go,” He sneered at Hank. 

“I can’t let you do that,” Hank’s gravelly voice sounded out. 

“That’s my wife!” 

“And this is a crime scene,” Hank barked back, “My crime scene.” Jay felt like he was going to throw up, as his knees gave out. Hank quickly wrapped an arm around him, helping him down to the curb. 

“Is she-” 

“She’s alive,” Hank responded, “But barely. They took her straight to Med, I called ahead and told Will to meet her there.” 

Jay felt like he could breathe a little bit better, knowing that his baby brother was going to be in charge of his wife’s care. It was as if Jay’s mind went blank, a factory reset as he looked at the members of his unit jump right into working the scene. 

“I need to see it,” Jay said, his voice lacking any emotion. Hailey, who stood behind him, gave Hank a look, but the older man knew Jay well enough. 

“C’mon,” Hank turned and walked towards the house, Jay hot on his heels. The two of them pushed through the yellow police tape, and Jay felt his heart tick again. 

The perfect house that Y/N had spent so much time on, was destroyed. Pieces of glass from the windows littered the floor, pictures on the wall had been skewed, bloody footprints left on the hardwood floors that took Jay way too long to fix up. 

Jay clenched his jaw, “Where was she?” 

“Perp came in through the back,” Adam explained, pointing to the open back door, “Looted around down here for a little bit, from what we can tell, nothing was taken.” Jay couldn’t even focus on seeing if anything was missing, he was more concerned on how Y/N ended up the victim. “Then he went upstairs,” Adam nodded his head towards the bloody footprints. 

Hank then led him up the stairs, where more uniforms stood around taking pictures, and putting numbered yellow place cards on the blood splatters. Normally, the coppery scent of blood didn’t bother Jay, but this had him feeling sick as he approached his bedroom. 

“The 9-1-1 call was dialed from in here,” Hank said, “Her phone was found in the closet along with a nine mil.” Jay felt some sense of pride that Y/N knew to get the gun from the safe. He could remember the day he had first brought it home and how much she had protested having a weapon in the house. But Jay promised it would be the only weapon they had and it was going to be under lock and key at all times. 

“Did she fire it?” Jay asked, his voice barely above a whisper. 

Hank nodded, “Bullet embedded in the wall.” 

“She missed,” Jay shook his head, his blue eyes looking down at the huge blood spot on the bedroom floor. “Is th-that her. . .” Hank nodded his head again. Jay let out a shuddering breath as he sat on the edge of the bed. It was as if time had finally stopped, and Jay came to a sickening realization about the blood on the floor, “The baby. . .” His eyes widened as he looked at Hank, who had a grime expression on his face, “Where is my baby?” 

Hank looked at Adam, who stood in the doorway, “We have an amber alert-” 

Jay stood up from the bed immediately, but Hank put a hand on his chest, “Get your fucking hand off of me.” 

“We found this next to her,” Hank handed Jay a note. 

Jay took the yellow piece of notebook paper, which was folded in half and a polaroid picture was in the middle. The picture was of Y/N, and it looked to be taken not that long ago, her round pregnant belly protruding out as she stood in front of the large bay window of the living room. Written in what Jay prayed was red ink were the words: 

“I warned you.”

[admirxation]

彡 𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏𝟑𝐭𝐡 - 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

♡ 𝐬𝐮𝐦. Choso gets obsessed with the girl that offered him a pen in class (wc: 4.7k)

𝐜𝐰 — afab!reader x Choso Kamo. 18+ smut mdni, dead dove do not eat, dub con (sex while reader is drunk and Choso is sober), obsession, yandere, male masturbation, sick fantasies (a mention of wanting to do non-con somno on the reader), getting off to the reader sleeping, p in v, unprotected sex, and cum. -> you've been warned; continue at your own discretion.

The first day he met you was like any other; he remembered the tired and sluggish feeling he had every morning when walking in the grey blur of a cloudy day to reach class and sitting in the back of class. At the same time, he stared at his blank notebook, realising that he had forgotten a pen. He remembered that he—being his shy self—was reluctant to ask anyone for help. His dark brown hair, slightly dishevelled from his tossing and turning sleeping pattern, hung in front of his pale face when he just sat there, nervous and awkward about asking someone to borrow something as simple as a pen.

