#but like i'm playing with them like dolls more than anything else

[just-someone-online]

ngl, the fun part of cross team Precure ships is coming up with fun scenarios to put them in.

Like, Manatsu finds out Minami is friends with a dolphin and internally, she's like 'holycrapholycrapholycrap she's The One.' Or one day Iroha says she wants to cook something with Yui, and Yui's hit with the hard truth that her girlfriend can't cook to save her life.

Mayu and Mai hyper focusing on their work so much that they both end up being late for their date. Or the DokiPre trying to figure out how Urara can stand Mana's singing, only for it to turn out she's wearing earplugs and can't bring herself to tell Mana that she can't sing.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Greedy Little Thing

Requested:

Hii just saw your blog for the first time and I'm in love😭😭. Also saw your asks are open and I strongly believe that the needy Az fic deserves a part two with needyyyy reader (begging) please please pleaseeee. We know Az will be brilliant at thissss.

This was so much fun to write. This is really just pure filth.

Technically a part 2 to this request but it’s not required!

Warnings: so much teasing, oral (f receiving), edging/ orgasm denial, some implied cum eating, creampie, p in v sex (18+), dirty talk, praise, Azriel being a little shit.

WC:3.1K

You very rarely got to see your mate dressed up. So used to seeing him in his training leathers that seeing him in anything else had you practically drooling. But seeing him in dress clothes was enough to bring you to your knees, black button down rolled up to his elbows, black dress pants that showed off his glorious thighs and ass. Your mate was hot, more than hot, he was built like a god. 

“Did you need something, doll?” He spoke. You realized you had come into the room for something. You were going to tell him something but all thoughts eddied out of your brain the moment you saw him. 

“You.” The world tumbled out of your mouth without you thinking. He chuckled lightly as he noticed your stare. And just to tease you, he flexed his arms making the veins pop ever so slightly. You imagined running your tongue over them and heat pooled deep in your belly. 

“It seems you’ve forgotten that we have plans tonight.” He was suddenly right in front of you. His finger hooking under your chin to make you look up at him. 

“We do?” Your voice was breathless, needy and whiny as you tried to recall where exactly you had to be that would keep you from climbing Azriel like a tree. 

“Cassian’s birthday party?” He asked more than spoke. Shit. That was what you had come here for. You needed to know where the wrapping paper went. The fancy thick ones that even Cassian had trouble tearing into. 

“What time does it start?” You broke your eyes away from him to peer at the clock on your nightstand. It was just a little past 5.

“Six. And you still need to get dressed.” You felt a pout rise on your face and Azriel’s thumb popped your bottom lip. He leaned down and gave you a chaste kiss. Well it was supposed  to be chaste but you got your arms around his neck before he could pull away. Teeth instantly sink into his bottom lip. He groaned and trailed his hands over your waist. He used his grip to pull you away from him, stepping back until your arms were fully extended around his shoulders. 

“Keep that up, princess, and we won’t go at all.”

‘Is that a bad thing?” 

“Nesta will come get us herself with how much planning she’s done.” You sighed heavily as he stepped out of your hold, your body instantly missing his warmth. 

“Go get ready and I’ll finish wrapping his present. Since that’s what you came in here looking for.” The bastard knew the whole time but had wanted to rile you up. Fine. Two can play that game. You spun on your heel and stomped over to the closet.

The dress you picked was one you had just gotten. Intricately cut patterns of fabric that covered just enough to be decent. It wasn’t your usual color, opting to not get it in your favorite sapphire blue but instead a red so dark it was almost purple. It matched your skin tone so wonderfully and brought out the color of your eyes. You left your hair down, letting it flow naturally over your shoulder, covering the exposed skin the dress left. Grabbing the matching heels, you slipped out of the closet and headed to grab the set of bracelets Azriel had recently gotten you. 

You struggled to clasp them, holding the delicate chain as it continued to slip out of your grasp. You gave a frustrated noise after the third attempt and went to go find your mate to help you. 

“Az.” You called into the house. Not knowing where he was. 

“In here.” He answered from his study. The door was opened so you walked in, still holding the bracelet to your wrist. You held it out for him, not even looking up. 

“I need your help.” You finally looked at him when you didn’t get a response and felt the surge of lust down the bond. His eyes hungirly roved over your figure. The tight dress clinging to the plush of your breast, your stomach and thighs. He licked his lips as he walked over to you. Azriel took your outstretched wrist with a careful hand and managed to clasp the silver bracelet. 

He placed a soft kiss to your pulse point before pulling you against him. A soft grunt leaving you as you crashed against his chest. His free hand rested on the skin of your back, left open with the low cut of the dress. 

“I know what you’re doing, sweetheart.” He said against the shell of your ear. You fought back a shiver as his breath tickled your neck. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You asked me to get ready.” Your words would have been convincing if it wasn’t for the smell of your arousal in the air. Azriel peeled his hand away from you to catch a glimpse of the watch on his wrist. 

“Ten minutes.” Was all he said before he knelt down in front of you. Your hands followed him down, clutching onto him and settling on his shoulders. He was quick to sling your leg over his shoulder. Opening you up to him. He ran the tip of his nose along the center of your underwear, drinking in your scent. 

“You’re drenched for me, sweetheart.” 

“Az-” You mewled as he reached up to tug your panties to the side. Your hands slid into his hair as he flicked the tip of his tongue over your clit. Teasing the bundle of nerves with feather-light strokes. Your nails dug into his scalp, focusing on the hints of pleasure he was giving you. A breathy “please” leaving your mouth was all it took for him to unleash himself. His pace was merciless, the sounds of his lips on your mingling perfectly with your loud cries. Your legs wobbled slightly and he wrapped an arm around you. Giving you leverage to ride his face, your hips bucking in time with his tongue. 

He had you rapidly approaching your peak. Broken version of his name falling over your lips. 

“Az I’m gonna-” And right as you felt that clench deep in your stomach, he was pulling away. 

A loud cry of outrage left you as you stared down at him. Chest heaving as he placed your foot back down on the ground and stood up to his full height again. He smoothed your dress back into place on your hips, squeezing lightly as he did. 

You felt hot all over, pulse thrumming across your skin. Words failed you as Azriel licked his lips, cleaning your glistening arousal off of his face. 

“I-I was so close.” You whined, closing your eyes as if trying to will the feeling to come back. 

“And maybe now you’ll listen to me when I tell you to wait and not try to tease me like a brat.” He tapped your cheek, a silent request for you to open your eyes. “Now you can be frustrated all night while I decide if I’m going to let you cum.” 

Your eyes widened at his words. “Please. I’ll be good. Please let me cum.” 

He placed a small kiss on your forehead before looking at his watch again. He picked up the present and held an arm out for you. You didn’t hesitate, although a little pouty, to grab it as he winnowed you to the venue Nesta had picked out. 

The girls had spared no expense, and it was obvious as you looked around. Cassian normally wasn’t one for big parties but the century birthdays were always a big deal. Nesta had turned the club into an almost intimate setting but the music thumping through the sound system had your pulse skyrocketing again. You felt it everywhere, still so worked up with not being able to cum. Azriel rubbed small circles into your back, encouraging you to relax. 

“I’ll get us drinks.” He said as he placed another kiss to the top of your head. 

The club was still open to the public tonight, Nesta had just reserved the top floor for Cassian’s party. He would still want to dance with Nesta and she was fully aware of that. You looked around the room for the rest of your friends and quickly spotted them. Cassian's wings sticking out among the crowd. He already had Nesta pulled tight against him. You caught her eye and she pulled away from him with a cat-like smile before she focused on you. You extended the present out to her and she took it to add to the growing pile on one of the tables. 

“You made it.” She gave you a smirk that let you know you must not have been as composed as you thought you were. “I’m surprised with you wearing…that.” She covered her laugh as you rolled your eyes. 

“Azriel was very insistent on being here on time.” As you looked for your other friends you felt your anger rising. No one else had shown up yet, you and Az being the first other couple here. Frustration overrode the lust still buzzing below your skin until you felt Azriel join your side. 

He handed you your drink, suddenly very grateful for the cool glass against your hand. 

“How did you convince them to let you decorate?” Azriel asked Nesta who merely shrugged in response. 

“I’m persuasive.” She responded and you felt the urge to laugh at the image of her storming into the club managers office and demanding them to let her essentially redo half of the club. You took a deep sip of your drink as the rest of your family slowly started to arrive. Feyre and Rhys first, with a small mountain of gifts. Mor, Emerie and Gwen arrive next. Elain and Lucien after, and even Amren. 

