#but also something about it feels forced or not thought through

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: asking for a massage from the king of curses is a brave thing to dare and do. but maybe he'll make an exception for you, his pregnant lover.

tags. true form!sukuna x pregnant!female reader. fluff. you can be his concubine or wife or whatever. foot massage. reader gets called 'woman, brat'. not proofread (it sucks).

you’re currently lounged back on the plush futon you share with the one and only ryomen sukuna. the big man - as per usual - takes up almost all of the space which leaves you no choice but to snuggle up against him. not that you’re complaining about that. he’s like your personal teddy bear. calling him that to his face might have some unfortunate consequences though.

sukuna sits beside you, his muscular frame relaxed yet somehow still radiating a menacing aura. the bedroom is filled with a comfortable and intimate silence—a stark contrast to the icy tension that once dominated your early days together.

the pink-haired man glances down at you, his red eyes narrowing as he takes in your pouty and uncomfortable expression. you’re absentmindedly rubbing your rounded belly which reminds him of the life he’s planted in your womb. his son and future heir. a flicker of pride shines in his eyes at the thought.

“‘kuna,” your voice cuts through the silence while you squirm into a more comfortable position. you’re already in your last trimester and your body is aching all over. especially when you have to walk on your now swollen feet. you’ve tried every remedy there is on earth and yet the discomfort doesn’t fully disappear.

you pout and tilt your head to look at sukuna, “my feet are killing me.”

you leave it at that, but there’s a pleading look in your eyes as you gaze up at the king of curses. it’s an indirect request—a request to relieve that ache in your feet in the form of a massage. maybe he can do your back too while he’s at it.

sukuna rolls his eyes at that pouty expression of yours. he knows what you’re implying, though it seems like he couldn’t care any less. “so?” he replies curtly, the single word dripping with disinterest.

you let out a scoff in return and sulk even more at his cold dismissal. the seconds tick by and it leaves you wondering if sukuna doesn’t even feel the slightest urge to help you out. you’ve always known that he’s a heartless man, literally, but it’s during moments like these that you yearn for just a crumb of empathy.

and so the silence stretches between you two, thick and heavy.

just as you’re about to turn on your side and deal with the discomfort on your own, sukuna’s large hand reaches out and grabs your ankle. his fingers wrap around the flesh before yanking your foot towards him with surprising force.

sukuna grumbles something incomprehensible under his breath before impatiently flicking your sensitive skin. “what are you waiting for, woman?” his voice is deep and low, almost a growl. he roughly places one of your feet in his lap, “hurry up and place the other one here too.”

despite his harsh words and rough manhandling, there’s a hint of something softer in his voice, a subtle undercurrent of concern that he will never admit out loud.

you’re stunned for a good couple seconds. your eyes are wide as you look up at your partner but it doesn’t take long for you to comply.

better grab your chance before he changes his mind and actually leaves you to your own devices.

you obediently place your other foot in his lap and relax back against the soft pillows. sukuna glances down at them, his brows furrowing slightly as he tries to figure out how to proceed. he’s never given massages to anyone, only ever received them. this is a privilege for you, but also a new experience for him.

his calloused hands look almsot comically out of place against your delicate, swollen feet. he starts to knead the arch of your right foot, fingers sinking into the soft flesh. he’s a bit rough with it—his touch firm and somewhat clumsy.

you’re reminded of the fact that his hands are only made for battle and destruction when he increases the pressure without any regard for your comfort.

“…you're quite heavy handed,” you mumble and follow it up with a groan. you don’t want to interrupt your peaceful moment, but your leg twitches and you squirm, a clear sign that sukuna is a bit too rough with your achy limbs.

the king of curses uses one of his four hands to firmly yet gently smack the sole of your foot. you should be grateful that he’s even willing to try to do this, he thinks.

“shut up, brat,” sukuna grumbles, but his actions speak louder than his words. his calloused fingers gentle their ministrations on your skin slightly, now a perfect balance of pressure and tenderness.

the silence falls upon the room once more, broken only by the occasional creak of the floorboards beneath the futon and the faint sound of sukuna’s hands working over your feet. he uses too much pressure at times, his grip bordering on painful, before easing up and stroking your skin almost gently.

“mmh, that’s perfect,” you moan and close your eyes in contentment. sukuna’s large, strong hands knead and squeeze the soft flesh of your soles, much like one would knead dough. it’s rough but not too much like it was earlier.

you smile to yourself as you compliment his skills, “you’re getting really good at this, ryo.”

the pink-haired man spares you a quick glance. he lets out a condescending scoff at the way you seem to melt at his touch.

“mhhm,” sukuna lets out a short and indifferent hum. he lets a short silence fall before a wicked smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “. . .have to make sure the meat is nice and tender after all,” he adds and licks his lips as a carnal hunger flashes through his crimson eyes.

the mouth on his stomach suddenly opens up, the big and heavy tongue darting out to lick a disgusting stripe up your foot. the king of curses even lets it nibble on your skin, emphasising the so-called threat of readying you for his consumption.

“ew!” you squeal and kick your legs, shivering at the icky sensation. the switch in his mood caught you off guard, “quit it!”

that stomach tongue of his still creeps you out at times. even more so when you realise he can actually just use it to gobble you up.

sukuna’s eyes flash with amusement at your reaction, but he settles down and simply clicks his tongue in mock annoyance. “tsk, fine,” he grumbles. “now stop movin’ or these will actually serve as my dinner,” he yanks at your feet and holds them down firmly so he can continue the massage.

you do as told almost instantly and stop squirming. you watch as the mouth on sukuna’s abs closes and forms a thin line once more—the immediate threat gone. you breathe out in relief and regain your composure.

and yet you can’t help but provoke him again just two seconds later.

you grin and stick your tongue out at your partner once you thought of a smart retort. “surely you wouldn’t actually do such a thing to the mother of your child,” you taunt and pat your swollen tummy.

sukuna raises an eyebrow at your comment. pulling out that card with a morally ambiguous man like him sure is an interesting choice. “oh yeah? try me,” he says in a scarily serious voice that has you rethinking your daring words.

you quickly shake your head when you see the mouth on his abs open up again, that damned tongue peeking out slowly and teasingly.

oh, that man sure knows how to deal with you.

“uhmmm, yeah, no thanks.”

“that’s what i thought.”

[sunniques]

— 𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 !

your stepdad shows you how much he loves to have you by his side.

❥ PAIRING: choi seungcheol x female reader

❥ GENRE: stepdad au, smut

❥ WORD COUNT: 10.3k

❥ CW/TW: stepcest, infidelity, age gap, reader can be picked up by cheol, grinding, begging, breeding kink, daddy kink, spanking, nipple play, thigh riding, oral sex (f & m), unprotected sex, riding, office sex, morning sex, creampies, overstimulation, cockwarming

NOTE: PLF MASTERLIST. don’t like, don’t read. as always, huge thank you to my oomf @wonustars for beta reading <3

Seungcheol is in love. He’s deeply, irrevocably in love with an amazing, beautiful woman who makes him feel more alive than he has in years. Falling for you was the easiest thing he ever did. It was so easy that he didn’t realize it was happening until it was too late. When he thinks back, he can pinpoint the exact moment this feeling started to develop. It began after the first time you two had sex; on the night you snuck into his room and helped yourself to his cock like it was already yours.

Just below the surface, Seungcheol knows the entire situation isn’t right. Honestly, it’s something that probably should’ve never happened, but he doesn’t care. For once in his life, he’s going to be selfish and indulge in his depraved desires without caring about any of the potential consequences. Maybe he’s lost his mind, but if loving you is insanity, he never wants to be sane again.

There is one problem, though. Seungcheol still hasn’t told you about these very real feelings he has for you. Not in the way they were meant to be expressed, anyway. Saying it during or after sex isn’t as intimate because of the fact that those are the only times he’s said those three little words to you. The last thing he wants is for you to think that he’s love bombing you or you thinking it’s the sex talking. While you are the best sex he’s ever had, being with you is more than that. 

There’s also the (not so) small fact that you’ve never said those words to him. The most he’s gotten is a love you or love this from you. Seungcheol isn’t the insecure type, but the longer he thinks about it, the more it makes him think you might not love him how he loves you. Part of him knows you feel something for him, but there’s also a small doubt in the back of his mind that maybe you’re not serious about being together.

It’s not like he doesn’t understand if that is how you feel. A young woman with her entire life ahead of her might not be ready or willing to settle down so quickly. Seungcheol isn’t foolish enough to think that you’re willing to put off your goals and dreams just for him. Not that he would want you to, but the thought of you picturing a future that he’s not a part of breaks his heart. Even the mere thought of not being important to you kills him, and he tries his best not to think about it constantly.

Unfortunately for him, he’s forced to confront this very real possibility when he unintentionally hears you talking on the phone with one of your friends one day. 

After a long meeting, he came home with the urge to hold you in his arms and decompress. Seungcheol doesn’t think twice about heading straight for your room with the intention of relieving all of his stress with your help. Your bedroom door is ajar, and just before he can walk in, he realizes you’re on the phone. You have it on speaker loud enough for him to hear everything.

“Did you buy your ticket already?”

You hum as you roll onto your back and look up at the ceiling unseeingly. “Yeah. I bought it a while ago.”

A high pitched squeal of excitement cuts through the peaceful silence. “Okay. Don’t forget Chan and Vernon are coming too, so make sure you pack that cute two piece you have—you know, the black one.”

Seungcheol feels his heart drop because he knows exactly the swimsuit your friend is talking about. It’s the same one that drove him crazy on your vacation last week. The worst part about this entire situation is not the fact that you’ll be around guys your own age, but the fact that you never mentioned going on a trip at all. It makes the most insecure part of him start to spiral, and he can’t stand by anymore and listen to you be so excited for this trip you never bothered to tell him about. 

So he leaves quietly, taking his heavy heart with him.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice something’s bothering Seungcheol. He’s been a little distant, and even though he never opted out of spending time with you, you can tell his mind is somewhere else whenever you two are hanging out.

“Cheolie, what’s wrong?”

Seungcheol snaps out of his self-deprecating thoughts and realizes the movie on the TV is paused. Your eyes shine with concern as you stare at him. His heart throbs painfully because there’s this glimmer of hope he feels that he knows might end up turning into disappointment. Are you really worried about him, or is he deluding himself into thinking that you care more than you actually do?

“Nothing.” 

The response slips out before Seungcheol can fully think it through, and immediately he can tell that you don’t believe him. You sit up and turn to face him fully. The incredulous look on your face does nothing to take away from your beauty. He almost smiles because in this moment, it feels like you actually care about him. 

“You’re lying,” you say, voice bordering on demanding. “Did something happen?”

Seungcheol can’t look away from your piercing stare. He’s never been one to hesitate, but he’s also never felt like this about anyone before. You have his heart in your hands, and he knows that no matter what he does, he’ll never get it back. The craziest part is that he doesn’t want it back. Because he gave it to you, and Choi Seungcheol would never take back something he gave you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re going on a trip?”

You’re floored by the words that come out of his mouth. Not because of the question itself, but because of how vulnerable he sounds when he says it. His eyes are shining, but not in the way you love. You can tell he’s holding back tears, and you can’t stand the crushed look on his face.

“Is that why you’re upset?” You ask tentatively. “Because I didn’t tell you?”

Seungcheol looks away. Your tone isn’t mean or dismissive, but he’s still embarrassed by how upset he’s gotten over you not mentioning your plans to him.

“I just– Why wouldn’t you tell me? Do I mean that little to you?” 

“What? How could you even say that?” You exclaim in disbelief. “You know how much you mean to me!”

There it is again. You have no problem telling him that you care about him, but you still don’t say the words he’s dying to hear. And once again, it makes his chest tighten in the worst way.

“Yeah, but you don’t love me, right?”

A thick silence follows his words. Suddenly everything makes sense to you. For some reason beyond your belief, Seungcheol doesn’t know about the very real and intense feelings you have for him. You almost laugh at the absurdity of it. How can he not see just how deep your feelings for him are?

Seungcheol can’t deny that he loves the expression on your face. Despite everything, the look in your eyes makes Seungcheol start to doubt all the distressing thoughts plaguing his mind. Had his insecurities gotten the best of him and made him overthink about your feelings for him? It’s starting to really feel that way.

Without another word, you climb into his lap and take his face into your hands. His wide eyes stare into yours as you gently stroke his cheeks. “Is that what you think? That I don’t love you?”

Seungcheol swallows thickly before he answers you.

“You never say ‘I love you’ to me, and maybe that’s my fault because I’ve never properly told you that I’m in love with you, but—”

“You’re in love with me?”

You relish in the way Seungcheol’s eyes widen. A cute blush spreads on his cheeks when he realizes what’s slipped out of his mouth. He doesn’t regret it, though. Especially when he sees how you light up at his words. Your eyes are shining with joy like he’s given you the only thing you’ve ever wanted. There’s also a hint of vulnerability that he doesn’t miss. It makes him realize he’s been overthinking and worrying for nothing.

“Of course I am. How could I not be?”

Seungcheol is more genuine than you’ve ever seen him, and you know right then that no one will ever make you feel as loved as he does. You grin and smash your lips onto his, your movements full of passion and need. He responds to your kiss eagerly and with a deep groan. His tongue slips into your mouth as his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer to him. Your soft lips feel like heaven, and Seungcheol wonders how he could’ve ever doubted that you don’t feel the same way.

When you pull away, you cup his face again. “I love you too, Seungcheol. I’m in love with you.”

The smile you get is blinding, and at that moment you know you’d do anything to keep that look on his face. 

“Yeah?” Seungcheol can’t keep the grin off his face. “You really love me?”

“More than anything.” You tell him honestly as you caress his face.

“Tell me again,” he demands cutely.

“I love you, Choi Seungcheol. I love you so much.”

His pretty smile is bigger than you’ve ever seen it. Seungcheol is a perfect picture of happiness, and you have to commit the beautiful sight to memory. He starts pressing sweet kisses all over your face, telling you how much he loves you between each one. You laugh joyfully as he holds you close. Nothing will ever compare to the feeling of having such an amazing man love you, and you wouldn’t trade him for anything in the world.

Seungcheol’s bright eyes look up at you with ardent love. The emotion is undeniable now, and it makes your heart soar all over again.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the trip,” you say as you run your hands through his hair. “I was going to tell you about it once you told me about your business trip.”

Seungcheol pouts at you. “I didn’t mention it because I was going to cancel—”

“I know,” you say in a chastising tone. “And although I love spending time with you, I don’t want you to always cancel your work trips because of me. Your work is important which is why I decided to go on the trip in the first place.”

Affection tightens around Seungcheol’s heart. He can’t believe he ever thought you might not love him when it’s so obvious that you do.

Seungcheol buries his face in your neck as his body slumps in relief. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, baby. I just hate being away from you.”

“I do too,” you admit easily. “You have no idea how much I want to be with you as much as possible. I just don’t want you to think I’m clingy.”

Seungcheol pulls back and keeps speaking to you with his cute pout that you love so much. “I like clingy. I’m yours so you can cling to me all you want.”

You grin slyly. “Okay. Just don’t regret it later.”

Seungcheol smiles and presses another chaste kiss to your lips. “Never.” 

For your stepdad, the small peck is not enough. He’s quick to deepen the kiss into a heated one. You moan when his tongue slips into your mouth. With a quiet whine, you grind down on the growing bulge pressing into you. Seungcheol groans as his hands slide under your shirt to undo the clasp of your bra. Immediately, you take your shirt off and discard it on the other side of the couch. Seungcheol tugs your bra off before he shoves his face between your soft tits. 

“God, I love these pretty tits,” Seungcheol’s hums as he mouths at your skin.

Big hands palm your tits, making you keen into him. Seungcheol smoothes his thumbs over your nipples over and over until they’re hard.

“Oh fuck,” you mewl as Seungcheol plants wet kisses on your stiff buds. Your hands tighten on his hair as he starts to lick and kiss your nipples.

“Fuck, baby. You just love it when I put my mouth on these pretty nipples, don’t you?” 

You moan in response as his grip on your tits gets firmer. Seungcheol squishes them together and starts to suck on both of your aching buds at the same time. You cry out and grind down on his huge bulge. Wetness pools in your panties as he starts nipping and biting at your stiff buds. He runs his tongue over your nipples until you’re crying out loudly.

“Daddy,” your eyes roll back as you go to tug on his hair. “Fuck. I love it when you suck on my nipples.”

Seungcheol groans. “Yeah? Daddy’s going to have to play with these pretty tits every day from now on then.”

Your clit pulses with need as you grind down on him. “Yes, daddy. Please.”

As always Seungcheol’s cock throbs when you ask him so politely. His hand slips into your panties to feel how wet you are. His groan is deep as his fingers glide across your slippery cunt, parting your needy slit to tease your clenching hole.

“You’re already so wet, baby,” he hisses in delight. “This needy little pussy needs my cock, hm?”

“Yes, Cheolie. Need your big cock to split me open,” you moan as you start to grind down on his fingers.

“You know I can’t deny this greedy pussy anything. Take off your clothes for me.”

With an excitement that makes Seungcheol’s heart swell with affection, you get off his lap to take off the remainder of your clothes. He does the same, discarding his shirt and tugging down his pants enough to free his cock. You salivate at the sight of his fat dick resting against his thigh. It’s throbbing and leaking and all ready for you to take.

You eagerly sit on his lap, mewling softly when you feel his cock throb and pulse against your cunt. Seungcheol reaches down and strokes his dick for a bit before he smacks it on your pussy. Slowly, he notches the leaking tip at your hole and guides himself in the first few inches before moving his hand away to grab your hip while the other reaches around to grope your ass.

“Come on, baby. Sit on it. Sit on your stepdad’s cock,” he grunts. Dark eyes watch your pretty tits as you slowly sink down his length. “Goddamn. This tight little pussy was made to be stretched out like this.”

Your eyes flutter shut once you feel him bottom out inside your cunt. No matter how many times you take his dick, you’ll never fully get used to the amazing feeling. “It’s so deep, Cheolie,” you whine wantonly. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

Seungcheol’s cock throbs, and he bucks his hips upward to fuck you even deeper. The rough motion makes you fall forward with a loud cry. You grab his shoulders and bury your face into his neck with a needy whine. Big hands grope your ass before they start bouncing you up and down on his cock. Your moans are loud and impetuous as he starts pumping his girthy cock into your gushing hole.

“Rub your cute little clit for me, princess,” Seungcheol directs you, not wanting to stop squeezing and kneading your plush ass. “Make yourself cum on daddy’s cock. Fuck. Squeeze my dick nice and tight, just how I like.”

Your hand quickly slides down between your bodies. A choked moan slips through your lips when your fingers circle and press down on your swollen bud. The ministrations make your velvety walls flutter and tighten on Seungcheol’s aching cock.

“Good fucking girl,” your stepdad groans as he slaps your ass. Once again, your cunt clenches in delight as you cry out. “Fuck, baby. Can’t wait to cream this sweet little pussy.”

You moan with every brutal thrust of his cock, wanting nothing more than for him to creampie your cunt. Seungcheol’s fat tip hammers against your g-spot ravenously, driving you closer to your orgasm. He slaps your ass repeatedly until you’re pushed over the edge. Your entire body trembles as your pussy milks his cock. 

Seungcheol moans when he feels your orgasm soak his dick completely. He fucks his cock deeper into your tight pussy until it’s fluttering around him all over again. With a deep grunt, he buries himself inside you and shoots his hot load into your cunt. Thick ropes of cum continuously stuff you to the brim until his seed starts to drip down his cock.

You sink into his chest, fully sated and satisfied. Seungcheol caresses your back and sides, making no move to slip out of you.

“I want to sleep with you tonight,” you mumble into his skin. “And every night from now on.”

Seungcheol grins and kisses your temple sweetly. “Don’t worry, baby. I already have plans to do just that. I’ll make it happen tonight.”

You hum in content, loving how he’s always so quick to give you what you want. Just knowing that you’ll be able to sleep beside him whenever you want now makes you feel deeply satisfied and excited. Finally, you’re a step closer to living the life you want with the man you love.

That night, you hear the argument between your mom and Seungcheol. You can’t keep the smirk off your face when he tells her to go to the guest bedroom downstairs and stay there from now on. Guilt and remorse are things you’re unable to feel, especially when you get a text from Seungcheol telling you you’re free to come to the master bedroom whenever you want.

Despite wanting to go right away, you wait a bit in case your mom comes up to your room. She never does. 

With a sly smile, you practically skip down the hall to the master bedroom. Seungcheol is beaming and smothers with sweet kisses when you close the door behind you. The feeling is sweet, and you immediately pull him into a needy kiss. Seungcheol groans into your mouth and starts to walk you to the bed, his lips never leaving yours.

You smile into the kiss when he pulls you closer to him. He’s just as excited as you are, and neither of you care that your mom is downstairs. You giggle against his mount when he falls back into the bed and takes you with him.

“Let me make you feel good, daddy,” you purr as you reach down to cup his cock.

“God, baby,” Seungcheol groans as you squeeze and rub his clothed dick. “You know I can never tell you no.”

You grin triumphantly and sit up to take your sleep shirt off. Seungcheol groans when he sees you’re completely naked underneath. You tug on his own shirt and he’s quick to discard it. He’s eyes flutter shut when you start trailing wet kisses down his chiseled torso. You slowly inch your way until you get to his sleep pants. Impatiently, you tug them down until his cock springs free.

It’s already starting to leak with precum, and you don’t wast any more time to get your treat. Seungcheol groans deeply when you lick up every last drop from his leaking tip. He feels your lips and tongue gently kissing and caressing at his fat cockhead, lathing underneath the skin before lapping up the drippy precum from his slit. You repeat your sinful motions before taking him fully into your hot, wet mouth.

“Mmh, good girl,” your stepdad groans as you start bobbing your head up and down his cock. 

Soft sucking noises sound through the room as you moan around his cock. A syrupy-like pleasure builds in Seungcheol’s lower abdomen as you eagerly suck his dick. He can only moan because it just feel so fucking good. A gently hand settles on your head, lovingly combing through your hair as you slobber all over his thick cock

You can feel yourself getting wet, especially when Seungcheol starts thrusting up into your mouth. The tip of his cock is hitting the back of your throat and makes you gag around him. You eagerly sink more of your mouth onto his leaking cock. A guttural moan slips out of your stepdad’s lips when he feels your spit dripping down his throbbing length.