But then you came into the picture.

He remembered when you sat next to him; he hadn’t ever noticed you before until you were right next to him and organising your things with casual grace; your presence was immediate, warm like sunlight that cut through an overcast sky with your hair framing your perfect face and curled at the edges. He remembered that stirring feeling when his gaze caught with yours; he remembered the warm feeling that spread in his chest but also not understanding the depth of what he was feeling; he knew it was attraction, but he remembered it felt deeper than that, his heart never felt like it stopped when he looked at other attractive women, you were the first to make his heart feel heavy, in a good way.

He could barely focus that day when you smiled at him; it wasn’t forced or polite; it was a simple, easy, and genuine smile that made his heart feel like it was hugged with a warm embrace.

“Hey, do you need a pen? You’ve just been looking at a blank page for the past five minutes.” Those were the first words you uttered to him, and that accompanying smile made him melt; it was beautiful. While giving him a pen was such a small act, it felt like you had offered him the world with your kind gesture and knowing what he was struggling with.

He remembered how he was momentarily frozen, with the sound of your voice catching him off guard, as well as your kindness and being able to notice when he hadn’t even asked for assistance; all he did at the moment was nod and utter a ‘thank you.’ However, this was the start of something bigger to happen, the first meeting of a forever-growing obsession he would have with you, the kind girl who sat next to him in a college class. That little moment was insignificant to many, but it was far from nothing to Choso.

The days passed, and he repeated recounting that moment: the way you smiled at him, the slight feel of the lingering sensation of your fingertips against his, and the way you made him feel warm. His mind couldn’t stop spiralling when he replayed the moment your lips curved, and your eyes shimmered, like a lovesick puppy replaying a movie moment in his wild imagination. The weeks that continued, and the more you sat next to him, engaging in a few-minute conversations before the professor spoke, he catalogued every memory of it. He stored it deep in his mind, replaying it while smiling like a lovesick idiot.

You had absolutely no idea what your presence had done to him, with just a simple gesture and a bit of small talk in the mornings, but Choso knew, and he knew he desperately wanted more of you. He knew it was awful to be this obsessive, but he would be a fool if he ignored how his heartbeat reverberated through his body every time he saw or even thought of you.

His obsession didn’t stop in those first few weeks; it only got worse and grew like ivy climbing up the walls, your lingering presence around his every thought and tightening its grip over him with each passing day.

After the first few weeks, curiosity began to gnaw him, physically hurting him with the want to know more. It started innocent—at first—or at least that’s what he kept telling himself. He searched your name online; you gave him a nickname you went by, and he found the name on the class register that best fit. It was a simple task that got a big tick right next to it. His heart always raced when he combed through your found profile; you had made a public profile and accumulated a decent following, so there were enough pictures for him to stare at and fall in love with. When finding it, he mentioned in the next lesson you two were together that he’d love to have your social media to talk more, as you both enjoyed the small talk; innocently, you agreed and gave him your private socials—rookie mistake.

With the private sector, he could see your life as if he was standing next to you and living it with you; you loved taking silly selfies with messy hair in the morning, coffee shop pictures with a location, and pictures of your shoes with the caption ‘bored’ when standing at the bus stop; however, what you didn’t know was your silly postings were just feeding Choso’s questions with answers. It was a piece of cake to find out what coffee shop you would go to every morning from 10 am to 12 pm; he knew that corner of the library you would always sit at from matching the view he saw in the window you would always take a picture of, and he also knew what time you would get home. From the pictures, you would always get the 6:45 pm bus and the stop just outside of campus; the only thing he needed to complete was to see what stop you got off at and see where your private life was actually situated.

On a Friday evening, you completed your studies at the library, packed up your things, and went to your usual bus stop just outside campus. Choso had made the decision not to turn up to class today, making you believe he was sick in bed when sending:

Hey, I won’t be in class today. If it’s no bother, can you send me the notes?