Eventually rounds of shots were poured as everyone started to get started for the night. Cassian was glowing with happiness as he danced with Nesta, then Feyre and eventually you. He spun you in a large circle as you tipped your head back laughing. He had gotten better at dancing since being with Nesta, a fact she was very proud of. He had two left feet and no rhythm before he met her. 

The song faded into the next and you excused yourself from the dance floor to get another drink. Azriel was right behind you, hands seeming to gravitate towards your waist and back. He had left teasing touches all over skin the entire night and it was enough to have your thighs clenching together as your mind drifted to the unfinished events in his office. 

“You seem tense, sweetheart.” His hands going to rest on your shoulders, fingers rubbing at the tight muscles around your neck. You leaned into his touch, biting back a moan at the feeling of him touching you so intimately. He chuckled as he pulled away, a deep frown on your face. He was still riling you up, hours after and it was working perfectly. Your thighs were sticking with your arousal. 

“Az, please.” You plead, not entirely sure what you were begging for. For him to stop, for him to pull you into the bathroom of the club and finally finish what he started. 

“Behave.” Was all he said as he pulled you to the center of the dance floor, you drink still waiting on the bar top. 

He pulled you tight against him as the song shifted to something slower, something more sensual. His hips dug into yours perfectly, meeting you beat for beat. Your hands were digging into the front of his shirt, clutching onto the fabric to stop yourself from melting into a pool at his feet. His hands ghosting along your waist, over your sides, brushing every inch of exposed skin had you panting against him. You pulled him down to meet your lips, a sigh escaping both of you as you did. His hands went to rest on the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. His tongue parted your lips and he licked into your mouth. Demanding every bit of your attention. 

You didn’t realize he had backed you into a corner until you felt the wall behind you. It gave you leverage to grind your hips against him. A small part of you was satisfied as you felt his rock hard length through his pants. He pulled away from the kiss, eyes dark and pupils blown. He was matching your breathing, chest rising and falling as he fought to catch his breath. 

You reached your hand down before he caught your wrist and pulled you away from his waistband. 

“I told you to behave.” He growled in your ear. The sound was so perfect it made you want to cry out in frustration. You felt it everywhere. Your toes curl in your heels as you whine. 

“Az. You proved your point. I’ll listen.” Your voice is high pitched. 

“Look at you, so needy for me. I bet you would let me fuck you right here?” Your breath hitched in your throat at the thought. He laughed darkly at your response. “You would, wouldn’t you. My little slut, so needy for my cock she’d let me fuck her in a room full of strangers.” He bit the junction between your neck and shoulders had a loud moan falling from your lips. 

“Az-” He silenced you with a kiss. Hips driving into yours, pinning you against the wall. You wrapped a leg around his waist, exposing your dripping core to him. He growled low in his chest and you felt the world moving around you. 

Next thing you felt was the plush of your large bed underneath you. 

“You want me that badly, princess?” He was already unbuttoning his shirt, his toned chest slowly becoming visible. You nodded, your throat suddenly feeling dry. A small slap to the inside of your thigh had you crying out a yes. 

He leaned over you, arms caging in each side of your head. He eyed you up, a smirk plastered on his face as you panted under him. He reached out and flipped you over so you were in his lap. Straddling his hips, your heels hanging off the edge of the bed. Your hand slipped behind you to take them off but his words stopped you. 

“Keep them on.” Was all he said before he started trailing kisses over your collarbone, down to the space between your breasts. You wanted the dress off, wiggling your hips to tell him as much. Azriel didn’t hesitate. Hands coming up the zipper of the dress and pulling it down excruciatingly slow. He pulled away long enough to slip the scrap of fabric over your head, you arms raising and falling against his chest with a loud smack. He leaned back on his elbows, drinking in your figure. Your skin flushed with need, eyes wide and wild. You leaned down and started placing open mouth kisses on his exposed chest. You went to slide off of his lap before a firm hand stopped you. 

“As much as I would love to see your pretty mouth wrapped around me. I want to be inside of you.” You could have cried with relief at the words. But you should have known there would be a catch. He didn’t waste another second before he was slipping inside of you. Hours worth of teasing making it almost too easy for him to fill you. You sniffled as you sunk down completely. Already drunk off the feeling of him. 

His hands found themselves on either side of your hips, urging you to move at the pace he set. You own arms hooking around his neck as you pull yourself closer to his chest. YOur head rolled back until you were looking at the ceiling, body bouncing with each thrust as you could do nothing but take everything he gave you. 

You felt that coil tightening again in your stomach. Your thighs clenching around his waist, trying to take him deeper. 

“You’re taking my cock so well, sweetheart. Look at how pretty you are.” 

You could do nothing but cling to him tighter, your moans mingling with his own groans. The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies colliding. The bed shook across the floor as he continued to drive his hips against yours, again and again. Your whole body clenched as you were about to tip over the edge and right as you went to cry out for him. He pulled out, flipping you over so you were suddenly under him. You cried out again. 

“Az. Please.” He kissed your cheek, trying to sooth you as you reached out for him. He waited a few heartbeats before he lined himself back up with your entrance and pushed in. 

“Are you gonna be good?” He asked. You would have said yes to whatever he wanted, anything to let you cum for him. You were nodding, voice horse from the pitch of your moans. 

He grabbed your ankles and pushed your thighs up to meet your shoulders, driving his hips with his whole body. You felt every wonderful inch of him this way, could feel how tight your walls were pulling him in. His skin was dewey as a layer of sweat clung to both of you. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as your legs started to shake. Your body so exhausted already as you tried to lift your hips up to meet him. 

“Cum for me, my sweet, beautiful, girl.” He pressed his nose into your shoulder, biting down right as you hit your high. You shuddered in his arms, which tightened around you. Letting you ride out your high as his hips slowed down, grinding against you. It was only a few more moments before he was growling into your ear. HIs hips stilling as he pumped you full of his release. You stayed wrapped around him, basking in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms you had ever had. Body finally relaxing against him. He pulled out of you slowly, your releases spilling out and running down your thigh. Azriel’s eyes went right to the mess between your legs and you saw that glint of hunger that told you the night was only beginning. 

He started to trail kisses down your stomach until he laid flat against the bed. 

“I think I owe you more than one, princess.” And brought his lips to your folds for the second time tonight.

[tia-shay]

Astro Observations 2.0

Thank you all for 222 followers! <3

Take these observations for what they are: personal observations.

Super duper long because I love you all. :)

Aries moons tend to always be on the move. Often times, these natives have something energetically "off" at home which results in them not even wanting to be there. They're the type to always be at work or at their friend's place. May have parents they want to get away from. At least one of their parents leans toward a more masculine energy.

You cannot be in your feelings when you talk to a Virgo moon. Their love language is literally telling you all the ways you can improve yourself. It's not necessarily that they're trying to make you feel some type of way, they genuinely don't think there's anything offensive about it. They're naturally attracted to "fixer-uppers" and they love a good project. Only problem is, people are not your projects and your loved ones are allowed to be flawed.

On the note of Virgo moons, they also have a tendency to be permanently unimpressed. My mom has this placement and my sister and I always wanted grand reactions to the stuff we did as kids, but we never got them. Even to this day, my mom is the queen of giving absolutely nothing extra energetically lol. They literally look like this emoji --->😐. Unless they have fire placements, they tend to be the definition of stoicism.

I've been studying the relationship between Scorpio moons and their mothers for a while now because it is such an interesting dynamic. I noticed in the past, that Scorpio moon natives may experience a rather controlling mother figure, but I've recently noticed that this controlling nature goes both ways. Yes, their mother has control over them and their actions, but they have just as much control over her too. They're almost like puppets to each other. It's an incredibly intriguing dynamic that honestly leaves me speechless. Makes you wonder, in these specific situations, "Is anyone here truly the victim?"

We've talked about how moon signs can manifest and what your mother may have taught you, but what I have yet to touch on is how your moon sign reflects your mother's pregnancy experience. I've studied this a bit and I think my mom is the perfect example! My sister and I have opposing moon signs: Cancer and Capricorn. I've spoken to my mom in-depth about both her pregnancies and here is how she describes them:

-Pregnancy with Cancer moon: she was overweight, gained 50+ lbs during her pregnancy, used food to cope with her abusive relationship, was on bedrest, too depressed to do or go anywhere, spent most of her days in the house crying.

-Pregnancy with Capricorn moon: she was in amazing physical condition, gained less than 20 lbs during pregnancy (10 lbs of that was baby), had endless energy, worked out every day, worked overtime at her job, was broken up from my dad, lived alone, was in her bag.

Opposite moon signs and two completely different pregnancies!! Crazy, right?!