Seungcheol’s fingers twitch in your hair as his pulsing tip brushes the back of your throat. He groans when you pull of his cock and plant adoring kisses all of his cockhead before dragging your lips down his thick cock. You sensually lick a broad stipe all the way up to the tip. Seungcheol’s cock throbs as you slide it between your lips again. A thick glob of precum spills out and you’re quick to lap it up. Seungcheol’s eyes roll back as you keep sinking your hot little mouth onto him.

At this point, he’s leaking with so much precum that you didn’t doubt he’ll give you your treat soon. You lick up every drop like it’s the tastiest thing ever. 

“Baby,” Seungcheol moans as you continue to suck his dick eagerly.

“Fuck. I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Be a good girl and swallow daddy’s load.”

With a wanton moan, you take his fat cock deeper down your throat until you’re choking around him. The feeling makes the coil in his stomach snap immediately. Seungcheol groans loudly as his balls tighten. His cock throbs and pulses wildly as he pumps a load of hot, sticky cum down your throat. You swallow everything he gives you, loving how ropes of his thick cum fill your mouth until it’s spilling around the edges and dribbling down his cock all the way to his heavy balls.

“That’s it, brat. Swallow all of daddy’s cum,” Seungcheol hums lovingly as he caresses your cheek.

You don’t move right away. Instead you pull of and start to kitten lick his twitching cock until all of his cum has been cleaned off. Seungcheol’s eyes are full of affection as you sit up. His eyes are drawn to your wet lips and blown out pupils. Just seeing the remnants of cum on your mouth makes his cock throb all over again.

Seungcheol sits up and smashes his mouth against your, moaning as you respond with as much eagerness. Without breaking the kiss, he lays you on your back and starts to trail wet kisses down your body, just like you did with him.

“Been thinking about eating your little pussy since earlier,” Seungcheol confesses as he spreads your legs. “Finally I can make you feel good in our bed.”

You moan when he presses a sweet kiss on your pulsing clit. He gently nips it, making you writhe in pleasure.

“Please,” you whine, bucking your hips impatiently.

Seungcheol groans and starts to make out with your pussy. He does it sensually, lips moving all across your heat. The way he sucks and licks your slick pussy lips makes you arch into him. The cute little noises you’re letting out are enough to get him hard all over again.

When he pulls back and spreads your lips with his fingers, he moans at seeing the amount of juices leaking from your pussy. Seungcheol greedily fucks his tongue into your wet hole, eager to lick up all your wetness. You moan loudly and roll your hips into his mouth, eyes crossing when his nose bumps your clit.

Your stepdad groans when you thread your fingers in his hair and tug on it. He fucks his tongue deeper into your fluttering hole, grinding his nose on your puffy but. Seungcheol’s dark eyes watch you fall apart, and it only makes him hungrier for you. He runs his tongue through your wet hole and immediately presses his face deeper into your cunt.

His hot tongue licks every inch of your dripping pussy. He laps up all the arousal leaking from your clenching heat. Seungcheol presses his nose down on your sensitive bud until you’re crying out for him. He can’t hold back his smirk when he feels your body start to tremble in his hold. Your grip on his hair tightens to make sure he keeps his mouth on your pussy. 

“Daddy!” You mewl, hips rolling into his mouth. “Gonna cream all over your tongue. Fuck!”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes watch you carefully as you arch up into his thrusting tongue, head grinding against the mattress as you moan loudly. He hums against your cunt, lapping up every drop of your orgasm. You’re completely satisfied as he places another kiss on your pulsing clit. He moves up over your body slowly, kissing every inch of your soft skin as he goes. 

Seungcheol goes to kiss you with a groan, pleased at the way your lips part to eagerly kissing him back. His fingers trail down to your pussy, smirking when you whine into his mouth. It’s loud and needy.

“Shh, baby,” Seungcheol’s tone is deep and wicked when he pulls away. “Your mom’s downstairs. You don’t want her to come up here and interrupt us, do you?”

You joked back another whine, clit throbbing underneath his fingers as he circles the swollen bud over and over again. His fingers dip down to part your pussy lips, gathering slick between the digits before sliding back up to rub wetly across your clit. He lightly spanks your cunt, making you buck your hips forward. 

“Daddy,” you whimper, nipples hard and aching in need. 

Seungcheol slides his cock between your juicy lips, soaking his fat length in your arousal. You moan so loud that your stepdad has to cover your mouth with his free hand while he uses the other to press his tip into your clenching hole. 

“Greedy little girl,” the way he laughs in your ear makes your cunt throb. “You don’t care that you’re gonna get us caught, baby.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flutter as more of your juices coat the tip of his dick while he presses himself deeper into your fluttering walls. You can’t stop whining against his palm as he works his cock all the way into your pussy, burying himself balls deep with a low groan. 

“Fuck, baby. You’re extra tight and wet tonight,” Seungcheol grins as he starts to roughly thrust into you. “You like that your mom can walk in on me stuffing your hot cunt?”

Your loud wail is muffled by his hand, and Seungcheol groans as his cock start to slam into your g-spot. He smirks when you start to grind up to meet his thrusts. Your stepdad slows his movements to gently grind his cock inside your soaked hole as his fingers tease your pudgy clit. 

“Should I just let you make all the noise you want?” He says as he fucks his cock deeper into your hot cunt. “Let your mom hear how much you like your stepdad fucking your tight little pussy.”

Pleasure pools in your stomach at the thought, pussy fluttering wildly around his cock. The milking compression of your cunt makes Seungcheol take his hand off your mouth. The thought of his wife hearing your filthy moans pushes him closer to the edge.

“You like that?” He laughs as his cock throbs. “Fuck. Nasty little brat. Of course you do.”

“You do too, daddy,” you moan quietly. “I can feel your cock throbbing inside me like it’s going to explode. I know you wish your wife could see me like this—stuffed full of your cock.”

Seungcheol groans deeply, fucking into you harder. His hips pick up speed as he fucks into your squelching pussy like a feral animal. “Goddamn. You’re squeezing me so tight, baby. Gonna make me creampie this cute pussy.”

Your stepdad doesn’t care that your moans are getting louder. He keeps slamming his cock into you with the goal of making you cream all over him. He feels your orgasm approaching from how much you’re tightening around him. Seungcheol’s fingers stop their slow pace and start rubbing your clit in tight little circles that make you squirm against him. 

“Cum for me, baby,” your stepdad grunts. “Cream all over my cock with your sexy little pussy. Show daddy how good he fucks you.”

Seungcheol rocks forward one more time, brushing across the spongy spot in your cunt. That band of arousal snaps. Your cunt clamps down on his cock like a vice, walls pulsing and fluttering around his fat length. 

“Daddy,” you whine into his neck, hips still fucking into his.

“Fuck that’s it. Such a good girl,” he whispers in your ear.

Seungcheol is close to his own orgasm, and he starts hammering his cock into your sensitive pussy. His fat dick is fucking into you so hard all you can do is whine and moan.

“Take daddy’s cum, princess. Fuck. Take it all,” he hisses as he buries himself to the hilt, cock pulsing as he shoots his load into your cunt. 

You whimper softly when you feel hot rope after rope of his thick cum filling your pussy to the brim. After a few minutes, he finally pulls out with a wet schlick. Cum drips from your used hole, and the sight makes your stepdad feral all over again.

Without warning, he shoves his cock back inside you. He stifles your cry of pleasure with a wet kiss. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as he snaps his hips into yours with the goal of completely ruining you.

“Da-Daddy!” You squeal against his lips. “Y-Your cock—too much!”

“Don’t be a brat,” Seungcheol groans as his cock presses deeper into you. “Not when you love it every time I do this.”

He’s right, and the ring of cream on his cock growing thicker and thicker is proof of that. You love it when he pushes you past your limits. Seungcheol loves it even more, though. He’s completely obsessed with the way you tremble against him and how your desperate whines never stop. He loves seeing how worked up you get on his cock.

“Maybe I should get this on video, so you’ll never forget.”

He reaches for his phone when you clench around him in agreement. Seungcheol can’t believe he didn’t think to record your first night in this room together earlier, but better late than never. He aims his phone where you two are connected, capturing the leaky mess that’s spilling from your cunt and down your ass. He has no doubt the video is perfectly catching your needy whines and the lewd squelching of your cunt. 

“Fuck, daddy. Hurry up and cum in me.”

Seungcheol grins deviously as your cream stains his cock. “Greedy little brat.”

It’s late when you two are done fucking. The thought of your mom was long forgotten. As you lay in Seungcheol’s arms (which feels more intimate than usual), you contemplate how you’re going to make sure you have him to yourself once and for all. You fall asleep easily as you picture a life where Seungcheol and you are living a happy life together.

You wake up feeling blissful, belatedly remembering why you’re not in your own room. A strong pair of arms pull you into a broad chest when you try to get up. You don’t try to fight the smile spreading on your face when you turn around in his arms to look at Seungcheol’s sleepy face.

“Morning, baby,” he murmurs. His voice is rough with sleep, making you press your thighs together. 

"Morning," you whisper, nuzzling into his neck.

Immediately, his hands go to your hips as he rubs his hard cock against your bare pussy. You sigh softly, noticing the tiniest bit of sunlight peeking through the blinds.

“We have a little bit of time before I have to be at work,” he kisses your neck as he rolls his hips to grind his cock against your slippery slit.

“Daddy,” you mewl, bucking forward with a whine. “Want you in my pussy.”

Seungcheol groans and rolls over until he’s on top of you, pressing your body down into the mattress. Your toes curl in anticipation as your pussy clenches around nothing. “Want me to fill up your cute little cunt?” 

You smirk at him. “I want you to breed me, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, rocking against you harder. His cock throbs and pulses as it glides between your puffy lips. “Daddy’s gonna make you feel so good, baby.”

With that, he ruts his thick cock against your slick cunt, fat tip pressing right on your clit. “Gonna fuck this little pussy nice and deep.”

You shudder, eyes fluttering shut as Seungcheol presses his cock into your drippy hole. He grunts, shoving himself as deep as possible until you're squirming from the pleasurable pain of his tip kissing your cervix. 

“That’s it,” he moans, “My little brat’s got the tightest fucking cunt.”

Your nails scratch along his back, making him grind even harder against you as your pussy squeezes around his dick rhythmically. Seungcheol fucks your pussy with slow thrusts, barely pulling out before fucking back into your pliant body. You lose complete track of everything, only able to feel Seungcheol’s cock stretches you open. He loses control as he bullies into your hot cunt over and over. 

All you can hear is skin on skin as Seungcheol stuffs your pussy with his thick cock. He moves his hand in between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit. You trade soft wet kisses, tongues slipping back and forth. With every thrust, Seungcheol drags his cock along your g-spot, sloppy squelching noises filling the room, disturbing the quiet ambiance.  

You’re in a daze, orgasm coiling tight in your lower belly as Seungcheol’s thick cock slips in and out of your clenching hole. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you moan softly, pulling him in for another wet kiss. 

“Then do it, baby. Cum all over my cock. Squeeze me tight so I can breed this cute little pussy,” he groans, hips snapping harder against you.

He picks up his pace, fucking you quicker than before. His girthy cock plunges into your drippy cunt hard as his hand rubs your sensitive bud with firm circles. 

“Oh, oh!” You let out a breathy cry as your orgasm washes over you in a slow wave of pleasure.

“Fuck, baby. Tight little pussy feels so good.”

Your body is still thrumming with aftershock as you wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy clenches down on his cock like a vice, milking him as he fills your cunt with hot, sticky cum.

“So much cum,” you mewl tiredly. 

Seungcheol bites your neck gently, cum leaking out around his thick shaft, “You love it.”  

The high of climaxing is still bubbling in your veins. “Mhm. Love it when you fill me up with cum.”

He pulls out with a hiss, loving how his cum drips out of you and down to your pretty ass. Seungcheol wishes that he could stay in bed with you, but you remind him that he doesn’t have that option. You laugh as he gets out of bed with a pout. Eventually, you get up to go shower in your own room, feeling more rested than you have in a long time.

After you shower, Seungcheol sent you a message to let you know he left first. You laugh when you read the sulky part of his message about not getting a goodbye kiss from you. With a promise to never let it happen again, you go downstairs and find your mom sitting on the couch. You’re surprised to see that she’s still home, but you don’t say anything about it.

“Hey, mom.”

“Sweetheart,” she smiles, but it looks forced. “Sorry I didn’t make any breakfast. I woke up late.”

Although her breakfast is never anything special, she never deviates from her routine. Not waking up on time is so unlike her, and you know it’s because Seungcheol kicked her out of their bedroom. You sit on the other end of the couch and watch her closely. She doesn’t look at you. Her stare is blank as if she’s completely numb.

“Are you okay, mom? You look—”

“Sweetheart,” she interrupts, not really hearing you. “Will you do me a favor?”

“Sure,” you say even though you feel unsure of what she’s going to ask for. “What is it?”

“Will you spend more time with Seungcheol? He’s been distant lately, and I…” she trails off, but you know what she’s trying to say.

“You think he won’t cheat on you if I’m around.”

Finally, she looks at you. “It’s only temporary. Just until he’s not mad at me anymore.”

You nod solemnly, barely holding back your devious grin. “Sure, mom. I’ll make sure to keep an eye on him.”

You press the button to the top floor, fixing your blouse and skirt so you look perfect. Ever since you decided to cling to Seungcheol to your heart’s desire, you’ve been visiting him at work whenever you had the chance. 

As always, you’re greeted warmly by the staff as you walk towards the back where Seungcheol’s office is. As the boss, he has a personal office away from where the rest of the workers are. You walk down the hall with a smile, excited at seeing your stepdad again. You knock on the door and wait for him to give you the green light to come in.

“Cheolie.”

Seungcheol smiles at the sound of your voice. He disregards the work on his desk and stands to greet you with a kiss.

“Come here, baby.”

He walks you over to his desk and pulls you down to his lap as he  sits on his chair. You’re straddling one of his thick thighs, and immediately you start to get wet. Your hands come up to brace against his shoulders while his slacks rub against your bare thighs where your skirt is hiked up.

Seungcheol presses a soft kiss on your neck, leaving a heated trail up to your jaw. Pulling back, you can see how dark his eyes have gotten. “I’m glad you’re here, princess. Been thinking about you all day.”

One of his hands tangles into your hair as he guides your mouth down to his. Your parted lips lets him slip his tongue into your mouth. Groaning, he grabs your ass with his free hand and urges you to roll your hips forward. You whine, feeling so hot and dizzy with arousal. Your clit pulses with excitement as you follow the guidance of his hand and start to grind your hips down into his leg. You eagerly suck on his tongue when he thrusts it into your mouth. You feel him groan low in his chest, and it makes you arch into him more. Whining, your hands come up to tangle in his messy blonde hair, tugging gently when he sucks on your tongue. 

“You taste so good, baby,” he whispers against your mouth before dragging his lips down your jaw. “Fuck. I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy right on top of my desk.”

“Daddy,” you whimper, rocking your hips forward, and he groans, hands sliding to wrap around your waist. “What if we get caught?”

“No one comes in here without my permission,” he reassures you. “So we can do anything we want, baby.”

“Don’t be so greedy, daddy,” you laugh through a moan as your stepdad trails wet kisses down your neck. “What will your subordinates think if they see me walk out of here with your cum dripping down my leg?”

Seungcheol groans against your soft skin, cock throbbing at the mere thought. He gives you a nasty smirk, and right then you know what’s going to happen next.

“They’ll think that you’re the woman who’s going to be my future wife.”

“Fuck,” your eyes flutter while he sucks on your neck.

“So let daddy cream your sweet pussy, brat. You know you want me to stuff you full.”

You whine in need. “Yes, fuck. Cream my little cunt, daddy.”

“Good girl,” he nips at your jaw. “I’m gonna breed you until it’s time to go home, baby.”

Your toes curl in your heels as you gasp and grind down on his thick thigh.

Seungcheol smirks. “You like that, princess? Like that I’m gonna creampie your needy cunt? Of course you do. Slutty little brat loves it when her stepdad breeds her, hm?” 

Your pussy flutters and throbs at his filthy words. You’re so turned on that you can’t hide your erotic expression.

“We haven’t even started yet, and you’re already acting cockdrunk,” he says through a laugh.

“Daddy,” you whimper as you rolls your hips. “Want you so bad.”

“Look at the mess you’ve made, sweetheart,” Seungcheol groans as his eyes drop down to where you’re grinding your pussy on him. “Just look at how your needy little pussy’s soaking my pants. Fuck. That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on my thigh like a good girl.”

Your nails dig into his shoulders, wrinkling the fabric of his designer shirt. It all feels so good, and you know you can cum from this alone. You whine, humping down onto his leg harder. Your juices pool in your panties and drip all over his pants.

“God damn, baby. Such a good fucking girl. Always so good for me,” he lets go of your hair to grab the back of your neck. “Always so eager to please.”

Seungcheol smirks as he slides his thumb into your panting mouth. He presses it down on your tongue and lets you suck on it before pulling his thumb free and smearing spit all over your lips. You whine again, desperate for him to give you what you want. Your stepdad lets you go only to tug your button up blouse open. 

“You have the prettiest fucking tits,” he groans as he pulls undoes you bra and tosses it behind him.

Your breasts are completely bare, aching nipples on display and eager for his touch. Seungcheol slowly drags his fingers across the swell of your tits. He circles your sensitive nipples, thumbs brushing the hardening buds. Your breath hitches as arousal pulses in your cunt.

“Cheolie,” you say to make him give in, but it only makes him want to savor you more.

“Daddy’s going to make a mess out of you just by teasing your pretty tits.”

Your back arches into him, pressing your tits into his hands. “Please, daddy. They’re so sensitive”

Seungcheol groans and gently tugs your nipples. He pinches them roughly before soothing them with slow drags of his fingers. Panting, your hands twist in the fabric of his shirt. Your clit throbs with every brush against your nipples, and you can’t stop keening into his touch. 

Everything Seungcheol is doing has more arousal pool in your panties. You’re so wet, and it keeps dripping down to where your stepdad’s pants are pressed against your pussy. You can see his big cock straining against his pants. A thrill goes up your spine knowing you’re the cause.

“Always so eager for me, princess,” he teases, voice deep and raspy. 

Seungcheol lifts you off his thigh and settles you right on his growing cock. Your hands go up to his hair and tug gently as you roll your hips on the huge bulge in his slacks. He gives your nipples a sharp tug then tweaks them as you writhe in his grasp.

“Just look at how wet you are, baby,” he groans, dark gaze drawn to the juices dripping from your panties. “Desperate little slut.”

A pleased sigh tumbles past your lips as you continue to play with his hair.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N.” Seungcheol growls out, letting his gaze roam across your swollen nipples and  up to your dazed expression. “Always acting so sweet and making me want to do the filthiest things to you.”

“Yeah?” You whimper excitedly.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what you do to me, sweetheart,” he says as he drags one of his hands from your chest up to your lips. You moan when he slips two fingers into your mouth. “Want to keep you on my cock all the time. Can’t stand not being inside you.”

Seungcheol presses his fingers deeper into your mouth. You whine and suckle on them softly, swirling your tongue around them like you would his cock. Your stepdad grunts and pulls them out with a soft pop.

“Touch me, daddy,” you demand through a throaty whisper as he drags those fingers down to your puffy nipples.

Seungcheol concedes immediately. He greedily mouths at each tit and sucks on your nipples, teeth catching on the sensitive buds until you’re clawing at his shoulders again.

“Such a bratty little girl,” he hums fondly, feeling you shudder at the endearment. “But always so good for me. You’ll be good for me this time too, right?”

“So good,” you promise with a grin.

That’s all your stepdad needs to hear to suck one of your hard nipples into his mouth as his hand teases across the other with quick flicks of his damp fingers. Like always, he goes back and forth, swapping sides as his dark gaze watches you bite your lip and toss your head back at the pleasure. Pulling away a little, Seungcheol grabs each tit and presses them together—an action he’s becoming fond of lately. He runs his tongue from one nipple to the other more easily, suckling them until you’re squirming in his lap.

Seungcheol groans low in his chest and rolls his hips to grind his cock against your hot, wet cunt, almost jostling you from his lap. In the same motion, Seungcheol’s sharp teeth tug on one of your nipples, earning a breathy cry from you. He swaps to the other nipple, using his teeth so you’ll reward him with more of those sounds. After repeatedly teasing each nipple with his teeth, you tug on his hair in a silent plea to slow down. He eases off from biting to soft, gentle sucks.

“Love your tits, baby,” he mouths at your nipples. “So fucking perfect.”

You cry out at the hot, wet suction of Seungcheol’s mouth on your sore nipples. Your back arches forward to press your chest closer to his hungry teeth and tongue. You start grinding your hips down, feeling him moan against your tits. With a sly grin, you repeat the motion only this time your clit grinds against Seungcheol’s slacks, earning a low cry of want.

“Cheolie,” you whimper.

He only hums in reply as he keeps up the hot suction on each hardened nub. You try rolling your hips again only to be stopped by a strong grip on your waist.

“I want you to cum from this,” Seungcheol grunts, voice deep as his tongue lashes against your abused nipple. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

You mewl, clit pulsing in arousal. “Yes, daddy.”

A sharp tug of teeth on your nipple has you arching in pleasurable pain. Your hands slide up into his hair again to hold him in place so he keeps worshiping your chest. “So perfect,” Seungcheol murmurs, lazily mouthing his way up to your neck. “So sweet for me.”

The way he speaks against your skin and gently kisses across your collar bones drives you crazy. You feel dizzy and aroused. All you can do is grind down on the outline of his hard cock and tug his hair to pull him into a soft kiss. Seungcheol groans low in his chest, pressing you harder against him as he licks into your mouth. He teasingly nips at your bottom lip, sucking on it gently before slipping his tongue further in. You moan in response, loving the feel of his slick tongue teasing your own. His hands came up and grip your hair, tilting your head at an angle where he can kiss you even deeper than before.