To which you replied like the sweet angel you were:

Get well soon, cho <3

That was enough for the pale on his face to turn bright strawberry red; you used a cute nickname and a heart. It was almost too good to be true; no girl had given him this sort of attention before, and he would never complain about it; why would he? This was a good sign; perhaps you might have been thinking about him as well, but Choso had a sort of game plan he wanted to follow.

Step one: Talk to you more. This step was already near completion with how you two talked every day, and a big bonus on his part was that he wasn’t the only one initiating the conversations. It was equal between you both, with a mix of topics like class, well-being, and silly videos that made the other one laugh—it was looking good for him. Step two: ask to hang out. This step was a work in progress; at the moment, he was stuck talking to you before and a little bit after class; he enjoyed this, but he longed to be with you longer than a few minutes and in a more intimate manner than just some text messages and funny pictures; he often fantasised about going on a date late at night and inviting you over, to snuggle up on the sofa together until he found the courage to make the move he had wanted to for ages; of course, many of his fantasies were straight up movie cliches, and the dirty ones…well… let’s say they were a certain type of film media inspiration when he fantasised about bringing you home and spending the night.

Gods, he could imagine it now; he could tell you would sound like an angel underneath him, that you would taste like a moreish sweet treat, feel soft as silk. The very final step would be to finally have you, to have the girl that had been driving him crazy from just a few simple smiles and interactions, but he needed to indulge while going through the long steps with you; he needed his sweet treats to keep secret before he could have you whenever you both wanted, plus, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you.

He waited in the background while you sat and waited for the 6:45 pm bus, and thank goodness for his luck; it looked like the bus was quite full, making it easier for him to have his hoodie wrapped over his head and not draw attention while he sat a few seats behind you to watch that innocent face scroll through your phone while he was waiting for you to press the stop button. You hadn’t seen him today, meaning you wouldn’t know what he would be wearing, and accompanied by that little lie of being sick, you wouldn’t be aware nor prepared for his presence.

It was almost like some higher power was helping him since he found it so easy—almost too easy—when a few other people pressed the button straight after you, a few people getting off at the exact same spot; this was too easy with being able to blend into the background.

When you stepped off, he watched as you walked with your earphones in, clueless as you strode forward until you made a left turn into an apartment block—bingo. Finally, he knew where you had been living, and all he had to do now was find out which room you were in. Hopefully, you were somewhere in the back where he could find a hiding spot, and hopefully, you were a silly, naive girl always to have the curtains open to let the world see how gorgeous you were. Everything was going according to plan, and he was hoping things would remain to do as well as they had been.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Things continued to go according to plan ever since he found your apartment. To his pleasure, your talking had managed to increase more than just a little before and after class; you had been studying together in the library for a few fours together; of course, this was just a small step, but it felt like everything to Choso, it felt intimate to sit opposite you and watch that crinkle form on your brow as you tried to concentrate, the way the tip of your tongue would poke out when doing a reading and annotating the page, and the jolt of excitement that would run through him when your foot accidentally grazed his leg. Every time you apologised for it, he would just smile and tell you that it was okay and not to worry, but what he wanted to say was, “Please touch me more however you like”, like the little obsessive freak he was for you; all for a girl that just offered him a pen on a random day at the back of the class.

It was another evening when you said your goodbyes, giving him that sweet smile he had grown in love with, making him melt, and his knees buckle with the sight and memory of how the lips curved into comfort for him. Despite spending the whole afternoon with you, he needed to see you through the curtains you kept open. That’s right. After some snooping and looking around while staying in the stealth of tall bushes, he managed to find your window, which was always illuminated with aesthetic LED lighting, and just like he had hoped for, you were the type silly enough to keep those curtains open until you went to sleep—lucky him.

Right now, he crouched by the bush and looked forward to you sitting on the sofa, watching some movie that he had noticed you watched often. He noted it to bring up in casual conversation during the next library session break.

You weren’t even doing anything interesting, just lying down, looking like you were about to doze off, but Choso couldn’t help but stare at that pretty face and figure of yours; it only helped add arousal that made a warm stream of blood collect in his pants when he saw you turn around on your side, giving a view of your plush ass where your shorts were riding up when curling up and closing your eyes as you unintentionally dozed off. It's such a shame you kept your window locked. Choso would have adored to pay you an unknowing visit.