I've heard the theory that Capricorn moons are the eldest child, which is true in many cases. However, in my experience as a Capricorn moon, I'm the youngest and my eldest sister is a Cancer moon. But that doesn't debunk my "big sister" energy lol. My sister has always referred to me as her "big little sister" and when we were younger and my mom left us home alone, she always left me in charge. My Cancer moon sister was known for her big emotions and ability to quickly lose control. This dynamic has always been funny to me. Ex. We had a tornado watch (super rare where I live) and my sister was running around the house screaming and crying. While I was calmly in my bedroom playing dolls keeping it kosher. 🤣

God really did give his toughest battles to Virgo, Scorpio and Capricorn moons. No one else is doing it like us! We came equipped with everything we needed to handle ALL the bs in our families.

Don't scorch me fire moons, but where is the personal accountability? I've seen water signs talk their way out of some situations, but the way a fire moon will dance around the truth really needs to be studied. I made this observation before and a Sag moon came for me which is how you know it's true. 😭

Moon sign compatibility is so real y'all. As an earth moon, I mainly form deep connections and bonds with other earth moons and *some* water moons. The other elements just don't do it for me. Even with my fire placements & degrees, I still struggle to understand fire moons.

I've read before that Leo moons have a tendency to be selfish, which I concur depending on the situation. But I think the reason why some of them act like this is because often times, they are either the only child or the favorite child. So they literally don't know what it means to compromise or not get their way. I've only met 2 Leo moons (that I know of) years apart and they both had the same tendencies and personality. Let me know if you've had a more positive experience with this moon sign!

Fixed moons may have mothers who are very controlling over their lives. Their mothers have a “fixed” idea of what their child’s life should look like. They have a tendency to have a puppet & puppeteer relationship. I’ve noticed that because of this, these natives tend to have one area of their lives that their mother can’t control and they spiral out of control in that area. Kinda like a “look mom, you can’t control me in EVERY way” type thing. The most common areas I’ve noticed this in is their sex lives and drugs/alcohol use.

Of course the above note is based on personal experience. I’ve heard quite a few mothers of fixed moons say to other people: “I made them do this” “there was no way I was gonna let them not do this…” like the kid has no choice in the matter.

Okay, enough about moon signs. For now...

This may not be too popular with the astro girlies buttt I believe we have a tendency to attract the versions of signs we speak into existence. For example, when I first started studying astrology, I was sick to my stomach to see that I was a Sagittarius rising because I had back-to-back experiences with Sagittarius suns stabbing me in the back, so I told myself they were the worst. In time, I wanted to accept all of my chart which included my own Sag placements. I had to heal my understanding and perception of them to see them differently. Now, I attract the funniest and kindest Sag suns! It all started with me. This is your sign to heal your trauma with that placement. 🤍 (yes, this is also a message to myself). What you see won't change until you change what you see!

If there's anything a mutable rising is gonna do it's change their physical appearance.

Earth risings, rising at earth degree, or chart ruler in earth house: these people are less likely to take bold chances and risks with their appearances. Not really the type to dye their hair crazy colors, although they are quick to get visible tattoos.

Virgo in big 6 appears naturally put together. They don't really have to get ready because they stay ready. And they expect the same from you, especially if you're their romantic partner. This is amplified if they have Libra or Leo placements.

I’ve noticed Virgo suns and risings are much less likely to wear makeup. I see them with it maybe once a year and even then it’s like one coat of mascara and some highlighter. One thing I have heard a lot of Virgo women say is that they literally don’t know how to do their makeup which may factor into why they don’t wear it. Virgo moons however do tend to wear makeup.

Aries and Scorpio placements are very protective of their loved ones. One wrong look in their direction and they're ready to pounce.

Gemini-Sagittarius axis: if there's one thing these placements are gonna do it's laugh at absolutely nothing for an extended period of time.

Taurus and Libra placements, do you really need that new blouse? Or that new stationary knowing dang well you have more than enough? No, put it back. Aht! PUT IT BACK. And keep your receipts, so when you get home from that impulsive purchase, you can bring it right back where you got it from.

Something about Virgo, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Capricorn placements in dark academia that really does something to me chile...dark academia was made for us!

Saturn rules teeth. Saturn placements and aspects can describe your teeth’s appearance and health. Saturn aspecting Jupiter may have larger teeth. Aspecting Mercury may result in the native having smaller teeth or possibly getting veneers. Saturn aspecting Venus can manifest as the native receiving many compliments on their teeth/smiles. In the case of harsher aspects, the native can feel their teeth directly hinder their perceived beauty.

I’ve noticed people with prominent Gemini/Virgo/Mercury placements are much more likely to have gaps in between their front teeth. Often times, this is a result of their teeth being on the smaller side.

Virgo placements (esp. moons) can have naturally “perfect” teeth that don’t require braces. But upon closer inspection, you can see their teeth are not perfect, but rather, the imperfections are so minuscule you have to truly look to find them.

Libra Suns typically go for either the relaxed look (very natural appearance, not much makeup) or all the frills (makeup, couture, luxury). I have yet to see an in between. Libras with Scorpio/8th house influence enjoy darker colors and go for a much more relaxed look. More likely to portray a dark feminine embodiment of Venus or a more natural feminine. Especially if they have Virgo placements.

Aries suns (males and females) are the BIGGEST sweethearts and I don’t see enough people praise them for their pure hearts. 🥹

DO NOT under any circumstances copy, paste, reword, rewrite, translate, or repost my work.

All Rights Reserved to astro-enthusiast.

[planet-dusk]

🏷️ mean dom!hyunjin, fuckboy!hyunjin, hyune has a big cock, one pussy slap, orgasm denial, overstim, subspace, pet names: doll, baby

hyunjin bullied himself deeper between your walls, the sound of your drawn-out moans music to his ears.

your hands grabbed at his shoulders, at his arms, searching for anything to hold onto while his thick cock stretched you out in a way you'd never experienced before. after his relentless teasing earlier, bringing you to the brink of orgasm with his fingers and tongue countless times (only to pull back and stop you from tipping over) you weren't sure how much longer you'd be able to hold out for.

"hnng — you-you're bigger than i thought, i'm not sure it'll fit —"

hyunjin grabbed your wrists and pinned them to the bed above your head, wrapping his long fingers around them with ease.

"stop squirming, doll. it's only halfway in. you were the one begging for it earlier."

"that… that was before i knew it was so big," you whined.

"don't say i didn't warn you."

he had warned you. multiple times. talking with his friends about their conquests, laughing at you rolling your eyes. fishermen's tales without a doubt, or so you'd thought. it'd always been hard to tell if he was speaking the truth. there had been a time where you'd thought he could be a lost romantic, with his love for the arts and the books he was always carrying with him. but there was nothing romantic about his addiction to sweet things, burning through them without mercy, throwing them away as soon as they lost their flavor.

it was one of the reasons why you tried to stay away from him. but still you'd ignored all the warning signs when he'd kissed you so sweetly tonight. you'd granted him the one thing you'd vowed you never would: allowing him to consume you.

"do you want me to stop, then?"

you avoided his eyes, fixating on the silver chain dangling from his neck. a long time ago you'd found his love for elegant silver jewellery irritating. as if he tried too hard at his carefully crafted persona. you're not sure when that changed.

"you've always been a shy little thing," hyunjin bend down and brought his face closer to yours. "it's cute. but i need you to tell me what you want, doll. need to hear you beg for it."

you licked your lips. you hated how beautiful he looked even with his hair mussed and his skin coated in sweat. hated how much of a wreck he'd made you. how powerless he made you feel.

how much you liked it.

"because i don't think you want me to stop. look how your pussy is drooling for it — soaked at the thought of being stretched by me. watch what happens when i pull out..."

he rolled his hips back, laughing at the way you tried to tug your wrists out of his grip, your broken whine when he slapped your clit with the head of his cock.

"hyune, please —"

"that's what i thought," he grinned, "i know what you want. you just have to ask nicely."

"w-want your cock, please, want it all," you whispered, heat spreading through your body, mortified by the admission. who knew how many women had been in this exact position before — on someone else's bed, loud music still playing downstairs while hyunjin made them beg for his cock. somehow it would've been better if he'd just taken it from you, no questions asked, only hushed moans and whimpers in the dark.

his satisfied smile told you he knew. he knew, and he loved every second of it.

but what he loved even more was the raw, unfiltered moan you let out when he forced his cock in fully, watching your eyes widen in realization:

"f-fuck, i'm - i think i'm —"

"are you really going to cum from me just putting it in? fuck baby, you're really that desperate, aren't you? poor little thing," he pulled out completely and slapped your cunt with his free hand, "if you're going to cum now you'll be in for a long night." he rubbed his fingers through the mess between your legs, arousal sticking to his skin.

after the earlier denial you were hurling towards your peak embarrassingly fast, and when he pushed back in you clenched around his cock in waves of pleasure, hips bucking into his. you sobbed when he started moving, unsure of where your body stopped and his began.