Before long, the kiss becomes sloppy and wet, but neither of you care. You can’t stop whining in pleasure as his tongue fucks into your mouth and teases your own. Chest rumbling in pleasure, Seungcheol draws your tongue into his mouth to suck on it greedily. You slip your tongue away to pull his plump bottom lip into his mouth, nibbling gently before softly sucking. You drag your teeth aggressively against Seungcheol’s lip, tongue following in silent apology for the rough treatment. 

Your stepdad growls and pulls back far enough for you to let his lip go with a small pout. His cock twitches at how debauched you look. Pupils blown wide with lust and lips swollen. He moves his hands from your hair to grip your hips. You know his hold is tight enough to bruise, but you only moan in appreciation. Fingers start to roughly pinch and rub your swollen, sore nipples again. His dark eyes never leave yours as you edge closer and closer to orgasm. Your cunt is copiously dribbling with arousal.

“I’m so close, daddy,” you whimper, grinding down on him like an animal in heat.

Seungcheol smirks and decides to tease you a little. His fingers lightly grace the hard peaks, not fully giving them the attention they crave. His gaze drops from yours to take in the swollen nipples his fingers are touching. He groans loudly, knowing he can’t deny himself another taste. You grip his head as your stepdad starts eagerly lap at your nipples, running his tongue across each one before gently biting.

“Daddy!”

Seungcheol bites down harder on your left nipple as he gives the right a sharp twist. Your eyes roll back in your head as he gets even more aggressive. Harsh bites followed by a hot soothing tongue has your cunt dripping and needy.

“I know you like it rough, baby.”

You can only moan wantonly in reply since Seungcheol doesn’t let up the assault on your abused chest. You continue to gasp and moan in the otherwise quiet office. Your stepdad is being so rough on you, and you love it. Want him to pin you down right here and now. Make you cum all over yourself. Make you take his thick cock over and over until everyone in the building knows he’s fucking you.

Seungcheol groans against your tit as your orgasm abruptly hits you. He can feel you soaking his pants, and he helps you ride out your high by grinding you harder on his clothes cock. Without giving you time to recover, he hoist you up on his large desk, shoving his laptop out of the way. His dark eyes locked onto your white panties, nearly transparent from how wet they are.

“Daddy,” you hiss, squirming on his desk as he reaches under your skirt to tug your panties off. 

Clear strings of slick web between the fabric and your glistening pussy lips making him groan in his throat. 

“Fuck, princess. You always look good enough to eat,” he growls as he pockets your panties and pushes your skirt up.

You moan loudly when he holds your legs open and leans down to kiss your slit. His hands smooth over your thighs and press you open even wider.

“Want daddy to lick your pretty cunt?” He asks, teasingly blowing air on your pussy. 

“You promised, Cheolie,” you whine.

Seungcheol hums in acknowledgment as he licks up your slick coating your thighs. “Try not to be too loud, baby.”

With a smirk, he flattens his tongue and laps at your cunt, parting your folds and pressing the tip into your hole. A whine spills past your lips and Seungcheol groans. He hungrily licking into your pussy like he’s never tasted anything so good. Your stepdad sucks on your clit with the perfect amount of suction that has your toes curling and eyes rolling back. His hands come up and pull your pussy open, letting him lick and kiss and suck your swollen bundle of nerves until you’re humping his face.

“Fuck, daddy. You’re so dirty for eating your stepdaughter’s pussy on your desk. What would your workers say if they knew how much of a perv you are?”

Seungcheol moans, fucking his tongue deeper into your dripping hole. “They would understand if they knew how sweet my stepdaughter’s cunt tastes.”

You cry out when he starts sucking on your clit, eager to get you to cum again. His tongue flicks and laps at your puffy bud, loving how your juices flow right into his mouth. All it takes is an affectionate nip on your clit for you to cum all over his face. Seungcheol groans as you cry out his name, cock throbbing and twitching in his pants as you ride out your high on his tongue.

“Fuck, baby. You did so good for me.”

You mewl as your pussy clenches. The sound of his belt unbuckling sends a fresh wave of arousal over you. Lust builds within you as he pulls away from your pussy, lips and chins shiny with your release. He stands with his cock sticking out of his pants, leaking and pulsing with the need to be inside you.

Seungcheol slaps his aching cock down onto your cunt repeatedly. The lewd plap sound fills his office, making you buck into the heat of his dick. With a guttural groan he ruts his cock against your clit until you’re wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

“Daddy,”  you drag out the word through a needy whine as he teases you.

Your stepdad smirks as he swipes his fat tip up and down your folds. His cock notches against your cunt and he thrusts forward, but it slips upward, parting your slit to bump your pudgy clit. You whimper when you feel his balls press against your ass. With a mean laugh, he grabs the base of his cock and presses it against your hole again. He uses his thumb to press on the head of his dick, guiding himself slowly into your pussy, dipping it inside your hole completely.

You let out a sigh of pleasure as Seungcheol groans at the feeling of him fucking his cock deeper into you. Your pussy spasms around his girthy leg th once he’s buried inside you to the hilt.

“So fucking tight,” he growls, pulling his dick out halfway to thrust back inside. “So much better than your mom.”

Your pussy ripples and clenches while you cry out, his words burning hot in your ears. He doesn’t let you take any time to adjust to his size and starts a slow, hard pace, cock bullying in and out of your pussy and rattling his desk. Your stepdad pushes you flat against the desk and cages your body, dick grinding deep in your pussy and making you whine. The new angle has Seungcheol’s cock rubbing against your g-spot. Your eyes roll back as Seungcheol fucks your pussy with quick, rough thrusts.

“Dirty little slut. What would people say if they knew I was breeding my stepdaughter on my desk?”

You clench down tightly on his cock and he hisses, eyes staring down at you as he grins. 

“Filthy girl. You like that? Maybe we should let them watch so they can see how much you like your stepdad creaming your hot pussy,” he uses his other hand to slip between you and rub your clit. “The they’d know that you’re addicted to my cum.”

His fingers glide across your swollen bud in a way that has you crying out for him. That paired with the way his cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt has your orgasm rolling over your body. He laughs delightedly and pumps his cock in and out of your squelching hole. 

“My little brat always cums so hard,” he grunts softly.

“Fuck. Gonna breed your slutty little pussy. Gonna knock you up.”

Your pussy flutters and milks his cock as he buries himself balls deep and shoots his load inside you. He drops his head into your neck as he slowly ruts inside your cunt, hot sticky cum flooding your walls until it's dripping out of your stuffed hole. The thought of you getting caught being creampied by your stepdad is making you horny all over again. 

The flex of his cock pulls your thoughts back to him, and you realize Seungcheol slowly thrusting in and out of your pussy, cum dripping all over his desk as he fucks his seed deeper into you.

“Fuck, baby. This sloppy pussy is making daddy hard again. You don’t care if I breed you some more, right, princess?”

You go to kiss him and mewl into his mouth. “Fuck me again, daddy. Don’t stop until I’m carrying your baby.”

Seungcheol groans and pulls out of you slowly, smirking when cum oozes from your cunt. He licks his lips and sits back on his chair. He effortlessly picks you up and sits you back on his dick.

“God, baby. Still so fucking tight,” Seungcheol groans as he smacks your ass.

Your stepdad doesn’t give you anytime to adjust and fucks up into you, grabbing your hips to pull you down at the same time. You scream from the feeling in your spasming cunt. Without waiting for your pussy to adjust, he pulls out halfway to bully his fat cock back into your aching hole.

“Fuck me, daddy,” you cry out. “Make me cream on your fat cock again.”

“Fuck,” Seungcheol pulls you down until his cock is buried deep in your pussy. “I’ll have to give my little brat what she wants, hm?”

With that, he pulls out until just the tip is teasing your wet hole then shoves his cock back deep inside your pussy. You’re moaning loudly and clinging onto his shoulders. A pleasurable heat is slowly building in your abdomen. You whine as your hips roll down onto the thick cock stretching you out. It takes you a while to realize Seungcheol stopped thrusting and now you’re the one fucking his cock.

“Good girl,” Seungcheol smacks your ass again and you moan. He smirks and starts guiding your hips to fuck harder. “Such a needy slut. Just for me.”

“Only for you, daddy,” you agree through a moan.

Your brain is completely fuzzy from how deep he is inside your cunt. Seungcheol laughs in absolute delight, loving how you’re completely his. His thumb brushes against your clit in slow circles, eager to see you make a mess on his dick all over again.

“Cream on my cock, princess. I want you squeezing me when I breed this little pussy.”

You moan loudly, hips gyrating down on his cock in excitement. “Fuck. Please, daddy!”

“That’s it, baby,” he groans low in his chest. “Keep working daddy’s dick. Fuck. I’m gonna creampie your sweet little cunt.”

Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. With his hard cock fucking into you and his thumb rubbing dizzying circles on your clit, you’re close to reaching your climax. “Gonna cum, daddy. Gonna make a mess all over your big cock.”

Seungcheol hums in approval and pulls his thumb away from your clit before he spits on your pussy. The glob of drool slowly drips down your clit. He brings his thumb back to rub the slippery mess over and over and over into your sensitive bud. Your back arches, eyes rolling back, as you clamp down on his pistoning dick. Slick coats his cock as you cum, pussy walls squeezing him like a vice.

“Fuck yes,” he hisses, thumb still pressing into your clit. “Cream my cock so I can fill up your pretty pussy.”

Your thighs jump and twitch from overstimulation as he keeps teasing your clit and grinding his cock deep in your cunt.

“Take all of daddy’s cum, baby. It’s all for you,” he groans out, snapping his hips up into your squelching hole and pumping you full of hot cum.

You moan brokenly, pussy fluttering around his throbbing cock. At this moment, you know you won’t be able to get over the feeling of getting creampied by your stepdad at his work. You can tell Seungcheol feels the same way. He fucks his cum into you until neither of you can handle the overstimulation. 

Seungcheol leans back into his chair with a pleased sigh. “God. I should’ve had you come by sooner.”

Your thoughts are still hazy, so you only hum in response.

“Did I fuck you dumb, baby?” Seungcheol smirks, pinching your nipples until you’re squealing.

You go to get off of him, but he keeps you in place. “Stay.” He says tenderly. “I’m almost done with my work, then we can go home.”

You slump against his chest and nuzzle your face into his neck. “Okay.”

Did you see anything?

You roll your eyes as you shift on Seungcheol’s cock. He’s typing away on his computer, completely focused on his work.

No. He was just working.

“Are you okay, princess?” Seungcheol wonders suddenly, dropping his head to press a kiss into your hair.

“Yeah. Just updating your wife about how good you’re being,” you say with a laugh. 

Seungcheol hums and contemplates his next course of action. While he wants to get rid of your mom soon, he still hasn’t talked it over with you. He still doesn’t know how you’re going to feel about what he has planned.

“Cheolie,” you call, snapping him out of his thoughts. “I know you’re going to leave my mom, but before you do, let’s have some more fun first.”

You’re looking at him with a naughty grin, and it makes his cock throb inside you. Seungcheol smirks and kisses you deeply. You two really are meant to be together, and he’ll make sure everyone knows that sooner than later.

[gf2bellamy]

hi, first of all, I love your stories and am a fan of your work 💓 I have a request, in a case with the team, spencer meets a girl who understands his intelligence and talks about the same topics like: science and the reader feels jealous and insecure that she is not smart enough for him despite working at BAU.

insecure — spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader ( no use of y/n ) contente warnings: established relationship, reader feels insecure / not smart enough and jealous , some tears, but otherwise it's just emotional fluff <3 a/n: hii !!! hope you like this :) also another john steinbeck mention sorry ( found this in my drafts whoops )

The words washed over you like static—scientific facts, literary references, inside jokes that might as well have been a foreign language.

You stood beside Spencer, arms crossed, staring blankly at the crime scene photos pinned to the board. The images should have held your focus, but they blurred at the edges, your mind too occupied with the conversation happening just inches away. 

Spencer and a woman from the field office, were exchanging rapid-fire dialogue about something you couldn’t follow.

A quip about quantum physics, maybe, or a pun so niche it sailed right over your head. Whatever it was, it made her laugh and Spencer chuckled in response, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way you loved. 

You knew Spencer loved you. He told you constantly—in cozy moments before bed, in rushed kisses on your temple between cases, in the way his fingers lingered whenever he handed you a coffee.

But right now, watching him so effortlessly connect with someone who spoke his language you felt like an outsider in your own relationship. 

You swallowed hard, forcing your attention back to the case files. 

Then, a gentle touch at the small of your back. 

Spencer’s hand was warm, his thumb brushing lightly over your spine before he pulled away to circle something on the map. “You okay?” he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. 

You nodded, offering him a quick smile. “Yeah.” 

But the word felt hollow. You turned away before he could read the lie in your eyes, pretending to sift through the files at the end of the table. It was easier to focus on the paperwork than the quiet ache settling in your ribs. 

You managed to keep up the act until it was time to leave. 

Just as you reached the door, the woman called out to Spencer again, something about an obscure novel you’d never heard of. He responded without hesitation, and you bit your lip, staring at the floor as you waited.

A beat passed. Then another. 

Finally, Spencer’s footsteps followed, and before you could take another step, his fingers slid between yours, squeezing gently. 

“Hey,” he said softly, tugging you to a stop just outside the conference room. His brows knit together as he searched your face. “You’ve been quiet.” 

You shrugged, forcing another smile. “Just tired.” 

Spencer wasn’t fooled. He never was. But he let you be. 

He knew you—knew the way your fingers tapped restlessly against your thigh when you were upset, the way your gaze fixed on nothing when you were lost in thought. Right now, you were doing both, and though every instinct in him screamed to press, to fix, he held back. If you needed space, he’d give it to you. 

On the jet, he sat beside you, close enough that his knee brushed yours. Normally, you’d lean into him, your head finding its place against his shoulder, your fingers lacing through his without a second thought.

But today, you kept your distance, arms folded tight across your chest as you stared out the window.

Spencer set a coffee in front of you, just how you liked it. You didn’t grin at him like usual. Instead, you offered a faint, wary smile that didn’t reach your eyes before turning away again. 

His stomach twisted. 

Across the aisle, Emily glanced up from her file, her eyes flickering between the two of you. Spencer met her gaze. Then, Emily raised an eyebrow, tilting her head subtly toward the kitchenette. 

Spencer hesitated. His hand was still on your thigh, his thumb tracing absent circles over the fabric of your pants. He gave you one last gentle squeeze before standing, half-hoping you’d reach for him, pull him back. 

You didn’t even look up. 

Emily was already pouring coffee when he reached her, her expression unreadable. “What’s up?” Spencer asked, leaning against the counter. 

She didn’t answer right away, stirring sugar into her cup slowly. Then, without looking at him: “You chatted a lot with that woman.” 

Spencer blinked. “What woman?” 

Emily shot him a look. “The one you talked about all that nerdy science stuff with? At the precinct?” 

It took him a second—then it clicked. The local liaison, the one who’d laughed at his terrible pun. He hadn’t even registered the interaction beyond professional courtesy. But you had. 

His stomach dropped. “Oh,” he said, voice quiet. 

Emily studied him over the rim of her mug. “You really didn’t notice, did you?” 

Spencer ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply. “I was just—it was case-related. Mostly.” 

“Mostly,” Emily repeated, dry. 

“I wasn’t—” He cut himself off, frustration bubbling up. Not at her, not at you, but at himself. How had he missed it? How had he not seen the way you’d withdrawn, the way your smile had faltered? 

Emily sighed, setting her coffee down. “Reid, look. You’re brilliant, but sometimes you’re oblivious.” 

He swallowed hard, glancing back at you. You were still staring out the window, your reflection ghostly against the glass. His chest ached. 

Without another word, he pushed off the counter and crossed the cabin, sinking back into the seat beside you. This time, he didn’t hesitate—he reached for your hand, threading his fingers through yours and squeezing tight. 

You turned to him, looking at him for a long moment, his warm hand still enveloping yours. Part of you wanted to pull away, to protect that bruised, vulnerable part of your heart that still stung from earlier. But you didn't.

Then you caught Emily's gaze from across the jet. She looked away quickly, but not before you saw the knowing glint in her eyes, the subtle satisfaction in the way she sipped her coffee.

Of course.

You turned back to the window, but you kept your fingers laced with his. The rest of the flight passed in quiet. Spencer didn't push. His shoulder was solid under your cheek when you finally gave in and leaned against him, his fingers never once loosening their grip on yours.

An hour later you reached his apartment. You kicked off your shoes by the door as you suppressed a yawn.

"Are you okay?" Spencer's voice was soft behind you.

You turned to face him, forcing a smile. "Yeah." 

He didn't look convinced. His brows knit together as he stepped closer, hands hovering like he wasn't sure if he should reach for you. "You've been quiet since—" 

"I'm fine, Spencer." The words came out sharper than you intended, and you watched as his face fell, just slightly. Guilt twisted in your gut. "Just tired." 

Spencer exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything." 

Of course you knew. But this—this insecurity, this childish fear that you weren't enough, not smart enough—it stuck in your throat, stubborn and suffocating. 

"Yeah, I know." Your smile felt thin as you turned to hang up your jacket, fingers fumbling slightly with the hanger.

When you turned around, he was right there - closer than you expected. His long fingers twitched at his sides like he wanted to reach for you but wasn't sure he should.

"Do you?" he asked softly, the words tentative, his head tilted in that way that meant he was analyzing every microexpression. 

You bit your lip, the familiar sting of tears threatening behind your eyes. Forcing yourself to meet his gaze, you raised your hands to his face, thumbs smoothing over the deep furrow between his brows.

"Yes," you murmured, "just not feeling too great today." 

Your hand drifted down to cup his cheek, thumb brushing the sharp plane of his cheekbone. You hoped he wouldn't notice the slight tremor in your fingers, but of course he did - Spencer noticed everything. His eyes darkened with concern, and he caught your wrist gently, turning his face into your palm to press a kiss there. 

"You've been quiet since the precinct," he observed, his voice carefully neutral. Too carefully. You recognized his profiling tone - the one he used when he was trying to understand without pushing. 

"I'm just tired," you lied again, pulling away to busy yourself with straightening the blanket on the couch.

Spencer followed, his socked feet silent on the hardwood.

"You know," he said slowly, "when I was eleven, I memorized The Grapes of Wrath because I thought it would make my mom happy." He paused, waiting until you turned to face him. "It didn't. Because what she really needed wasn't facts or figures. She just needed me to sit with her." 

Your breath caught. 

His hands found yours, long fingers threading between yours. "I don't need you to understand every reference or equation," he murmured, bringing your joined hands to his chest where you could feel his heartbeat. "I just need you here. With me." 

The dam broke. A tear slipped free, then another. Spencer made a soft, wounded sound and gathered you close, his chin resting atop your head as you buried your face in his sweater. 

"I felt so stupid," you admitted, the confession muffled against his chest where his heartbeat thrummed beneath your ear. The wool of his sweater scratched lightly at your cheek as you turned your face deeper into him, hiding from the vulnerability of your own words. "Watching you two talk like that. Listening to you talk about things I didn't understand." 

Spencer's hands - those elegant, restless hands that could calculate bullet trajectories in seconds but still fumbled with simple knots - slid up to cradle the back of your head with the most gentle touch possible.

His fingers tangled gently in your hair as he pulled back just enough to see your face, his thumbs brushing away the dampness on your cheeks you hadn't even realized was there. 

"I love you because you're you," he said, voice so tender it made your breath catch. His palm came to rest over your heart, warm even through the fabric of your shirt. "Because you see people—really see them—in a way I never could. You notice the way Garcia's smile doesn't reach her eyes on bad days before she even says a word. You're the one who always remembers to bring Morgan that terrible gas station coffee he likes after overnight surveillance." 

His fingers traced the line of your jaw with reverence, calloused fingertips catching slightly on your skin.

"You know exactly what books I want to read when I'm too overwhelmed to think straight," he continued. "And when I'm lost in my own head..." His hands cradling your face. "You're the only one who knows how to bring me back." 

He smiled softly at you.

"You're my home," he murmured, the words so simple yet so devastating in their truth. "All the equations in the world couldn't change that." 

A tear escaped despite your best efforts, tracing a hot path down your cheek. Spencer caught it with his thumb, his touch achingly gentle as he brushed it away.

"You're too sweet, Spence," you finally managed, the words coming out watery and broken between a sob and a laugh. Your fingers twisted in the fabric of his sweater.

Spencer huffed a quiet laugh, his nose brushing against yours. "Only for you," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. "Always only for you." 

[cayleeuhithinknott]

— fixing sub!matt’s insecurities. . . tw: pegging

you were so relieved that your shift was over.

work had been exhausting, and you were beyond excited to get home and spend some time with matt. however, as you stepped through the front door of your shared apartment, something was…weird.

something was off.

you could always tell when matt was in a bad mood. something about the air and mood of your usually happy and cozy home just felt wrong.

and the moment you walked into the bedroom, you could tell.

matt looked beyond upset. the way he was sulking in the mirror, staring at his shirtless self like the mirror owed him an apology. like even his own face was letting him down. like his reflection was telling him everything he feared to be true. like—

"matt?"

his head whips toward you, tearing his gaze away from the full length mirror. his eyes were rimmed red, his lips slightly pouty. god, he looked so cute.

“what’s wrong, honey?” you approach him, sitting down on the hardwood floor in front of the mirror and pulling him down with you. matt looks down at the floor, flooded with embarrassment, then looks back up at his reflection.

he doesn’t answer at first. just keeps staring at his reflection like it’s said something cruel to him.

you ask again, quieter this time. “what’s wrong, matt?”

he finally exhales, his jaw clenched tightly. “i don’t like the way i look,” his voice is low, barely audible above a whisper. “i know you always say all these things about me, but I don’t see it. i don’t see what you see.”

he swallows hard, eyes flickering down. “i look in the mirror and i feel…i don’t know. average. not enough. like i’m just—some guy. and you’re…y’know…you.”

his fingers twitch at his sides. “you could have anyone, i mean, look at you. but you’re stuck with this.”

your expression drops instantly.

“stuck with you?” you repeat, shifting closer.

