#You understand that's a slap in the face right??

[justasimpleton-26]

Hmmm, I'd like to try my hand at this!

Idiot, Idiot, Idiot. Jason thinks to himself. At least he thinks he does, because Dick pinches his arm and shakes his head.

Jason makes sure not to stare too long at Dick because then the toxin he accidentally inhaled will make Dick look like a melted-face puddle and Jason is pretty sure it's bad enough he has to deal with the giggling maniacs of the Joker.

The Joker, who stands in that corner, and watches Jason like a hawk.

Jason wants to leave. Twice or three times he's tried to escape the Batcave, but either Damian finds him (the scared 14 year old who tries to play it off), Tim does (the 19 year old who's jittery from nerves or coffee), or Dick does, the ever patient 25 year old who seems to be the only one that can touch Jason, without Jason screaming in hysterics.

"How much longer?" Damian asks. Or maybe it's Bruce.

Jason can't focus on one of them too long without their faces turning into twisted, Joker versions of themselves.

"Wow, little bird. They seem to really care for you...now." Joker says, as he taps the back of Jason’s head with...not a crowbar, it's too soft. Maybe his cane. "But I didn't see them when I invited you over to play."

"Stop...just...stop." Jason says, his voice hoarse. Was he screaming? When was he screaming?

Jason sits on the couch, curled up into himself. He doesn't care if he looks ridiculous, whatever it takes to not have the Joker focused on him, Jason will do it.

"Now, boy wonder...wanna hear a joke?" Joker asks, his voice right next to Jason’s ear.

"Lay it on me." Jason replies, weary. He doesn't understand how though the Lazarus pit healed him...he can still feel the pain on his body.

"Lay what on you?" Bruce asks, his voice even.

"That was rude, Bats. Birdie, tell the Bat to be nice or you'll be the one filled with strife." Joker said, tapping Jason’s shoulder. This time, it was the crowbar.

Jason, with tired reluctance, relays the demand.

Jason doesn't bother to look up if Bruce listened or not. His gaze sticks to the floor, that was supposed to be cement but for some reason is nothing but wriggling maggots.

"Like a coffin." Jason whispered to himself, and that makes Joker laugh.

"Hey birdie, you ever seen the living Deadman? No? You should, you own a mirror!" Joker laughed maniacally, Jason letting out a weak chuckle.

Okay, that one was pretty funny.

"What was the joke?" Dick asked, and Jason spares a glance at his older brother. Dick's face remains the same for a bit and Jason takes in a shaky breath.

"Tell them the joke, Jason. I'm sure they're DYING for a laugh as well." Joker orders, and Jason forces his gaze up, looking over at all of them with a forced calm.

"Joker asked me if I've seen the living Deadman. When I said no, he replied with I should have, I own a mirror." And Jason laughs, laughs so hard, it hurts his stomach and he's near tears.

"That's dark, Jay." Tim says, and Jason wipes his eyes.

"Oh, Timbers. I gotta laugh at his jokes. Or else he'll throw a tantrum and that crowbar will be wedged between my skull." Jason explains, Joker slapping Jay on the back.

"Just trying to turn you into the headless horseman." And again Joker laughs, and again Jason laughs, holding on to his stomach as a pain makes him gasp for air.

Someone steadies him, Jason trying to pull free. But goddamn, if his stomach doesn't hurt like a bitch.

"Get the bucket! Get it now!" Someone shouts, shoving a metal gray bucket under Jason’s face.

Jason vomits his lungs out, the acrid taste in the back of his throat forcing him to spew out even more. He's broken out in a sweat, staring at the Joker who's laughing at Jason’s pain, all the time, EVERY TIME.

When he's done, he feels lightheaded and so tired, leaning back on the couch. A cold rag covered his forehead and eyes, his breathing shallow and fast.

There's a prick on his arm and he passes out.

There's a pounding in the back of his eyes when he wakes up. Jason is back in his room and his body feels so heavy.

"Holy...crap." Jason says, trying to sit up.

"Take it easy, son." Bruce says, Jason moving his head to stare at him.

Bruce looks tired...haggard. And it looks like he's been sitting on that chair all night.

"Dad?" Jason croaks out, his mouth dry and his tongue heavy.

"I'm here Jason. I'm here." Bruce replied, patting Jason on the knee.

As Bruce comes into focus, others move. Dick stands next to Bruce, followed by Tim then Damian.

Damian actually looks like he's been crying. This alarms Jason. Very rare has he seen the teen cry.

"Who died?" Jason asks, and Damian shakes his head, Dick putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

"No one. No one at all." Dick assures.

Jason’s not sure why they're being affectionate or what happened yesterday.

But he decides to accept it.

Nothing wrong with a bit of affection from them.

I awfully need a fic, where Jason gets drugged by a big dose of fear toxin and starts seeing Joker's hallucination around — kind of like Bruce in Arkham Knight game, you know — and everyone is just... confused what to do with all of it?

They can't really produce antidote because it would fuck up his mind more, so he is stuck in the cave for the next 24 hours, and no one is leaving, because they can't allow Jason to go through this alone. Again.

Jason tries to put a brave face of course (god, he is THE Red Hood, one of the most influential people in the Gotham, he can't be afraid of a stupid clown–) but the more hours pass, the less he can control his fear or anxiety. Instead of pacing around like a ghost — he did that in the first four hours — he sits down on the couch, hugs himself, and starts answering to Joker?

Yeah, he knows he is not real. He understands that feeding hallucination with conversations will not help — and Dick, the ultimate expert in handling hallucinations, really, gave him some tips on what to do — but he can't just ignore it now.

He is too scared.

He remembers what comes if he flips off Joker or stops playing by his rules, alright?

"Knock, knock!"

Joker's face is as pale and terrifying as Jason remembers it to be. And maybe it is hallucination, but he still can feel his panted, hot breath on his ear.

He is alone, of course. Or not entirely alone, but others would notice if Joker was really here, right?

"Who is this?" He whispers, sensing his family tensing a little, not being sure what to expect.

Jason either argues with his hallucination or asks to stop. Or maybe just wordlessly scraps on his temples or cheek, in the place the J scar used to be, before the Lazarus Pit erased it from his body completely, leaving no traces.

"The stray dog that can't bark! Do you know why it can not bark, Jayjay?"

"I don't fucking know," he murmurs, but the fiericness with which he screamed at this man for hours now is gone; he sounds tired even to his own ears, and it is embarrassing. "Tell me."

"Because I broke its bones with a crowbar, silly!~" Joker shakes his shoulders, and Jason can practically feel the familiar ache of shattered bones. "It– Ahahah, it is too hurt to bark! It can only whine!"

Jason laughs.

His facial expression doesn't really change — he is still frowning a little — but he laughs with a painful wheeze. Joker is pleased enough to sigh dreamily in his ear.

Good job, Jason.

"What so funny?" Dick asks carefully, a patient smile on his face — he has been trying to distract him with conversations the most; Bruce prefers to keep his silence, and Tim thinks accidental physical touches help more than talking.

"He just said a joke," Jason shrugs weakily.

"Tell it to them," Joker orders. "Let us all laugh."

He doesn't really want to. But he can't disobey. He can't allow himself to die again, and–

"Knock, knock," he clears up his throat.

"Who is this?" Tim echoes, turning his chair to him, smart eyes scanning him up and down.

"The stray dog that can't bark," Jason tugs the tips of his own hair. "Do you know why it can not bark?"

Bruce tenses in his chair. He tenses in a way, Jason thinks, he already knows this joke; he has already heard it before. He almost looks as if he wants to stop him, cut mid-sentence.

But for some reason, he doesn't.

"Uh, why?" Dick tilts his head.

"Because my– its bones are broken," Jason stutters. "You know, dogs can't really bark when they are hurt? Just whine."

He can't bring himself to laugh again, even though Joker keeps giggling over and over.

"That's not funny, Jay," Tim murmurs.

"Yeah. I guess it isn't. But if I don't laugh, he'll get the crowbar again, and I really, really want to keep barking," Jason smiles.

He tries to ignore pitful glances of his family members, and the torture continues. No one breaks his bones this time, but Jason still whines when Bruce hugs him by the end of the night, pressing to his chest.

Joker is not here anymore, but Jason still can hear his taunting whisper, somewhere in the back of his head.

You will die his son.

[katebishopsbaefy]

No Thinking

billie eilish x reader

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

summary: you break a "rule" and billie deals with you.

warnings: basically pure smut, mean!billie, dumbification, teasing, overstimulation, pussy slaps, crying

words: 1163

a/n: katebishopsbaefy posting three times in one week?? unheard of💩 but i've had an ear infection all week so i've had lots of time to write!! i also have a few asks, so those'll hopefully get done soon. please keep sending them they're so much fun!! also billie's haircut looks so good?? i don't understand why we're all hating???

Billie's been away for the past few weeks, out on her tour with her friends. Of course, you’ve loved seeing her so happy and excited to be on the road for once, but that doesn’t mean you hadn’t missed her terribly. You’d been so lonely all alone in the big house, and all of those photos and videos in your hidden folder had just been too tempting; you couldn’t resist.

You and Billie had made a half-assed agreement a while ago about not touching yourselves when the other was away. It wasn’t really meant to be a real rule; it was just something you’d seen on some porn website, and you thought it might be fun to try.

You definitely hadn’t thought it all the way through.

When she came home, just a little over two hours ago, things had gotten heated between you so quickly. Her lips were all over your mouth, your neck, your chest, anywhere she could reach. 

“God, I missed you s’much” she mumbled against your cleavage as she sucked a dark purple bruise into the soft skin. You tugged on her dark hair, and whatever response you’d been about to mutter quickly turned into a gasp when you felt her start to swirl her tongue around your nipple, and then suck sharply. She must’ve really missed you.

She’d settled you on the bed, all fluffed up with blankets and pillows. She might’ve missed you, she might’ve wanted you so bad she could’ve burst, but she’d always make sure you’re comfortable first. You'd kissed for a while until she’d gotten too impatient to wait, so she kissed her way down your body, between your breasts, across your stomach, ending with some soft sucks to your thighs. She gently pushed them open, and mumbled against them, “You been good f’me?”

You understood exactly what she meant. No, you haven’t been good for her. It was just so hard, having no one to touch you for weeks. You had to do it yourself…but all you’ve ever wanted was to be good for her, so you nodded your head, your mumbled words coming out more slurred and sloppy than hers, “Mhm. Been good, promise.”

But when she’d feel the slight resistance of you trying to keep your legs shut, you knew you’d been caught. “C’mon, babygirl… lemme see,” she murmured in that soft, but patronizing tone that always had you stuttering and blushing. And of course, you folded.

Her hands slowly pushed your thighs apart, revealing your soaking wet heat. Her eyes had visibly darkened, her finger traced up and down your slit. It was like she’d forgotten that she was teasing you for a moment, so entranced by you, so unable to keep her hands off of you. An audibly shaky breath would pull her back to reality.

She’d slowly pushed a finger in you as her eyes met yours, and you’d immediately recognized that look on her face. She’d seen right through your lie. She’d be able to feel it.

“Aw, baby…”, she murmured in that tone, the one that made it feel like she was talking down to you (which she was). Her finger gently felt around, enough to make you clench, but she’d still been able to tell what you’d done. “Feels like you’ve been touchin’ yourself… have you? You been stretchin’ out your needy little hole while I was gone?”

 Your head was nodding along before you even realized what was happening. It’s just the way she talks to you, like she’s poking fun. It folds you right in half.

Billie softly clicked her tongue at you, and the tears sprang into your eyes when her finger traveled to your clit. She’d gotten you right where she wanted you; so overwhelmed you can't even think. And it’d only been a few minutes of teasing.

“You know the rules. Couldn’t’ve waited a few days f’me to get back? You’re that needy?” she teased, and you whined, already slipping into that headspace she loves to put you in where all you can do is feel. 

When her finger started to trace circles into your clit, you whined again and gazed up at her with dark, tearful eyes. “I-I’m sor-”, you started, but she cut you off with a sharp slap to your cunt. One physical act of humiliation among a sea of verbal jabs. You whimpered and jolted like usual, immediately closing your mouth.

“Nuh uh, no thinkin’, baby. Too dumb f’that right now. Just needa have your pussy fixed…”, she mumbled so sweetly, so cruelly, and you shivered at the implication. She was going to make you come until you were tight again.

She rubbed your clit until you were shaking and crying, making you finish one, two, three times. Making you finish until she was satisfied.

And now, after what’s felt like hours of abuse on your clit, she’s finally decided to move on.

She pulls her finger away, and gently taps your nub with it, just to watch your legs twitch. To make sure you're sensitive enough. Her finger finds its way back down to your hole, gently pushing into you in a way that makes you tense and whimper. And she grins that stupid, cheesy, lopsided grin that makes your stomach flip. She looks so sweet, but so mean.