"'s too much, please, hyune…"

hyunjin let go of your wrists and pulled you closer, bending your knees and kissing the salty tears off your cheeks. you felt yourself slipping away into a floaty haze, the feeling of his cock sliding in and out of you the only thing that mattered.

"don't worry, i'm not done with you yet, doll," hyunjin murmured. "we're just getting started."

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hot and Cold | Charles Leclerc

WC: 3K

Charles x gf!reader

Summery: "I can't do this anymore, I can't be everything to you one minute and then mean nothing to you the next." from my 1K celebration

Warning: angst, don’t think there’s anything else.

Masterlist

Charles Masterlist

Being a Formula 1 driver, isn't easy and it's a very demanding job. You know that and everyone that knows someone in F1 knows that. The sport takes a big toll on everyone involved, physically and mentally. You've seen what the pressure does to drivers. Charles, who you've been with for a long time is a testament to what it does to people.

The road to reaching F1 for Charles was long and hard and he lost so much on the way. There was so many sacrifices he had to make just to reach his destination and achieve his dream.

On track, the smell of burning rubber is strong and the air is filled with adrenaline. It was all familiar to you now. Charles was in his element there more than anywhere else. To everyone he's Charles Leclerc the prodigy, the hope to Ferrari, but beneath that helmet he's just a man juggling the weight of his dreams and the expectations.

Off track, as Charles's significant other, you try to be there for him as much as possible provide all the love he needs, to comfort him when he needs it, to be a stable constant in his life. Charles is a loving and attentive boyfriend, he always wants you to fly with him and be there with him. Whatever your needs are he always tries to meet them.

As the new season progressed though things have began to change, and at first it was just a bad race he'd be upset for a couple of days before he'd become normal again, but then his mood would stay down for longer and the moments when you two could be happy together became less and less. It was rare now to have a moment with Charles that's just the two of and filled with joy.

It was when Charles is home that you started to feel the distance between the two of you. Charles was home but his mind was a thousands miles away, caught in strategies, cars and lap times. As you watched you could see his brows furrowed in thought, his arms absently tapping the arm of the sofa, and a bang of longing twisted in your chest.

"Charles." You called gently trying to pull him back to you, to here, to now. Charles looked up, when his met yours, you can see reflecting exhaustion and something else you couldn't pinpoint. Guilt? Or was it the weight of the expectations?

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" He smiled oh so sweetly, and you returned his smile.

"I was saying if you're not feeling up to it we can cancel our reservation for dinner and go another time." You tell him and Charles takes a moment to answer, and that is telling enough for you, if he wanted to go he would've jumped at the idea of going and refused instantly. "It's alright my love, we can go another time."

"Can we? You won't be mad?" Charles asked and you gave him a reassuring smile.

"No I wouldn't." And you weren't mad, you were sad, you were really looking forwards to tonight, you bought a new outfit and had it all planned out. There was no other time to go, Charles is heading into a triple header and there was no time in between to do anything.

There was no late-night conversations, because Charles wanted to sleep to reenergize, there was no sharing dreams or thoughts, and you haven't been intimate in so long as well. Your heart ached on those night where Charles was sleeping next to you but it felt like he was so far away.

At one point he got you a gift with a hand written letter and you felt like the Charles you fell in love with is back, you were filled with hope. But then the next day he was back in his head, and distant. You're starting to feel like he's playing with your emotions.

Charles one day decided to take you out in Monaco to a café you haven't been to in a long time. You dressed for the occasion, dolled up. The walk to the café was a nice one, you walked hand in hand, talking and laughing. Once you reached the café, Charles got an email from Ferrari and like that he was gone, you ordered for the both of you, something that fit his diet so when you ate he wouldn't feel left out or tempted since he's been hard on himself when it came to the diet and the gym. The food and drinks came but he was still lost in his own world, taking a bite of your food, everything was tasteless, you wanted to spit out the food as your stomach churned. Putting the fork down you signalled to the waiter to bring the check all while Charles is still lost on his phone, he's been good at blocking everything when he's working these days, and he's been working a lot. You paid and he was still none the wiser.

Only when you stood up that he looked up from his phone.

“Amour?" He was confused, he looked around him and saw the now cold drink you ordered him and the bill on the table.

"I'm going home, don't worry about the bill, I paid, when you're done you can come home." You said with a smile and turned to leave.

"y/n, wait!" Charles scrambled to follow you, he walked out after you. Charles jogged until he was behind you, he held your arm to stop you from walking, and as he opened his mouth to speak his phone rang. He glanced at it and bit his lip. He had no idea what to do now. You laughed dryly.

“Just answer." Charles didn't put up a fight and you slipped out of his hold, but you didn't go home, you weren't in the mood. So you walked around the city, enjoying the good weather.

"y/n!" Someone called your name and for a split second you hoped, you hoped it would be Charles, but you recognized that voice. You turn and smile, a fake smile, your heart started beating in your chest as your emotions started to get to you and you fought them.

"Max, hey." You greeted the RedBull driver, you've been dating Charles long enough to be on good terms with the other drivers and their girlfriends. "Kelly, how are you?"

"We're good, how are you?" Kelly asks and you both hug and press your cheeks together in greeting.

"I'm, I'm good." You nod and then bite your lip, Kelly didn't believe you and frankly neither did Max and out of the two he knows you least.

"We were just going back home, if you're not doing anything, maybe you'd want to come over?" Kelly asked and you looked at the couple and gave them the smallest smile you could master.

"No, I don't want to intrude." You say and shake your head no.

"Where's Charles?" Max asks and Kelly hits his chest softly and glared at her boyfriend. Max was a bit confused. Kelly watched your expression, you smiled before your brows wavered and your lips trembled.

"Oh honey." Kelly pulls you in for a hug. Kelly holds you for a few minutes while you calm down, once you did the couple took you back to their home.

Sitting in their living room, you just broke down and told them what's been going on. Your phone started ringing half way through and blowing up with texts from Charles, all going unanswered. The couple were baffled with what you said, to everyone you always looked like the perfect couple, the envy of everyone. Yet, here you are crying your eyes out because your boyfriend has been ignoring you for the better part of the year.

You spent the night at the Verstappen-piquet household before you decided to head back home.

"Are you sure?" Max asked as he walked you to the door.

"Yes, thank you, I'll be fine." You reassured him, and with a quick hug you left. It didn't take long for you to reach your shared house with Charles, when you walked in you heard hurried movements before Charles appeared in front of you.

"Oh mon amour, I was so scared." He did look stressed, you sighed and closed the door lightly, your moves were slow, you took off your shoes and dropped off your bag on the table by the entrance before you turned to look at Charles, it's apparent you both didn't sleep well. You knew Charles had work today, that's why you went out yesterday, but he was dressed in sweatpants and a random shirt, a stay at home outfit.

"We need to talk." You said, your voice tight, struggling to contain the emotions that threatened to spill over. You had given Charles so much time and space in hope that with time he'd find his way back to you, that the coldness in him will thaw and melt, but the moments when you think it happened aren't enough, they're rare and far between.

"Look, if it's about yesterday, I'm so sorry, I should've-" Charles started before you cut him off.

"No, we need to talk about us." You said your voice trembling ever so slightly, you both move to the living room and you sit across from Charles. When you first started dating and until a year ago, you've never sat apart on any sofa, in any room, but it's becoming familiar now. "We need to talk about how we've been struggling lately, our relationship is drowning."

"Drowning? y/n, amour, yesterday I just had an important email and then call about work." Charles tried to explain but it just made you more sure that this conversation had to be had.

"And last week?" Charles frowns thinking about last week, you had planned to go out with your friends, but he bailed last minute to stay home and get on the sim, so you went alone. "And last month? My mum's birthday? Our anniversary?"

"A-Amour, I didn't realise I've been under alot of pressure, you know that." Charles sighed, the sound was heavy and weary, he couldn't meet your eyes, he knows he missed up big time. "The season is in full swing, and I need to focus." "Charles, we've been like that since last year, I only had you for a part of the winter break before you were back at work." You frown, trying to make him realise for how long he's been like this, and you've tried to be understanding, to be by his side and take it. "What about me? Do I not matter to you anymore? Does our relationship mean so little to you?"

"No, it's not like that." He said rubbing his temples. "I'm just... I'm trying to keep up with everything."

"Everything but us." You said your voice gaining an edge as you started feeling angry.