Perfect, perfect, perfect, he thought to himself when his breath hitched into a lump in his throat. He had never seen this much-exposed skin; it was autumn, so you would come to class with cosy jumpers and jeans, but seeing you at home, all bundled up with a tight top and shorts, oh, that was enough for the arousal to grow deeper and domino into his cock creating a hardened tent against the rough fabric of his jeans, a pleading pleasurable sensation collecting and drawing beads of sweat from his forehead the more it was begging for a sweet release, but for this time he would have to sort himself out with his own hand, but soon enough he’d be able to be inside of you and make you feel his hard length push in and out of that tight wet hole, he just had to be patient with the game plan, but while he was playing the waiting game he needed a little indulgence.

That was the fantasy. The fantasy of you writhing underneath him, and he just knew you would moan like an angel; just the thought of you moaning his name while orgasming and coming all over his cock was enough to make him spurt out sticky white all over in his tight boxers.

He palmed his large imprint, his pants getting deeper and heavier as it fogged out into the cold evening air as he watched the slow, steady rise and fall of your chest.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he whispered to himself as he witnessed his own sleeping beauty unknowingly giving him enough for fantasy to spread like wildfire within his psyche; it’s crazy how far an obsession can go when it involves a pretty girl.

It didn’t take long for the range of moments to cluster up in him unzipping his hands, his calloused hand plunging underneath the stretched waistband to feel his cold palm collect around his thick shaft, making him release a broken jolting yelp as he pumped his fist around his cock from just the sight of you.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers to himself as he watches your closed eyes take you into an innocent dream world while sin is happening right outside your window, but you are too naive and unaware to realise.

He imagined what it would be like to be on top of you, to spread your legs and nestle himself right in between, to feel your doughy and plush thighs underneath his fingertips, perhaps leaning down and peppering your soft skin with his kisses as he proved his love and adoration for you.

He couldn’t wait for the day every step would collide into a night of arousal and passion, and perhaps a relationship that would allow him to touch and appreciate you whenever you both wanted it; he adored you, you were his dream girl, and he couldn’t wait until the day he wouldn’t have to rely on imaginative fantasy and the lonely feeling of his own hand, waiting for the day he’d feel your tight walls spasm and clench around his dick and filling your cervix up with his load. You’d take it like the good girl you’d be for him.

Fantasies only snowballed into deeper and darker needs, wanting to explore it with the idea of taking you right there while you’re sleeping, watching that innocent sleepy face as he would plunge his hardened cock into your gummy insides.

He felt his weeping cock splutter precum and drool down his prominent vein, feeling it collect around his slender fingers as he continued to fuck his own fist, imagining that it was your wet pussy convulsing around him and sucking him in further. He’s been with other women before, but he’s never been obsessed, or even in love, with anyone like he was with you; you were the dream he needed to make a reality.

Choso continued to pump his cock, a heart throbbing sound collecting around his ears as his peripheral started to go blurred as he looked at your far too reach figure in your room and rubbed along his hot sensitive skin; not long before moaning and letting his lip quiver as a shot of white collected in his boxers and darkened the fabric. He wanted you and couldn’t wait for this game to stop until he could finally be with you.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Ever since that night, fulfilling lusty taboo actions right outside your window, he couldn’t stop visiting; he kept coming over and nestling himself in the bushes right outside your apartment and stroking himself to the view of your sleeping and innocent body that he just desperately wanted there to be a day he could touch you.

Lucky for him, he found it.

On a Friday night, he found out that you liked to go out drinking with a few friends every other Friday. He didn’t catch their names but saw one being a tall blonde girl and another a mouthy brunette. He knew you went to the same club, and you were all divided into three paths when precisely four minutes from your apartment. It was surprising what could be found when being quiet and patient.

You wobbled with blurred eyesight as your arms wrapped around you to keep warm. You should have worn a jacket over the black dress that hugged your curves perfectly. However, to Choso, he was ecstatic you weren’t wearing a jacket; it made it easier to be smooth when he “accidentally” bumped into you.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t see you there. " Gosh, he was such a good little actor. He smiled at you like he was the epitome of innocence.