Her fingers wrap around yours, leading your hand down your body until she’s separating your middle and ring finger from the rest. Before you even know what's happening, she’s guiding your two fingers into your pussy, and a matching pair of her fingers are holding the back of yours to force them against that spot that makes you see stars. Of course, you whine and squirm, much too overwhelmed and overstimulated to have four fingers pressed into you. You’re too tight to be so full. But, of course, she holds you down.

“Mmm… now you’re all nice ‘nd tight again. Feel it, babygirl?”, she teases, her voice dripping with soft cruelty as she fucks your fingers into you. When you don’t respond, she takes her thumb and grinds it against your swollen clit, hard enough to make you jolt and scream. Eyes fly open and fill with a fresh set of tears as you nod at her. Your chest rises and falls heavily with each breath, your hair is all messy from so much squirming, your red eyes brim with tears, and the sight just makes her groan. 

“Think we gotta stretch you out again, mama,” she murmurs, her lips finding their way to your cheek to kiss away your tears. It’s so sickly sweet compared to the way she’s started to pound into you. You hadn’t even realized, but she’d pulled your fingers out and replaced them with all four of her own, intent on making you scream and cry until you passed out. And after just a few more rounds, she succeeds.

Maybe you should’ve thought twice about making that dumb rule with her.

[c4toru]

loverboy toji enjoys showin his pretty girlfriend how much he loves her >.<

the two of you had just argued over something minuscule causing you to give toji the silent treatment. you know your dear boyfriend cares for you, you still wonder if he loves.. you. toji knows the perfect solution to showing you just how much he appreciates you!

you’re flat on your stomach, toji’s full weight on top of you in prime prone bone position. both of his giant muscular arms wrapping themselves around your precious face, your chin resting perfectly in between the crevices of his arm, putting you in a mean headlock as his other hand pushes your soft hair out of your face.

“f-fuck toji nngh s’too much!” you moan, feeling his hot breath flow across your nape. he’s pounding so very deep into you, his plump shaft hammering its way towards your g-spot. “nuh uh. . . h-hah my pretty girl needs to understand how much i love her, right?” he’s pulling all the way out , slapping his flushed mushroom tip onto your puffy clit before sliding his cock right back into you. he’s stretching you out justtt right

“hnngh d-don’t stop pleasee o. . .ohh” your hands latch onto his arm, instilling that harsh grip his bicep has onto your head. you’re nearly delirious feeling his balls slap against your ass as he’s giving you these long harsh strokes. “m’gonna cum t-toji.. fuuuck ah!” you mewl out as he picks up his pace, slamming his weighty cock into your sobbing cunt.

“mhmm, y-yeah give it all t’me, cum alllll over ya boyfie toji- heh..” he grumbles, his balls tightening as your sloppy pussy swallows him.. stroke after stroke. “inside p-pleasee- nngh i wanna feel you inside hah!” your mouth is hanging open, high off the way his thick cock is reaching all the crevices within your soaked pussy.

“inside? can’t tell if that’s you or her speakin- nghh shiit” he’s rutting his hips, feeling you tightening around him sweetly. “i wan’ it! h-hah- fuckk m’gonna cum mmh!” you whine, seeing literal stars, feelin tojis grip tightening around your neck. your cunt is gushing all around his weighty cock. “shiiit girl.. f-feels so good— m’gonna cum in this filthy pussy- fuck!” he moans into your ear, his cum spurting deep inside of you, your glossy lips are trembling in euphoria.

his hips stutter, grinding against your ass trying to shove his cum as far as he can inside you, overstimulating you in the process. “y’er gonna kill me pretty girl- hah.. you feel good? hmm?” he whispers into your ear, releasing your delicate head from his chokehold. “mngh.. y-yeah love you tojiii.. so much” you’re whimpering , tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you wait for a response from him. he slips himself out, causing you to wince, using whatever body strength he has left in him to flip you over. he cups your face before peppering it with kisses. “love ya, ‘kay?” he stares into your eyes as you bring your soft hands to his face, your thumb caressing the jagged scar on his lip before you give him a wet kiss.

you knew your boyfriend loved you, you just wanted to see how far he would go to show it! point proven :p

a/n : i love sweetie pie toji ughh.. thank you for all the reblogs <3 i listened to ‘pour up’ by dean while writing this, would def recommend :p | not proofread ofc

[00valentina-writes00]

✞⛧ Fragile Moments ✞⛧

Warnings: physical threat, vulnerability, arguing, violence implied but not enacted, fear, tension, hurt/comfort

Word count: 1.2k

The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife, the silence pressing down on you both like a weight you couldn’t escape. You had been arguing for what felt like hours, voices raised, hearts pounding, words sharper than they’d ever been between you. Sevika stood in front of you, her arms crossed over her broad chest, her usually calm demeanor cracked under the pressure. Her dark eyes, always so full of control and understanding, were now clouded with frustration. Every word that left your mouth seemed to make her grow more and more distant, her posture stiffening as if preparing for something—preparing to give up on you.

“You’re not listening to me, Sevika!” Your voice cracked, the hurt in your words betraying the strength you were trying to muster. “I told you how I feel, and you’re acting like I’m just—just some annoyance to deal with.”

Sevika’s jaw clenched, her muscles visibly tensing. She was holding herself together, barely, but there was a sharp edge to her voice now that was unmistakable. “You think I’m not trying? You think I’m just ignoring you?” Her words were heavy, biting, but there was a flicker of something else beneath the surface—a vulnerability she kept locked behind her tough exterior. “I’m not the one who doesn’t get it. Maybe I’m just tired of always having to walk on eggshells around you.”

The words stung more than they should have, and before you could stop yourself, a sharp intake of breath followed by the burning sting of tears blurred your vision. Your chest tightened, emotions crashing over you, pulling at the carefully built walls you had around your heart. You didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to show her that she had that power over you, but the fight felt like it was everything and nothing at once.

“I’m not asking for you to walk on eggshells,” you choked out, stepping backward in frustration, your hands trembling at your sides. “I’m asking for you to just… hear me out, Sevika. To just understand. Why is that so hard?”

The silence between you both deepened, and you could feel the space growing wider. Sevika’s fists clenched at her sides, her nails digging into her palms, her breath steady but heavy. She was trying to hold her ground, but the shift in her energy was palpable. The woman in front of you—always so composed, so strong—was now a ticking time bomb, ready to explode. You could see it in the tightness of her shoulders, the twitch of her fingers, like she was barely keeping her cool.

Before you could say anything more, before you could try to make things right, Sevika’s eyes flashed with something dangerous. The air seemed to crackle, the room suffocating with the weight of her gaze. “You want to understand?” she growled, her voice low and controlled. “You think you can just demand that from me?”

A flicker of fear darted across your chest, but you stood your ground, looking up at her. “I’m not demanding anything. I just want you to listen to me. To see me.”

Sevika’s face twisted, a dark look shadowing her features as she stepped closer, her boots thudding against the floor with authority. You didn’t back away. You couldn’t. Not now. But when she raised her hand, the intention in her movements hit you like a slap to the face. She was angry, more angry than you’d ever seen her before, and for a moment, you thought she might actually hit you.

Your breath caught in your throat, your body tensing in preparation for the blow that you thought would come. The thought of it made your stomach drop, a flash of panic surging through you. Your eyes shut instinctively, the fear taking hold before your brain could process the reality of what was happening.

But then, just as quickly as she had raised her hand, Sevika paused. Her entire body froze mid-motion, her hand hanging in the air between you both. The intensity in her gaze faltered for a second, and something unreadable flashed in her eyes—a mix of regret, disbelief, and maybe even a little horror. She stood there for a long, agonizing moment, her arm hovering just inches away from you.

You flinched, the fear still rooted deep in your chest, your whole body instinctively pulling away from her. “Sevika, please,” you whispered, your voice cracking. The vulnerability you felt now was more than you had ever shown her. “Don’t…”

She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. She just stared at you, her chest rising and falling with each deep breath. The anger that had been written all over her face began to melt away, replaced by something far more fragile.

“Fuck,” Sevika muttered under her breath, her hand dropping to her side with a dull thud. She took a step back, running her fingers through her hair in a frustrated, defeated motion. “I’m not gonna hit you.” Her voice was barely audible, the words falling from her lips like a weight.

You stood there, still trembling, your heart racing in your chest as you tried to process what had just happened. The tension between you both was so thick you could taste it. The moment hung in the air like a fragile thing, ready to shatter if either of you moved wrong.

But Sevika didn’t move. She stood there, silent, her eyes softening just a fraction as she took in the way you were looking at her. The pain, the hurt, the fear—you saw it all reflected back in her gaze, and for a moment, you didn’t know if you should speak or stay silent.

“I didn’t mean it,” Sevika’s voice was low, almost broken. “I wasn’t gonna hit you, but I—I lost control.”

Your heart twisted at the sound of her words, the vulnerability in her voice cracking through the walls that had been so carefully built between you both. You didn’t know what to say, but you knew you couldn’t let this go. Not now. Not when you felt the weight of her regret pressing against you like a tidal wave.

Taking a step forward, you reached out, your fingers brushing against the side of her arm. “Sevika,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I know you’re angry, but please, don’t ever—”

She closed the space between you, her hands resting on your shoulders gently, almost as if afraid you might pull away again. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, her voice rough with emotion. “I’m sorry I scared you.”

You looked up at her, seeing the remorse in her eyes, the rawness in her expression. It was a side of Sevika that you rarely saw—vulnerable, uncertain, and desperately trying to make things right. You wanted to tell her that you were okay, that you understood, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, your fingers curling around her wrist, grounding yourself in her presence.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Sevika whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I swear I don’t.”

The weight of her words settled over you, and for a moment, you let the silence stretch between you, the only sound the quiet rhythm of your breathing. Sevika’s presence was a comfort, even when things were messy and raw.

[ggirlthatgotaway]

Not Cold Any Longer (modern au)

summary: Aemond is that guy you’ve known since you were kids, the one you’ve never talked to and that had gotten fucking weird. But you end up becoming friends, and you find out that not only he’s right about your shit boyfriend, but also that he’s a fucking ride that can keep you boiling hot all the time.

trigger warning: explicit language, mention of useless men, mention of Franz Ferdinand, sexual content, name calling, choking, slapping, loving, maybe other things.

word count: 6.2k

note: Aemond is not hotd-Aemond but the FontainesDC-hottie-freak (fuck me<3) . also english is my 3rd language and i haven’t written a complete smut since i was 13 (read, don’t judge) so yeah do tell me what you think

-💎

The cold air of the night was hitting your face, and it stung your skin despite your best efforts to hide it in the collar of your jacket. You didn’t want to go back home, you wanted to keep walking, to go to him.

From your house to his, there was a six-minute drive, which meant a forty-five-minute walk for someone who walked quickly. Perfect, you thought to yourself as you glanced around the dark street, not a sound to be heard.

Your mind raced back to earlier that day, to the reason why you were walking to his house. His words replayed in your mind over and over: “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?” he had shouted, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open, but a hint of sadness was lacing them. He had tried to hide it, as always, like the rest of his emotions.

He had already told you that you were able to understand him despite his precautions- “I don’t fancy how ye keep readin’ me mind, love.” he had said with a soft grin and happy eyes. But that was a completely different circumstance; it was something light, about why he had started inviting you to gigs instead of bringing his friend, Sal.

Anyway, him telling you that you didn’t understand had your heart twisting in pain, both when those words had left his mouth and when you thought about them again.

He had gotten angry because of what you’d told him had happened with Ed, your boyfriend. His eyes had widened when you told him he’d left you waiting for an hour yesterday, because he ‘got distracted with his friends, and forgot to pick you up from your shift’. It was your anniversary.

But that wasn’t why Aemond had shouted to you that you didn’t understand- that came after. Earlier today, your phone had rang with his call: he had told you he was nearby, that his Ma had asked him to buy some bread before leaving for her shift, and if you minded if he stayed over a bit.

Spending time with him had become the highlight of your day recently, so a smile had curved your lips as you told him yes. He had arrived with a CD in his hands, “I know you like this shit.” he told you then, showing you the new album by Franz Ferdinand you had been planning to buy for weeks now.

You had gasped, and started covering his cheeks with kisses despite his half-hearted efforts to get away from your grip- half-hearted because his arm had already sneaked to hold your waist. “You’re mental.” you had told him with wide eyes, but he had just tutted and shrugged, leaving the CD on your desk and throwing himself on your bed.

“How did it go with the eejit?” he had asked you then, referring to Ed and your anniversary. His arm had been covering his eyes, but he took it away and looked at you when you hadn’t answered. “What did he do?” he had asked with a sigh.