"I... I didn't realise," He stammered, standing up and taking a step towards you, you stood up but took a step back, you didn't want him near you, to touch you, if he did, you'll give up. It hurt him seeing you step away from him, but knows he deserved it. "I'm Sorry, I've neem so caught up with everything, I didn't see what I was doing to you."

"Caught up?" You repeated, the anger in your voice apparent, but your next words took a turn as your voice trembled. "You've been so focused on your career, on your races, that you've forgotten what's really important, I've been right here, waiting, hoping for the old Charles-my Charles-to come back, but all I got are those glimpses and small moments."

Charles' shoulders sagged, he ran a hand though his hair and his eyes filled with pain and regret. "I never meant to hurt you, I just thought that... I thought I could handle it all, I thought you understood."

"I did understand, I do." You said and the tears you've been fighting welled

up in your eyes. "But understanding doesn't mean I can endure this forever. I need you, Charles. I need you to be here, really here and not just you on the phone or in the sim room."

Charles wanted to promise you that he'll be better, but he's scared to make a promise that he may not be able to keep. You knew Charles well enough to know what's going on in his mind, and so the tears escaped and you smiled, it was a painful smile teary and hurtful.

"I can't do this anymore, Charles." You said and you tried to stop the tears from flowing, it's starting to dawn on him what your next words will be. "I can't mean everything to you one minute and then mean nothing to you the next."

"Amour." Charles sounded broken, he loves you and you know that, but sometimes love isn't enough. You've chosen Charles so many times but you have to choose yourself right now, you have to, or this relationship will drain you out. You walk around Charles and head to your shared bedroom, closing and locking the door behind you, you take out your suitcase, and pack your essentials, what you'd need for a week, knowing Charles will be out of the house for a race after that.

When you walked out after you were finished, you saw Charles siting on the sofa looking miserable, you left the suitcase by the door and walked up to Charles. He looked up at you and glanced at the bag behind you. this is it, you're leaving him and he deserved it. He looked broken and it took everything in you not to go back on your decision. You opened your arms and Charles walked in to your hug, he was heavy in your arms. You both held each other for a long while, this may be the last hug you share. No matter what happened there's still so much love that you have for each other making this more painful.

"I'm so sorry amour." Charles muttered in your ear and you ran your hand through his hair and sighed =

"I know, my love, I know." You say back and pull back, you try to give him a small smile. Your hand was on his cheek as you rubbed it, feeling him for the last time. Charles's arms on your waist tightened, he didn't want to let you go. "I'll see you around

Charles."

That was his que to let you go, you kissed his cheek just next to his lips and his hands flexed before he let go. You walked out of his arms. You opened the front door and rolled out your bag before you closed the door you looked at Charles, who was frozen.

"I'll still wear red on the weekends, I'll cheer you on, no matter what." You hesitated before you said. "I love you Charles, please don't make this hard on yourself and don't pressure yourself, I'm choosing myself, so you choose yourself too."

With that you closed the door after you and left.

Being without Charles has been hard, you’ve been together for so long. Even if he’s been distant before you broke it off, you’d always be finding yourself wanting to text or call him. You found an apartment in Nice that you rented until you know what your next steps will be like. Your life has been intertwined so much with Charles’ that it was hard to untangle it. There was this constant ache in your heart.

Charles, on the other hand, was a man undone. The realisation of what he had lost hit him with the force of a speeding car. He threw himself more into his races, each victory a hollow echo of what he truly wanted, his ups aren’t so satisfying now. It wasn’t the podiums that filled his thoughts; it was you, the person who had been his anchor and his heart.

And so one evening, as the sun started to set, there was a knock at your door. You opened it to find Charles standing there, his eyes red-rimmed and weary, a man who had been through his own kind of race, one that he desperately hoped would end with you.

“I know I don’t deserve another chance.” He began, his voice raw with emotion as he didn’t give you a chance to say anything, he was scared you’d slam the door in his face. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am. I’ve realised that without you, none of this means anything. The races, the wins, they’re all empty without you. Please, give me one more chance. I promise, I’ll be the man you need, the man you deserve.”

You stood there, heart pounding, torn between the pain of the past and the love you still felt for him. You saw the sincerity in his eyes, the desperation of a man who had finally realised what truly mattered.

“I still love you, Charles.” You said softly, tears welling up in your eyes. “But I can’t go through this again. You need to prove to me that things will be different, that you’ll be there, really there.”

“I will.” He said, taking your hands in his, his touch warm and familiar. “I swear to you, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. Just give me the chance to show you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the man you had fallen in love with, the man who had been lost but now stood before you, pleading for a second chance. With a deep breath, you nodded, a tentative smile breaking through the tears.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “One more chance.”

And as the sun set, bathing the city in a warm, forgiving light, you stepped back into the arms of the man who had found his way back to you, ready to start anew and rebuild the love that had once seemed lost forever.

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

[syoounn]

•Asking bsd men silly question and proving them wrong

•Characters: Chuuya, Fyodor, Sigma

(This is a silly rushed fanfic just dropping it, lol)

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Chuuya

Chuuya was peacefully snuggled up to you.. as you were bored, of course, and decided to start something silly again. You sit up on a bed, looking at him seriously.

"Chuu.. Would you give me your heart.. if i needed it?" You asked.

“I’d give you more than just my heart if you needed it, Doll.” Chuuya said as he placed his hands together, resting them on his stomach as he looked up at you with a soft smile. “Ya know that.”

"Wrong answer..!"

“What do you mean wrong answer?!” Chuuya was quite confused by the reply, finding it puzzling as his eyebrows furrowed. That was a clear answer right there… Was it because it was too straightforward, or did you really want to be difficult…? He thought to himself.

"You got it wrong, so, no kisses for now," you said, teasing him..

“Dammit” Chuuya mumbled, feeling upset about the wrong answers he was giving, but now a tad annoyed at the fact that he couldn't get kisses if he wanted one. “Dammit, you're being difficult on purpose, aren't you, Doll?”

"Fine, keep bein' difficult then." Chuuya groaned, now turning away from you and burying his face into the pillow so you couldn't see his pout. "I'm trying to kiss ya here, but I guess that ain't happening."

You giggled as you watched him sulking and hugging the pillow. Chuuya's pout deepend, hearing you giggle, knowing that you were deliberately trying to annoy him. He wasn't going to cave in that easily, and so he laid there, continuing to sulk with his face in the pillow. "Shut up, you're so damn cruel and for what...?"

Chuuya grumbled as he kept his head buried into the pillow, making sure his annoyance was apparent, but finding it all too amusing to turn back around.

He could just grab you whenever he wanted to, so why was he being so hesitant now? With a groan and a light huff, he rolled over to see you. Taking a deep breath in, he prepared to grab you, wanting this to be over.

Chuuya felt you go slightly limp when he pulled you onto him, seemingly getting comfortable. Oh damn, you were in his grasp now. He could hold you as long as he wanted to, keep you close to him. He smiled to himself, enjoying the sound of your breathing. With a light snicker he spoke,

“There, now I got ya.”

You're now locked on Chuuya’s arms, making it impossible to get out of it. He buried his face on your neck and mumbled about you being mean as you just chuckled and eventually gave up and cuddled him back.

You still can't help but adore his pissed expression and successfully got him played as two of you enjoyed the embrace of each other and-..

Fyodor

You've never seen much of emotion on Fyodor... so you decided to ask a question since he believes in himself that he's never wrong. He's a smart man, after all.. you just pray that your trick would work on him.

"Can i ask a question..?" you asked.

Then go ahead, dear. Fyodor leans back in his chair, and a small smirk appears on his lips. As he looked like he already knew what you were planning.

"Do i mean the world to you?"

"Of course, you do, beloved. You mean more to me than anything else in the world." Fyodor gives you a soft look, and as he speaks, his voice is gentle, though there's a hint of something else within the deep timbre - something that feels a little off. Your heart skips a beat as his dark eyes narrow, and he leans forward, crossing his legs.

Therefore, he didn't say the real answer as you were happily about to prove him wrong.

"That’s a wrong answer..!" You said.

He snorts. "That's wrong? You're telling me that's wrong, dear?" An unreadable look passes through his eyes.

"It should be, i mean the universe to you," you said proudly and finally had a chance to prove that he's wrong by your own words.

Fyodor stares at you, his eyes almost seeming to shine with a dangerous shine. "Do you want me to ask you a question, my dear?"

You looked at him confused as he spoke with the smile of his.. "Do you think I would make you my wife if you didn't mean the universe to me, darling?" Fyodor's voice is low, and there is no trace of his usual humour when he speaks.

You completely froze and got defeated there... he definitely got you.