“Ohhh, hey Choso, what you doing here?” you wobbled a bit, still in your drunken state but smiling at him; you were obviously attracted to him, but you had kept this secret for a while, and you were completely oblivious to what Choso had been doing these past few days after finding out where you lived.

“Woah there, I think you’ve had a bit too much to drink.”

“Yeah,” you hiccuped softly, “I think I might haveeee, haha.”

“Come on, let’s get you home.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Nonsense. It’s dark. I can’t let a lady out walking around. You don’t know what weirdo could get their hands on you,” he said as he put his jacket over you, the warmth making you feel safe.

However, the feeling of safety was an illusion; the weirdo you had to worry about was the one you were leading home in your inebriated state, but you were too dazed in your connection and attraction to him to care—the alcohol soon took away that filter you managed to keep during the day. Both of you obviously liked one another, but Choso was taking it too far, and you were too shy to mention anything; it was about playing the long game, which was soon going to end for a win for both of you with how being drunk took away your filter and let Choso take every advantage thrown at him.

He was gentle with you when taking you into your apartment, walking you over to your bed while taking in the interior of your place. He had already got a sense of what it looked like when he spent hours outside of your window, but seeing it close, all the trinkets and decorations up close felt like he had gotten closer to your heart—something he had been desperate for ages. You sat together on the bed, and he could feel his heart hammer against his chest. This was his moment to start something, touch you, get closer… but you were drunk. Did he really want his first time with you to be when you were dazed and drunk?

As mentioned previously, the alcohol had taken your filter away, and your real attraction to him had started showing when your soft hands trailed on his thigh, making him swallow the lump that was starting at the base of his throat.

“Thanks for taking me home, such a sweet thing to do,” you whisper in his ear, almost a suggestive and tantalising tone that made a strawberry hue dust on Choso’s cheeks; this was everything he had wanted with you practically all over him, but he still needed to play his cards right.

“No, it’s no problem, r-really… Any decent man would have done what I did… Don’t thank me for the bare minimum.”

“Oh, but I wanna,” you whispered seductively as your hands started to trail on his broad, muscular chest. The alcohol was affecting you internally with how your brain felt like it was spinning in the inside of your skull, but you also felt the warmth collecting in your core as you watched the face you had grown an attachment to be right in front of you; the drunkenness taking away your inhibitions and letting you do whatever your sober self wanted but felt like she couldn’t. “Mmm, maybe I should thank you, sweetie.” You whispered again as you started to kiss his neck, making him expel a deep groan as he subconsciously leaned his head to the side to provide you better access to the slope of his neck that had a bobbing adam’s apple protrude with the way he gasped for the sensation of your glossy lips.

“Oh, fuck,” he quietly moaned out. This was everything he had been dreaming of ever since his hands first collected around his cock and started rubbing himself to the thought of you and then the sight outside your bedroom; he felt devoted to you but also felt a bubbling feeling of guilt. Choso—while obsessive—was not delusional enough to believe he was in the right; he knew he was creepy and that he should stop; he wasn’t going to give a monologue of how he needed to be creepy. But he was someone who gave into his desires easily; any source of temptation he would take it; he was weak-minded, and that was his own fault, and he still felt a bubbling guilt within him when excitement and arousal made the tent of his pants peak and remembering all the boundaries he had crossed for what, an obsessive crush over a girl who gave him a goodman pencil?

“Oh, I think you like that,” you whispered as you started to rub the large imprint on his jeans, which made him shudder. “Mmm, I’m gonna reward your kindness very well, my love.”

Choso was enjoying the ecstasy of your small hands collecting around his cock that had been pushing against the thick denim fabric, begging to be released and nestle itself along and inside your body to fulfil every lusty desire he had accumulated over these days. But that bubbling feeling of guilt eventually eclipsed his desire.

“I want you so bad… I’ve wanted you for ages.”

“And what’s stopping you? I’m right here,” you had started to push down the straps of your dress before he stopped you, your dress resting on your cleavage and making him feel like he was about to burst.

“You’re drunk… I don’t know if you really want it and I…. I… It will break my heart to see you regret me.”