You had briefly glanced at him before letting your gaze fall on the white and burgundy sheets of your bed. He wasn’t one who let go of this kind of things- not with you, at least- and you had known an answer was necessary if you weren’t planning on having him shut up and stare into your eyes for three hours.

So you had sighed heavily and brought your eyes back on his, “He didn’t show up.”

At your words, he had looked like he had stopped breathing. Then, he’d sunken his teeth into his lips, closed his eyes and let out a low and deep breath. “You’re aware he’s still breathing because you want him to?”

His eyes had opened again, and he’d directed them to you, waiting for your answer. When you’d nodded, he had continued: “Changed your mind?” he’d asked you, his tone slightly pleading, with a hint of hope. But you’d shaken your head.

You had seen his eyes closing again, and he’s let out another deep breath. “What did you do, then?”

“I walked.”

Silence had filled the air between you two once again, until he’d straightened up and sat on the edge of your bed. He had ran a hand on his face and settled his elbows on his knees, “You walked… Didn’t call me?”

“It’s just a ten minute walk.” you had tried to explain with a shake of your head, but he had stopped you.

“And now your throat aches.”

You had bitten the inside of your cheek at that. You were always cold, always wore two pairs of trousers to go to school, always had as many blankets as possible on your bed. Aemond knew, and each time you stepped foot into his house he had the kettle on, and the blanket that held the most warmth was folded and waiting on the couch, and he asked you right away if you wanted that ugly but incredibly warm sweater he never wore.

“It doesn’t.” you had told him, and it was true, because you were still healing from the last time you had the flue, and your antibodies were still strong.

“Mh.” he had said, nodding. You had never seen anger simmering quite as much as it did in him in that moment. “Why don’t you fucking leave him, mh? Still fuckin’ think he deserves you?” he had said, his voice rising at every word. “I’m genuinely curious, love- tell me.”

“Aemond…” you had said, interrupting yourself with a sigh. He had got up from the bed and walked over to the window, leaning his hands on the ledge. “I like him when he’s with me.”

“Well, that’s a fucking pathetic thing to say.” he had told you before turning around, his eyes as hard as ice, “That’s because you can’t find a bloody nice thing to say ‘bout him.”

“He’s still me boyfriend, though-“ you had tried to say before his shouts filled the room.

“And he shouldn’t fuckin’ be! It’s your fault he still is,” he had said, pointing a finger in your direction, “and it makes me fucking mental just thinking about it.”

“Then don’t, Aemond! It’s none of your fucking business!” you had tried to retort, but you had told it to yourself how daft your words had sounded, since it was Aemond the one always available to listen to you yap about how shite Ed made you feel while barely containing tears in your eyes.

“Shut up, don’t even fucking play this card with me!” he had yelled at you before taking a deep breath and pushing his black hair out of his face. That still hadn’t tamed the tone of his voice when he’d spoken again, “Don’t you fuckin’ understand?! Really?!” his eyes had been wide as he looked at you with a hint of desperation in hie voice, a hand held out to you in hope.

But your brows had furrowed, and your eyes had expressed nothing but confusion as you’d looked at him.

His hand had fallen and slapped his thigh, “Leave him, or don’t fucking talk to me again.”

He had walked away then, leaving you with wide eyes and the security that those words weren’t what he had been thinking about when he had told you that you didn’t understand.

And you admitted it to yourself as you walked to Aemond’s house at midnight, with the freezing cold of February seeping into your bones, that you might have waited a bit much to act on whatever you needed to act on.

But you did pat yourself on the shoulder for the strong punch you’d landed on Ed’s nose about an hour ago- which, in all honesty, was something you’d learnt from Aemond and the lessons he gave you so you could ‘have a wee chance to survive if they attacked you on the street’, if someone was to say it with his words.

After you had exited Ed’s house, a mischievous grin plastered on your lips, your thoughts had gone to Aemond right away, thinking about his laugh when you would have told him what you’d done. Your smile had fallen.

But it was fine, you told yourself as you walked faster in the dark night, because you were going to fix everything.

The truth was, you had never felt quite as empty as you did when Aemond had left your room that evening. And you had already known there that you needed to go to Ed’s and leave him- which you realised hurt your hand way more than it did your heart.

Aemond was right. Fucking Aemond Targaryen, the lad that wanted to talk to nobody at school except for you and Sal Quinn, the one that wanted no glimpse of a relationship, was right.

You needed to walk faster.

You took out your phone and flipped it open, pondering on whether or not to call him and ask him to pick you up on the street where Mae Allbrook lived. Realising that would have needed to stay still for at least three minutes as you waited for him, you flipped your phone closed and put it back into the pocket of your jeans.

You definitely didn’t do it because Aemond would have screamed at you for the entire ride back to his house- or better yet, for the ride and for the ten minutes he’d spend heating your hands up by rubbing them between his.

No, it was better to make your grand entrance at his house and have him freak out there, while you sat in front of the fire in his living room.

You let out a sigh when you saw the old, ruined red car, weakly lit by the nearby light pole. You almost ran to the door and jumped over the low gate, before taking out your phone again.

“Aemond,” you said when he answered. You heard the sigh he let out, and you understood how affected he, too, was about what had happened earlier that day. “I’m outside.”

He didn’t close the call after those words left your mouth, but you heard a stomp, and understood that he hadn’t even closed the call before launching himself off his bed and running downstairs.

The front door swung open in front of you, making your hair fly in front of your face. He didn’t wait for you to step inside, deciding instead to take matters into his own hands and grab your jacket to pull you in roughly.

Before you knew, he was muttering to himself behind you, his hands passing over your thighs over and over to heat them up. “You feel your hands yet?” he asked gruffly, not even trying to hide how he still remembered your last conversation word by word.

You nodded and said, “I’m not that cold.” but he tutted and shook his head, not believing a word. “Care to tell me the fuck you’re doing?” he finally asked.

“Apologising.” you answered after some seconds, slightly distracted by the way his wide palms transferred heat into the skin of your thighs. “You were right.”

You turned your head to look at him behind you, and he let out a sigh, stilling his movements and leaving his hands on the top of your legs. He threatened to move them to your hips, his movements slow and unsure, before his warm palms left your body and he got up on his feet, making you look at him from the floor, “I’m tired. Tell me if I have to bring you home or you crash here.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, getting up from the floor and grabbing your own arm with a hand. “Can I stay over?”

You saw the hesitation in his eyes as they met yours, but then he nodded towards the stairs, and you followed him to his room.

“Change.” he told you with an assertive tone once you reached his room, putting a hand in his wardrobe and throwing that ugly sweater and a pair of sweatpants at you.

You pressed your lips together to stifle a grin at his annoyed actions. But as you went to the bathroom to change, you couldn’t help but think about what his expression would be like when you finally told him.

His room was always quite dark and warm, and the dim light that came from the tank he kept Vhagar in made everything seem blue.

You approached him slowly, nibbling at the skin inside your lower lip as his eyes went from the ash tray set on his nightstand to you.

You could see the smoke of his Benson and Hedges coming out of his nose and going upwards. “Come here.” he said then, slightly defeated, but only half-heartedly.

So you climbed onto his bed and he reached out with a hand to touch your waist. “Still cold…” he muttered to himself before deciding to bring you closer to him.

He put off his cigarette on the ashtray and held you with his arms wrapped around you, a hand on the curve of your hip. “I’m sorry.” you told him, looking in his blue eyes you couldn’t quite see.

He didn’t say anything about your apology, but you felt his hand twitch on your hip. “What did you think you were doing, walking alone at this time?”

His features were lightened by those soft blue hues, making the sharp angles of his face even more so. You raised your hand and trailed your finger on his cheekbone. His skin was hot, and you felt him stop breathing at your touch. Your hand dropped back on the bed, “I left him.”

You started to worry when you didn’t see him starting to breathe again, but then he talked, “You’re not lying?”

When you shook your head in no, his hand tightened on your hip drastically. “Fuckin’ finally.” he said, letting out a deep breath. “What did he do?”

“Nothing,” you said with a shrug, “He just sat there, holding his nose after I punched him.”

You saw Aemond’s eyes widen, and the corners of his mouth curled up until they formed a wide grin. He started laughing, his chest shaking as he shook his head. “Wonderful woman…” he muttered, leaning his mouth on your shoulder, making goosebumps spread wildly on your skin.

He started caressing your hip then, going dangerously close to your arse as he always did. But still, what you felt was a deep sense of peace there: at his house, in his arms, surrounded by the smell of smoke and green tea that clung to his skin.

You’d known each other since you were kids, since way before he had started dying his hair black and got into the metal music he had definitely been listening to before you called him.

But you had never really talked until four months ago. You had your friends, he had his, all outside of school, and you both had never bothered trying to talk. It had all changed in a matter of days after an English Literature project.

It felt weird when you thought about it, trusting someone the way you did him after so few time, even if you’d known him for ever, because you’d never really talked.

“You know I love you, right?” you said then. It was out of the blue, really, but you couldn’t help it.

Those three words seemed to hit him more than you intended them to. He paused the movement of his hand on your hips and cleared his throat, straightening himself slightly. He still didn’t answer, though, but simply sighed and left a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t care about you saying it back: I just want you to know I love you.” you said hurriedly but calmly, distancing yourself slightly to look at him, finally able to do it properly since your eyes adjusted to the dark.

He let out a snorted laugh at your words, and shook his head. “D’you think I don’t love you?” he asked you, his voice low and husky. His grip on your hip tugged you close so you were sitting on top of him, “That’s not the problem, princess.”

“I don’t understand-“ you tried to argue, but he laughed again, interrupting you.

“You do, love… You do.” he said before leaning close to your ear. His nose brushed against your earlobe, his lips against your jaw as his breath ghosted your skin and he murmured lowly, “You got me wrapped around your finger... Got me doing whatever you want me to.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Your hand was gripping his shoulder and your nails were definitely digging in his skin through his sweater, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“And now…” he whispered , interrupting himself to let out an unironic laugh and shaking his head. “Now you’re sitting on my lap, pretending not to notice how fucking hard my cock is for you.”

You were breathing fast, so fast you felt the blood pumping in your ears, and his words did nothing to quell that. His smirk remained on his lips as he brought his cold blue eyes back to yours.

He tilted his head to the side, a strand of his dark, dyed hair falling over his eyes. “What do you plan on doing about it, then?” he asked, the teasing tone still present. But the way his eyes darkened, the way his grip on your hip tightened, told a different story.

Was it real what he’d said? That he loved you, craved you so much that his cock was rock hard after barely five minutes of you sitting on him?

“About…” you said, pressing your lips together, trying to gather the courage to complete the sentence. You found it when the corner of his mouth quirked up again and both his hands found their way to your arse, squeezing it and pulling you flush against him. The action made you let out a small sigh, but you decided not to let yourself fear him, so you raised a hand and brought the strand of black hair away from his face. “What do I plan on doing about your cock?” you said in a whisper.

His mouth curved into a smirk and he breathed out another laugh due to your words. He was usually the dirty one, even if you still didn’t exactly know how dirty he was. “Yeah, ‘bout that…” he confirmed with two slight nods of his head. “Now that you’re fully aware of what you do to me.” he added, letting out a deep breath.

One hand remained firm on your arse, keeping you right where he wanted you, while the other moved up to your face. He traced the line of your jaw with his thumb, feeling the softness of your skin and the pulse quickening beneath it. In that moment, all the cold you had felt as you had walked to his house for forty minutes was completely forgotten, disappeared in your mind like ash after a breath.

“What do you think I should do?” you asked, swallowing harshly. You suddenly felt stupid for the question, and you did even more when he snorted out another laugh.

He leaned forward, his lips dangerously close to your ear. "Why don't ye use your imagination, Princess?" he whispered huskily. The hand on your face slid back, cupping your cheek as his thumb continued to brush against your lower lip.

“Okay…” you whispered out in a breath as you nodded. Then you slowly leaned into the brief distance that separated you two, brushing your lips against his before pressing them into a kiss.

It was rushed, definitely stupid, but you wanted to try and see how it felt. His lips had always looked rough to you, chipped and bloodied in winter, but now, against yours, they were soft, boiling hot, sweet and incredibly inviting.

His hand tightened its grip on your arse, pulling you even closer to his body as his other hand tangled itself in your hair, angling your head for better access to your mouth.

His kiss was even gentle, which surprised you, but more than anything it made you want more. When his grip on your hair tightened and pulled on it just enough to make you wet but not enough to hurt excessively, a moan came up your throat and overturned into his mouth.

He pulled away before capturing your lower lip between his teeth and letting it go. His hand slapped your arse, making you jolt forward and making him laugh. “Slut.” he muttered, closing the distance between you two again.

You let out a chuckle against his lips, and started grinding your hips against his. Right away, he groaned and pulled you closer still, eagerly helping you with your movements.