He chuckles as he leans back slightly. His voice, although still cold, turns back to one full of amusement when he speaks once more. "Now, my dear, don't look so scared. I'm sure I can help you with your worries." Fyodor gives you a small wink before he gets up from his chair, his movements graceful and smooth as he walks over to you and wraps his hands around your waist... as he slowly-..

Sigma

Holding a soft smile as he looked at you with those shy loving grey eyes of his.. Sigma has always been soft and gentle with you. He's currently cuddling with you after a long day from managing the Sky Casino. You decided to confuse him, perhaps.. "mess" with him.

"Hm.. if you said the correct answer, I'll give you something.. "

“And what question is that, my love?” He asked while still holding your small frame close to him in his arms, his hands gently rubbing your shoulder and your back. His soft smile never faltered.

"If you were in a room with 100 women.. would you be able to tell my laugh?"

“Without a doubt.” Sigma replied instantly. He could easily recall your cute and bubbly laugh. It was one of his most favourite things about you, apart from his love for you, of course. He's so in love with you..

"Incorrect..!"

“But..?” He seemed confused by your reply. He truly believed he was able to tell your laugh easily apart from others. He then looked at you with some form of disappointment, waiting for you to tell him the right answer.

"Why would you be in a room.. full of women?" You asked suspiciously...

He went silent for a moment. His facial expression was still one of disbelief. He eventually spoke his answer to your question after processing it.

“I wouldn’t be in a room full of women, I’m only interested in one.” He then softly chuckled in that same shy, loving manner that he always did.

“The one that’s currently in my arms.” He added afterwards. He then brushed his thumb through your hair, keeping a soft, loving smile.

“I have no interest in being in a room full of women, or any other woman for that matter apart from you.” He reassured you, his soft loving smile never faltered. He was still brushing his thumb through your hair.

“That’s the real answer.”

And yes.. as you expected.. you can't really continue what you were planning as you can't help but melt on his touch and loving gaze. It's hard to try and mess with him on how adorable he looks.. you really got defeated without even trying.

Sigma chuckled as a result of your defeated expression. His soft, loving smile stayed in place.

“I knew you were trying to pull something. But I was able to answer it just fine.” He teased you, softly placing a kiss on your forehead. Since you would always pull the unexpected on him, he always managed to win using that loving gaze of him.. your weakness.

Ranpo

(Bro already knew the answer before you could even asked.)

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[yameoto]

TOP TEN BENEFITS. JORDAN, CATE, ANDRE.

synopsis ; you and godolkin's finest go out for some fun, just like any other night. little do you know, is that they have a little more in store for you than just partying.

oh. also, you're luke's girlfriend—not like that's going to stop them.

✗ warnings ; dark!jordan, dark!cate, dark!andre, cnc, dubcon, intox, foursome, cheating, strap-fucking. wc ; 1.9k

DISTANTLY, you can hear voices. you're not sure, really; your head's all dizzy and groggy, and your mouth is so dry you wonder if you’ve been chewing on cement. god.. you really can’t remember anything. how strong were those drinks?

"we sure about this, guys?" comes a voice, echoing on the outskirts of your mind. it's familiar. masculine.. or feminine? you really can't tell—not in this state, at least.

"of course we're sure." someone else interjects, gruffer, this time, clearly masculine. it sounds a lot like.. andre..?

"i mean, look at her," whispers another, voices so low—like they're trying not to wake you. this one's higher, more feminine and— oh that's definitely cate. "how could we not?"

how could they not what? nothing makes sense—not in your foggy, hungover brain at least; one that you're becoming increasingly suspicious is addled by something stronger than shots. but that can't be right—you hadn't blown lines with the others, had you? no, you definitely hadn't. so why does your head hurt so fucking much?

"guys..?" you mumble, trying to sit up on what you distantly realise is a bed, the edges of your vision still blurry. as it adjusts, you're met with the sight of jordan, andre and cate all standing over you, eyes strangely lidded, gleaming. "shit— she's up," jordan hisses, grip on your thigh tightening, and its then that you realise your skirt is gone—the entire stretch of your legs exposed to the three of them.

"fuck," cate sighs, lips drawing into a pout as you feel her hand, bare hand, hover over your other thigh, head jerking up to face the others with a frown on her lips. "should i do it again?"

"no," jordan and andre hiss in unison, exchanging a meaningful look as their fingers twitch, restless. "c'mon, you know you want her awake for this."

"awake for what?" you grumble, head throbbing far too much for you to wrap your head around the conversation. "i'm too hungover for this." you swing your legs off the edge of the bed, reaching for your discarded skirt before two pairs of her hands shoot out to stop you. your vision swims, and with a disconcerting lurch you realise you're so fucked-up you can't even tell whose is who's.

"you won't need that." jordan mutters, breath hot against your cheek as they curl their hand around your wrist, dragging it firmly into their lap. what the fuck?

"sorry about the skirt," cate hums affirmatively, eyes drifting to the poor, ripped thing on the floor and you swear you see the beginnings of a smirk curl her lips "someone got a little excited."

"hey—" andre puts his hands up, not looking too sorry at all. in fact, he looks like he's barely restraining a grin. "don't act like you two weren't drooling—"

"touché." jordan interjects, eyes rolling yet looking entirely too pleased with themselves as they play with your hand in their lap, inching it up their own thigh. “you look better without it, doll.”

"warm her up, jordan." cate's eyes flash, gaze boring into the sight of you, splayed against the pillows, and you resist the urge to whimper.

"don't tell me what to do," jordan grumbles, but there's a grin stretching at their lips and you almost wonder if cate used her powers with the speed in which they comply. their loose grip on your wrist becomes inordinately tight as they deftly undo their belt, dragging their pants and boxers down in one, swift move.

oh, fuck.

"hold on— i—" you splutter, stupidly, glancing between the three of them and jordan's throbbing, leaking cock. it gently bobs into your hand; head pink, glistening with pre-cum and you just want to—wait, what?

you're dating luke. you're dating luke. a spike of panic sends you twisting, surprisingly lucid for a moment as you attempt tugging your wrists away—to no avail, of course. top ten ranking aside; you don't stand a chance against three supes, especially not the three of them.

"hey— shh." jordan catches you, eyes flashing for a moment as they slowly, ever so slowly, guide your hand back to their cock—grunting when your fingers limply wrap around their tip. "fuck, that's it.." they groan, head tilting back. jesus fucking christ.

you don't even realise it when andre drags your panties down your thighs—and your flush only deepens at how fucking wet you are. that has to be the high, right? there's no way—why else would your cunt be dripping into the goddamn sheets, like that? for three of your friends? boyfriend absent from the room, no less. a feeble, embarrassed whine falls from your lips, as three hungry pairs of eyes have no shame in hiding how much they want to fucking devour you.

"look at you, so fucking wet." ande’s voice comes a deep rumble, belt unbuckling with a click as he inches closer. his hands slide over your thighs as he moves over, all the way, and you make another strained noise as his cock hits your belly.

"i think it's cute." cate hums, eyes glimmering as she leans across the bedspread, hands wrapping around the base of andre's eager, bobbing cock and directing it towards your splayed legs. andre’s basically fucking trembling with restless need, cate’s own breaths shallowing, picking up the pace. "luke ever get you this wet?"

your teeth tuck into your bottom lip, eyes squeezing shut because god, luke.. what the hell are you doing here? it feels like betrayal. it is betrayal—they need to stop—this is wrong—

you whine, making a choking noise as jordan’s grasp on your wrist steels enough to snap bone. you want to say; luke—? yes—he fucking has—i think—but you find you barely have the strength to moan, let alone protest.

“nah, i don’t think so.” jordan smirks, smug, as if they know exactly what’s going through your head as their hand guides yours; forcibly pumping your hand along their length. their frustrated growls of pleasure are enough to make you blush—let alone the feeling of andre’s hands roughly shoving your legs apart, spreading your folds open with two of his fingers. you whine, quivering, glazed pupils meeting his.

"fuck, luke's gonna kill us—" andre grunts once he finally rams into you, audibly groaning as you slam into the blankets with each thrust, inciting the most strangled little cries from your throat. it’s so much—you can’t help but thrash a little, under his touch. cate lets out a displeased hum, though at his words or his roughness you can't tell.

"what luke won't know won't hurt him." jordan counters from the other side of you, lips twisting into a grin as they bite into your shoulder, still moving your hands in thrusts along their length.

they keep shifting—each time you're distracted by cate or andre the feeling of their cock twitching under your hands changes to fingers sinking into sloppy, wet heat. it's ridiculous how hot it makes you, just jacking them off—but it’s not like you have any room to comment with andre thrusting into you like an animal, snarls coming out of his mouth as each movement sends you reeling with white-hot, carnal pleasure.