“Chosoooo,” you cooed, “I’ve liked you for ages; I promise you I won’t regret it. Have you ever heard of drunk actions, sober thoughts?”

“Yes, but come on, that’s different-”

“Shh,” you cut him off, “I do want you, I promise… Please just take me.”

“Fuck.”

He practically pounced on you as you both interlocked into a wet and passionate kiss, making you release a harmonious coupling of ‘mmm’s’ and giggles as you felt his kisses envelop your lips and start to trail on the curve of your neck and collarbone as he pulled the black fabric of your dress further down. His quivers got louder as he pushed your dress further down, leaving kisses on the exposed skin before dragging it down your legs, flicking it off your feet and discarding it on the carpeted floor. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, but the way you begged for him, well, he soon believed in the ‘drunk actions, sober thoughts’ notion you had brought up to your defence; he didn’t imagine his first time with you like this, but he didn’t know when he’d have another chance, he went through with the dance of both of you removing your clothes before the heat radiated off of each other’s bodies while you embraced one another into bodily connection with kisses and grinding that made you moan.

“I want you so bad,” you whispered in the shell of his ear as you felt him rub the tip of his cock against your wet folds, making your lip quiver as you looked at him through your peripheral that continued to be blurred.

“Gods, I want you so much more,” his adam’s apple bobbed as his breath hitched, taking in a gasp as he started to push his cock in further into your anticipating hole, feeling himself shudder with arousal and excitement flowering through his veins when he heard you gasp.

“Aah, Choso,” you moaned through your bitten lip.

“Fuck, you make the p-prettiest sounds… much better than I imagined,” he whispered as his eyes rolled up towards the ceiling and fluttered them shut as he took deep and long strokes, feeling how your gummy insides clenched and pulsated around him as the tip of his cock that kissed that spongy spot that made your toes curl and your back arch towards him through a sea of orgasmic moans.

Your eyelids were heaving, but you couldn’t stop watching as Choso pushed his hand on your stomach and felt the way his long shaft was pushing itself inside of you.

“You like it when I fill you up like this?” he whispered gently.

“Aah, yeah, mmm, this is amazing, Cho,” you whimpered out, filling the room with a cathartic release of orgasms, moans, and wet slapping of skin to fill the room’s atmosphere.

He pushed his hand harder on your stomach, his spare hand squeezing the swell of your breast as he watched them bounce in his thrusts.

“Oh, fuck, I’m falling in love with you,” he whispered through a moan.

“Mm, me too.”

A trickle of excitement ran down his spine. It coursed through his body, continuing to slap his pelvis against the fat of your thighs, feeling closer as he continued to rut his hips forward and feeling your wet aching cunt suck him in further for the tip to kiss your cervix passionately. It wasn’t long after you grabbed onto his biceps and covered his pretty cock with your release, making him take a sharp breath in as he watched that creamy ring form around his shaft.

“Oh, you’re everything a man could want,” he whimpered out.

“Please, please, cum, I want it.”

It wasn’t like he needed the invitation as he pulled out and covered your tummy with his white load, watching how the splash oozed over your curves and softness.

“You’re amazing.”

“You are too, my love,” you answer back to his breathless comment.

He knew he shouldn’t have done anything he had been doing anything he had been these past days, with the obsessive searching, stalking outside the bedroom, the fantasies, and now taking advantage of you. Still, he looked into your eyes, and you shared the same arousal he did, the same want and desire; he would have to tell you in future everything he had done, but for now, he was focusing on recovering after his high of being with you and feeling what he had been desperate for.

🏷️ taglist: @bratbby333 @styrofoamplat3s @wintrrxxo @sleazymac-n-cheesy @localkiss -> check my pinned for taglist link and if you want to be deleted just message privately.

a/n: It's the 13th so had to get a dark fic out; I'm mad it's not a friday but a 13th is a 13th so you get some dark Choso. Just wanted to make a disclaimer, of course we all know I do not condone everything I write, I don't believe in the 'drunk actions sober thoughts', if someone's drunk they obviously cannot consent; this is just a work of fiction where I have warned you prior and by clicking and continuing to read you're consenting to reading and being a part of a fictional roleplay. I just wanted to get that out there.