“matt, baby, i chose you. i want you.”

you reach out, gently grabbing his face so he’s forced to look at you. “do you know how silly you sound right now?” you say it softly, thumbing his cheek.

“you’re not just some guy. you’re mine. and you have no idea what it does to me when i look at you.” you turn his head back toward the mirror and move your hand down, fingers skimming the his v-line, his sweats hanging loose on his hips.

“but—“

“no. if you could see yourself the way i do… maybe then you’d stop being so mean to my favorite boy.” you coo, looking him in the eyes through the mirror. he averts his gaze once more, to which you take his chin between your thumb and pointer finger, tilting it back to look in the reflection. “do i need to help you see it?”

matt raises his eyebrows, his lips parting. he was clearly a bit confused. he tilts his head, egging you on.

“let me prove you wrong. right here in front of the mirror.”

that puzzled expression doesn’t seem to drop from his face. “i don’t understand…”

you chuckle softly, “you’re gonna watch, baby. you’re gonna see what i see. every second of it. i’ll make you feel so good and you’ll see how perfect you look while i’m doing it.”

oh, now he gets it. blood rushes to not only his face, but also his cock at the mere thought of you pounding him in front of the mirror. how humiliating. but also…how hot. he was excited. well, that nervous excitement that really makes your stomach churn.

you can tell by his cherry red face how turned on he was by the thought of that. a devilish grin tugs at your lips. “strip for me sweetheart,” you purr, and within a second, his sweats and boxers are on the floor. you do the same, peeling off your polo shirt from work, along with your pants.

matt looks at you through the mirror in absolute awe, to which you offer him a soft smile. you’d hoped he’d see himself like that after this. you get up to go wash your hands and find your strap and lube.

moments later, you return with the required items and settle behind matt in the mirror. “hands and knees, baby,” you order softly. matt’s quick to obey, scrambling to his hands and knees. “such an obedient boy.”

the tips of his ears glow red. you chuckle, pressing down slightly on the middle of his back, forcing a slight arch. you hum in approval, picking up the little container of lube, squirting a generous amount onto your fingers.

your fingers prod at his hole, “you ready, baby?” to which matt nods. when you stay still, matt realizes you need a vocal confirmation. “y-yes…”

“good boy.”

with that, your index finger slips inside him with ease. you notice his jaw drop open in the mirror and your lips curl into a wicked grin. you slowly push your finger in and out of him repeatedly, before adding in your middle finger as well.

a whimper slips from matt’s lips and his brows furrow as you bury both of your fingers knuckles deep and give them a slight curl. you continue teasing that particular spot, trying to work him open while also giving him as much pleasure as you could.

after a few minutes of this, you’d figured he was ready for your strap. you pull your fingers out and apply a bountiful amount of lube onto the silicone. you stroke your hand up and down the length of it, coating the entire thing.

“deeep breath, sweetheart,” you press to tip to his hole, to which he nods. at the initial push, matt let out a loud whine, squeezing his eyes shut as his jaw falls slack. you chuckle, gradually burying yourself further and further inside him until your hips met his ass.

you stay there for a second, waiting for matt to give you the okay to start moving. “m’ready…” he mumbles, looking at you through the mirror, his glassy eyes meeting yours.

with that, you begin to thrust your hips in and out of him slowly. you would’ve quickened your pace, but matt drops his head, losing his gaze on himself in the mirror. so, you keep the agonizingly slow pace.

“m-mama…”

“what is it, baby?” you ask, feigning innocence and confusion. matt whines. “faster…”

“mama’s not going faster unless you keep your eyes up, matthew.”

matt lifts his head sheepishly, a few tears having run down his face. you give him a soft, satisfied smile, “good boy.”

the poor boy tries his best to keep his eyes open and on his reflection as you quicken your pace and start pounding him harder. his eyes fight the urge to squeeze shut or wander to the reflection of your face, his lips parted as drool threatens to seep from the corners. tears trickled down his cheeks—he looked wrecked already.

but so, so handsome.

“keep your head up, sweet boy.” you coo, seeing how badly he was struggling to keep his head up and his eyes open. his prostate starts to get more and more sensitive, and every time the silicone brushes it, he whimpers loudly.

the sounds of his whiny cries, your panting, and the sound of your hips slapping against his ass fill the room—downright sinful.

matt starts to tremble more prominently and his whines get louder and more desperate. “m-mama—i—mmph!”

“you got this, baby. tell mama what you need and i’ll give it to you, i promise.” you say, running your palm soothingly up and down his side as the other one stays planted on his hip.

matt tries to speak, but it’s difficult with how absolutely euphoric the feeling of your hips pistoning in and out of him is. “cum—i—close! mama, pl-please!” he babbles, stuttering almost every word. but, you get what he’s trying to say.

poor thing needs to cum so bad.

you keep up the steady, quick pace, driving him closer to his high. “you can cum, sweetheart. you deserve it. keep your eyes on yourself.” you order softly.

and like a puppet on strings, matt breaks.

a violent shiver runs through him, and a high-pitched, hoarse cry leaves his lips as his orgasm hits him like a freight train. spurts of cum land on the floor beneath him. he keeps his eyes on his face the whole time like a good boy. just for you.

you fuck him through it, and when he’s finally calmed down and the tremors have subsided slightly, you gently pull out of him.

“how was that, baby?” you coo, pulling him up so his back is resting against your bra-covered chest, both of your gazes still set on his face in the mirror. “r-really…good. well—amazing.” he stutters sheepishly. cute.

you chuckle softly, one of your hand snaking around to grab his jaw, making sure his eyes stay on his body.

“look at you…so handsome. mama’s pretty boy.”

you hoped after all that, he’d finally see himself as more handsome, even if it was just a little. after all, he was your beautiful boy.

author’s note. . . heyy…first time writing pegging do not flame me. had this idea for a while and uh i started this on april 16th. my brain doesn’t work 😐 if there’s random capital letters in this it’s because apple intelligence kept turning on and changing my stuff 🙄 anyway hope you enjoyed cause i know i did…

🏷️ : @oopsiedaisydeer @mattybsgroupie @adorechris @tezzzzzzzz @surprisecurlyfriesbackup @courta13 @theyluvivi @zenithsturniolo @grace-sturnz

© cayleeuhithinknott

[merakiui]

yan georgina who enjoys seeing your face contort in pain while giving birth. she insists that she has to be there to see the labour through as she’s witnessing her precious daughter-in-law birth her grandchild but also because human pregnancies and birth fascinate her so much.. like wow the strength and pain you’re exhibiting to push out another human’s head from your sweet pussy is definitely something that she could witness over and over again.. what a deliciously sweet expression you’re making crying out in pain.. she just wants to ruin you and cause you those tears as she licks them perhaps she insists that you be on no pain meds at all because the pain you’re experiencing will turn you into a fine leech woman/mother and even bond you closer to your baby… she’s just so ruthless and strict but it’s all for the sake of your well-being! 🥺

something about georgina being a pervert is just sooodndjdkdkd 🤤 like her massaging your swollen breasts that are lactating… georgina who just loves making you cry as if her sons weren’t tormenting you enough by forcing your hand in marriage and forcing themselves on you whenever they like ..

I just can’t get the image of georgina capturing a reader who tried to escape and guiding her sons to punishing you .. as you’re tied up in bed struggling to break free and she has a riding crop in her hand ougisjsjd

anyways yes georgina milf leech supremacy goddd i love older women

AAAAAAA PERVERT GEORGINA!!!!!! These are such delicious thoughts omg,,, no wonder why she always insists on more grandchildren. >:) she wants to be there for each pregnancy, admiring you through all of the births. The way you scream and cry, squeezing her hand so tightly it’s like you’re trying to snap it of at the wrist. I like to think she enjoys how vulnerable you are when you’re pregnant. Humans will always be significantly more vulnerable than mers, of course, but now that you’re so soft and round from pregnancy it leaves you susceptible to all kinds of predators (her. She’s the predator you need to worry about. ;;; sneaky pervert,,,,).

You’re so cute when you rub yourself against her thigh. Pregnancy makes you so insatiable. She adores it, how easily you unravel from just a few touches, your body so hyper-sensitive. You apologize profusely because it’s wrong to rely on her for this when you have Jade or Floyd, but they’re not home and you’re aching for release. Georgina is more than happy to give that to you, her dear, sweet darling who is greedy for pleasure. Eating you out with a skilled tongue or curling her fingers up inside your velvety pussy. Maybe even fucking you with a strap, lying you on your side while she fucks into you from behind, her hands resting on your plush hips or even snaking around to cradle your baby bump. She giggles into your shoulder when you gush pathetically around her strap, a muffled “oh my!” when you cry out in bliss.

And her fascination with your lactating tits!!!!! She finds it so riveting. Her appetite puts Jade’s to shame. She’ll spend so long suckling from your leaky teats, squeezing and massaging them to coax more milk out. You whine weakly because it offers you so much relief, but you’re also so flustered to be in this position. It’s too good, though. You can only sink back against the pillows while she drinks her fill.

And if you ever tried to escape… >:) that’s probably how you got pregnant with your first child. What better way to tie you down for the next nine months than to have her boys knock you up? She ties you up so expertly and beautifully it almost feels erotic,, something like shibari. But you know it’s perfect for keeping a misbehaving darling like you from wriggling free. And she’ll work you open so it’s nice and easy for the boys to slip inside. Your tearful expression is so thrilling to her. >_< now you only need to worry about being a mama. You won’t be alone in this. She’ll be here to help you. <3

[rafeysafterglow]

you needed me, but you needed drugs more

pairing: coke!head!rafe x gf!reader summary: you and rafe go out on a date but he keeps going to the bathroom every 10 minutes to sniff coke cw: drug use, angst, suggestive, fighting, rafe being an asshole, rafe flirting with other girls, no happy ending, one day spoilers a/n: was watching “one day” on netflix and when i saw ep7 i immediately thought it was so rafe coded :p

ttpd series masterlist ♡

the restaurant rafe chose was, frankly, too extravagant than what you were used to. your dress was too tight, constricting your breathing. or, maybe it was because of how nervous you were. you wiped your sweaty palms against the bodice of your dress. you followed behind rafe, hands connected in front of you as he lead you two to your table. as you sway through the tables, the other couples, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were out of place. everybody here looked as if they spend every other day having brunch on a yacht.

the room was warmly lit, the decorations upscale, and the buzzing noises of people conversing mixed with the low hum of the jazz band. when you finally reached your table, rafe thanked the waiter before pulling your chair out. you thanked him as you sat down.

“well... this is fancy,” you begin. truthfully, when rafe had filled in his promise of taking you out on a date night, you thought it would be just like any other date nights you two have been on recently. that is, following rafe around on his bike while he pays any debts he has, most of the time towards barry. maybe, if you were lucky, he would buy you an ice cream cone to shut you up when you complain before going home and fucking you until you forget about the awful night.

“i promised that i would take you out didn’t i?” he smirks, lifting your hand delicately from the table before bringing it to his lips. the gesture sent a tingle down your spine and a colony of butterflies in your stomach. this gesture also gave you hope. hope that rafe was changing back into the rafe you knew when you first dated, always attentive, always loving.

rafe snaps his fingers to flag down the waiter. he orders some oysters, meanwhile you choose the cheapest thing on the menu, fish and chips. when the waiter leaves you two alone, you open your mouth to start a conversation, but he cuts you off, excusing himself to the bathroom.

a few minutes later, he comes back, wiping and sniffing his nose. on the way back, he passed by a woman selling cigarettes. her silky hair pinned into a perfect bun, her ass peaking out every time she bent down, and her slim fingers trailing down rafe’s arms. he doesn’t push them away. he grins back, “two packs, please.” you force your eyes to look away from them, not being able to handle seeing him with other women. the butterflies in your stomach disappears, an empty pit growing instead. you suddenly feel claustrophobic, the walls of the restaurant caving in on you.

rafe eventually makes it back to you. as he sat down, you couldn’t help but notice his glassy eyes. something in you breaks but you push it down. you ignored it. you knew exactly what he did in that short time he was in the bathroom. but you couldn’t admit to yourself about the truth. you couldn’t ruin this seemingly perfect night.

thankfully, the waiters come to deliver your food. you didn’t have to think about the harsh truth. rafe begins to chow down on his oysters, while you pick at your fish. you tried to cut a piece but it was just too hard, uncooked, frozen even. on the other hand, rafe seemed to be enjoying himself, practically animated. he begins to talk about something, but you weren’t listening.

rafe stands up to go to the bathroom again. you let him, again. exactly four minutes and 32 seconds later, yes you counted, he emerges from the door. your eyes follow him, and you realized in his trail was the same pretty cigarette woman. her hand comes up in a gentle wave, “hey, nice seeing you again so quickly.” rafe stops in his tracks and his eyes widen.

“heyy... i was wondering, what time are you off tonight?” he asks. his hand lands on her shoulder, slowly caressing. you let out a small gasp, shocked at the audacity he would flirt with another woman while on a date with you, with his girlfriend just a few feet away. it was as if you didn’t exist.

you couldn’t hear what the woman replied with, more like you tuned it out. you didn’t want to know. now, you just want to run away and never come back.

when he comes back, specks of white sprinkle his top lip, and his eyes red. he noticed the meal on your plate still left untouched. “you okay, babe?” rafe asked, noting on the fact that you weren’t eating your food.

“um... yeah no, my food isn’t properly cooked, it’s practically frozen,” you explain. he reaches over and stabs your fish with his knife. he lets out an angry sigh, scoffing. he scans the room for a waiter, but when he found none, he lets out an irritated, “hey!”, attracting people around you.

when somebody finally arrives, rafe picks up your plate and almost shoves it into the guy’s chest. “yeah, my girlfriend’s food isn’t cooked, it’s literally frozen. i thought this was supposed to be a high-end establishment, or whatever, but clearly, it’s not. so, fix it, before i talk to ya’ manager, yeah?” the chatter in the room immediately stops, all the attention on the commotion.

the terrified guy leaves, his face red. you couldn’t help but feel bad for him. you tried to keep your head down, avoiding the intense stares of everybody else. your body felt like a thousand degrees, your appetite gone.

rafe noticed the gawking when he saw your embarrassed face. “hey! whatchu’ all looking at huh? nothing to see here!” instantly, everybody returned to whatever they were doing before. he thinks him shouting makes it better. it was quite the opposite, actually. his anger issues just heightened your embarrassment tenfold.

“are you crazy? why would you cause a scene like that?” you whisper-shouted, your face still burning hot.

he dismissed your annoyance with a sway of his hand. “oh, can you relax? i fixed your problem for ya’,” he rolled his eyes. his eyes, that were now not only bloodshot and glazed, but also vacant. it was clear he was not here, with you, in the present. the rafe you knew was gone, you had to accept it. the rafe now, all he cared about was getting high. you had enough.

you stood up, coincidentally at the same time as the waiter coming back with your fish and chips. your abrupt rise caused the plate to slip from his hand and fall to the table. the clanking noise drew the curiosity of everybody, once again. but, this time, you didn’t care. your anger, disappointment, and humiliation clouded your judgement. you took a handful of chips and threw it to his face. “fuck you, rafe” you whispered bitterly, pointing an accusing finger at him.

gasps erupted around you. all you could focus on was rafe’s wide-mouthed face. before he could say anything, you turned your back and made a beeline towards the exit. on the way there, the same cigarette woman rafe flirted with stood in your way, her eyes trained on your face. you side-stepped beside her, making sure to shove your shoulder against hers. you can hear rafe calling out your name but the last thing you wanted to do was listen to what he had to say. if you did, you would also had to confront the outrageous act you just did.

outside, the cool breeze contrasted the fire raging inside you. you started walking in a random direction, not knowing where to go because rafe drove you here, but you just wanted to be as far away as possible. your arms wrapped around yourself, you could feel the goosebumps on your forearm. behind you, you could hear rushed footsteps, which was certainly rafe. his long legs caught up to you in less than a second.

he grabbed your elbow, forcing you to face him. the moonlight shone against his beautiful face, the face that you once would stare at lovingly as he slept beside you. his dress shirt, which was no doubt very expensive, was covered in fish and ranch. the smell turned your nose up. “what the hell was that, huh? ya’ think you can just embarrass me and run away?!” he shrieked in your face, the hold on your arm tightening, him pulling you against his chest.

his very evident outrage made your heartbeat faster, fearing for yourself right now. you were speechless, no words coming out of your mouth to defend yourself right now. you took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts, before explaining yourself, “rafe... you think i don’t know what you keep doing in there? why you keep leaving me alone in that table, to go to the ‘bathroom’ and get high? you think i don’t realize that, rafe?!”

he looked taken aback, his grip on your arm loosening. you snatched your arm off his hold and rubbed the spot. he took a deep breath, “look, you know who i am. i’ve been doing that long before i met you, so i don’t know what you’re so mad at!”

“i know this is who you are, rafe, but i didn’t think that you would just do it while on a date with me, in a fancy place nonetheless!”

“ya’ think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?! well, face it, you’re not.”

“at least i don’t go around flirting with other people when my girlfriend is in the same room! but of course you don’t care, rafe, because this,” you gestured up and down his figure, “is not you anymore. you’re no longer the rafe i know anymore, the rafe you were when we first dated. and i don’t think i can... i don’t think i can continue tolerating this treatment.”

he doesn’t seem to know what to say next. you started walking backwards, distancing yourself from him. “i love you rafe, but i don’t think i like you anymore. this is done.”

[rabotimagines]

Okay so my brain has officially short circuited after reading your Jazz x Reader fic… So good…

May I request a prompt somewhat similar? Like a Decepticon reader who has been captured by the Autobots and puts their cute frame to use to flirt, canoodle… (maybe something more? 👀) their self out of their situation? Maybe with Bumblebee or Prowl? :3

I don't think either of them would go for it, but it would certainly be fun to sexually harass them a bit as a Con.

"Shameless" Gn BOT Reader x Bumblebee, Prowl [Smut Scenario]

Summary: Flirty con reader sexually harasses Bumblebee and Prowl.

G1 characters: Bumblebee, Prowl, (Ironhide has some little moments too.)

Genre/Theme: smut scenario 🔞

Warnings: Sexual harassment, Con Reader cranks it in the middle of the Autobot brig, Ironhide threatening reader at the start

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours, them, they, their

Notes: Shameless flirty con Reader, Readers playful and a bit of a slag starter, Reader calls Bumblebee "Honeybee", Made as a Part 2 of this in mind, Con Reader tries to goad Prowl into a hate frag

"Where's the artifact?" Ironhides hard unmoving expression met yours. His digit pads clenching your jaw so hard they risked imprinting their marks.

Your servos hovered over the electrified bars of the Autobot brig. Ironhides grip, forcing your faceplate almost right against them. You could feel the heat of the high voltage electricity ghosting along the metal of your face. But you still just worried your expression alongside your smile. Knowing sparkdamn well how mad Ironhide would get from just the little look alone. "Sorry, but I don't have a clue what my fellow cons decided to do with it. Maybe dial up ol' Megatron and ask if he's up to share?"

Ironhide's engine growls, and you can't help smiling just a touch more over the reaction. Which only makes Ironhides expression darken further. He's so easy to play with that you can't help your em field wanting to flex out and taunt him even further.

"Ironhide, release them." Prowls voice cuts through your staring contest and makes you both glance at the tactician. The Honeybee trailing along behind him as he walks over to you two. Prowl's servos are behind his own back and he seems very unconcerned about the entire thing. Ironhide makes optical contact with Prowl, and he still does not release you.

They hold their gazes like that until Ironhide finally scoffs and throws you back a touch, his digits finally leaving your frame. "Fine. Better have a good interrogation method ready for them."

You just massage the metal of your jaw, your digits rubbing over the slightly indented marks Ironhide left behind. "Aw, big bad Autobot passing the responsibility of the prisoner? Ironhide, I'm hurt. I thought we had something." Ironhide whips around, rage now reignited on his faceplate. His mouth opens, no doubt about to rip into you again, his plating tightening down on his own frame. But you also notice how his optics are just a smidgen brighter. For an old mech, Ironhide really can be quite cute. Especially when he's all flustered like that.

"Ironhide." Prowl's voice cuts through again, and Ironhide stops himself short.

Ironhide shuts his mouth with an audible clunk and points a digit through the electrified bars. "You better behave your sorry sparkdamn self or I'll come back in here and put you back in your fragging place, con."

You only wrapped your arms around yourself in an exaggerated fashion. "I'm shaking in my plating."

Delight curls in you when Ironhides gaze sharpens even further. But he finally just huffs and turns to march out of the brig.

Once he's gone, Prowl evaluates you with a critical gaze. You only impassively meet his stare before he broke it to look at the Honeybee. "Bumblebee." The scout jumped and snapped his gaze from you to his superior. "Report any instances of the prisoner acting up."

"I'm on it, Prowl." With that, Prowl gave one last glance towards you and then turned to leave.

Your gaze moved from Prowls doorwings to the Honeybee when the door automatically closed behind him. He jumped a second time when your optics met for a nano-klick. He then stood up straighter and broke his gaze to glare at the wall. Trying very hard to look tough and uninterested.

His optics already brighter than they should be and his servos almost as tight as his plating.

Oh... this would be fun.

Maybe you could convince the scout of a little... exchange. Or at least you might be able to scare him off of his post.

-

Bumblebee drummed his digits on his own gauntlet, trying very hard not to let himself focus on you. He just managed to acknowledge the fact he thought you were hot. He didn't need to be guarding you right now. Bumblebee was already embarrassed enough being attracted to a Decepticon. He didn't wanna be in charge of exactly that Decepticon prisoner. It had been a few klicks, and you hadn't said anything, so Bumblebee thought just maybe you'd keep quiet through his shift.

"Hey, Honeybee." Your voice immediately shatters that hope. Bumblebee's plating that had relaxed clamped back down on itself at the sound of your voice. Bumblebee tries to steel himself so he can prepare for whatever you were gonna say to him.

"Honeybee." You hummed, your tone so much sweeter than Bumblebee knew you were. "I know your audials work. Don't ignore me now."

Bumblebee finally looks up at you and sees you close to the bars staring right at him. "What?" He asks purposely keeping his words short.