"move, you brute." cate interrupts, voice cutting through the blinding, purely instinctual pleasure of andre pumping you full like a rutting dog. her eyes glitter with an annoyance that give way to barely-restrained lust, and in your sex-drugs-cate induced haze (you're still not quite sure which it is, yet), you faintly register the plastic in her hand; long, thick, pink and fuck— is that a strap?

"not yet, cate, i'm almost done—" andre cuts himself with a guttural, bestial moan as his cock rams into you, again. you can feel it twitching inside of you; hear his breaths growing shallower as he grips your hips, so tight they might bruise. "oh, fuck—!" he groans loudly as he comes, thick, hot seed filling you up, hips still thrusting as he crams as much of his load into you as he possibly can. it takes a beat before he reluctantly pulls out, chest heaving.

"fuck, you felt so good," he groans, hands clumsily tugging you forward for a kiss before he's promptly pushed off before your lips can touch. "about fucking time." cate grunts, voice sharp, weight of andre on top of you replaced by two long, toned legs swinging on either side of your body, cate's hands running over that fucking strap at her hips. her lips curl into a smirk as your eyes—still glassy from andre's force—blink blearily up at her. you’re still so dazed, so adorable. she leans down to cup your chin. "you're such a pretty little thing," she murmurs, thumb brushing against your bottom lip, gaze darkening as she begins to prise your mouth open, gleam in her eyes giving away to sheer, unadulterated lust.

"open wide." she whispers, and that's the only pre-empt you get before you're choking on silicone, her hips bucking forward as she shoves herself into your mouth. her hands tighten in your hair, jerking you forward so that the entire length forces itself down your throat. tears spring to your eyes. you feel jordon's hands getting rougher as they use you to fuck themselves, teeth digging into your skin to muffle their own whines while your own, keening “mmfs—!” peter out to soft, quiet whimpers.

"you're so good for us," jordan moans, burying your fingers hilt-deep into their cunt, walls pulsing desperately around you. "so fucking good," cate assents with a breathy, pleasured groan of her own, back snapping as if it were her own cock that you’re gagging around. from behind her, andre’s hands are wrapped around himself, moving furiously as he arches over the bed. “you have no idea how long we’ve wanted this.” he hisses, one hand madly jerking himself off to the sight of cate fucking your face like she owns you, the other tangling in your hair. cate audibly moans, bucking into you further with a sharp inhale. "wish i could come in you for real." she mumbles, fingers running along your jaw as you splutter around plastic. she smiles, tilts her head up to look at jordon as they mutter something unintelligible, her thrusts increasing in pace, fucking your throat so raw, so good. "jordan's got something special to give you." she murmurs, voice honey sweet, hand dancing up your cheek.

you can hardly gargle a response through the strap in your mouth—but you don't have to. not when, with a resounding moan, all questions are answered with jordan promptly shooting their load all over your face, thick, hot strings of cum leaking around the edges of the strap and seeping into your mouth. they both groan, jordan slumping into your side with soft, intermittent pants.

"god.." they mutter into the crook of your neck, cate's thrusts slowing as she starts to loosen her grip on your hair; though not stopping, never stopping. "you're ours." jordan grunts, gripping your thigh with sudden, overwhelming intensity while cate continues jerking the strap down your throat, smile tugging at her lips. “ours." she echoes, voice soft—almost gentle if you didn’t know any better. she leans down, hand stretching out; smearing jordan's cum across your cheek in one, long, clean swipe. "fucking ours."

poor, poor luke.

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

bratty r saying prompt 23 to police officer wanda who's prompt 19.

Long Day

Police officer!Wanda x bratty!fem!reader

Summary: Wanda had a long day at work, but you just can't help yourself

Word count: 625

Warnings: Daddy!kink, uniform! kink, degreation, use of term slut, dumbification, r is a brat, overstim, mentions of edging and spanking, poly! If you squint

A/N: Suddenly I had inspiration for this so sorry about the wait! I still have more requests to get through and I will get to them as soon as the inspiration hits for any of them.

19. I want you. I need you.

23. Don't be gentle with me I like it when you're rough.

Wanda had a tough day at work. You know she did just by the way she came through the door. Before you could even do anything she was behind you, bending you over the kitchen counter. A gasp leaving you as one hand sat between your shoulder blades and the other going over the swell of your ass.

“Daddy had a long day. I want you. I need you. Just be a good girl and take what Daddy gives you okay?” Her accented voice husked out. A shiver running down your spine as you turned your head. She was still completely in her uniform, which always turned you on. You knew what was waiting for you between her legs. She always wore it, especially when she worked. Your favorite red 8 inch strap.

Though you knew she had her bad day you had to poke at it. You always did.

“I was in the middle of cooking your dinner! Can't this wait?” Wanda grabbed your hair, pulling you back up against her.

“What was that? I don't think I heard you right. Because if it was anything other than ‘Yes Daddy use me’ you're going to regret it.” She growled by your ear.

“What are you going to do? Hm? Spank me? I like that. Edge me? You'll give in eventually. Overstimulate me? I like that too.” You remind your girlfriend in a harsh tone. A tighter pull on your hair.

“How about I call Natasha up? I bet she'd be fun to play with right now.” The mention of Natasha was nothing new between you two. Both of you loved having fun with your switch friend.

You wanted Wanda of course. You just wanted to rile her up a bit. You wanted her to be rough. Not leave you behind for Tasha.

“No wait Daddy! I'm sorry, please! Don't be gentle with me Daddy. You know I like it rough! Want you to fill me up! Want you to use me for your stress relief!” You practically begged as the shorts and panties you wore now sat around your ankles.

You could feel your own wetness coating your thighs as the faux cock nestled between your folds. Your hips bucking back into her. “Daddy please…” Wanda was never good at being patient and when she wanted you she'd take you. Begging was a rare occasion for the two of you.

Wanda wasted no more time before pushing into you with a low groan. A shaky moan coming out as your body adjusted to the sudden intrusion. Wanda pushed until she bottomed out in you. Your tongue sticking out and the only sounds to be heard were her slamming against your ass and the little whimpers and moans you let out beneath her. The red head leaned over, pushing the weight of her toned body against you.

“Who are you?” she husked by your ear.

“Daddy's slut!” You cried out.

“What else?” She kissed over your shoulder blades.

“Daddy's personal doll to use as she wishes!” a moan ripped through you. The coil in your stomach is tightening from your own words. “Daddy! Daddy can I cum? Please Daddy?” the shake to your voice out of desperation made her chuckle.

“Oh of course you can, but Daddy isn't going to stop until she's had her fill.” You nodded dumbly in agreement. Your brain slowly shutting off as orgasm after orgasm rolled through you like tidal waves crashing against the rock walls at the beach. Turning into the perfect, pliable doll for your Daddy to use as she saw fit after a long day on the force.

Tagslist: @dorabledewdroop

[222col]

sugardaddy!art is completely devoted to you, as are you to him, until a dm from patrick lights up your phone late one night | 18+

it was tashi who introduced you two, at some adidas party. she'd met with you the day before, pitching the idea of forming some kind of relationship with her husband. she admitted that she knew he needed more than her, he needed intimacy, attention, devotion. things she wasn't capable of giving, her focus was on his tennis and recovery. art was attractive, and successful, you were considering. tashi explained that in return for your devotion to her husband, the two of you would supply you with anything you wanted. "so, i'd be his sugarbaby?" you questioned her. she simply shook her head. "you'd look after his needs, while we looked after yours."

she introduced you to her husband, "this is the girl we talked about." he had followed you on instagram the night before, so you imagined tashi had shown it to him after your conversation. she leaves the two of you alone. you're younger than him, much smaller in frame, you can feel the power he has over you. but he strokes your arm lightly, telling you he can't wait to get to know you better.

art falls head over heels for you, you see him nearly every day. always giving him every ounce of attention he craves. it's not hard, he's beautiful, funny, always doting on you, complimenting everything about you. he fucks you like the world stops moving once he's inside you. you're like oxygen to him, he can't really breath until he's with you. art and tashi sleep in separate rooms, as months go by, you start staying over. occasionally bumping into tashi the next morning, she always greets you with a smile and thanks you for looking after her husband. the dynamic is strange, but it works.

art kept you very private, away from his fast paced life in tennis. he followed your instagram, sure, but you were a sportswear model. who's to suspect anything strange about a professional tennis player following a sportswear model. it's a year into you and art's relationship that patrick follows you on instagram. you knew he and patrick had patched up their friendship, since they played each other in a challenger somewhere in new york, some nine months ago. but still, you can't imagine art ever mentioning you to anyone other than his wife. one, for the sake of his public image, but two, he'd never want to share you. he always asks you if you go on dates in your time away from him, but always reassuring him that you don't. "i'm yours art, i don't want anyone else."