His other hand moved from your cheek to your neck, fingers gripping gently but firmly. "Is that what you want, princess?" he growled, breaking the kiss briefly to let you breathe. His eyes bore into yours, dark with lust. "You want to feel me inside you?" he asked, voice strained and husky.

You were slightly startled by his hand around your throat, by his thumb stroking your pulse point like it was the most fragile and precious thing in his world. You bit your lower lip and your hands wrapped around the wrist of the hand that was holding you, which made his lips part in what looked like feral hunger, before nodding.

Your response was everything he needed to hear. His hand on your neck tightened slightly as he claimed your mouth once more, kissing you harder. His hips thrust upward, pushing his erection against your core, as if to emphasize his words. He let go of your hair, his hand trailing down your back until it reached your waist.

His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, nipping at your skin before tracing a scorching path down to your neck. He loved the way you moaned when he bit you there, and he did so again, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. "Fuck…" he breathed against your skin, his fingers digging into your waist. He seemed to need to feel you, to make sure this whole thing was real. "Use your words, Princess."

A whine escaped your lips before you were able to reply, and you felt completely daft other then drenched between your thighs. “Yes,” you said, your words like a plea, “I want you inside of me.”

His eyes bore in yours for two seconds before he pushed you off him, making you land on your hands on the mattress. He pulled himself up, standing on his knees on the bed, “Take your clothes off.” he ordered with a nod of his head as he stared down at you, his tone leaving no space for arguing.

With a heavy chest, mouth parted and eyes wide, you complied. You unzipped his black jumper, trying not to be clumsy as you slipped it off your arms.

Still, Aemond seemed unable to wait, because he quickly threw the jumper off the bed before his fingers found the bow you tied to the string of his sweatpants.

He undid it as you took your shirt off. “How many fuckin’ pair of trousers you’ve got on?!” he growled, both bothered and amused when he found a pair of leggings under the sweats.

You let out a chuckle as he did the same, shaking his head as he pulled the first layer of fabric off roughly, before doing the same with the second.

He stopped when you were left with only your underwear, and he stared bluntly, pressing his lips together as his chest raised and fell heavily.

You moved your right leg to brush its calf against his clothed thigh, your eyes on his. His hissed in a breath, his hand gripping your thigh like he wanted to rip off the meat to eat it. “It’s your turn.” you whispered as you let your leg wander higher.

The action gained you his grip to tighten and a slap to be delivered to your thigh. But he complied, pulling his t-shirt off from the collar and blindly throwing it somewhere before pulling down his trousers.

He put a hand on your knee and settled between your thighs, crushing his mouth against yours once again. The roughness of Aemond's touch sent sparks flying across your skin, igniting a fire within you that burned out of control. He pressed you further into the mattress, his body aligning perfectly with yours. You could feel every inch of his bare torso, each ripple of muscle and scar, his heat enveloping you like a living flame.

His grip on your thigh loosened and his fingers went up until they reached you inner thigh, teasing you as if he wasn’t dying for it. You whined against his mouth, squirming under his touch.

He chuckled against your mouth, and he gave into your desires in a matter of seconds, sliding his hand inside your drenched knickers and exploring your folds. He breathed heavily on your wet lips after he had to break the kiss. He looked at you as he slipped a finger inside, and watched intently as your face contorted in pleasure.

“Think, Princess…” he drawled, his lips brushing against yours before doing the same on your cheek. He added another finger, making you let out a moan. “Think of each touch I give you tonight…”

He stopped his movements temporarily, taking his fingers out and making you gasp, to grab the sides of your knickers and pull them down and off roughly.

His mouth reached your neck while his fingers found your cunt once again, entering you in such a beautiful way your eyes rolled back. He started pumping his fingers in and out roughly, making your breath catch in your throat before it came out in a broken scream.

“Think of this, and then back at that fuckin’ halfwit that you let inside this beautiful cunt.”

Your wetness was completely coating his fingers at that point, and he seemed to enjoy it like nothing else, or so it seemed as you looked at him through half-closed eyelids.

He continued his assault, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing circular motions on it, as his lips left kisses, hot and wet, on the skin of your neck. They made you remember how his hand felt wrapped around your throat, and you found yourself craving it once again.

The memory and the sensations he was giving you only fuelled your wetness, and your orgasm drew closer. “Aemond…” you breathed out, your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers.

Just as if he was reading your mind, his lips left the soft skin of your neck to leave space for his free hand. You let out an embarrassing whimper when his fingers wrapped securely under your jaw.

“I think you’re liking it too much…” Aemond groaned, his voice husky and gravel as his fingers worked restlessly inside your pussy. “I should stop.”

Your hand found the wrist of the hand that was holding your neck when those words left his mouth, and you let out an irritated moan, kicking his side with a trembling leg.

He let out a small laugh, his pupils so dilated that his eyes appeared black. Aemond’s fingers went faster, making you let out a strangled yell as your eyes stayed fixed on his.

Your legs threatened to close, but he avoided it by getting closer, his breath now ghosting over your face. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” he groaned, crushing your lips against his as your pussy spasmed around his long fingers.

He kept them there after you climaxed, slowing the movements of his fingers progressively before sliding them out. He brought them to his lips like an instinctive motion.

He groaned at the sight of your flushed face, your eyes glazed with pleasure, and the way your body still trembled from the orgasm he'd given you, and definitely even for the taste of you he was licking from his fingers. You bet he loved reducing you to this state - wanting, needing, begging for him.

"Fuck," he breathed out, getting off the bed and taking off his boxers. His cock was hard, veiny, and you found yourself thinking of it inside you, stretching you out while you felt every singe thing he wished you to.

He opened the drawer of the nightstand and pulled out a condom, opening the plastic with his teeth and discarding both the useless pieces carelessly on the floor. He slid it on, barely looking at what he was doing before he nodded at you, “Take that shit off.”

You furrowed your brows and looked down, noticing you still had your bra on. You were still breathing heavily, but you quickly did as he’d asked.

He moved back on the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he approached you with hunger. He was like a madman- you had never seen him like this before.

He kissed you again, hooking his hand under your right knee and folding its leg over the other. It provided him with the perfect view of your ass and face, and it seemed to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen as he broke the kiss to take a look at you.

One hand found the top of your thigh while he used the other to hold himself up on the mattress. He leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, making your hand fly to his hair and a gasp escape your throat.

His hand left your thigh and went to his cock, guiding it to your pussy. He teased your already tender flesh with his tip, making you both groan.

His mouth disclosed around your nipple and he lied his forehead against your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed out once again, shaking his head before straightening up.

His hand went back to your thigh, and he ground himself against you. His head rolled back and his eyes closed at the contact, his mouth fell agape.

And you, with his cock almost inside you and his hand pinning your body to his will, couldn’t help but look at him: at the sweat that clung to his body, at his long hair you craved to pull, at his fingers that had just made you cum like nobody ever did.

When he opened his eyes again, they locked on yours right away, staring down at you. Then, he thrust inside you in one, swift and steady motion, filling you up with his cock just like you wanted him to. You weren’t cold any longer.

You didn’t try to conceal the scream if pure pleasure that escaped your lips at his motion, and he didn’t hide his. “Shit, Aemond!” you moaned, brows furrowed as you looked up at him.

“Don’t look at me like that…” he grunted, punctuating his phrase with a thrust, making your body jolt forward despite the way his hand was holding you tightly. “I’m already trying not to cum.”

His words made you cheeks heat up and a grin spread on your lips as he began to thrust inside you. Your head fell back onto the pillow, feeling every vein on his cock despite the latex separating you- maybe you were fooling yourself, but you were fine with it.

Aemond’s thrusts left you both breathless, and filled the room with the sound of skin meeting skin in perfectly rough motions.

Nothing had ever felt as good as the feeling of him inside you, and the way you squirmed and gasped beneath him made him understand that perfectly, other than making you feel like a pathetic whore.

His hand on your thigh was leaving red marks that had the shape of his fingers, and you loved it. “Please… Harder.” you found yourself begging, and he complied.

His hand left your thigh, gave your ass a firm slap before balling into a fist and pressing into the mattress to hold him up. His other hand reached your hair and grabbed a fistful, twisting it between his fingers before tugging on it sharply, making you yelp and arch your back.

“You asked for it, pretty girl.” he said with a wicked grin, pounding into your with more force than before. His hips collided against the skin of your ass he’d just slapped, making it even redder.

In response, your hand wrapped around his arm and your nails dug into the fair skin, making him grunt and pull even harder on your hair.

He fucked you harder as a form of punishment which he knew would only make things better for both of you. “Look at me, Princess.” Aemond breathed out the order, his chest heaving and his mouth open.

When you did, he let out an uncontrolled moan and gave you a particularly hard thrust, “Who owns you now, mh?”

The dirty talk, the rough treatment - it all fueled your desire, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. That’s why your lips curved into a grin.

But he wasn’t playing, because his fist opened and he slapped your ass again, “Answer.” he ordered. There, you understood it was all about pleading you to tell him, to reassure him, that Ed was gone from your mind, that he was the one inhabiting it.

“You do.”

At your words, and your burning eyes that accompanied them, Aemond grinned, turning you onto your stomach and pulling you ass up, all without exiting your tight heat.

He pushed your hips down until your chest pressed down on the soft comforter, and he started pounding again.

The change of position made your mind go blank, and your eyes almost saw white for how deep he reached.

He leaned in, still slamming into your with from behind like wild animal- his grin gone. “Who owns you, Princess?” he asked you again with the most guttural voice you’d ever heard coming from him.

“You!” you screamed with the few air and fewer focus the new position left you, as you felt your second orgasm approach like a storm above a deep sea.

“Good girl.” Aemond breathed out, his thrusts becoming erratic and his grip tightening as he let out a loud moan. His pace quickened, his breathing turned even more ragged, and you could feel him as he started losing control.

“Aemond!” you yelled, your voice slightly muffled by the pillow pressed against your cheek.

Hearing you scream his name, seeing the pleasure on your face, sent Aemond made him go even more mental than before: he pounded into you harder, faster, the bed rocking underneath the ferocity of his movements.

And your vision narrowed, your thoughts filled only with images of him and the feeling of his cock pounding restlessly inside you as your cunt clamped down around his cock, like you wanted him stretching you wider, breaking you even more.

The sensation of your second orgasm hitting you sent him over the edge, and with few powerful thrusts and a low growl, he came, filling the condom up to the brim.

Spent, he let himself fall on the bed, careful not to hurt you as he pulled out and wrapped his arms around your waist, making your back press against his chest.

He buried his face into your neck, breathing heavily. You bit your lip hard, trying to calm down and speak, “You were slightly better than Ed.”

You felt him let out a breathed laugh against your neck, but that didn’t save you from the slap he gave your ass. “Shut up.”

You jolted forward but chuckled. Then freed yourself from his embrace, making him frown and lock his eyes on you.

You scooted down, enjoying his confused expression and showing it with a grin, until you lied with your chest on his legs.

You pulled the used condom off his still-hard cock with a wicked gleam in your eyes. You revelled in the way his breath caught in his throat at your actions, and even more so when his mouth opened in pleasure as you started cleaning him off his cum with your tongue.

His hand went to your hair, holding the side of your face as you looked up at the desperate look for more in his eyes.

“Shit…” he breathed out raggedly. “You’re such a slut…”

You grinned, and started trailing kisses up his stomach and to his neck until you sat on top of him again. You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed him, aware of how he could taste himself on your tongue.

His arms held you tight against his warm chest, his forehead against yours as you broke the kiss, and you couldn’t help but think about how many months you had thrown at the wind when you could have been in his bed, warm and…

“I love you.”

[pumpkinsforsale]

Hello! I am a professional carriage driver and instructor. I work for a non profit taking care of horses and training drivers.

There are a lot of misconceptions about whips, they are not a weapon, they are a tool. Like any tool, they can be misused. I don't know enough about riding so I can't say much there, but a whip is to gain attention. I can whip a draft horse with all my strength and it will feel like a rubberband slap at most, if that. If you watch horses in a field together, you'll see kicking and biting, things that hurt way more than a whip could. If you whip a horse excessively in the same spot, or in the face (especially their eye) it can hurt them. Again, think a rubberband slap on you.

It is a training device, it is an attention grabber. If my right horse is lagging behind, making the left horse struggle to pull the weight, and I already called out and he isn't listening, I tap him with the whip to get his attention.

If a horse sees something scary, and I have pedestrians near me, and I already tried calming him down with my voice, what do I do? Let him panic and tear through a crowd of people, or whip him to get his attention to walk forward. The whip says "hey, pay attention to me, I am giving you a job to do" and it works.