You are completely unbothered by his curt attitude. You actually smile a bit more when he responds, and Bumblebee has to tamper down his engine so it doesn't start softly purring. "Wanna make my stay and your boring shift a little bit more... interesting?" Bumblebee cycles his optics at the question.

Did you want to... actually talk to him?

Bumblebee frowns at the thought, not letting himself get caught up in his own cyberpuppy crush. There was no telling what you were actually doing this for. Bumblebee knew what kind of bot you were first- and that was a Decepticon. So he cautiously picks his words and doesn't let his optics leave your frame. "What kind of interesting?"

You smile and uncross your arms, one of your servos reaching down and- "Wanna interface?" Your digits dragged over the cusp of your modesty panel.

Bumblebee's optics rapidly cycle multiple times as he stares at you, still dragging digits over your own modesty panel teasingly- Bumblebee rather violently snaps out of his daze when your servo full on cups your closed panel. "No- no! You're our prisoner! I'm not gonna- No!" Bumblebee can't stop his vocalizor from pitching higher even when you obviously find his reaction funny.

Bumblebee forcibly clears his vocalizot and gets himself back together. "No." He repeats and hardens his expression to glare at you impassively. This was a trick. You were messing with him. Messing with him because you thought it was funny! So Bumblebee stands firm while he meets your gaze, daring you to say something else...

And you do "Alright fine, suit yourself, Honeybee. I'll just take care of myself then." You turn on your pede and make your way to the brigs uncomfortable recharge slab and sit down on it.

Bumblebee huffs a bit.

He was kind of proud he didn't break away from your gaze first.

Bumblebee's optics snap open wide when he watches you casually spread your legs out and snap your modesty panel back in one motion. "Uh-!" Bumblebee starts, and he can't finish because he's now suddenly stuck staring right at your valve.

"Enjoy the show then, Honeybee." Bumblebee's optics snap back up, and he watches as your servos drag along the grooves of your own plating. Your digits now dragging along the sensitive inner dips were your plating meets. A soft set of sighs dragging out of you every continued touch you'd feel of yourself.

Bumblebee watches mouth agape when your servos slowly dragged from your collar all the way down to your array.

Bumblebee's jaw clamps shut when he sees your now active array.

Your spikes pressurized and twitching heavy on your own frame. Your digits then rub over the mesh of your own valve tentatively. "You can still join if you want to Honeybee." Bumblebees optics snap back up to your faceplate- and he has the break away first this time when you smile at him. His gaze unwillingly shoots back down to your array when he catches movement, and he watches you start by immediately sliding two of your digits into yourself. Your valve obediently opens under your own prodding- the rim of your hole stretching around your own digits. And Bumblebee's mouth goes utterly dry.

Your other servo wraps around your spike, and you indifferently start to stroke yourself off. Pace unbothered but digit pads making sure drag along the girth and shape of your own spike every continued stroke up and down. You groan loudly under the stimulation and Bumblebee's own array starts twinging with obvious sudden interest.

Your thighs spread farther apart, and Bumblebee watches when your digits sink down to your knuckle. The wet sound of your own lubricant punctuated the act, and Bumblebee has to swallow down the needy sound that almost escapes his vocalizor. You huff a laugh and let your frame stretch out even further. Your plating laxing more makes the sensitive seams peak out even further for Bumblebee to look at. Your open thighs very much a clear invitation for Bumblebee to cozy himself between them-

No- no no no! Bumblebee shakes his helm and has to force his gaze away from you. He wouldn't-! Bumblebee needed to leave. No, he couldn't- he's supposed to be your guard and just watch you!

So Bumblebee slack jawed watches as your pelvis arches off of the recharge slab into your own servos. Your spike is starting to leak pre lubricant all over your own plating. You moan openly, and the sound is followed by Bumblebee's spike hitting the front of his modesty panel.

Bumblebee was supposed to report you acting up- he could report you acting up! Yup! Bumblebee was doing that! Right fragging now-! Bumblebee physically puts his servo up so he won't feel tempted to steal another glance while he rapidly dials Prowls Com.

-

Prowl answers Bumblebee's com call with an impassive nod. His optics are still trailing along his datapad. "Bumblebee."

"Prowl! Uh-!" The noticeably higher pitch in Bumblebees' voice immediately has all of Prowl's attention turning towards the conversation. "Um- the prisoner! They're uh-" Prowl quickly stands at the mention of you coupled with Bumblebee's obviously flustered state. He's opening Red Alerts Com in his backlog, noting how there was no message about you escaping or acting up. Prowl moves to start heading towards the brig preemptively. "They're um-!"

"Bumblebee, have they made any attempt to escape?" Prowl prods as he makes his way out of his office.

"Prowl they're self servicing-!" Prowl stops in his place, his sensor panels flicking upwards when he processes the statement.

Prowl resists the urge to sigh and quickens his pace. "I'll be right there, Bumblebee."

...

Prowl did not believe you would still be doing exactly what Bumblebee said you were when he actually got there. But low and behold you were.

Prowl has to suppress his optical ridge twitching at the sight of your thighs spread wide and your very active array out on open display. "Prowl!" Bumblebee exclaims at the sight of him, and Prowl can only note how bright Bumblebee's optics were. If Bumblebee had door wings, Prowl imagined they would be hiked up as far as they possibly could go.

"Bumblebee, you're relieved of the rest of your shift."

A look of surprise passes over Bumblebee's faceplate before he glances at you when you make a rather loud noise. "Ah- ha right- bye!" With that, Bumblebee rushes out of the door, leaving you and Prowl alone in the brig.

The sound of the door shutting behind Bumblebee makes your helm raise and your servos pull away from your array. You make optic contact with Prowl, and he does not bother to hide the unimpressed expression on his faceplate. "Aw, Honeybee got scared away?" You smiled clearly amused. "Even when I offered him the chance to join..." Prowl's wings twitch at the casual admission.

Prowl sighed and clicked his glossia. "Your abhorrent behavior is bothering our Autobots. Cease immediately."

Like he'd expected your derma just quirked upwards at his demand. "Or what, pudding?" You're servos trail down the dips of your hips till they were resting on your array. "Gonna come in here and punish me, maybe? Oh no... whatever shall I do...?" One of your servos finds your spike again, and you begun stroking up and down your own length.

Prowl can feel his annoyance flair and become genuine anger for a nano-klick, and he half imagines doing just that. And when his logic center tries to calculate the easiest way he could get a hold of you, he dismisses the numbers, and he smothers it back down. '

Prowl's optics flick down at your hard spike that's spilling pre lubricant all over your own fist. Then, towards your valve, which you currently weren't touching but was definitely lubricating under your own administrations.

His optics flick back up and your smile sharpens a touch. Prowl's plating tightens slightly on himself, having been caught leering for the quick moment. However Prowl holds his gaze with your own.

Prowl wouldn't allow you to get to him.

"What? Too shy to come in and join? I didn't take you for the type, Prowl."

"You're our prisoner, and no type of fraternizing will take place while you're in our care." Prowl's tone is clipped and short. He can feel the urge to say more on the tip of his glossia. But he also knew better than to give into your obvious attempts to off kilter and anger him.

"What? Not much of a spike mech?" Your servos both dip low, and the movement makes him glance- and Prowl wordlessly watches you spread your own valve mesh. Prowl has to resist the urge to swallow when he physically sees you clench down on nothing. Prowl lately registers his door wings raising a bit higher, and he forces them back downwards immediately. Unfortunately, you'd noticed the slight reaction before he had. "Oh, so you are more of a valve, mech. Noted."

Prowl ignored your remark for the sake of his own sanity. "I will ask you again to cease your inappropriate behavior while in our brig."

"What? C'mon, I'm dripping over here. Come in here and spike me, Prowl." You pushed two digits into your valve with a wet sound. Your other servo still on the side of your valve and still parting your mesh. Showing Prowl how you would clench down on your own digits. "I'll even let you overload inside me if you let me out afterwards. You were an enforcer before, right? I doubt this would be the first time you've ever traded an overload for a softer sentence."

The very bold assessment you'd made of Prowl's character snaps him out of his thoughts and drags his temper back to the forefront of his processor.

You were trying to escape. Not only escape, you were trying to offer sexual favors to get yourself out of your imprisonment. And you would accuse Prowl of- extorting those he's arrested for sexual gratification? Prowl's door wings slant, and his frown deepened into a scowl. "I have done no such thing, and I will never do any such thing as the gross miss use of power you are describing."

"You expect me to believe that? Really? A dirty enforcer like yourself?" You fisted your spike again and started stroking yourself while thrusting your digits into your own valve. "I bet you even fantasize about using those stasis cuffs of yours on cons like me! Ha, while imagining yourself punishing us like the dirty criminals we are." Prowl's mouth goes dry, and disbelieving outrage floods his system alongside the hot burn of shame. Prowl didn't know how you guessed his sins correctly, but frankly, he does not care.

Prowl's wings slant further, and he can't stop himself from disparaging you at least a bit. "You are a filthy pervert. Self-servicing in front of Bumblebee with no regard to anyone else around you. You have no dignity, and it's a wonder how none of your allies have killed you yet for your personality alone."

"Oh yeah?" The amusement in your tone only makes Prowl's anger flicker higher. Your servos are still working your array, and Prowl can feel the current heat in his chassis try and burn in a different way. The utterly immoral emotion easily wants to join Prowl's rage and settle in like it was meant to be there.

Prowl's optics narrow, and he can't stop his own glare or his glossia. "You're nothing more than a sexual deviant-! A deprived criminal who can only derive joy from the most dissolute forms of interaction." Prowl's engine tappers off a rev and he forces it to still as he continues. "You are unprincipled, selfish, abhorrent, and-"

"Keep going! I'm almost there-!" You urge Prowl on a smug satisfied smile curling at your derma. Prowl's door wings snap high, and his optics widened when he processed what you'd just said.

Arousal trickled up Prowl's chassis swift to settle in alongside his immediate disgust.

Prowl was compromised by his attraction towards you.

He's leaving. Prowl was leaving right at this very moment.

Without giving you another word, Prowl turns on a pede and makes his way out of brig. "Aw, Prowl, you're no fun-!" The door shutting behind him cuts your words off. Prowl had to allow himself a moment to vent. The frustration and the sexual energy fizzling down further and further in the back of his own frame.

Prowl instinctively checks his com when he gets a message.

Ironhide had messaged Prowls com saying if he needed to come teach you a lesson, Ironhide would do it at Prowl's command. Prowl promptly dismissed the message. Prowl knew Ironhide of all mechs was not who he wanted in charge of you in the brig right now. He'd seen you get into it with one another recently on the battlefield. And frankly, your encounters could be so sexually charged nowadays, Prowl was surprised that Ironhide hadn't broken code already.

No, Prowl needed someone who would not fall prey to your flirtatious advances and / or fall for your goading comments.

... it may take him a few klicks to find who he's going to subjugate you onto and also swap schedules around to give whoever that is the time to do that.

-

Red Alert cycled his optics and stared slack jawed at the monitor in front of him. You-! this was a trick- it had to be a trick-! But the longer he watched you self-service in the brig even after Prowl left had him uncertain. Red Alert then wordlessly watches you overload all over yourself with a loud groan. Transfluid spilling out of your spike and your own thighs closing around your own servo.

And then his jaw clamps shut when you move to continue touching yourself.

"Again!?" Red alert jumped out of his chair with a panicked shout at the voice to his right suddenly speaking. Red Alert's optics burned, and his helm is sparking when he makes frazzled optic contact with Trailbreaker.

"Red, I ain't exactly against the voyeurism, but you might wanna turn the volume down." Inferno on his left makes Red Alert whip his helm around. "I think anyone in the hallway can hear them from the monitor."

"Voyeurism!? It's not-! no its-" Red Alert fumbled and stared back at the screen of you working yourself to yet another overload. Trailbreaker and Inferno were both staring at the visual of you alongside him.

Oh, this was-! Frag! Red Alert turned the monitor off with a curse. The camera feed was still recording just- if you were up to something, he could review it later, Primus! Red Alert scrubbed his servos over his faceplate, his helm sensors still spitting static. Trailbreaker laughed softly on his right, and Inferno awkwardly patted his pauldron on his left.

-

You smirked when Soundwave pinged your com to tell you he shut the camera feed off. You pulled your servos off of yourself and stood up from the slab. You slipped your servo into one of the hidden physical storage areas you had on your frame and pulled out the human gem you'd been hiding from the Autobots. You pinged Soundwave and told him you were ready to hand it off.

The far away vent in the brig rattled and opened, and Ravage dropped down onto the floor with a barely audible noise. He stalked forward and stopped dead in his tracks, staring at you.

Oh, right, your spike and valve were still just out.

"Oh, don't look at me like that. I needed a way to get them to leave and turn the cameras off. They're such prudes- don't y'know?" Ravage made a chuffed sound that you couldn't take as anything else but a scoff. You bent down and stuck your servo through the bars, letting Ravage take the gem in his jaws before standing back up. "Tell Soundwave he's not gonna be able to black mail me on this. I do not care." You didn't bother trying to cover up since Ravage already had enough of an optic full that there was frankly no point.

Ravage raised his helm and continued to leer at you. You arched a brow and smirked. "Pervert."

Your com pinging with a message again makes you glance at it.

> Takes one to know one.

You huffed a laugh.

He had a point. "Touche."

As Ravage made his way back out of the brig, you made yours back to the slab. Wondering if you should fantasize about the Honeybee or that sour Enforcer of yours.

...

Maybe you could think about them both. No harm in that little fantasy now was there?

[benispunk]

Safety Net

logan howlett x reader

Logan experiences a rage episode.

A/N: hello everyone!!!! am I back??? well...I guess we can kinda say that? So, life hasn't been good, like, at all, and a whileeee ago I saw a post about mental health and Logan and I saw the "rage episodes" part and I cannot find this post anymore which is killing me ughhhh but ANYWAY, this is my rendition of a rage episode. this was very therapeutic to write because of the things I went through recently and over the past few years as I have witnessed someone in my family have a rage episode like the one depicted in this fic. I really hope I do not offend anyone with this??? cause this is based on personal memory and also I've done a lot of research on it and as I said, I felt lots of different emotions while writing this....anyway...I hope you have a good time?? reading this or like...you didn't choke on your tears or whatever. my exams are ALMOST over which means....more fics soon?? see you!!

Masterlist

Logan never thought he’d make it this far.

He wasn’t the type for relationships—not real ones, not the kind that lasted. The ones he’d had before were brief, messy, and built on things that never stuck. But Y/N was different. She didn’t just put up with him; she understood him in ways that no one ever had. And somehow, despite everything, she was still here.

He didn’t say it much—not in words, anyway—but he cared about her. More than he should. More than he knew how to handle. He’d show it in other ways instead. Walking her home when she worked late. Holding her a little tighter in his sleep when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Memorizing the way she took her coffee, the songs she hummed under her breath, the way her nose scrunched up when she was thinking.

She saw through all of it.

"You’re not as grumpy as you think you are," she’d teased him once, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on his forearm.

He’d just snorted, shaking his head. "You sure about that?"

"Mhm. You just pretend to be."

And maybe she was right. Maybe, with her, he didn’t feel the need to pretend so much.

Which is why, one night, tangled up together in her apartment, she had said something that stuck with him.

"I was thinking… maybe one day, we could live together."

It wasn’t a question, not really. Just an idea, something she had tossed out so casually, like it was the most natural thing in the world. But Logan had frozen for just a second too long, and she must have noticed because she quickly added, "Not now, obviously. Just, you know… one day. If you’d want that."

He forced himself to relax, to keep his voice even. "Yeah… someday."

That had been enough for her. She had smiled, kissed him, and let it go.

But he didn’t.

It stayed with him, gnawed at him from the inside out. Someday. What did that even mean? A month? A year? What if she asked again? What if she expected something from him?

What if he said yes and fucked everything up?

At first, he managed to push the thought aside.

Days passed, and nothing changed. They still met up when they could, still spent nights tangled in each other’s arms, still fell into that easy rhythm that had become so natural.

But then, the idea started sticking.

It crept up in quiet moments—when he was alone in his apartment, staring at the ceiling. When Y/N texted him goodnight, and he imagined what it would be like if she was just… there.

And that’s when it started. The overthinking. The doubts. The realization of everything that could go wrong.

Logan had never had anything that lasted. Not a home. Not a real future. Not someone who stayed. And if he let himself believe—even for a second—that this could work, that he could have something good, then he’d just be setting himself up for the inevitable.

Because eventually, he would hurt her.

Not on purpose. Never on purpose. But he knew himself. He knew what he was.

His nightmares alone were enough proof of that.

The thought of waking up next to her after one of those nights—claws unsheathed, sheets shredded, breath ragged—made his stomach twist. What if he lashed out? What if she got caught in it?

What if one of his rage episodes got out of hand?

No.

He couldn’t let that happen.

So when months later she asked about it again—actually asked—he hesitated.

They were sitting on her couch, her legs thrown over his lap, a movie playing in the background. It was the kind of easy, quiet moment that usually put him at ease. But this time, he could feel her looking at him, like she was weighing her words before speaking.

"You never really answered me before," she said finally. "Do you actually want us to live together?"

Logan’s jaw tightened. He could hear the uncertainty in her voice, like she was scared of his answer.

He should have told her the truth. That it had been eating him alive for months. That he wanted to say yes, but his fear screamed louder than anything else.

Instead, he said, "I just need some time to think about it."

Y/N’s expression didn’t change. She just nodded slowly, studying him in that way that made his skin itch.

"Okay," she said, like she didn’t believe him.

And then she squeezed his hand. Just briefly. A small, warm reassurance.

But to Logan, it didn’t change anything.

He could only see what he thought was disappointment behind her understanding. He convinced himself she was just trying to be strong about it, pretending it didn’t hurt her when really, she was just waiting for him to figure himself out.

The guilt settled in his chest, heavy and suffocating.

That’s how it started.

The beginning is always subtle. He stayed out later, made excuses when she asked to meet up. His texts became shorter, more infrequent. He spent more time alone in his apartment, staring at the walls, trapped inside his own head.

And the longer it went on, the worse it got.

Logan convinced himself it was nothing. He was just thinking. That’s all.

But the thoughts never stopped.

Every time Y/N messaged him, guilt curled in his stomach like a sickness. He’d stare at his phone for minutes at a time, fingers hovering over the keyboard, before locking the screen and tossing it onto the couch.

He didn’t want to ignore her. But if he answered, he’d have to talk, and if he talked, she’d hear it in his voice—how torn he was, how he could barely keep himself together. And he couldn’t let that happen.

So he let the distance grow.

He told himself it was for her own good. That he was doing her a favor.

That lie worked for about a week.

Then came the restlessness.

The apartment, always too small, started feeling like a cage. Logan found himself pacing the length of it, muscles coiled so tight they ached. He tried training to burn it off—push-ups until his arms gave out, running until he couldn't feel his legs—but it didn’t help.

The frustration built like pressure under his skin, like a ticking bomb he couldn’t disarm.

And worst of all, he felt it creeping up—an old, familiar feeling, something he’d kept at bay for months.

The anger.

It started small. A twitch in his fingers. A tightness in his jaw. A heat in his chest that never fully went away.

The second week, it got worse.

His hands trembled when he wasn’t paying attention. His breathing came too fast, too shallow, like something was crawling under his skin. He felt his temper snap quicker, his patience wear thinner.

And then, one morning, he caught his reflection in the bathroom mirror and barely recognized himself.

Dark circles burned under his eyes. His face was drawn, sharp, his shoulders tense. He looked haunted.

It was getting bad. Too bad.

He needed to see Y/N.

The thought hit him like a slap. His first instinct was to shove it down, bury it under everything else, but it wouldn’t leave.

He missed her. But worse than that—he needed her.

And that terrified him more than anything.

Because what if he showed up, and she looked at him the way he looked at himself?

What if she finally saw him for what he really was?

A monster. A wreck. A lost cause.

The fear made his blood run cold.

The first punch isn’t planned.

One second, he’s gripping the sink, breath ragged, jaw locked so tight it aches. The next, his fist slams into the mirror with a force that shatters it instantly.

Glass rains down like ice. Tiny shards bite into his knuckles, but he barely feels it.

His chest heaves. His heartbeat pounds against his ribs. He stares at his own fractured reflection—his face split into a dozen broken pieces, each one warped, wrong.

It’s not enough.

The rage claws higher, burning his veins, crushing his ribs. He steps back, breathing sharp and uneven. He moves away from the bathroom, into his small living room. And then he snaps.

The lamp goes flying first. It crashes against the far wall, exploding into pieces. The chair follows. He barely registers the sound it makes as it shatters.

His claws threaten to unsheathe, but he fights it—barely.

Instead, he tears through the apartment with nothing but his hands.

The table gets overturned. Books get ripped from shelves. His dresser—too heavy, too solid—takes three violent attempts before it topples over with a thunderous crack.

Still, it’s not enough.

He needs to break something. To hurt something. To feel it.

His breathing is ragged, his vision tunneling. His hands tangle in his own hair, yanking, as if he could pull himself out of his own skin.

The storm inside him is suffocating.

It doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left standing.

And then, silence.

His shoulders tremble. His hands curl into fists at his sides, still shaking.

He looks around, blinking through the haze, and finally sees it—

The wreckage.

His apartment is destroyed.

He stares, breath coming too fast, too shallow. His head is spinning. His chest aches.

What have I done?

The thought slams into him, knocking the air from his lungs.

He wants to scream. To punch something again. To disappear.

And then—

A soft knock.

His stomach drops.

He goes rigid, pulse hammering in his ears. He barely has time to process before her voice follows—gentle, uncertain.

"Logan?"

No. No, no, no.

She can’t be here. Not now. Not when the air still vibrates with rage. Not when his body still hums with it.

He staggers back, breath shaking, trying to make sense of anything.

She knocks again. "I know you’re here."

Panic surges through him.

He grips the edge of the still standing counter, heart hammering. Think. Think.

But his mind is blank.

She can’t see this. She can’t see him.

But she’s already here.

And it’s too late.

He doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe. If he stays completely still, maybe she’ll leave. Maybe she’ll assume he’s out and walk away.

But then—

His phone rings.

The sound shatters the silence like a gunshot.

His stomach drops.