The whip is an extension, and a translator. Horses communicate a lot through nudges and touches, as well as pushing and bites. A whip is translating my intentions into something a horse can understand, a tickle or a snip "listen to me"

TL;DR: whips are a tool to be used with correct horse training, they can be misused just like any tool, and it is really, really hard to hurt a horse with a whip, since that is simply not what they are designed for

Edit: everyone in the replies is saying how little experience they have with horses, while I, a full time trained professional who is running a very public educational barn at an accredited museum, is wrong. I'm losing my mind and I need to walk away.

Absolutely insane that I was taught to punish horses with physical pain (whips, kicks, pulling on the reins) when they didn't do as told. I rode from 2004 to 2012, it really wasn't that long ago. I was taught to whip a horse when he bent down for a bit of grass during a trail ride. It's all hitting me now, how deeply fucked up it all was.

I overheard a kid at a thrift store a few weeks ago, ranting at their dad about the whips for sale at one of the stands, and how you aren't allowed to use whips at all. So I hope that means things have changed, at least at the beginner level.

But of course pony riding schools aren't the same as professional riding organizations. I can't help but feel like the constant horse abuse at high level competitions is an indicator that things haven't changed at all. That horse abuse is still normalized, and that the outraged kid yelling about whips was just an outlier.

When will the horse world realize that horses are emotional, sensitive creatures who feel pain and fear?

[connorsui]

mdni - 18+

meh meh meh meh bored and imagining any of the cod men overstimulating your pussy

"You have the sweetest cunt, luv" he groans in between your thighs, bringing his hand down to spank at your wet folds. You arch your back in response to the stinging pleasure, your toes curling as your body trembles.

The slaps against your pussy caused droplets of your juices to land on his face, prompting him to deliver a few more blows while simultaneously driving both of his fingers right inside.

It was all too much - the pain mixed with pleasure, his tongue lapping up your juices as he continued to scissor and stimulate you from within.

How could he expect you to stay still and be quiet?

when he was pushing you towards yet another earth-shattering orgasm?

"You think you can give me another?," he says with his mouth full, but you understand his request. Subconsciously, you push your hips back onto his face, eager to fulfill his desire.

— biting your lip to stifle a cry he redoubles his efforts, his tongue swirling around your swollen clit.

The pressure building rapidly as your muscles clench around his probing fingers. And just when you think you can't take anymore, he sucks hard on your sensitive bud. The dam breaks and you come undone, waves of pleasure crashing over you.

He doesn't relent, drawing out your juices until you're a quivering mess. Only then does he slowly withdraw his fingers, placing a tender kiss on your inner thigh, he says-

"That's my good girl,"

[kunareads]

meta angel

suguru x reader

it's just suguru, he would never hurt you. but your body reacts like it doesn't know that.

masterlist

wc: 1.4k

started as a journal entry months ago kinda

content: boyfriend!suguru, hurt/comfort, angst, argument, trauma response, reader was in an abusive relationship (no specific details)

i’ve got voices in my head telling me that i won’t make it far

suguru thinks you carry things too deeply. that you let words and events settle into your chest like stones, holding onto them long after they’ve passed. he wonders if you even realize it, if the weight of them is familiar now, like something you’ve always known. he wonders if you’ll ever learn to let go.

he carries things too, but unlike you, he doesn’t hold them where people can see. he tucks them away into the spaces between his ribs. you wonder if he even realizes how much he’s drowning.

“you treat yourself like you’re disposable, suguru.” your voice cuts through the stillness, not loud, but laced with something unshakeable. “like your life is collateral.”

he draws in a slow, deep breath. “and you think you know better?” his voice is quiet, but sharp enough to cut. “you think knowing me means you get to decide what’s right for me?”

suguru doesn’t argue to win. he argues to exhaust, to chip away at resolve until the whole thing feels like a mistake. you’ve seen him do it, but you won’t give in tonight.

“i know enough.” the exasperation in your tone is building now, pressing against something deeper. “i watch you come back in pieces. you stitch yourself together with the bare minimum, just enough to survive next time. and all you’ll let me do is watch.”

he shakes his head, a harsh exhale escaping. “i don’t need saving.”

“this isn’t about saving you,” your voice wavers. not from weakness, but from something raw, something too knowing. “it’s about you acting like it wouldn’t matter if you didn’t come back.”

suguru stills. a fraction of a second, something caught between then and now. his face hardens, something so brief it could be missed, but you don’t miss it. when he speaks again, his voice is colder, more penetrating, a glacial edge slicing through the distance between you.

“i didn’t ask you to care.”

mirror singing in my face, where’d you go?

the words land like a slap, soundless but deep. you feel them settle, heavy, leaving something raw behind. he isn’t raising his voice, isn’t yelling, but that only makes it worse. it’s the control in his tone, the way the warmth drains from it, that makes something inside you go quiet.

he moves before you can process it. it’s just a shift, an unconscious attempt to put distance between you, but the way he does it places him directly between you and the door.

awareness prickles at the edges of your vision, something instinctive, old. your breath catches. you shift back, a step so small it shouldn’t matter. your fingers curl, not quite a flinch, but close. your shoulders lock. your gaze flickers past him to the door.

suguru notices the movement, but he doesn’t understand it yet. he assumes you’re backing down, that you’re retreating from the fight because it’s no longer worth the energy. his frustration simmers, pushing against the borders of restraint. “so that’s it? you’re just done now?” his voice tight, regulated, but there’s something hollow underneath it.

you don’t say anything.

“you wanted honesty,” he presses. “this is what it looks like.”

the silence between you concentrates, dense and unyielding.

you’re not just quiet. you’re tense. too tense. your breath comes too steady, too controlled, like it’s manual. your hands are curled, not in anger, but in something else.

for a moment, he doesn’t understand what just happened. the argument was sharp, cutting. but this? this feels different, off-kilter in a way he can’t place. his frustration lingers, but it’s edged now by something else, something uneasy.

something twists in his chest, cold and immediate. this isn’t right. his eyes follow yours, straight to the exit. and then it clicks.

he sees it—the way your shoulders have drawn inward, the way you’re not just stepping back, but recoiling.

throw it in the fire, ego in the fire

the realization drops into him like a stone in deep water.

it’s not about the fight anymore.

his voice softens instinctively, dropping into something warm and careful. “you’re not shutting down.”

you don’t look at him. but something changes in your expression, something unstable.

“i scared you.”

your head shakes too fast, too forcefully. “no, you didn’t—it wasn’t you.” the words rush out too quickly, like you need him to believe them.

but you still won’t meet his eyes. and that’s how he knows.

the ache is instant. deep. he steps aside immediately. not because you’re afraid of him but because you need space. and because he understands now.

you wonder if he knows how different he looks like this. how his edges dull, how he softens for a moment, just enough for you to see.

something loosens in your chest, but it doesn’t fade completely. you’re holding onto something. something not here, not now. you don’t know how to let it go.

he moves carefully, slowly enough that you can track every shift. his posture relaxes, breath leveling, voice smoothing into something softer.

“alright,” he murmurs, quiet. he doesn’t demand an explanation. he just lets the moment settle.

you move first. a hesitant step, the ghost of your fingers against his sleeve. it’s careful, tentative. the space between you hums with something delicate, like a thread pulled too tight.

it’s a risk in its own quiet way. a silent question. a test of whether he’ll pull away, whether you’ll regret reaching for him at all. your fingers hover, barely grazing the fabric, as if pressing too hard will shatter whatever this moment is turning into.

suguru waits. he watches, his breath measured, his presence persistent but unintrusive. he doesn’t reach for you. doesn’t pull you in. he lets you set the pace, his restraint saying more than words ever could. you think, for a moment, that maybe he’s just as afraid of breaking this as you are.

and when you nod, so small he could’ve missed it, he moves.

i’ve got a love for desire

the shift from conflict to comfort is soft and intentional. it unfurls slowly, like an exhale you didn’t realize you were holding, like the tentative warmth of sunlight after a storm. no sudden movements, no desperate grasping. just quiet, and the weight of understanding settling over you both.

he doesn’t say i would never hurt you. you already know that. instead, he whispers, his voice low and unwavering, “you’re safe. i got you.”

the silence stretches, gentler now, no longer thick with unspoken tension. after a long moment, he moves again, guiding you to the couch, not forcing, just easing. his fingers trace slow, familiar paths along your spine. a kiss pressed to your temple, lingering.

eventually, you speak, your voice barely a whisper.

“he used to—” you stop. the words catch, jagged and unfinished. they hover between you, raw and bleeding like an old wound reopened too suddenly. you exhale sharply, but it doesn’t steady you. the memory presses too close, settling heavily in your chest, something you can’t push back down.

suguru says nothing. he doesn’t urge you forward or try to fill the silence. he just listens, steady and patient, the way he always does when it counts.

you curl your fingers into his sleeve, anchoring yourself to the present.

“i don’t—” you try again, but the words feel too big, too tangled, too much. you shake your head, pressing your face into his shoulder instead.

he turns slightly, slow enough that you don’t even realize it at first. the space between you disappears as he tucks you closer, his hand smoothing over your back, tracing slow, familiar circles. a grounding weight, warm against you, breath calm at your temple. not asking, not demanding. just there.

and it should feel small, this moment. but it isn’t. it’s something more, something that settles in the quiet, telling you that he already knows what you can’t say.

he doesn’t say you don’t have to tell me.

he just nods, resting his chin lightly on top of your head, letting the quiet settle.

his warmth spreads through you, filling the spaces words never could.

“okay,” he murmurs, quiet and certain. not dismissive, not final. just something to hold onto, a reassurance.

you’re here. you’re safe. you don’t have to explain yourself to me.

and that’s more than enough.

[muhlsworld]

WHATS WRONG WITH ME?

synopsis: you rescue nika from a bad date.

WARNINGS: suggestive (no actual smut), cussing, talks about sex, not proofread

it was a relaxing evening in seattle. you were getting ready to watch one of your favorite movies when your best friend nika sends you a text saying ‘911’. instead of answering the text you called her. “hey is everything okay?” you asked the second she picked up the phone. “yeah i’m on my way, don’t worry i’ll be there soon.” nika said quickly and then hanging up. you were so confused until you got a second text from her.

‘bad date. had to leave. omw to yours’

then it all made sense. you simply liked her message waiting for her to show up. a few minutes later you heard the door open. knowing it was nika since she had your spare key. “in the living room.” you shouted so she could go towards you. she walked in the living room looking as beautiful as ever. wearing that black leather set that you helped pick out.

“omg im so sorry for barging in but i just had the worst date ever.” nika said with her head in her hands. “wanna tell me about it?” you asked trying to be as supportive as you could. “the date itself wasn’t that bad you know? he was cute and respectful. but after the dinner we went back to his place.” she said stopping slightly and you nodded understanding what she was referring to.

waiting for her to continue you placed a comforting hand on her thigh. “it was going good too, we were making out and it wasn’t the worst but as i went to sit on his lap i felt nothing. like actually nothing” she said almost embarrassed. “so he wasn’t hard yet right?” you asked slightly uncomfortable with the conversation. “see that’s what i thought too so we kept going but he just wouldn’t get hard. like we literally couldn’t even do anything.” she stated frustrated.

you look at her in shock with what she was telling you. you honestly didn’t know what to tell her to make her feel better. so you opted for slightly rubbing her thigh to make her feel comforted. then she spoke up again “is there something wrong with me?” nika asked. “what the hell? no what are you talking about?” you asked confused at the question. “am i not hot enough?” she asked sheepishly.

you looked at her like she was insane. she was the most beautiful woman you’ve set your eyes on. she was literally a goddess in your eyes. “what nika? why would you say that?” you asked. “i don’t know it’s just…” she paused for a little “do you think i’m hot?” nika asked. before your brain could stop you from speaking you blurted out “of course i do”. your eyes went wide are your confession.

you slapped your hand on your forehead from the embarrassment. but what you didn’t see was nikas smirk. “you think i’m hot?” she asked almost seductively. you nodded hesitantly. the tension in the room growing thicker and thicker. “so you wouldn’t mind helping me out right?” she asked. you shook your head and then said “what do you need help with?”

“let me kiss you.” nike said bluntly. you mouth dropped slightly at the statement. “help me prove to myself that i can make someone horny. help me make sure there’s nothing wrong with me.” she practically begged. your mouth went dry at those words. without waiting any longer you answered.

“okay.”

and with that confirmation nika turned to face towards you on the couch and leaned in slightly so your lips touched. it was a quick peck at first. and then once she saw you were okay with it she pulled you onto her lap. each one of your legs on either side of hers. nikas hands were planted on your waist as your hands went around her neck.

once you were settled in her lap, she captured your lips in yet another kiss. but this time it was hungrier. one of her wants move slowly up your back until she reached your head. so she grabbed a fistful of your hair as she tugged a little. you opened your mouth slightly at the sensation and nika took the initiative to slide her tongue in your mouth.

you moaned as she inserted her tongue into your mouth. nika took that as a sign that she was doing good. so with that she placed her hand back down on your waist firmly. your heart was practically beating out of your chest. you felt like everything was on fire. but you knew nika was only doing this to prove something to herself. so you let her.

after making out for a few minutes she started to place kisses down your jawline and up to your earlobe. she tugged at your earlobe with her teeth and you let out a sigh of satisfaction. she started to kiss down you neck sucking slightly at certain spots. and that’s when your body betrayed you.

you started to slowly grind down on nikas legs begging for some friction. nika was happy with what she was doing to you and she was showing it by grabbing you waist harsher and guiding your hips down into her.

this went on for a few minutes until you couldn’t take it anymore. you wanted more. you needed more. and nika did too. nika started to slide her hand down to your thighs slightly massaging your thigh, inching herself closer to where you wanted her most. but before she did she looked up at you. “are you sure?” she asked. “there’s no going back after this.” she stated. you nodded slowly getting of her lap and leading her your bedroom.

the night consisted of pure pleasure between the two of you. and you couldn’t have been more happy that nikas date ended the way it did.

A/N: please give me requests 🙏

[piastrw]

carcar virginity 🥹🥹

kink list

this isn’t exactly kinky, but here we go

“Fuck,” Carlos mutters, spreading Oscar open, digging his fingers into the plush of his ass.

Oscar’s hole flutters, tight and untouched, and Carlos feels his cock throb at the sight.

“Can’t believe I’ll be the first one having you like this.” He presses a thumb right against the rim, watching the way it clenches up.

Oscar snorts, face half-buried in the pillow. “What?”

Carlos blinks, not understanding. “What what?”

Oscar lifts his head, turning just enough to glance back at him. “You’re not the first one fucking me, Carlos.”

Carlos freezes. “What?”

Oscar, completely unbothered, tugs Carlos’s hands away and rolls onto his back.

“What what?” he echoes, with a little smirk tugging at his lips. “I’m not a virgin.”

Carlos is still stuck several steps back in this conversation. His mouth opens, then shuts, then opens again. “But—you said—”

“What did I say?” Oscar grins now, watching Carlos short-circuit in real-time.

Carlos is scrambling, trying to rewind the conversation, trying to figure out where exactly he got it so wrong.

“You said—” He flounders, furrowing his brows. “I don’t know, something about—about how you don’t really do this, how you never let anyone—”

Oscar blinks at him, then snorts. “Carlos. I meant I don’t usually bottom, not that I’ve never done it.”

Carlos stares, stomach dropping. Oh.

Oscar’s grin widens. “Oh my god. You thought—” He cackles. “You thought you were taking my virginity?”

Carlos scowls. “Shut up.”

Oscar, absolutely not shutting up, kicks his legs a little where Carlos is still holding them open.

Oscar grins wider, eyes flicking down between Carlos’ legs. “Oh my god, you were getting off on it.”

Carlos scowls harder, but his cock twitches, thick and heavy, betraying him. His face burns. “I was not—”

Oscar cackles. “You totally were.” He shifts, stretching his arms above his head, making a show of the way his body arches. “Bet you were already picturing it, huh? Telling me how good I’m taking you? Making me spread my legs real wide for my first time?”

Carlos groans, dragging a hand down his face. “I hate you.”

Oscar hums, tilting his head. “Do you?” He lifts a leg, bracing his foot against Carlos’s shoulder. “You’re still hard.”

Carlos swallows. And yes, even if he’s feeling a bit humiliated, he’s still hard.

How can he not be? Oscar is still naked beneath him, all flushed skin and stretched out, inviting. His thighs are open, his cock is still hard too, leaking against where it rests at his tummy.

For a moment, Carlos is relieved—at least his dumb little mistake didn’t totally kill the mood.

Then he sees the way Oscar’s smirking at him and realizes—oh.

Oscar isn’t just still into this.

He’s getting off on mocking him. Freak.

Carlos scowls. “Can you shut up? I don’t care if you’re a virgin or not.” He grabs Oscar, trying to flip him back onto his stomach.

Oscar cackles, letting Carlos manhandle him, rolling easily onto his stomach, but he’s still grinning.

“Don’t care, huh?” he taunts, muffled against the pillow. “You so cared—”

Carlos slaps his ass.

Oscar jolts, letting out a surprised little ah that turns into giggles.

“You so deserved that,” Carlos mutters, pressing his thumbs into the soft flesh of his thighs.

Oscar hums. “You did wanna be my first,” he sing-songs, shifting his ass back slightly, teasing.

Carlos groans. “Oh my god.”

Carlos doesn’t even bother arguing anymore. It’s useless. Oscar’s just gonna keep running his mouth no matter what he says.

So he shuts him up the only way he can think of—gripping his asscheeks, spreading him open, and leaning in.

Oscar lets out a sharp, surprised sound when Carlos licks over his hole, broad and wet.

“Oh—fuck.”

Carlos grins against him, pleased, and does it again, pressing in with his tongue, tasting him.

Oscar shudders, tensing under Carlos’s hands, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, he tips his ass back more, trying to chase it.

Carlos hums, dragging his thumbs to stretch Oscar open wider, and spits, watching the slickness shine in the dim light before licking into him again.

Oscar makes a wrecked little noise, muffled into the pillow.

“Not so mouthy now, huh?” Carlos murmurs against him.

Oscar shivers violently. “Shut up,” he breathes.

Carlos laughs. “Make me.” And then he presses his tongue in deeper, working him open, fucking him with it.

Oscar actually moans.

Carlos groans against him, gripping his hips tighter, tilting them just right so he can get even deeper.

Oscar is fully melting now, gasping into the sheets.

“Carlos, fuck—”

Carlos hums against him, digging his nails into the meat of Oscar’s ass, holding him in place as he licks him, filthy, groaning at the way Oscar shudders.

"Carlos—” Oscar's voice is shaking, breathless, high. “Oh my god, oh my god—”

Carlos pulls back just enough to press a kiss against his rim, then drags his tongue over it.

“You’re so easy,” Carlos says, pressing a thumb in just slightly, feeling how relaxed he’s getting. “Acting like a little brat one second, falling apart the next.”

Oscar whimpers. “Fuck you.”

Carlos just grins. “I’m trying to.” He slips his tongue back in, and Oscar makes the prettiest, most pitiful noise.

Carlos groans, his own cock throbbing, untouched.

Oscar reaches back suddenly, grabbing at Carlos’s hair, tugging. "Carlos, please—”

Carlos pulls back. “Yeah?” He presses a kiss to Oscar’s lower back, running his hands over his trembling thighs. “What do you want?”

Oscar turns his head, looking at him, flushed and desperate.

“You," he says, breathless.

[my-debauchery]

Nothing.

idol!yuta × afab!reader

idol!yuta × afab!reader

g`fluff, smut

cw`dom!yuta, sub!reader, crossdressing, kissing, spitting, facefucking, cumeating(f&m), oral(f. & m.), mommy kink, slapping, unconsciousness (all is consensual), squirting, explicit content, unprotected sex, fingering

wc`3.2k

A/N:this was somewhat inspired by "Nothing On Me" by Kai. as always, constructive criticism is more than welcome. if you see mistakes in cw tagging, please, let me know.

you were seating at the dressing table, trying to properly curl your hair for the evening ahead. getting hotter by the minute from the effort and the heat of the iron.

as you finished the last strand of hair and pinned it up to cool, you lift your eyes up and see yuta in the reflection staring at you 'can you please open the window? i want to cool down before doing my makeup' you smiled and turned to face him.

yuta silently moves towards your bed and places his bag on it. he fulfills your request and you relish in the icy air filling the room.

you thank him and turn back to the mirror. you hear yuta approaching you while you're rummaging in your makeup drawer. he places his hands on your shoulders and you look up at him once again.

he gives you a unreadable look and kneels next to you. you start turning towards him, but he stops you. so you keep looking at each other though the mirror.

'would you mind doing my makeup too?' he asks you somewhat hesitantly 'sure' you say as you continue to look through your makeup collection again 'but i hope you understand that i never did male makeup, so it might look a bit strange. also i probably won't be able to do your skin, our shades don't match' you tease him.

'you didn't understand me' you hear 'huh?' you meet his eyes full of worries 'what do you mean then?' you inquire. he gets up and brings over his bag over to you.

he opens it up and takes stuff out places them onto the table 'i ordered this and hoped you would do my makeup how you do yours. female style, you know? i even got a foundation in my shade' he shows you a bottle of it and places it back on the table 'i also got a matching dress to yours for me to wear for our date'

'you want me to do your makeup like for a woman and to wear a dress for our date?' you ask carefully. your boyfriend just nods weakly.

yuta watches you get up and quickly go to the bathroom and the dread starts to sink in. he was terrified of what he presumes is happening right now. that you going to be horrified and want to leave him. that so far things were far too good to be true. that you were too accepting, easygoing and he crossed the line.

it was one thing to have kinks and introduce som/sub dynamics into the relationship, far easier to learn and adjust to. but completely other when your boyfriend wants to dress like a woman, who would want that?

yuta was trying to come up with something, anything to calm you down and convince you to not leave him. but after hearing some noise from the bathroom, he saw you waltz back into the bedroom with giddiness and a fluffy kuromi hairband in your hands.

'do you have a specific look in mind or do you want me to freestyle it? or as we going to have matching dresses, do you want to have matching makeup looks? to go all out?' you question while looking through the products he bought.

he grabs your hand 'you don't mind?' he asks and looks inquisitively at you. you look confused and he clarifies 'about me wearing feminine makeup and woman's clothes? that i want us to go out like that together, publicly?'

you giggle and answer 'no. i don't care in what form you come, yuta. your core doesn't change, even if you're a shapeless blob. i know that i love you and you love me, what else could possibly matter? as for the publicity aspect, i only worry that someone might recognize you, but i can try to make you unrecognizable. power of makeup and all that jazz, you know? also we go out at midnight on a walk, so we should be fine' you finish and hold his face gently.

he nods 'thank you. with you i truly feel like i'm alive for the first time' you lean in and give him a chaste kiss on the lips with a wide toothy grin 'now, do you want a full fantasy of a makeup shop experience?'

yuta laughs 'no. i've had plenty of that. i want a fantasy of my girlfriend doing my makeup. preferably while sitting on my lap' he sits down and pulls in to straddle him.

you snort and ask if he has any reference pictures for his look. he shows you different gothic style makeup looks and tells you to do what you think would look best. he relaxes and circles you waist with his arms. so you get to work.

once you're done you hold up a mirror so yuta can see himself 'do you like it? i must say, i think i've outdone myself. you look like a goth baddie'you get up to put away his stuff and a thought hits you 'oh my god! i'll do my makeup like an insta baddie and we can be 2 baddies, just no porsche' you laugh and look up a reference for yourself.

suddenly yuta hugs you from the back and whispers into the nape of your neck 'i love it, thank you' you smile 'go get changed and i'll do my makeup in the meantime, okay?' he nods and walks off.

you do your makeup and let down your curls. you brush them out and spray on your favorite perfume after changing into your own dress. you go to the leaving room in search of yuta, but once you see him, you are speechless.

he is wearing a satin midnight blue slip dress with strings that can shorten it on both sides, a fluffy black cardigan and a glossy black butterfly shaped hair clip on one side 'how do i look? it's not too much, right?' he asks and you shake your head like a dummy.

'you don't look like a baddie. you look like a mommy' you say almost in a trance. yuta looks at your glazed eyes and scoffs 'misbehave and i'll punish you like one' you feel a hot rush and blur out without thinking 'yes, mommy' yuta gives you a warning look and you try to calm yourself down.

you both get your shoes and coats on and head out of the apartment. while standing in the elevator yuta holds your hand and intertwines your fingers. he squeezes it slightly 'remember to behave. you are my good girl, right?' you nod enthusiastically and he kisses your cheek.

you spend next hour just walking around enjoying pretty snowfall and each other's company. but you can't really look at anything except your lovely boyfriend, fantasizing about him taking you in the dark alleyway while calling him mommy or letting him use your mouth.

but you know good things will come to those who wait and you could wait for eternity if it meant waiting for him. you are his good girl after all.

you're nearing your apartment complex and you feel a craving for something sweet, so you pull yuta towards a convince store 'do you want me to give you a face mask?' yuta thought for a moment and shakes his head. he gives you his card 'go get yourself a treat. i'll wait here' you take it and go inside.

you book it straight for your favorite and move to the front to pay 'what a lovely pair you two are' cashier, an old woman mentions, you look up at her in alarm 'what?'

she smiles 'your sister and you. sure your sister's style is a bit unconventional, but i mean she is still beautiful' you smile and relief washes over you, and when a naughty thought pops in 'it's my mommy' you smile even wider 'mommy?' cashier glances outside at yuta again, who now is watching you.