Shit.

His body jolts into motion, eyes darting wildly through the wreckage. Where the hell is it? He moves without thinking, shoving aside broken furniture, tossing clothes and debris out of the way. His hands are unsteady, frantic, as he digs through the mess.

The ringing continues.

Come on, come on—

His fingers finally close around the device, and he scrambles to turn it off, but—

The damage is done.

Outside, Y/N goes silent.

A few seconds pass, then—

"...Logan?" Her voice is softer now. Knowing.

His chest tightens.

He grips the phone so hard it creaks in his hand. His breathing is too loud, his pulse a hammer against his skull.

She knows.

"Logan, open the door."

No. No, no, she can’t.

"You can’t come in," he blurts out, his voice hoarse. He clears his throat, tries to steady himself, but it’s useless. His hands are still shaking. His entire body is.

"Please." Her voice is so gentle it cuts through him like a blade.

"Just—just go home, alright?" He forces the words out, presses his back against the door like he can physically hold her out. "I’m fine."

He knows how it sounds. Knows she doesn’t believe it.

"Logan…"

There’s something in her tone—something aching—that makes his stomach twist.

"You’re not fine," she says, quiet but firm. "Please. Just let me in."

He squeezes his eyes shut. His head is spinning.

She shouldn’t be here. She shouldn’t see this.

But she is.

And deep down, he knows. She’s the better option. She always has been. And with a sharp breath, his fingers fumble with the lock.

The second it clicks, the door opens.

And Y/N steps inside.

The air was thick with dust and the sharp scent of splintered wood.

The apartment—once messy in a charming, lived-in way—was destroyed. Furniture overturned, glass shattered across the floor.

In the middle of it all stood Logan. Frozen. Shaking. Like an animal cornered after ripping itself apart.

Y/N didn’t hesitate. Her heart ached so violently in her chest it almost knocked the air from her lungs, but she didn’t hesitate.

Carefully stepping over the broken glass, she made her way to him. Her hands reached out—gentle, slow—like approaching something fragile.

“Logan,” she breathed.

He flinched at her voice. His hands, bloody and trembling, curled into fists at his sides, as if trying to hold himself together. He wouldn’t look at her. Couldn’t.

But Y/N wasn't afraid. Not of him. Never of him.

She checked his hands first, ghosting her fingers over his knuckles, over shallow cuts that were already starting to heal. It didn’t matter—they could have hurt. She still touched him with the same care she would have used on something broken beyond repair.

“Come here,” she whispered, finding a chair that hadn’t been completely wrecked. She kicked aside some debris, made enough space, then turned back to him.

He didn’t move. Didn’t even seem to breathe.

So she went to him and she led him by the hand—gently, so gently—until he sat down with a heavy, defeated thud.

Y/N disappeared into the kitchen for a second, somehow finding a clean cloth and wetting it with cold water. When she came back, Logan hadn't moved. His eyes were empty, far away, like he wasn’t really there.

Kneeling in front of him, she pressed the damp cloth to his face, wiping away the blood, the dirt, the sweat.

He flinched again at first—then, slowly, surrendered to her touch. His head bowed forward, his whole body trembling under her hands. Tears fell down his cheeks. Silent. Endless. He didn’t even seem to notice them.

Y/N caught every tear with the cloth, and when that wasn’t enough, with the soft brush of her thumb against his skin. She kissed the corner of his mouth so lightly he barely felt it, her hands cradling his face like he was something precious.

“It’s okay,” she murmured, over and over again. “I’m here. You’re okay.”

Logan let out a breath that sounded like it hurt to release. His shoulders collapsed inward, and for a moment, he leaned into her, desperate and broken. But even then, even shattered, a part of him tried to pull away. He didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve her.

“You shouldn’t be,” he rasped, voice thick with guilt and misery.

Y/N’s heart twisted, but she didn’t loosen her hold. She shook her head and pressed her forehead gently to his. Her hands threaded through his hair, slow and steady, grounding him.

"I’ll always be here," she whispered.

And that—That broke him all over again.

Logan choked on a sob, rough and ugly, and Y/N gathered him close. She guided him toward the bedroom, somehow navigating the wreckage without letting go of him, like if she let go, he might fall apart completely.

They reached the bed—half wrecked but still standing—and she urged him to sit.

He obeyed, dazed and exhausted.

She climbed behind him, pulling him against her chest, holding him the way you would hold someone drowning. Her hands never stopped moving—through his hair, over his face, down his chest—silent promises written into every touch.

Logan tried to speak—tried to tell her he was sorry, that he was dangerous, that he should be alone—but the words tangled in his throat.

Instead, he cried.

For everything he was.

For everything he wasn’t.

For everything he was terrified to lose.

And she listened. Patient. Endless.

Her tears fell into his hair as she presses soft kisses there and whispered, “I’ve got you, Logan. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time in days—maybe longer—he believed her.

He stayed there, trembling in her arms, every breath a struggle. He was exhausted—but he couldn’t close his eyes. Couldn’t let himself fall into sleep, not yet. Not when every part of him screamed that he didn’t deserve this. Didn’t deserve her.

Y/N must have sensed it—the way he was still locked in the fight, even as his body sagged against her. Because after a long moment, she leaned back just enough to look at him, her fingers brushing through his hair again, slow and soothing.

"Logan," she said softly, "let’s go to my place, okay?"

Her voice was a balm, warm and certain, like she was offering him a lifeline he didn’t think he deserved.

"We’ll come back here when you're ready," she promised. "We'll clean up together. But right now, you need a place that feels safe."

Safe.

The word hit him like a punch.

Logan stiffened, guilt flaring so hard it made his stomach churn. He shook his head, tearing away from her touch even though it hurt to do it.

"I can’t," he rasped, his voice cracking. "I’ll... I'll just wreck that too."

Y/N’s chest squeezed painfully. Logan’s fists curled again, self-hatred bleeding out of every line of his body.

"I could—" he swallowed hard, his throat burning, "I could hurt you."

He didn’t say again. But it was there, unspoken.

He was a monster. A ticking bomb. Someone who could tear everything good apart without even meaning to.

But Y/N. She just reached for him again, steady and unwavering, like a lighthouse cutting through the storm.

"You won’t," she said, firm but gentle. "You won't because you're not alone. Because you don’t have to fight this alone anymore."

She squeezed his hand, grounding him back into her.

"And even if you still don’t believe it," she whispered, "even if you push me away, even if you try to shut me out... I’m not leaving you, Logan. Not now. Not ever."

Logan’s breathing hitched. He shook his head again, broken. "You don’t get it," he choked out. "I’m not... I'm not worth it. You should walk away. You should've walked away the second you saw—" He gestured weakly at the wreckage, at the wreck of himself.

But Y/N only moved closer. Closer until he couldn't look anywhere without seeing her. Feeling her.

"I saw you," she said, voice thick with emotion. "Not the mess. You."

That shattered something deep in him. Not in a violent way. In a way that stripped him down to the raw truth beneath all the pain: He needed her. He wanted her. He loved her more than he even knew how to say.

And she loved him right back, with a kind of love so fierce it scared him more than anything else in the world. But it also saved him.

Slowly, hesitantly, Logan reached for her again. His hand fisted in the back of her shirt like he was terrified she might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough. And when she leaned into him, wrapping him up in her arms again, he buried his face in her neck, letting himself finally, finally fall into her.

Maybe he didn’t deserve her. Maybe he never would.

But she was here. And for tonight, at least, that was enough.

She kept her arms around him for a long moment, just breathing with him. When she finally pulled back, it was only to cup his face in both hands, her thumb brushing gently across his cheek.

"Stay here," she whispered. "Don’t move, okay? I’ll be right back."

Logan didn’t argue. Couldn’t. He just nodded faintly, like a man barely clinging to the surface.

Y/N kissed his forehead so softly it made his chest ache, then she stood up, stepping carefully over the wreckage as she made her way back into the main room. He watched her go, guilt gnawing at him.

In the living room, Y/N moved quickly but carefully. She picked up the sharp shards of the broken mirror first, wrapping them in a towel before tossing them safely into the trash. She pushed splintered wood and broken glass out of the pathways, clearing a narrow, safe space from the bedroom to the front door. She closed the shattered shutters as best she could, dimming the room so that when Logan would come back here later, it wouldn't feel so raw. So exposed.

She worked with quiet determination, her heart breaking a little more every time she caught sight of the destruction. Not because she cared about the mess, but because she could feel how much pain Logan must've been in to cause it.

When she was satisfied that nothing dangerous remained, she made her way back to the bedroom.

Logan was still sitting exactly where she left him, on the edge of the bed, his shoulders slumped and hands loosely clenched in his lap.

Y/N’s heart squeezed.

She didn’t say anything at first. Instead, she moved around the room, finding a worn duffel bag tucked under the bed. She gently packed what she could: clothes that weren’t destroyed, a couple of small things she knew mattered to him.

In the bathroom, it was harder—cracked tiles, broken shelves—but she found his toothbrush, some of his toiletries, a couple of personal items, and tucked them into the bag too.

The whole time, Logan stayed silent, waiting on the edge of the bed.

It felt unreal. Like he wasn’t sure any of this was happening. Like any second now, she’d realize who he really was and walk out that door forever.

But she didn’t. She zipped the bag closed, slinging it over her shoulder and when she turned to him, her expression was still soft. Still his.

"Alright," she said gently. "Let’s go."

Logan hesitated, his body locked between guilt and the pull of her voice. But then she held out her hand to him and after a long, trembling second, Logan reached out and took it.

Her fingers wrapped tightly around his, like a promise.

She led him out of the bedroom, guiding him carefully around the worst of the wreckage she’d cleared, never letting go of his hand. Out the door. Out of the prison his fear had made.

The walk to Y/N’s apartment was quiet.

She kept a steady hand on Logan the whole time, whether it was gripping his hand, brushing his arm, or gently guiding him through doors and up steps.

Logan didn’t speak. He felt hollowed out and brittle, like if she let go of him even for a second, he might just blow away with the night wind.

When they finally reached her door, she unlocked it quickly, ushering him inside with a tenderness that made his throat ache.

The apartment smelled like her. Warm. Safe.

Home.

She kicked off her shoes by the entrance but didn’t ask him to do the same. Instead, she led him straight to the couch, easing him down carefully like he might break if she moved him too fast.

"Stay right here," she said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "I'll be back in a second."

He nodded numbly, watching her flit around the small space. She pulled out a fresh blanket, fluffed a pillow behind him, checked the thermostat to make sure the place was warm enough. Every move was made with him in mind—with the kind of care he didn’t think he deserved.

And maybe he didn't. Maybe he was fooling himself to think he could have this. Have her.

As she moved into her bedroom to grab some extra clothes he could borrow, Logan’s eyes wandered without meaning to.

Her apartment was small but filled with life—books, photos, cozy little touches everywhere. He caught sight of something pinned to the fridge and frowned. He pushed himself up a little and squinted.

It was a photo. Worn and creased from being touched so often.

It was him. Him and her.

A candid photo from some random night he barely remembered, probably taken when they'd gone out for drinks with some of her friends. In it, he was looking off to the side, a rare, unguarded smile on his face. And she was laughing, leaning into him like she belonged there. Like she'd always belonged there. Someone had drawn a little heart under the picture.

Logan's chest tightened so hard it hurt. He hadn't even known she had that picture.

Y/N came back just then, carrying some sweatpants and a soft hoodie, but paused when she saw him up, looking at the fridge.

"Logan?" she said gently, setting the clothes down.

He shook his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. Trying to breathe past the crushing guilt and the unbearable love that wrapped around him like chains. He sat back down on the couch.

"I..." he started hoarsely. He dragged a hand down his face, then gritted out, "I don't deserve this. I don't deserve you."

Y/N didn’t hesitate. She dropped to her knees in front of him, cupping his face in her hands again, forcing him to look at her.

"Listen to me," she whispered, voice trembling but sure. "You’re not a monster. You’re not broken beyond saving. You are good, Logan. And you don’t have to do this alone anymore."

He squeezed his eyes shut, a broken sound escaping him—part sob, part plea.

"I could hurt you," he rasped. "I could—"

"You won't," she said fiercely. "I trust you. I know you."

Her thumbs brushed away the tears he didn't even realize were falling again.

For a long, trembling moment, Logan didn’t move. Didn't even breathe.

And then, like a man surrendering a battle he never wanted to fight in the first place, he leaned into her touch. Collapsed against her.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, he let himself believe he wasn't beyond saving.

Not as long as she was here. Not as long as she was holding him like this.

Logan’s body was heavy against hers, all tense lines and shuddering breaths. For a moment, he let himself rest there, forehead pressed to her shoulder, letting her hands ground him—gentle strokes along his back, soothing circles at the nape of his neck.

But then, as always, the guilt clawed its way back up his throat.

He shifted, starting to pull away.

"I—I should go," he muttered roughly, not even knowing where he thought he could go in this state. "I’ll just—I’ll sleep on the floor. Or— or the couch."

Y/N immediately tightened her hold.

"What are you talking about..." she said, firm but gentle, her hands sliding up to cradle his face again. "You're not going anywhere."

He shook his head, a pained sound escaping him, "You don’t—You shouldn't have to—" His voice cracked under the weight of it. "Look at me, Y/N."

"I am," she whispered, her thumb stroking just beneath his eye, brushing away a tear. "And all I see is the man I love."

He squeezed his eyes shut, breathing ragged.

She didn’t let him turn away. Didn’t let him fall back into that pit.

"You're staying right here," she said again, softer this time, like a promise. "With me."

For a second, he was frozen.

Then Y/N pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering there.

"Come on," she murmured against his skin. "Let’s get you comfortable, alright?"

He nodded weakly, too exhausted to resist anymore.

She helped him out of his ruined jacket, guiding him with slow, careful movements like he was made of glass. He let her pull the sleeves down his arms, let her tug the hoodie over his head. Every touch was tender, every glance full of nothing but care and patience.

She handed him the fresh sweatpants and shirt she'd found earlier, giving him the dignity of changing in the bathroom if he wanted— but he just stood there, trembling, needing her near.

So she stayed. Helping him change, steadying his shaking hands when they fumbled with the fabric.

Once he was in clean clothes, Y/N led him to her bed.

The second he sat down, the mattress dipping under his weight, he seemed to lose what little strength he had left. He dropped his head into his hands, shoulders heaving with silent breaths.

Y/N knelt down again in front of him, brushing her fingers through his hair with infinite gentleness.

"You’re safe now," she whispered. "You’re safe. I’ve got you."

Logan swallowed hard, blinking back another wave of tears. He was so fucking tired. Of fighting. Of hurting.

Tired of believing he didn’t deserve this.

Slowly—so slowly—he lifted his head.

And she was there. Still there. Still looking at him like he was worth staying for.

"I’ll stay," he rasped, voice breaking.

Her smile trembled, but it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Good," she breathed, wiping another tear from his cheek. "That's all I want."

She climbed into bed beside him, pulling the blankets over them, never once letting go of his hand.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Logan let himself believe that maybe—just maybe—he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

XXX

feel free to comment if you want a part 2 or any other request!!

[astrologydray]

When your sun matches your rising sign: part 1

when your Sun sign matches your Rising sign or Ascendant, you’re basically walking through life with the internal and external self aligned. It’s like your soul’s personality and your outward presentation are saying the same thing at the same time, which creates a powerful sense of consistency, clarity, and sometimes destiny.

——Aries Sun & Aries Rising——

You come into this world like a firework that refuses to wait for the 4th of July. Aries Sun with Aries Rising makes you bold, direct, and unapologetically you. People sense your energy before you even speak — it radiates off you like heat. There’s no hiding your intentions or softening your edge, because what you feel on the inside is exactly what people see. You operate in survival mode, but not because you’re threatened — because you thrive in challenges. Leadership, initiation, and raw honesty are natural to you, even if it rubs people the wrong way sometimes.

This combination can also bring a “lone wolf” vibe — you trust your instincts so deeply that you rarely stop to ask for advice. But be mindful: your impulsiveness and quick temper can backfire if you don’t channel it with purpose. The blessing is, you’re real — always. No masks. No filters. And in a world full of illusion, that’s your superpower. You came here to fight for something, and people follow you because they feel your fire is authentic.

—Taurus Sun & Taurus Rising—

When Taurus is both your Sun and Rising, you’re giving grounded goddess, slow-burning icon, and inner peace wrapped in luxury. Your vibe is calm, serene, and unbothered — but that doesn’t mean you’re boring. Far from it. You’re deeply sensual, pleasure-driven, and possess a quiet magnetism that draws people to you. You value stability in every area of life, and the older you get, the more you refuse to be rushed. Your energy tells people “I move when I decide,” and that’s powerful. You build your life like a garden: slowly, intentionally, and with long-term rewards in mind.

This combo gives you natural aesthetic flair — Venus is your ruler twice over, so beauty, comfort, and indulgence are non-negotiables. But it also means you can be extremely resistant to change. Once you’re set in your ways, it’s cemented. Learning to embrace life’s unpredictability will take you far. Still, your double Taurus nature makes you a rock in people’s lives — dependable, nourishing, and quietly powerful. You don’t need to be loud to be unforgettable. Your presence alone is enough.

—Gemini Sun & Gemini Rising—

You’re the definition of “main character energy” in a rom-com directed by the cosmos. Double Gemini is like having twin spirits inside you who both want to narrate your life, tweet about it, and make a podcast. You’re quick-witted, mentally agile, and can charm an entire room before they even realize you’ve shifted personas three times. The Sun and Rising both ruled by Mercury gives you a hyper-awareness of your environment and a constant hunger to learn, talk, connect, and keep it moving. You don’t just adapt — you morph.

But here’s the plot twist: while you’re perceived as bubbly and talkative, your thoughts run much deeper than people assume. Your mind can be restless, which means stillness feels uncomfortable. There’s a need to learn how to ground your thoughts and complete what you start. When you do, you become a force — someone who can bridge worlds, connect people, and articulate ideas in ways that spark real change. You’re not just clever, you’re cosmically coded to translate the world’s chaos into something everyone can understand.

—Cancer Sun & Cancer Rising—

With both your Sun and Rising in Cancer, you carry the emotional tides of the Moon in your aura — people feel you before they hear you. You’re soft, but not weak. Tender, but not naïve. You wear your heart on your sleeve and your memories like armor. There’s an innate protectiveness to you — over your home, your people, your past — and this makes you someone others instantly trust. You feel familiar to strangers, like someone they’ve known in another life. That’s your Moon-ruled magnetism. You are the safe space.

But make no mistake: your softness has depth. You’re deeply intuitive, often absorbing the emotions of a room like a sponge, which can be both a gift and a burden. You may have learned early in life to hide behind a shell or become the caretaker in every situation. With this double Cancer placement, you’ll often need to distinguish between your emotional truth and everyone else’s projections. Once you do, your nurturing becomes powerful — you heal, inspire, and hold space in ways that change lives. Your presence is sacred. Period.

———Leo Sun & Leo Rising———

Double Leo? Baby, the world is your stage and you were born knowing it. Your aura is golden, regal, and undeniable. With both the Sun (your ego) and the Rising sign (your presentation) ruled by the Sun itself, your self-expression shines like a spotlight. Confidence is your birthright, and whether you’re loud or laid-back, people just can’t ignore you. You exude pride, warmth, charisma, and a childlike joy that lights up every space you enter. Even when you’re not trying to be seen, you’re seen.

However, this double Leo combo also means you live in a constant dance between self-love and the need to be loved. You crave admiration not just from others, but from yourself — and when you don’t receive it, it can feel like your inner flame dims. Your biggest growth comes when you realize that your validation doesn’t have to be earned. It’s already yours. When your heart is open and you’re leading with authenticity rather than performance, your light becomes healing, not just dazzling. You don’t just shine — you give others permission to shine, too.

——Virgo Sun & Virgo Rising——

You’re the blueprint for refinement. With Virgo as both your Sun and Rising, there’s an elegant precision to the way you move through the world. Your mind is always scanning, analyzing, noticing the details that others miss. You’re humble, composed, and often deeply service-oriented — not because you want recognition, but because you believe in making things better. Efficiency, clarity, and craftsmanship matter to you. You may come off reserved at first, but people quickly sense your sincerity and strong inner values.

Still, this combo can make you very self-critical. You often expect perfection from yourself, and since your Rising is also Virgo, that pressure doesn’t stay internal — it’s how you present yourself, too. You’re the person who shows up prepared, polished, and put together even when your inner world feels like a hurricane. That’s your strength and your struggle. The key here is to stop waiting until you’re “enough” to rest or celebrate. You already are. When you lead with compassion instead of correction, your Virgo power becomes divine — the kind that heals, elevates, and creates lasting impact.

[literatooru]

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

pairing: villain f!reader x pro-hero bakugo katsuki warnings: 18+ (NSFW) (MDNI), mutual masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, he calls reader brat, sort of public sex but there's really no one around lol

Bakugō Katsuki, most commonly known as pro-hero Dynamight. If you haven’t heard his name, it means you’ve probably been living under a rock. He’s one of the most famous heroes, loved —and hated— by many. Nobody knows just how many cell’s he’s filled with villains (except him, he keeps count of them… you know, just to prove he’s the best—, and he’s never failed to catch anyone he’s in pursuit of. That is, until you came around.

It’s not that Katsuki hasn’t caught you. In fact, he has. Multiple times, actually, which makes it even more ironic. It’s something he could never forgive himself for — but he’d hate himself even more if he gave you away. Sometimes, the simple thought of you is the only thing that gets him through the day.

And, once again, here you are after successfully robbing a jewelry store, you flee the scene with a bag full of shiny, gorgeous goods, easily dodging the local cops chasing you. Losing them is not difficult — you’ve done it on countless occasions, you know the way they think. You let out a gleeful laugh as you run, exhilaration fueling your body as you dart into the alleyway. That is, until you’re yanked by the arm and slammed against the wall. 

A groan escapes you when the impact almost knocks the air out of you, your right hand flying up to curl your fingers around your attacker’s wrist. And you recognize him before you even actually see him, because you’ve been in that exact position before, albeit in different circumstances.

“I know I usually like it rough, Kats, but you should hold back a little,” you chuckle, wincing when his fingers flex around your throat.

“I don’t believe it,” he growls, his lips pulled back in a snarl.

You roll your eyes, taking a deep breath when he finally lets go, rubbing your sore neck.

“Sorry, I meant Dynamight. My bad.”

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I think it’s quite obvious.” You give the bag still clutched in your grip a shake, the jewels inside jingle. The sound alone makes his scowl deepen.

He forces himself to take a step back before your scent takes over his senses. Every single muscle in his body is tense, and you notice a vein pop out on his temple when he huffs in annoyance.

“I thought I told you last time would be the last time,” he mutters, glancing furtively around before pulling you even deeper into the alleyway after making sure there’s no one around.

“Yeah, you also said it the time before that. And, like, a week before that. And—” you break off, your face mere inches apart from his. You can feel his hot breath fanning your cheek as he glowers at you, his hand fisting the collar of your shirt.

“Listen here, brat. Drop the attitude or I’m going to fuck it out of you.”

You smirk, your eyes falling on his lips.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Kats.”

He steps forward until you’re against the wall once more.

“I’m not letting you go,” he warns.

You pop your lips and trace them with the tip of your tongue. Bakugo follows the motion, eyes hazy.

“Really?” you ask, brushing your lips against his. You can hear him gulp, his grip faltering a little. “It would put an end to our fun little game. I’m not sure you’re ready for that.”

And you’re right — he’s not. He fucking hates how addicted to you he’s become. There’s not a single day he doesn’t think about you; the way your lips devour his, your taste on his tongue, the sweet sounds you let out reverberating inside his skull for days on end. No, he’s not ready to let you go just yet, and if the smile on your face is any indicator, you’re unfortunately aware of it. He dreams of you, lives waiting for the day he’ll see you again — get to fuck you again. What he had told himself was a one time thing turned out to become one of his biggest problems, and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

“Oh, bite me,” he spits out.

You chuckle with a mischievous glint in your eyes that makes his entire body tingle with anticipation. He knows that means danger, but the way you cloud his senses always make him just a teeny tiny slower than usual, and that’s enough for you.

“If you insist.”

And your lips are on his. His grip on your shirt loosens completely and it is frankly embarrassing how quick he is to reciprocate, almost like it’s the one thing he wished for and has been waiting for it to happen his entire life. He cages you between his arms, pressing his body flush against yours — Katsuki wants to feel every part of you against him, wants you all to himself. He’s planning to let out all of his frustrations on you tonight, and it’s not like you mind.

His lips trace your jaw with unusual kindness, nipping gently on the skin and exploring the area almost as if he's doing it for the first time. When he lowers his head to kiss your neck, he inhales deeply, and his mind becomes fuzzy and he feels as though he’s been drugged. You’re intoxicating.

He cups your jaw to hold your head in place, attacking your neck with his teeth, his actions growing rougher with each passing second.

“You’re a fucking menace, you know that?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” you breathe out, pulling on his hair to meet his lips again in another kiss. It’s careless and messy, just how it’s always been with him.

You hook your fingers in the waist of his pants to pull his hips closer to you, his growing erection pressing against you. The light friction makes him groan softly against your skin, wide hands traveling down to grope your breasts over your shirt. You slide a hand under the elastic of his pants and wrap your fingers around him. Bakugo hisses. Your hands are a little cold, but it feels good. He’s grateful that it’s so dark, because then you won’t notice how flushed his face actually is. All he can think about is tearing your clothes off and burying himself so deep inside you, he doesn't know where he ends and you start.

You stroke him slowly, thumbing his cockhead to smear the pre-cum along his shaft, twisting your wrist as you tighten your grip around him. Bakugo’s hips automatically thrust into your touch, soft groans and pants hitting your collarbone. You’re having the time of your life. Big pro hero Dynamight, completely at your mercy. The thought of leaving him like that, needy, wanting and desperate for your touch crosses your mind, but you ultimately decide against it. That’d be going too far, and he’d probably blow you up for it.

“Ngh, you damn tease,” he growls. “Faster.”

And you comply.

You can feel your underwear dampening against your skin. It’s uncomfortable, and squeezing your thighs together is accomplishing nothing. Once you’ve had the best, it’s hard to find anything to replace it, and nothing can quite fulfill your needs the way Bakugo does.

As if reading your mind, he pulls your leggings down —you decidedly choose to ignore the sound of fabric ripping, only hoping the damage isn’t bad enough to have you walking back to your place in your underwear—, hastily sliding your panties down your legs and sliding his entire hand between your folds to lubricate his fingers before sinking them inside your sopping cunt.

“Shit, you’re soaked,” he says, feeling everything with his digits. Your lips part open, and your moan is swallowed by his hungry lips. “Dirty girl. Turns you on, doesn’t it? Knowing we could get caught at any moment.” And the way you clench around his fingers only confirms what he already knows. “Oh, you do. You fucking love it, don’t you?”

“Not any more than you do,” you say with a breathy chuckle, tugging on his blond locks. “Think I didn’t notice? I bet you almost came in your pants just by thinking of it. Like a damn hormonal teenager.”

His free hand goes up to curl his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly, and his cock throbs in your hand. It’s not the general scenario that has him in that state — it’s you. You, with your pretty lips, and your nice hair, and your fluttery lashes. You, the one person that has doomed him to an oddly specific failure.

“I’m going to make you eat your words.”

You’re about to reply, instead letting out a loud moan when he curls his fingers, rubbing that spongey spot inside you, and he has you squirming in no time. He spreads your legs open, lining himself up with your entrance and teasing you with the tip of his cock until you’re begging him to put it in.

“So impatient,” he says, pushing his hips forward. You can feel every single inch of him sliding in, both of you groaning when he bottoms out. He stays still for a moment, but it’s more for him than it is for you, although he doesn’t let it show. He refuses to prove you right by cumming in record time. His breathing is heavy and ragged, and he pulls out ever so slowly, choking out a moan with the way you’re clamping down on him, trying to suck him right back in. “Oh, fuck.”

“Katsuki,” you mewl in his ear, and he curses under his breath again, his cock twitching inside you. You gasp when he plunges back inside you, setting a ruthless pace that has you clawing at his back and crying out his name. The wet sound of your pussy sucking him in and the slapping of skin on skin is so loud that you wonder how no one’s found you out. “Shit, Kats!”

Your sweet, sweet moans fill his ears, and he does everything in his power to keep hearing them. His hands touch and apply pressure on all the right places, choking you, fondling your breasts, tweaking your nipples — his mouth bites, licks and sucks on your skin, marking it. He just can’t get enough of you. He considers to know your body well enough, but he can’t help but wish he had time to discover even more.

The way you gasp his name and tug on his hair tells him you’re close, and he is too. All it takes is a couple more thrusts before you’re crying out in ecstasy and creaming around his cock, everything growing wetter, louder and messier. Your spasming walls are what drive him over the edge, and he shoots thick ropes of cum deep inside you, painting your insides white. He rides it out with a series of grunts and moans escaping his lips, a thin layer of sweat making his body glisten under the moonlight.

Bakugo pulls out, struggling to catch his breath. He blinks a couple times to clear his head (an impossible task when you're looking utterly fucked out and breathtaking right in front of him, all thanks to his doing), sharpening his vision as his gaze falls on your thighs, his cum slowly dripping down them. He lets out a low chuckle, snatching your chin to make you look him in the eyes.

“You ungrateful little brat. You’re not supposed to waste it,” he whispers against your lips, a menacing smirk on his lips. His scarlet eyes darken, pupils dilated. “Guess I’ll just have to fill you up again.”

Bakugo takes a long, good look at you. There you are, the one villain he’s never been able to throw in jail, and most likely never will, because that’d mean letting you. You’re the one who floods his brain, invades his dreams and owns his body, because, like the thief you are, you’ve stolen everything — from his sanity to his heart.

[lcriedlastnight]

a stain on the kitchen floor

○ lando norris x sportstherapist!reader

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ : w/c 1.7k. this was so fun to write actually. i'm shit at pacing that's why i haven't written a multi-part story yet so if it's bad don't tell me. also i’m too lazy to proofread these days.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

"i know it's totally normal in the world on formula one, but to me? i think it's crazy. i wouldn't be able to switch up my emotions and feelings like that with some of my closest friends." lando looks over at her from his chair, eyes awfully bright for what was what she considered one of their more heavier sessions.

lando didn't know how he had gotten himself into this situation... well he did, he was just so embarrassed about it! it's not like he would know that her pretty eyes and soothing voice would be just the thing he need to see and hear first thing on a monday morning - especially after a race weekend. it didn't even need to be a bad weekend for him to want to see her and talk you through the weekend from his point of view. when lando realised that, he realised that he fancied her.

forcing himself to zone back in, (he felt bad for always zoning out during sessions. she thought that his mind must've been a battle field but in reality he just couldn't concentrate with her around him, caring words flying around his head and making himself believe that she wasn't asking because it was her job but because her genuinely cared about his mental well-being.) his eyes jump back onto her figure sitting on the chair across from him.

"it's like you said, i'm used to it. we all are." lando shrugs, something he felt like he did a lot in these short ten minute sessions. it has her sighing again before jotting something down again in her little pink notebook.

"lando, i've told you before, you need to stop shugging things like this off. i can tell it bothers you so just tell me how it makes you feel." she tells the boy, a little annoyed but in a second any trace of it is gone and she's back to her usual upbeat self. lando's heart stutters at her words. simp.

"it is a little hard sometimes, but it comes with the job. you gotta be mentally strong to do this too." lando explains like to her like they haven't already had the exact same conversation a few sessions ago. all she does is nod her head, appreciating that he was trying to open up and let her in. before she could dig any deeper though, her timer went off, signalling that their ten minutes were up. lando groans. loudly.

"why're you annoyed? you hate talking about your feelings." she points out and it has the driver turning red and stuttering out some bullshit answer. if she hadn't noticed his little crush by now then lando thinks he might have to tell zak to find someone a little better.

★・・・・・・★

much to zak and oscar’s surprise lando had been attending the sessions weekly, arriving earlier than he ever had in his entire career at mclaren. this didn’t make much sense to them but who were they to judge? at least lando was finally talking about his feelings, regularly, to someone who could help him process them correctly.

oscar always went second every monday. he would watch as lando skipped out of the room, gracing him with one of those cheesy smiles that he was famous for. sometimes oscar forgot about lando’s hesitance the first day because there was no way she was this good to make him switch from being therapy’s number one hater to its biggest fan. she hadn’t even been here a month yet!

oscar was seeing the same girl and he, in the nicest way possible, did not think she was anything special. she was just a girl who tried to get to cold at steel drivers to talk about their emotions. easy enough right? oscar was starting to think that she had maybe coaxed this good attitude towards therapy out of him some way but his mind was quickly changed just before their third ever session with her. it was the most put together oscar had even seen lando on a monday morning, ever! it was like he was doing a paddock walk. that’s when oscar realised that maybe lando’s excitement towards these sessions wasn’t getting to talk about his feelings but maybe because he was talking to her. not to blow smoke up his own arse but oscar wasn’t stupid.

★・・・・・・★

the session after jeddah was particularly difficult for her. in her entire time with lando it hadn’t been too difficult to get him to speak out about how the previous race had gone but as they got further into the season, she noticed every time how it was a little bit harder each time to get him to open up to her.

“lando?” she says softly. they had been sitting in silence for half the session. this had been their worst one yet. she had no idea why this was hurting her so much, maybe she was just too empathetic and felt whatever pain lando had felt.

lando stays silent but looks up at her with so much hurt in his eyes it makes her avoid his gaze as for the first time with lando, she felt a little uncomfortable. it was literally her job to comfort people when they were struggling so why was this time so fucking difficult?

“the session is nearly finished.” is all she can say.

“right.” lando nods.

“i know this was a harder session today but i’m proud of you, you didn’t even need to show up and you did which shows so much progress from our first one.” her words were filled with a sincerity lando hadn’t heard in a long while.

“can i ask you for something?” lando asks. the most he’s spoken this session, she jumps at the opportunity to help him feel even the slightest bit better.

“of course, that’s what i’m here for.”

lando hesitates for. few beats before he’s standing up from his chair and walking towards hers.

“can i have a hug?”

she’s taken aback but she doesn’t let it show as she opens her arms without hesitation. this may be a little unprofessional but that was the last thing she was thinking of right now. if this what was going to make him feel better then she would hug him until her arms went numb. that’s not unprofessional though! it’s just because she wants to help all of her patients. she would do the same for oscar…

lando lets himself relax for the first time since saturday. he lets himself breathe in her perfume and what he thinks is some kind of flowery shampoo. the mix of the two makes him lightheaded in the best way possible.

“i’m sorry for not saying anything.” lando breaks the silence first.

“you don’t have to apologise. i’m here for you no matter what you want to do. i’ve already told you that we don’t even have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” she comforts, hand now running up and down his back in a soft trail of warmth.

“i do want to. it’s just.. hard to break habit i guess. and now we don’t have any time to.” lando confesses, her heart simultaneously bursting with pride and hurt.

“i’m sure oscar wouldn’t mind if we push his session back for this week.” she offers.

lando moves his head from on top of hers in surprise.

“really? you would do that for me?”

she doesn’t answer, instead heading to the door to ask the aussie sitting outside waiting for her. this is professional, all she wants is for lando to get his feelings out.

once lando rants and gets out every single thought and feeling he had over the weekend and she offers her best advice, she tells him something that she hopes sticks with him for the rest of the season.

“we both know that you are capable of this. you are a world class driver in an amazing car that we know you can drive i just don’t want your downfall to be your mind. it’s amazing but you let it hurt you too much. don't let your mind make you feel like you aren't worthy of this. you aren't just a stain on someone's kitchen floor, okay?"

lando only nods in understanding before standing from the chair again, you rise again to stand beside him. instead if asking this time, he just pulls you into another hug, this one feels tighter than the last but you don’t complain. no, you smile into it and weirdly repress the urge to press a kiss on his shoulder. okay, that’s not at all professional.

★・・・・・・★

later on, before the workday for her ends, she finds herself reaching for her notebook. she didn't write down everything he said, she would be there all day with the way he spoke to her these days. it was just things that she felt she would want to circle back on in later sessions, she did it with every client she has, oscar's notes sat a little emptier a divider away. but there was something different about lando's notes that she didn't even realise that she had done until she was reviewing after that session.

she flicks to the divider with his name on it and gets to today's notes.

likes to unwind after race by watching an adam sandler film.

okay, that's still on the professional side. nothing too wrong with that, it's good to have fun and easy ways to decompress, especially as an f1 driver, she tells herself.

doesn't like sushi.

that's... not professional but not weird to write down? she questions herself in her head. she remembers the conversation in her head and can't help the smile that creeps up onto her face at the memory. she should not be smiling right now but that small smile turns into a full on beaming grin as what she had wrote next.

smells like that one cologne from armani.

she can't even remember writing that. her smile drops in seconds, thinking that this was getting creepy. why had she written that? she was going to have to start paying more attention to what she was writing in her sessions with lando. she seemed like a fucking stalker.

she snaps the book shut and shoves it back in it's drawer. it's like this was the push she needed to get moving and get home. she gathers her stuff from her 'temporary' office and throws on her coat, it was getting warmer woking but not warm enough to forgo a jacket of some sort. as she was walking out to the car park she passed by the trophy cabinet and about a million pictures of lando smiling.

she had to get a grip.

[grimsonandclover]

Bot drop + Sneak Peaks

Thought it would be fun to share some little lines from my current drafts... sorry it's been a content desert from me— I have a tiny bit of writers block right now :( I also meant to release more for the anniversary in terms of fics, but hopefully I'll be able to finish those soon! I've got a lot to share so hopefully you enjoy these little sneak peaks that I love sharing. I'm like a kid showing you the worms in my pocket and the stickers covering my arms.

Attention Seeker sub!Patrick Zweig x dom!user

He wants your attention, he wants your rage.

Sanctuary sub!Patrick Zweig x dominatrix!user

Patrick hires a dominatrix. He knows he's pathetic, but maybe you can give him some use.

Endure - Patrick Zweig

He couldn't look at it, at those walls holding his pain in its pores. Patrick could hear them spoken back like an echo and covering his ears did nothing to stop them. The words like water seeping through the cracks in his fingers, pouring and absorbing into him until they became everything he is. His whole body the voice of his father across the table. Even now at thirty-one he's never been wrung dry.

First time blurb - Art Donaldson

Art's barely caught his breath, going back to sloppily kissing your neck as his hips start again. You don't even know what to say, moaning at the friction and force again. The overstimulaiton is making Art whine into your neck but he just can't stop.

Mixed Feelings - Tashi Duncan

If you asked Tashi Duncan how she identified, the answer would be simple: "I'm a goddamn tennis player." That's the only thing she's ever worried about, really. Rackets and practice and tennis sets and shoes and coaches and tropheys and wins. So, when she's asked how she identifies, that's what comes to mind. Not gender or political stance or, god, sexuality. That's never been something she's cared to give thought to.

Linette - Art + Tashi

She looks up, smiling politely and shaking the hand of the man she's heard about in passing. Of the two Jones siblings, Uncle Alwyn is considered the 'normal, tolerable' one. Their mother, whom Art called Granny, passed away when Art was 10. Her portrait, taken in her early twenties, hangs proudly over the mantle facing the dining table. Linette always says it feels like even now she can hear her mother criticize her cooking from there.

I'm Your Biggest Fan! - Patrick Zweig

Patrick's finger is on the dial button of his mom's contact when he reaches the nearest motel. She's the only one with a semblance of a soft spot for him, just big enough to let her son get a place to sleep. Before he presses it though, cigarette dangling between pouting lips in the motel parking lot, he spots you. He tries to push down the idea that you followed him here.

Secretary - Art + Tashi + Patrick

“So, because your broke ass couldn’t afford to take my sister on a honeymoon, I have to suffer through the Rich Dad, Poor Dad audiobook through my breakfast? God, one book isn’t going to magically cure you from your inability to not spend your entire paycheck on ugly fucking shoes for your ugly fucking collection, Gary. I’d rather down a bottle of pills than sit through this, you don’t even have the proper inflection. It’s like listening to a dyslexic preschooler learn to read.”

S.O.S. - Art Donaldson

Art rubs his eyes, vision adjusting to the light in the dark. Stretching arms and legs out in the bed, he groans. "Are you kidding me?" "Sorry..." You mutter sheepishly to the kind of grumpy blonde. You didn't think it would wake him up; you are wearing earbuds and have mastered the art of masturbating quietly (at least, you think so), but maybe it is a little too bright. Art's always been a light sleeper. A glance back at the screen says it's midnight. Like the grandpa he is, Art goes to bed way earlier than you do. Morning practice and all that.

And They Were Roommates! - Tashi Duncan

“I don’t know how to do my makeup like yours because my mom never let me do it growing up. She was kinda a bitch– not that I think women should be called bitches.” You lean back, catching yourself on the arm of the sofa you’re sitting on before you fall sideways. She has to understand you don’t think that. “I don’t. I think it’s wrong. But I do still say bitch, like heyyy bitch. But not you’re a bitch. Oh my god, I didn’t mean that you are one, that was an example–” Before you can go on, your hands wrapped around hers as you continue defending yourself from the non-issue and swaying from side to side on the couch like it’s moving, Tashi interjects. “Babe, she doesn’t think you think she’s a bitch.”

Monday - Patrick Zweig

The material peels from him differently than it used to. He’s gained a little weight since you bought it, filling it out more than he probably should, and it’s tight to his skin when his arms pull the shirt over his shoulders and head. Patrick stands shirtless in front of the mirror, shirt in hand, and tries to see the big changes. His stomach has softened a little, the lines in his arms not as harsh as they used to be. Maybe he’s been sampling too much at work. Maybe he got used to how you’d feed him.

The Book Club - Patrick Zweig

"Me? Joining the book club? I don't read." He shook his head, pursing his lips to the side before slowly sipping from his favorite mug. "Last time I read was probably, what, third grade?" By then, Patrick learned he could get the kid next to him to do the book reports.

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged when any of these are released fully!

[dreaming-of-epiphanies]

𝓛𝓸𝓿𝓮 𝓑𝓾𝓰

Description: Reader screams and Tom is instantly at her door to see what's wrong. Turns out it's a bug she needs him to kill. The problem? Tom discovers he is also afraid of this particular bug. (Reader x Tom, established relationship)

A/N: My roommates and I discovered a cockroach in our room yesterday so that inspired this. And no, we weren't able to catch it yet- it hid under our sink so now we're all afraid to go into the bathroom. Anyway, I kinda hate the title but I wanted to post this before going MIA for a couple days for finals (my first two exams are tomorrow; help). Hope you enjoy!

Warnings: none.

--

The soft but insistent tap of rain against the window echoed through the room as Tom hunched over his desk, his quill moving at lightning speed. The dying candle sat near his parchment, creating a mosaic of flickering light across the paper. He was nearly finished with an essay he was writing about the Unforgivable Curses for Defence class, despite it being assigned earlier that day. He had gone to the library as soon as class let out, snagging a few books regarding the subject (it was easy to find them- he’d had the title memorised due to how many times he’d read them before) and locking himself in his dorm room to write the essay. 

Now, as his quill approached the end of the parchment with sure strokes, he leaned back in his chair, relaxed from the satisfying feeling of another essay well-written. He’d still have to spell check it, of course, and go back through it another day to add in any details he missed. Perhaps he could-

A scream interrupted his musings. It was high-pitched, full of sheer panic and unmistakably hers. Immediately, Tom was on his feet, his chair knocked back by the force in which he leapt up, though he didn’t even attempt to fix it as he yanked his door open, storming down the stairs and across the common room towards the girls’ dormitories. 

Anyone who saw him stalk with such a determined gait would not have clocked him as worried, but Tom’s mind was ablaze with terror. She had screamed. She never screamed- not like that- not unless something was wrong. Something is wrong, he thought to himself, dread seeping in, something is wrong and I’m not there. That thought made him pick up his pace, speed-walking to the stairs and practically hurrying up them. 