'doesn't she look grate? she still buys me sweet treats, even though i'm all grow up now' you say and swipe yuta's card 'does she? i guess you have a great mommy, don't you?' smile again 'i do. she is the best. have a good night' you step outside and meet yuta's suspicious gaze.

'what did you talk about? you looked worried for a moment? is everything alright?' he tries to look into your eyes, but you avoid his eyes and just munch on your sweet treat 'nothing' you say nonchalantly.

at least you think you said that nonchalantly, but to yuta you look pleased and there is a mischievous twinkle in your eyes once you turn to him. he knows you lying, but he'll let you have your treat for now.

once you approach the buildings entrance, yuta asks you again 'still i'm interested, what were you talking about with the cashier? hmm' he looks up ahead and you know from his tone, that if you don't fess up you'll be in trouble.

hesitantly you tell him during your elevator ride up 'good girl' he tells you while caressing your check. foolishly you relax and happily skip to the front door of the apartment.

however, the mood shifts drastically once the door closes and it pings locked.

yuta pushes you against the mirror hanging next to the front door. your forehead is touching it's cold surface while yuta cages you from behind. one of his arms is circling you, preventing your movement, while the other is covering and lightly squeezing the lower half of your face 'did you think that you were being funny?'

he stares you down in the mirror and you shake your head 'did you think at all before opening your mouth?' he spoke in to your left ear. you shook in his grasp. you start overheating from your coat and yuta's close proximity, but an undeniable feeling of arousel starts to creep.

he turns you around gripping you face again and your shoulder 'maybe you should use your mouth for something better then risky smalltalk' he releases you and starts taking his coat off 'strip.

you move at the speed of lightning throwing clothes all around, while yuta gracefully takes off everything except the dress. you stand there naked shaking like a leaf, not from nerves but from the sheer desire for your boyfriend to have you.

'kneel.' you gently lower yourself right there and look up at him. yuta is towering over you in all his glory. you can see his dick bulging up underneath the dress and the visual makes you squeeze your thighs together.

'open up' he gently holds your chin and you stick your tongue out. he lets his spit slowly drip down into your mouth, all the while holding your gaze.

he lets go of your face and you remain in the same position. yuta lifts his dress up, revealing his fully hard dick and ties strings on one side.

you start by spreading his spit all over with your tongue and gently massaging his balls. you suck on his tip and keep massaging him. after couple sucks you start taking half of him in. going up and down his shaft, flattening your tongue on down motion and licking at top without releasing the tip from your mouth, while still massaging his balls with your hands.

yuta is grunting lowly above you. his left hand is on your head massaging your scalp 'you are doing so well. i know this is all you could think about during our walk. probably something even dirtier, like me fucking you in the back alleyway. and if i wanted to you'd let me, right? you are truly my good girl. good, but dirty and downright depraved little girl, aren't you?' you hum happily and take his dick all the way down.

your nose is pressing against his belly and you squeeze his balls harder and start humming to create a vibration' oh, shit! hold on baby' and you let go of him. you place your hands on his thighs and relax your throat even farther.

yuta grabs your head with both hands and starts fucking your mouth without holdbacks. you breath through your nose and let yourself be completely consumed by him. he goes at a brutal pace and tears foarm in your eyes. you can feel your pussy pulsating and you squeeze your thighs even harder. tears stream down and you can't see anything. you just feel.

he starts growling on top of you and somehow go even faster 'is this what you wanted, huh? for mommy to punish you? am i not giving you enough attention, so you misbehave for me to notice you? are you such a desperate little slut, hmm?'

yuta fully stops and keeps you pressed all the down and starts cuming down your throat. you feel lightheaded. fully enveloped by his smell and taste. you close your eyes and let go of his legs 'look at me. don't you remember? mommy wants you to always look in her eyes' you look at him and start shaking like a dog in heat. his eyes are full of raw desire to fully consume you.

and yuta sees the same in yours.

once he's done cumming he lets go of your head and gently ease you of himself. you lay down on your back breathing heavily. yuta squats in front of you and nudges your legs appart. he swipes his hand against your pussy and lifts it up for you to see. as he spreads his fingers appart, you can see your arousel stringing between them.

you start to turn to get on all fours but yuta stops you 'go to your place'

"your place" is a pool of soft blankets and pillows. placed next to the floor length mirrors in the leaving room he set up in his apartment for you. all because you enjoy to just look out the window at night while listening to the music. or lay around there waiting for him to come back home. all the blankets and pillows are in your favorite colors and designs, just for you.

you stretch your arms towards him to help you get up, but he shakes his head and gates up by himself 'crawl.' you don't need to be told twice and get moving. slowly crawling to the windows, acutely aware of his heavy gaze on you.

once you make it, you turn around and look at him, but he is right behind you. the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and of your labored breaths prevented you hearing his movements.

he manhandles you into a mating press and you grab the back of your things. you expect him to fuck you now, but to your horror he slowly lowers his face towards your vagaina. you knew that you are in for a wild ride now and that being naughty is not for you.

yuta speards your pussy lips apart and spits on it. you feel it pool and drip down to your anus. he blows on it and you shudder from the temperature change.

he starts to gently massage spreading mixture of your arousel and his spit all around. from your pubic mound down to your ass without touching your clit. you start to shake from the anticipation, knowing he won't be calm and gentle for long.

you hear the sound of the slap first and the sting comes after. he slapped your clit and you whined. he slapped it again and again. you just keep on whining and sniffling. after several slaps you see that you pussy is all red and puffy. yuta dives right in.

you can't focus on any one thing in particular. you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. your skin is slippery from the sweat and it's hard to hold your legs pressed to your chest. and most overwhelming is yuta's devouring of your sipping heat.

he looks almost mad. his freshly dyed hair a mess. face all red and glistening with your release. and a stare of a rabied dog that is feeding for the first time in forever. he is looking straight at your and amid all the pleasure you feel almost shy.

but then he plunges three fingers in your fluttering hole and you forget all about it. while his tongue is lapping at your clit at an inhumane speed, his fingers play with your g-spot agonizingly slow. as you started to seize up yuta started to jab his fingers at it and suck on your clit with fool force.

the familiar pressure starts to build and then white, hot flush takes over you as you squirt into yuta's mouth.

your grip on your legs slips. yuta grabs your legs and pushes. you completely lose it and just shake from cumming and overstimulation, because yuta didn't let up and continued lapping up your juices and sucking on your pussy.

you come around and feel yuta's head still stuck between your thighs. both of you on your sides with you facing the window, looking over the night cityscape.

another orgasm hits you and you moan long and loud. you can feel just how soar you are. yuta turns you onto your back and kneels between your outstretched legs.

you can see your juices dripping down his chin, neck and onto his chest. his makeup completely ruined with mascara runs like in classic rom-com and lipstick gone. he is fully naked and hard. you manage to whisper out 'dress?'

'it got all sticky so I took it off. how do you feel?' he questioned as he lifted you up to a sitting position 'soar and empty' you can see that he cumed all over the blanket 'won't mommy feel me up?' you croacked out and batted your lashes.

yuta chuckles and nodes 'of course ,my good kitten deserves it. after all you did so well' he wipes hair away from your face and kisses your forehead.

he lays down and pulls you on top of him. first you kneel to straddle him, but he pulls you flush against him while keeping your legs in a kneeling position.

yuta carefully enters you, keeping in mind your soar body. once you're down to a hilt you both sigh in relief. he plants his feet on the floor and gently starts rocking into you.

he is slow and deliberate with his strokes. pleasure comes in waves, like you're laying on the shore with warm waves washing over your body again and again.

you both circle each with your arms 'you're my lovely puppy, aren't you? you always do so well for me. even if you're naughty you take your punishment like a champ. my little cutie. you are ready for me to fill you up?' you nod into his chest and let go of your own release.

you feel his warm seed fill you and all consuming bliss takes over your entire being. it spreads from your stomach all over like a liquid sunshine.

while basking in your afterglow you ask yuta 'can you keep your dress on next time?' he thinks for a moment 'can't make any promises'

'why not?' he turns you by you chin to face him, his eyes are full of devotion 'i want nothing on me but you'

[grimst4rs]

James fell limply in his chair, giving a weary smile that came across as more of a grimace than anything to the two boys running through the kitchen, their younger brother trailing after them.

“Give me my book back, Bill!”

“Come and get it, Percy!”

The sun hadn’t risen yet. The dim lights in the kitchen were the only thing that helped darkness not consume them. James ran a hand across his stubbled face, sighing deeply.

Outside, a motorcycle roared. Not a few seconds passed before Remus and Sirius stepped inside. Sirius took off his helmet and pushed his long hair out of his face, before he looked at James.

“Where’s Marlene?”

James looked down at his shoes.

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed under his breath, standing in the doorway which made its way to the kitchen. Remus swallowed deeply, them moved next to the fireplace.

“Where’s Lily?” He asked, cautiously.

“Putting Ron to bed with Molly. Harry won’t go to sleep.”

Sirius paced a few steps, his boots heavy against the wood floor. “You didn’t— and you didn’t even have a chance to—”

“No,” James cut him off sharply, rubbing his hands over his face again. “We didn’t have a chance. It was—just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “She was gone before I even knew what happened. I couldn’t do anything. Cursed her off her broom.”

Lily stepped into the kitchen, Harry in her arms, eyes red. “I take he’s told you too, then.”

“She didn’t even see it coming, Lils. One moment she was flying, and the next… she was gone.”

Sirius, who had been pacing the floor like a caged animal, stopped in his tracks. “It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

James looked up sharply, the sharpness in his voice betraying the exhaustion behind his words. “I should’ve done something.”

Before James could say anything else, the door slammed open, and Dorcas Meadowes walked in, disvelished and distraught, but determined. She stood for a second, then her eyes scanned the kitchen.

“Where is Marlene, James?” She asked, something simmering under the surface.

Lily stepped back, holding Harry tighter, sensing the storm about to break. She made eye contact with Sirius, a silent understanding passing between them. She didn’t want to be in the middle of this—not now. Not after everything. Without a word, she moved toward the door.

“I’m taking Harry upstairs.”

James wanted to stop her—wanted to plead with her to stay—but he couldn’t. The weight in his chest was too much. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as she passed, but she didn’t respond, just turned her back and walked out.

Dorcas didn’t seem to notice, her gaze still fixed on James. She took a few steps forward, and James could feel the tension build.

“Tell me,” she demanded, her voice dangerously calm. “Tell me. Now, James.”

“She’s gone, Dorcas. They killed her, in midair. We couldn’t do anything.”

She slammed her hands on the table, the force making the plates rattle. Bill and Charlie, who had been quietly watching from the other side of the room, jumped back, eyes wide in shock. Molly Weasley let out an indignant huff.

“You couldn’t do anything?” she hissed, her chest rising with each breath. “She was my friend, James! I’m supposed to believe that? That she just fell because you couldn’t do anything?”

Sirius stepped between them, back straight. “Dorcas, stop it. You’re not thinking straight. None of us were ready for this.”

But Dorcas just glared at him. Her eyes were wild, her fists clenched at her sides, and she looked like she might explode at any moment. “I don’t give a fuck about what you say, Sirius. I want to know why she’s dead. Why James? Why did you let her die?”

Without thinking, her hand raised and slapped James across the face, the sound of it ringing through the kitchen.

For a moment, everything stopped. James’s head moved to the side, his cheek stinging, but he didn’t raise his hand to defend himself. He just stared at her, the weight of her fury breaking through the cracks in his own sorrow.

“Dorcas,” Sirius growled, moving to her side in an instant and pinning her wrists together in his hands. “That’s enough.”

But Dorcas wasn’t done. She stepped back, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her anger still blazing in her eyes. She ripped her hands away from his and pointed an accusatory finger at James, her voice dripping with venom. “You should’ve saved her!”

James felt something snap inside him. He stood, his voice low but forceful. “Don’t you dare tell me what I should’ve done. I was there. I was fighting, just like she was. Marlene didn’t die because of me, Dorcas. She died because of them. Because of the Death Eaters.”

Sirius stepped forward, his face tense with frustration but his tone surprisingly calm. “James is right. We’re against them, not each other.”

Dorcas looked like she might argue with him, but the words never came. She stood there, seething, her anger still burning, “I fucking hate you, James Potter.”

She didn’t look at anyone else as she walked towards the door.

[dreaminguponlilypads]

BITE THE HAND PT. 3

AU: vampire!Simon “Ghost” Riley x human!reader

The tension between you had reached a boiling point. You could feel it in the air, thick and suffocating, and neither of you had been able to ignore it anymore. The words had been building for days, weeks, and now, they were finally spilling out, raw and sharp.