He arrived at her door and didn’t bother with the pretence of knocking before barging in, his eyes instantly zeroing in to find her. She was perched on her desk chair, clutching the wall beside her as she looked at the floor in fear. He felt his shoulder relax slightly- she was okay. Although she looked odd, she appeared unharmed. But the fear in her eyes made him tense up again. He would not let her be afraid, not if he had anything to say about it. Nothing would hurt her while he was with her. 

“What are you doing?” He asked sharply, voicing cutting through the air and her eyes whipped up to his. She gasped in relief, frantically gesturing for him to come over.

“Oh, thank Merlin you’re here!” She exclaimed as he stepped inside, letting the door close behind him. “I saw a trollcleg!”

Tom’s eyes narrowed slightly as he approached her. “You screamed because you saw a trollcleg?” Trollclegs were relatively harmless insects. Despite looking a bit creepy with their many legs and annoying buzzing when they flew, they were similar to cockroaches and nothing to be afraid of.

“It was huge!” She shook her head, eyes wide. “Practically the size of a Vampyr Mosp!”

“Why didn’t you kill it?”

She looked up at him sheepishly. “I’m afraid of them.” 

Tom sighed, though it was more fond than exasperated. “Come on,” he said, taking hold of her arm and placing a hand on her waist. “Let me help you down before you fall and I have to deal with you declaring a terrifying insect made you lose your balance.”

“Not until you get it!” She protested, gently pushing his arms away from her. Tom raised his eyebrows in mock irritation. 

“You want me to kill the trollcleg for you?” He asked, and she nodded enthusiastically. He let out another sigh, stepping away from her. “Fine.”

“Thank you!” She exclaimed, straightening up and nearly toppling over in her unsteady chair. Tom grabbed her arms again, steadying her so she didn’t fall. 

“I’ll do this if only to get you down from there faster.” He warned her, only releasing her arms when he was sure she had regained her balance. 

It didn’t take him long to locate the trollcleg. It was hovering near a pile of chocolate frog candy wrappers, buzzing happily around. But his eyes widened when he saw it. She was right, it really was massive. Despite himself, Tom felt a shiver run down his spine. He did not want to get any closer to that thing. 

“Did you find it?” She asked suddenly, and Tom nearly groaned in a mix of frustration and relief as the trollcleg heard her voice and buzzed away. At least he could put off getting nearer to it for a little while.

“We need to be quiet,” he chided her, and she put her hands up in a ‘surrender’ motion. 

Tom crept around the room, waiting for the trollcleg to reappear. It finally did, crawling on the floor next to her trunk. Tom slunk towards it, carefully lifting his foot to crush it with one swift stroke. But right as he was about to step on it, it lifted back up, buzzing directly towards his face. Tom recoiled, stumbling backwards with a very undignified shriek. 

“Get it; get it!” He heard her yelp, clapping her hands. 

“Don’t move on that chair, you’re going to fall!” He yelled, still slapping at the bug, which was fruitfully trying to attack his face- it had no stinger so it really wasn’t threatening at all, just annoying.

“Damn you-” he managed to get out before knocking it to the floor again and quickly stomping on it. Only when he pulled his foot away and ensured that it was indeed dead did he hear her let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“Did you scream?” She asked, trying (and failing) to hide a smile as she got down from the chair and made her way over to him.

“No,” Tom said instantly, and her smile only grew, now looking more like a smirk. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you shriek like that before,” she teased, reaching up and fixing his hair for him, running her fingers through the soft waves. It had been mussed up as he tried to swat the bug away from his face. 

“I intended to keep it that way,” he told her. “And just to be clear, I killed the bug because I wanted you down from that chair as quickly as possible,” he added, looking down at her sternly. “Not because I also dislike trollclegs.”

She smiled slyly, nodding her head wisely. “Oh, of course. I won’t tell anyone it was you who made that last scream.” Tom glared at her for a moment before shaking his head. He couldn’t feign anger at her for too long. 

“Alright,” he murmured, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. 

“Besides, if anyone asks, I can just say you did it because you love me.” She quipped, and Tom rolled his eyes but stepped in closer. 

“Yes,” he said. “That too.” 

--

[omegapheromone]

My omegaverse brain woke up from hibernation again and I just had more thoughts abt this, especially the "workplace-mandated scent patches/perfume" thing lol

Dystopian Omegaverse World where it's so normalized for ANY and EVERY customer service job to mandate all employees to use the "happy-ifying" perfume that companies atart mandating it just because people are so used to it that if a business DOESN'T mandate it and a customer service worker just has their own neutral scent, not particularly happy, just neutral but not stressed out either, people start wigging out and cancelling the company online because "they must be overworking their employees! They seem so tired and rude and uninviting! What a horrible company hashtag boycottthiscompany" when. Actually no the company is one of the few that DOESN'T overwork or torment their employees, it's just that people are SO used to everyone, especially customer service workers smelling like they're super happy All The Time. And because it's a smaller company they can't exactly fight the cancellation mob so they end up just having to mandate the perfumes too and that's how it becomes SUCH a norm that people start wearing those perfumes even if their workplaces don't mandate it, just because they don't want to cause problems for their workplace that could potentially risk them getting fired.

It just slowly becomes a weird societal norm where a NORMAL scent with no chemical joy added eventually gets stigmatized and people start perceiving normal pheromones as "too honest" or "depressing" because a normal scent fluctuates bc of them and a regular, un-altered scent of any dynamic generally acts as a cue to figure out how someone feels or what their mood or opinion is just as much as body language and speech are. And suddenly it's a dystopian hellscape where people are ALWAYS expected to seem super happy and nothing else, so normal neutral or fluctuating scents become uncomfortable and taboo. Depression and suicide rates keep rising and the government's solution is to prescribe more potent chemical happiness perfumes because of some pseudoscientific claims from a century ago that "you can affect your mood through your scent" meaning they think that by making yourself smell happy it will eventually MAKE you happy, but in reality a majority of people are extremely depressed and gloomy.

Slowly people start to believe it's a LUXURY to live a life where you don't NEED to make yourself smell happy, because you just are happy. And slowly it starts to dawn on anyone middle class and below that the ONLY ones who live like that are the 1% of ultra-wealthy people. A social movement starts where people start striking and protesting against mandates on scent enhancers/blockers, and eventually it gains so much momentum that anyone who smells even slightly like chemical happiness (and occasionally ones who are ACTUALLY just happy about something, -although generally people figure that one out as soon as the genuinely happy person gets frightened or upset from being harassed in public-) gets a target on their back, and for a while people swing to the other extreme of starting to block out their scents entirely out of fear that something makes them happy when in public and people start thinking they're either being exploited or someone who is exploiting others. Over time it evens out, sure, but that's when exploitative workplaces that refuse to change their mandates start forcing employees to sign agreements to not disclose that they're being forced to wear a scent enchancer. This becomes especially prevalent in entertainment and public personality related fields, as well as the adult industry (not just sex workers, but also exotic dancers, host clubs, etc other similar venues) and at times, by people whose job it is to attract customers to businesses, which sparks its OWN controversy because suddenly the smell of (artificial/fake) happiness is being associated with vanity and/or sexuality and/or greed, and another social movement starts, etc. I'm sure the general concept is clear enough.

Idk I just think this is actually a pretty neat idea for exploring the social issues around expectations, public vs private "self", exploitative practises in the service industry, etc... I feel like it'd be easy to write a whole social commentary on worker exploitation and the late-stage capitalist dystopia the world is becoming. Using omegaverse.

And I didn't even touch on the idea of how differently this would affect people of different dynamics, and how a dystopian social expectation of "always having to smell happy and approachable" would seriously mess with people, especially when it comes to dating and building deeper than surface-level relationships with other people. Loneliness would be a major problem for sure, but at the same time, you could use this kind of concept to explore gender inequality, sexual abuse & its ties to cultural norms, and overall abusive relationship dynamics via demonstrating how when everyone smells happy and agreeable all the time, consent isn't taken seriously because "you smell like you're liking it though" (which is already a whole thing with a lot of omegaverses where the "heats = consent" excuse is used by creeps, usually as a wonderful way for the writer/creator to explore themes of sexual abuse, exploitation and trauma and what ISN'T consent), and toxic or abusive potential partners become increasingly more difficult to "sniff out" (pun intended) BEFORE the relationship becomes abusive and almost impossible to escape from. Idk there's just a lot of potential for social commentary here, I feel like.

Ok so, between the recent psa about miscecanis scent and reblog of the incels of omegaverse, I can’t stop thinking about how the two would correlate in a verse.

Like, “Chad alphas” could say you need to go buck wild on the Axe so other alphas know what’s “your property” (which becomes yet another omega-repellent because of scent sensitivity). Or even the opposite, where they don’t use anything, like no hygiene At All, because “omegas like the musk” but they just??? Smell like BO?????

But that’s not to say omegas/betas are exempt from this!!!!!! You’re telling me you don’t think some omega incels wouldn’t over-scent all of their bags and shit to like, “allure people in the halls”, but it’s just a Lot and it’s Everywhere. Or even an insecure beta who’s like “can anyone even smell me?????” And it’s like, Yes Buddy, I Promise You We Did Before And Can’t Stop Now

Also just????? The role of actual perfumes in omegaverse. I’m sure they’d exist for so many reasons, but I just wonder like, how they’d be marketed or even placed. Because you’re supposed to place perfume right where scent glands would be normally so I feel like people have a Problem with that while for others that’s The Point, you know?

Idk this just became a ramble. Any thoughts/insights are appreciated :’D

Chai your mind...... this is so good

Niceguy McFedora-type alpha that showers once a month because they think it's unnecessary because your "natural scent" is supposed to be strong to show the "weak and fragile omegas" what a strong and ~healthy~ alpha that will Definitely Treat Them Well you are. (He always has a personal space radius of at least 5 meters or more and doesn't connect the dots)

Or the *ndrewwww t*te type alphas making a point to go to the gym and Not Shower every time they go anywhere in public as some sort of a ridiculous show of dominance and thinking the nasty looks they get from people is because other alphas are feeling insecure and Betas are envious, obviously the Omegas are just pretending to hate it but actually they're all going into heat right now all because of his ~mUsKy AlPhA sCeNt~ (no sir, I know you live in delusion about owning a porsche but this is public transit and your stink is making everyone gag in disgust)

The desperate yet insecure folk of any gender and dynamic buying ridiculously expensive perfumes modelled after celebrities' natural scents (like that one headcanon post) because they think the scent is what made the celebrity famous/desirable/attractive and so if they smell like them then maybe they will also get courted...

And man I'd feel a little bad for the betas thinking they have no desirable scent and trying to "make up for it" because of how much importance society places on alpha&omega scents (that tend to be slightly stronger, sure, but It's not like betas don't have scents!!) And how little betas are talked about in the context of pheromones/scent

Also YEAH on the perfume thing!!!

My own headcanon sort of separates scents into their own cathegories of like, there's the natural scent that's associated with pheromones, it's not the same as body odour from sweat, but also the pheromones are slightly different/separate in that pheromones can affect the qualities of the scent but not the actual scent itself? And then there's obviously body odour, and then on top of that, I think perfumes are often used to either mask or even enchance one's own scent. They'd probably be especially affirming for any transdynamic folks! But also I can imagine some people feeling like their natural scent should be sort of "private" or they just don't want people to pay attention to it, esp if it's very unique? so they'll use fragrances to change it somewhat. Also for people with weaker scents, it could be an insecurity so they'll use perfume to feel more confident?

Oh and I wanna talk more about my headcanon about the pheromone-natural scent relationship! I think pheromones are what cause and are affected by emotional responses, almost like having a sort of... "aura" or "energy" people can read? But pheromones so it's an actual thing. but I also imagine it could affect the actual scent a lot too! I'll use my own peony+peach combo to explain since I know it best, but for example, if I was angry or annoyed, the pheromones would probably make the scent appear slightly "sour", like a sour candy or a flower that's slightly past its best bloom but still emits a really strong scent that starts to smell almost a little "stinging"? Or if I was really content and happy, it'd be like freshly-bloomed peopny blossoms and sweet, perfectly ripe peaches.

Probably in heat the scent would turn more "warm" and "heated" as well as stronger, too, like sitting in a garden of peonies eating a peach dessert during a heatwave in the summer? (Also I just like using that analogy for my own scent a lot. Sitting in a Peony garden and eating peaches. Except in heat it'd be more like a heatwave and much stronger/warmer) Like almost a little overwhelming, but not necessarily in the same way that overusing axe body spray is overwhelming, more like... a heat-scent becomes sort of really thick and warm? And that's why it's so noticeable? Like so ripe it would be "tempting" or something, idk.

For example if someone's scent was "pine forest", and they went into rut, I imagine it'd also increase in intensity a lot. Like... maybe the scent of pine sap really intensifies and gets really "thick"? Or maybe it'd be like... if it rains during a heatwave so the smell is extra strong but also really warm. And maybe someone with a scent like that would smell more like a cold winter forest when they're irritated (which would also be a wonderful way to describe personality through scent- people whose scents turn "cold" and "wintery" being more likely to have that sort of stoic, cold anger than the more explosive hot-headed type bursts of anger...) and when they're content, it'd be like a camping trip in good weather somewhere deep in the woods where you feel safe and relaxed in nature?

Idk man I just like thinking about scents and how scents change based on pheromones & emotions........

I also think perfume could be used to permanently amplify some aspects of specific emotional states in scent. I imagine customer service workers or salespeople using a perfume that maybe doesn't change their scent, but makes them always smell really happy, inviting and nice for better sales results and a better customer experience (especially since I imagine customer service is probably still absolute hell, even in omegaverse... not like they'd actually be feeling very happy to deal with some Karens all day)

Or for people who want others to stay out of their way (bouncers, gangsters, idfk depends on the canon I imagine), they'd maybe use a perfume that makes their own scent always appear a little aggressive/stern, not in the challenging kind of way, but just so people get the idea that it's probably better not to mess with them

But also certain professions having bans on those kinds of things, or even requiring full on scent blockers to be used (especially prevalent in the medical field I imagine)... just. Yeah lots of thoughts on this!

[acotar-girly]

Night's sister

Heyyyy babies :)

Sorry about the loooong wait, but I'm back babyyy (with a fresh hot update for my seriessss)

Really am sorry about the long wait though :(. I was in a dark place, slipping back into old habits, and I was just really stressed with school and all.

So, here it is. Hope you enjoy, because this is an honest to god part of my soul.

(also lol with the rise of the use of AI (ew) in writing, I just wanted to clarify that THIS IS ALL MY OWN WRITING. Please do not reword it and use it as your own, tell people it is AI, copy it and claim credits or ANYTHING that steals my work. If you want to repost it, please do. If you want to post it somewhere (AND GIVE ME CREDITS), feel free to do that :). There has been NO, and I repeat no, AI use in this post. All my ideas, from my own fucked up brain. I hope you enjoy.)

Summary: You’re Rhysand’s little sister, who escaped the spring court when your mother and older sister were murdered. The only living Princess of the Night Court. Rhys is High Lord, and your close sibling relationship is something everyone, even enemies (unfortunately) are aware of. You live with Rhysand. You haven’t met Cassian and Azriel yet, as Rhys is trying to keep you safe and protected. You’ve only ever heard stories of them, and you’ve never worked up the nerve to want to meet them. You’ve been kidnapped, by Rhys’ enemies, while he’s fighting in a war and he left you at home.

In this post: The consequences of trying to escape

TW: kidnapping, graphic SA, graphic violence, gore, describing torture, (but also somehow a lot of fluff later on???)

-please tell me if i’ve missed any triggers and i’ll add them.

The days dragged on, each one melding into the net in a haze of aching muscles and relentless silence. At first, he had been constant with the torment. Pain, isolation and cold. But recently, there had been a shift. It was subtly, imperceptible. But she felt it, as deep as her pain, all the way to her bones. Her captor- no, that's too nice of a word- her tormentor, had changed. Less frequent visits, his touch less rough. And by The Mother it was pathetic, but she was grateful for his gentler voice cooing words (albeit mocking), as if the cruelty of the past was fading, replaced with something... softer. What game was he playing now?

She couldn't quite trust herself to trust it, but a small foolish part of her allowed herself to believe for a fleeting moment that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't as invincible as she had initially thought. Maybe he was starting to underestimate her.

That was her first mistake.

When she saw the faintest shift in the way the door opened that evening, slightly wider than usual, something inside her stirred. She should've known better. She should have known it was too good to be true. Her chains were lighter today. Or had he let his guard slip? The thought settled into her bones, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Bella allowed herself a single moment of reckless hope.

That was her second.

Her gaze flickered to the window, to the small crack of light- the only light she's seen in months. The only constant, the sunlight peeking in everyday. Her heart pounded with the foolish hope. I can get out. I can get out of here. She gritted her teeth against the constant throbbing ache in her limbs, forcing her body into motion, her hands trembling with effort as she tested the shackles again. Loose, lighter. Her thin wrists slipped out with ease. Maybe she had a chance. Breath quickening, heart racing, she summoned a fraction of power left in her, slipping out of the door. One chance- and she couldn't waste it. As her bare feet finally hit the cold, hard ground, the world spun beneath her, pain flaring through her unused limbs. Feeling the air against her sensitive skin, in that moment, was enough.

Thinking she was free was her third, (and last) mistake.

His amused laugh echoed behind her, the sound sending gooseflesh erupting across her body. She froze, every muscle screaming at her to run. But her mind- the little rationality left- is telling her it's too late. It was all a test. One that she failed.

"I knew you'd try." Came his voice, a mockery of sweetness, like honey laced with poison. His smirk was maddening, knowing, as though he’d been waiting for this moment the whole time. “I think you'll learn your lesson, won't you?” he said, his voice soft but dark. “You really should’ve stayed put.”

Before she could react, his hands were on her again—gripping her with an ease that stole the breath from her lungs. His grip was firm, too firm, and he pulled her back into the center of the room, like a doll being placed on display.

Her limbs refused to obey, the pain too much, the fear too overwhelming. She wanted to scream, but the sound caught in her throat. The door was still there, so close—but unreachable.

“I’m disappointed in you, Bella,” he said, his voice a soothing whisper in the chaos of her mind. “But don’t worry, darling. You’ll learn to never try that again.”

And when he's done? She feels like she'll never be sane again. And to really sweeten the honey pot? The *connection* with Rhys. It takes too much of her energy. But it's useful to him. He's chained her to a torture table, taking way too much delight in her pain, cooing sweet words at her, breath drifting on her face. He forcibly extends the connection from her mind to Rhys', amplifying the mental connection. And through that connection, through her groggy and pain fogged mind, he sends Rhys a vivid image of her current state. Bleeding, bruised, broken. At his mercy.

Body pinned down, her captor's hand firmly on her throat, wings sprawled out behind her, limp and drenched in her crimson blood. His voice enters their minds as Bella tries to scream, her helplessness reverberating through the mental link painfully. “Isn’t it sweet, High Lord?” He says, his voice dripping with venomous amusement, “Your sister thought she could escape me. But now she knows better. This is your last warning. Come to me, or I will make sure that she remembers every attempt to leave for the rest of her life.” And with powers stronger than any of them can understand, amplified her pain, making her feel it through the mental connection. Screams of agony hit Rhys in full force in his own mind, and he collapses to his knees, wincing, violet eyes burning with tears.

He removes his hand from her throat, grinning, leaving her crumpled in pain. He lets her just barely recover- shaky breaths and tears- before speaking again. "Try again," he says softly, "and I'll make you regret it." The threat hangs heavily in the air- a dare to defy him again. His hand finds its way into her tangled, blood matted hair, making sure Rhys can see what he's doing, before speaking, tugging her hair sharply backwards. "You'll stay right here, right?" He coos.

She lets out a small sob of pain, beyond words. But the sharp pull of her hair makes her choke out a small, whimpered response. "I'll stay. I pr- promise. I- I'll stay."

"Good girl." taglist (if you'd like to be added please tell me <3): @saltedcoffeescotch @whatasweetgeorgiapeach @nyotamalfoy @zanaorian

[casscainmainly]

I just saw a Post of yours on CassSteph and I just wanted to share my thoughts.

For me, I dislike the ship CassSteph MOSTLY because of the shippers themselves. I have been in fandoms that spread hate to people who don't ship what they do.

For an example: before I watched an anime, the shipping was so toxic that I was tricked into liking a ship until I actually watched the show (I was tricked because the fandom was making a female character look awful so the MLM ship would look good) , and it's not only that, they sent death threats to the creator of the show and to the people who ship something else. It was so bad that the Creator had to make two alternate endings.

I used to not mind the CassSteph ship but until I actually was looking through the fandom's opinions on Cassandra ships, It was very obvious that some of you guys just bring down other people's ships. So whenever I see a CassSteph picture or anything related to it I either scroll away or block, because I don't want to spread hate to any shippers I also don't usually make comments like this.

I just wanted to say that sometimes It feels like this shipping community feels forceful, like you guys are confusing head-canon and canon together. It's also not that I hate the ship JUST because of the shippers, I just don't like them together.

(I'm sorry for the rant, it's all right if you ignore this if you don't agree with me, I just wanted to say my point of view on this ship and again, I don't make these kinds of comments to any shippers I just ignore them. This is the only one I've ever commented on.)

First of all I just want to say that you are entitled, as anyone is, not to like StephCass. It's a fictional ship and you can ship what you want. However, I do take issue with your tone here, and especially you sending this to me when I am obviously a StephCass shipper.

You say it's "very obvious" that StephCass shippers bring down other ships, but that's not true for me. Cass has a ton of ships, several of which I ship myself besides StephCass (I am a huge proponent of TaiCass/ChristineCass, and others love XantheCass, RoseCass etc.); lots of Steph fans also ship TimSteph, StephLonnie, etc. etc. If you're talking about the wlw polls then maybe one or two people were being spiteful but there was hate directed against StephCass too (including literally this ask), and I do not hold those ships accountable for the actions of a few shippers.

I'm sorry about what happened in your previous fandom but you cannot project that onto the StephCass community. The majority of us are huge Steph and Cass fans who love both characters and are fans of the source material. I'm sorry you don't ship them, but it isn't a point of me not agreeing with you, it's that this ask is a little upsetting to receive and you likely knew it would upset me because I am very public in my StephCass support. I kindly ask you not send asks like this again.