“You think this is okay? You think I can just keep doing this?” Your voice was low, but seething with frustration. You were done being careful, done holding it in. Simon’s silence, his distance—it was too much. You needed to know where you stood, needed to tear the fucking wall down.

Simon’s eyes flickered to you, his expression unreadable. His gaze was cold, detached, but you could see the shift in him—the moment it went from anger to something else, something darker. The same thing he always kept buried beneath his stoic mask.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, Simon,” you spat, fists clenched at your sides. “And I’m fucking tired of it.”

He took a step forward, and the space between you felt like a chasm. His dark eyes bore into you, unflinching, but the tension in his jaw told you everything you needed to know. “You knew what you were getting into,” he growled, his voice low, almost dangerous.

You laughed bitterly, taking a step toward him. “Oh, I knew all right. I knew the danger of being with a fucking monster like you. But I didn’t know it was gonna feel like this—like I’m just hanging on by a fucking thread, waiting for you to snap!”

His jaw tightened, and his hands curled into fists. “I don’t snap.” His tone was sharp, harsh, but you could hear the threat beneath the words. The weight of it, the anger simmering just under the surface. But you didn’t care.

“You don’t snap, but you could. And that’s the fucking problem.” You took a step forward, glaring up at him, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “You’re a vampire, Simon. You’re dangerous. And every time I’m with you, I’m one step closer to being fucking dead. Do you get that? Do you get the risk you put me in?!”

Simon’s eyes darkened, the glint of hunger flickering in the depths. His lips curled into a sneer, and his voice came out low, almost menacing. “You knew what I was when you chose this. You knew exactly what the risks were, and you still let me in. Don’t act like you didn’t fucking know!”

You recoiled, the words stinging more than they should have. “Yeah? Maybe I did know. But I thought you—” You cut yourself off, frustration making your chest tighten. “I thought you cared. But you don’t. You can’t. Not the way I need you to. Not the way you should.”

Simon’s eyes flashed. His whole body was tense, coiled, like a wound-up spring ready to snap. He took a step toward you, backing you against the wall with a force that made your breath catch. “You want me to care? You want me to be soft, to hold your fucking hand and pretend that this isn’t a blood-soaked mess? You are the one who chose this. You are the one who decided to get tangled up with me, so don’t fucking blame me for your choices!”

His voice was a growl, rough and raw, and you could feel the heat of him—could feel the rage crackling in the air between you.

“You think this is just some game to me, Simon?!” you shot back, heart pounding, eyes flashing. “I’m not some toy you get to fuck whenever it suits you. I’m not some pet you can play with and then discard when you’re done.” You jabbed your finger into his chest, angry, desperate for him to understand. “You’re not just a vampire. You’re a fucking threat, and every time I’m with you, I’m gambling with my life!”

His breath hitched, something darker flashing in his eyes. But he didn’t back off. He didn’t retreat. Instead, he leaned in closer, his lips brushing your ear, his voice dangerously soft. “Then stop fucking coming back to me.”

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, all the fire in you seemed to evaporate. You looked at him, searching his face for any sign of vulnerability, but all you saw was cold, hard resolve. “I—”

He pulled away, crossing his arms over his chest, still too close, too there. “You keep running back to me, over and over, but then you want to act like I’m the problem. You think you can just walk away when it gets hard? That’s not how this works.” His voice was low, but it still held that dangerous edge.

You stared at him, chest rising and falling, the weight of the argument pressing in on you. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this, Simon,” you whispered, the raw emotion bubbling up again. “I don’t know how much longer I can live like this—constantly wondering if the next time I’m with you will be the last.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Simon seemed to hesitate. The icy mask he wore was cracking, just a little. But he didn’t let it show. Instead, he looked at you, his eyes burning with something you couldn’t quite place.

“You think I don’t feel the same?” he asked, his voice harsh but edged with something darker, something raw. “You think this doesn’t fucking tear at me too?”

You swallowed hard, but you didn’t back down. “I don’t know what the fuck to believe anymore.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but the emotion behind it was enough to make Simon’s jaw tighten.

The tension between you was almost unbearable, the heat in the room suffocating. Neither of you moved, both of you standing there, raw and exposed. Neither of you willing to give in.

Then, with a growl, Simon closed the distance between you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you toward him with a force that left you breathless. “I’m not fucking leaving you. Not like this. Not now. Not ever.” His lips crashed against yours in a violent kiss, hot and desperate, almost punishing.

You kissed him back with equal fervor, matching his intensity, matching the fire that had been building between you for days. There were no words left, no room for negotiation, just raw, unrestrained need.

But even as you kissed him, the fear, the danger still lingered. The risk was never far away. And as the kiss deepened, you both knew—neither of you was ever walking away from this.

[ohai-there]

scumplane narut for the ask game!

@croutonconfidential Sorry for the delay! I got cooked!

Including this post and this post!

"Regarding the criminal you're pursuing," Minato says, grabbing the report scroll his ANBU had presented to him this morning, "a large explosion of chakra was felt to the west of the village and once we sent in teams to investigate, they reported a large crater in the forest. We've also received reports about the man sharing the description given wandering through some of our rural towns, injured. I've had a team follow him from a distance, since."

Shen Qingqiu raises a perfectly sculpted brow, "straight into business, hm?" and Shang Qinghua elbows him in the ribs and gets a sharp slap of fan over the head for it, "Martial Elder Brother Shen, they have different customs from us. You can't expect them to go for a gift-giving ceremony."

Minato pauses, was he supposed to be giving gifts to the Guests??? But Shen Qingqiu just snorts, his face as smooth as jade as he flicks an arm out and just says, "Ming Fan."

One of the disciples, the one who had knocked on the carriage door, steps forward and clasps his hands together, the back of his palms facing Minato, "Hokage-sama," he says, bows lightly, and slips one hand into his long, long sleeve.

Minato can feel his ANBU tensing, preparing for a weapon to be drawn, but Minato keeps his body relaxed as a show of trust.

Ming Fan pulls out a large, gold-gilded wooden box from within his sleeves, was he carrying that with him this entire time??? and no one noticed????? and he presents it with both hands and a shallow bow.

"For your hospitality," Shen Qingqiu says disdainfully, "to show our appreciation for your assistance."

"Ah," Shang Qinghua says, "right. Disciple One, my gift as well."

One of the women steps forward, her own heavy wooden box in her hands. It's inlaid with blue gemstones of all colours and silver detailing and Minato can feel the wealth radiating from the box itself.

"Of course," Shang Qinghua introduces, "gold. We weren't sure if spirit stones would be in circulation here, beyond the barrier, so gold is always a safe option. A tea set, made from the master who lives atop of the Great Eastern Mountain bordering the Demonic Realm, made with the volcanic ash of the mountain pressed into the porcelain that enhances the taste of tea steeped within."

The woman opens the box, allowing Minato to peek in and see a shining, smooth teapot and four teacups within - there's golden tree branches and fluttering leaves painted into them, and when the light shifts he swears he can see them sway - below the teaset tray, he catches a glimpse of golden bars and his stomach aches.

Then, she reaches to the front and slides open a front drawer, one that had seamlessly blended into the outside of the box and sitting on velvet is a chunk of wood.

"Incense," Shang Qinghua says cheerfully, "from a hundred-year old spiritual sandalwood tree, it's said to bring good fortune and prosperity for those who burn it. It also smells really good. Undertones of soap!"

The woman slides all of the compartments closed, the wood clicking back into place softly, and Minato almost reaches out to take it but hesitates, because neither Shen Qingqiu nor Shang Qinghua have held, much less touched, the boxes.

"Boar," he says and ANBU Boar flickers down, understanding Minato's silent command easily, and takes the box, standing behind him openly and stiffly, not unaffected by the value of the box in his hands.

"I have brought," Shen Qingqiu says, voice silk and commanding attention, "a brush set; each bristle is the very tip fiber of the flight feathers from the Venomous Six-Tailed Goose and the ink is made by Master Wu of the Western Sun Estate - the same master who creates all of the ink sets for my own Scholarly Peak."

Distantly, Minato hears Shang Qinghua mumble something that sounds like, "my budget," but his attention is taken by Ming Fan displaying the stationary within the box easily and Minato has to keep his face from twitching at seeing even more gold in the box beneath the tray. Beside it is another, smaller wooden box, and Shen Qingqiu seems to notice Minato's curiousity because he smirks in a way that makes Minato want to curl up on the ground in humiliation or perhaps get on his knees to beg to see it again.

"Apt observation," his fan comes out, fwip, and flutters lightly before Shen Qingqiu's smug expression, "Tea from our sect's Flower Peak."

"What." Shang Qinghua says, seeming to freeze in laser focus at his fellow Peak Lord, "what do you mean Tea from our Flower Peak."

Shen Qingqiu ignores him, directly addressing Minato, "This is the seventh-grade five-hundred-year tea, planted and raised by our very own Martial Younger Brother Li."

"ARE YOU CRAZY?!" Shang Qinghua shrieks, his hands waving around comically, "ARE YOU TRYING TO GET US KILLED? ARE YOU TRYING TO GET HOKAGE-SAMA KILLED?!"

What.

Shan Qingqiu sniffs, "hardly. Martial Younger Brother Li owes me after I went hunting for the instructional methods of raising the All-Devouring Demonic Succulents through multiple libraries."

"SO YOU'RE TRYING TO GET ME KILLED!? HE'S BEEN CARING FOR THOSE TEA LEAVES FOR FIVE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY TWO YEARS! HE TALKS TO THEM EVERY MORNING AND NIGHT!!!! DID YOU EVEN ASK BEFORE TAKIN- oh heavens above, he doesn't even know you took them, does he? Does he?"

"Cease your flailing," Shen Qingqiu brushes off where Shang Qinghua had clung to his robes in his panic, "Hokage-sama, please ignore this foolish idiot's words. The tea will bring no harm to you, Yingying," Minato watches as the only other woman in the procession bounces forward, taking the small box out to display it proudly to Minato, who hesitantly leans forward to peek at the green leaves.

A soft, delicate, yet heady scent floats into his nose and Minato wonders faintly if he's going to be poisoned.

"No harm? No harm? People have been assassinated over this tea -let me see it- YOU'RE GIVING HIM SO MUCH!?" Shang Qinghua splutters and there's a sharp smack as Shen Qingqiu hits his fellow Peak Lord over the head, "really, it's only enough to extend his youth for about a hundred years, especially since these people have such lacking spiritual compatibility. It's hardly anything to get worked up about."

"A HUNDRED YEARS IS A LONG TIME FOR MORTALS!!!!! PEOPLE HAVE BEEN KILLED OVER OUR SHITTY SECOND GRADE TEA THAT ONLY GIVES LIKE!!! TEN YEARS OF YOUTH!!!! SEVENTH GRADE!!!!! WHAT IF THE EMPEROR WANTS TO BUY OUR TEA AGAIN? WE'RE NOT GIVING HIM EIGHTH GRADE! HE CAN'T AFFORD THAT! "

Shang Qinghua has his head in his hands, pulling at his scalp in distress, and Minato feels about half of his despair. A hundred years is a long time, Konoha had been founded a hundred years ago. Minato never really thought he'd make it to forty, much less any longer, and to be at peak physical health for a hundred years, the thought makes him dizzy.

"As grating as Martial Younger Brother Shang is, he does bring up a good point, Hokage-sama. I would highly recommend consuming all of the tea as soon as possible, lest others find you in the way of their own quests to immortality." A wave of Shen Qingqiu's hand has Yingying putting the box of tea back into the larger box, and Ming Fan closing it fully. Shang Qinghua groans, "I could've sold it for a palace."

Minato stares at him, a bit uncomprehending, as his mind tries to make sense of the absurd situation before him. He needs - he needs to take the gift, take the tea, but with the sheer value of the leaves he needs someone he can trust, entirely, to take care of it.

"Hound," he says, watching as Hounds small frame flits from the rafters to the ground, head bowed low. Minato hears the two women squeal and titter as Hound takes the box, it looks comically large in the slight teenager's hands. Shang Qinghua moans out something like, "my palace."

"Very well," Shen Qingqiu says, his fan slips closed and into his sleeve, "with all our formalities out of the way, lets get down to business."

[teaboot]

You're kind of annoying but make some funny posts so I still follow you

don't?

[frogaroundandfindout]

Dick: Look. I know why you’re here. You don’t want Bludhaven’s problems spreading into your precious Gotham. And you don’t trust me to contain this. But the Haven is my personal crusade. Just like Gotham is yours. And I’ve been doing all right so far.

Bruce: I never means to intrude. I’m surprised to hear you talk about Gotham that way.

Dick: it’s not my hometown. I was born in a trailer by the big top. I never really had a hometown. Until now.

Bruce: I didn’t know you felt like that. But I understand. Well. That’s it then.

Dick: Damn.

Nightwing Vol.2. #14