stalking patrick's instagram, alone in your apartment, payed for by art, you see how much he's turned his life around since playing in that new york challenger. art had mentioned that patrick wasn't reaching his full potential while they weren't on speaking terms. but now he's playing in big tournaments, winning them and earning his reputation back. that's obvious by his instagram, he's travelling the world, in style. you see the notification of him liking one of your posts, as you swipe through his. no, this is bad, you think. another notification, a message this time. shit. you have to tell art. does he already know? has he told patrick about the relationship you share? it's late, you know art has a match tomorrow, you decide not to call him.

patrick's messages are flirty, you can't work out what he knows, if he knows. you flirt back. you know it's wrong, but you do it. you think about art's pout as you tell him you're flirting with his best friend when you're sworn to him. you wipe that thought from your brain, reading the messages patrick is sending you. he's in your city for a tournament, you question how he knows what city you live in, it's in your bio, he responds. oh, yeah.

what are you doing right now?

fuck. fuck. shit. it's 10pm, you're still dolled up from the dinner art took you to. you look back at your phone.

wanna meet me for a drink? there's a nice bar at my hotel.

he sends you the address, it's only two blocks from your apartment. your feet are moving you off the couch, discarding of your robe, the dress art instructed you to wear to dinner still gowns your body.

be there in 15.

why the fuck did you do that, you think, reapplying your lipstick. your mind is running a mile a minute. you slip your heels back on, grabbing your handbag and locking your apartment door behind you. art. patrick. art. fuck, you can't stop thinking about art. you still don't know if patrick knows, but you can't ask because then he'll definitely know. you haven't been with anyone else since the day you met art, it would break him knowing you're going for drinks with another man. let alone with patrick. you collect yourself as you arrive outside the hotel, you'd been here with art. you didn't recognise the name, art always books the rooms. you stayed here with him the night before he signed the lease to your apartment.

walking towards the bar, you remember the way, patrick is perched on the end of the bar. he smirks when he sees you, you smile and walk over to him. standing to greet you, he kisses your cheek, "glad you could join me, i was getting lonely." he's in a white button down and jeans. "glad i could be of service then." you flirt, sitting on the stool next to his. your knees touching his as he orders you a glass of wine. "there's no way you got this dolled up in 15 minutes, sweetheart," the bartender places your wine down next to you. taking a sip and giggling. "no, of course, i'd only been home an hour when you messaged me, i went out to dinner and hadn't gotten changed yet." patrick is leaning towards you, like he's trying to read you.

"you're telling me, you went on a date, came home, then came to meet me? that's hot." patrick laughs into his beer. "no, no, it wasn't a date," you lie, art would cry if he heard you say that. "it was just dinner with a friend." patrick doesn't really believe you, but he doesn't push. "so, you're in town for the tennis tournament?" you question, sipping your wine. "yeah, i play my first game the day after tomorrow." you know it's the same tournament art is playing in. "i was actually going to stay at a friends place who lives near by, but boy am i glad i didn't now." his hand lands on your exposed thigh. fuck, he must mean art. you don't even realise you're leaning in closer to patrick. "me too," he just smiles at you, drawing circles on your skin.

you come to the conclusion that he doesn't know a thing about your relationship with art, the most he could know was that art followed your instagram, he will have seen when he followed you himself. you don't know how it happens, but after a few more glasses of wine and flirting, patrick's lips crash onto yours. they're not as soft as art's, he doesn't have the same respect for you to wait for you to open your mouth to push his tongue in. his hand is moving further up your thigh, pulling away from the kiss. "what'd say? wanna fuck a famous tennis star?" he whispers in your ear, he's so fucking arrogant. another famous tennis star, you think. you can't resist him, he's so different to art. art cares so deeply for you, touches you so softly, asks if you're okay. patrick is cocky, only sees you as a girl to add to his list. you can't say no, you know you should but you can't. all you can do is look up at him through your lashes and nod.

he fucks you from behind, ripping your dress off your body as he pounds into you. you'll feel guilty about that tomorrow, art loved that dress. he spanks you repeatedly, he doesn't care that it hurts, he just cares about getting himself off. he flips you over, holding your ankles and pushing your legs close to your head as he keeps fucking you. your fresh set of nails dig into the skin of his thighs, nails moving to his back once he drops your legs down. you scratch the length of his spine, he winces with a smile on his face when he realises you've drawn blood. he spits in your mouth, slaps your face, its animalistic. he pulls out and finishes all over your stomach, he doesn't care that you didn't finish. he collapses beside you, instinctively you start kissing and caressing the marks you left on his body. kissing every bite mark and scratch you gave him. he softens, breathing gently as he strokes you hair. "no one's ever looked after me like this," he states, sitting up to drink the water your holding for him. you simply kiss his forehead in response, his heart is nearly beating out his chest at the sweet way you're looking after him, after just fucking the life out of you without giving a single fuck. you pull the blanket up over his naked body, getting out of bed to gather your belongings. "stay with me?" he pleads, you can't resist.

you wake up in patrick's arms, shit. shit. shit. it's 9am, you check your phone, a text from art, two hours ago.

good morning, baby. hope you slept well, off to my morning training session before the match later today. call you when i can xx

you turn around and look at patrick, fast asleep. you reply quickly to art.

good morning, my love. have a good session, already can't wait to hear ur voice <3

you're not lying. you hear his voice everyday, it's part of your routine. you put your phone on the nightstand as you start getting out of bed. "please don't leave just yet," patrick mumbles in his morning voice, holding out a hand for you. "let me just use the bathroom real quick." you respond. you smooth out your hair in the mirror, attempting to clean up your make up with only your finger, slipping into a robe on the back of the bathroom door. you return to patrick, sitting on the edge of the bed as he sits up now, leaning against the headboard. "i have a proposition for you," you tilt your head at his words. "i need you in my life, i need your body, your kindness," he begins. oh no. "i was thinking, if you were to look after me and my needs, i could do the same for you." you know exactly what he means, you've heard it before. your phone lights up, your ringtone playing. 'A.D' flashes across the screen. fuck.

[sm-baby]

OFF-LIMITS

freakshow AU by @hootbon

Context || The Chosen one (Part 1(??))

PRETEND MARRIAGE FIC LETS GO!! Off-limits is a non-canon sort of continuation for The Chosen One!! Also Just putting it here: Showtime is not canon in freakshow AU!! I'm just.. being indulgent-👉👈

Word count: 7750

The pacing is a little off but I'll let you be the judge...OK ENJOY BYE HUGS AND KISSES!! NO BETA WE DIE LIKE MEN!! also if Hoot's reading this I'm so sorry.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were many benefits to being the ringleader's favourite.

One of them is being proposed to, apparently.

She didn't think her body still had the capability to choke, but apparently it was all too possible. She gagged, punching her fist to her chest on the flavourly assault on her throat, hacking wheezing as the grip on the tea table tightened. 

Pomni winced, eyes twitching and swallowing before sitting back down with a not-so-casual tone in her voice. She faked a laugh “Haha… what-”

“ I'm marrying you."

The man sat on the opposite side of the tea table, classy, with full manners. the way his hands were politely on the table, proper yet focused… Caine so specifically wanted the meeting in Pomni’s room... She was perfect for the setting. A doll playing tea party. Classic. Simple. 

“ A-And what does-”

“ It means my brother can no longer claim ownership over you." 

Pomni inhaled and stirred the tea in her hands. She fawned a fake sympathy towards his perspective humming along as if she understood his reasonings…but she choked, this time mentally. 

Were they seriously still on that dumb brother’s quarrel? Ownership? She didn't think Able would want to do anything with her after their last meeting but it seems the tension she's been feeling between the both of them has been growing… Caine’s brother has been nicer to her lately, she assumes, still in the effort for him to be in her good graces… but she didn't think it would really lead to anything, nor would she let it. 

“... Ha." Was all that left her. Pomni doesn't often know what to say in tense situations. She lost herself in her thoughts, cupping her tea in both hands, nervous and tense. Of course, she definitely doesn't want to do this. She was more so thinking about a way to decline him rather than a yes or a no.

Uhh… hmm..

“ You would still be performing, but this also means you get to sleep in the old manor. Or so I think that's what husbands do… unless my sources are wrong which—“

Pomni could spit out her entire drink! That changes everything! “ YES-" she slammed her hands on the table.

Caine wasn't startled, but rather, just looked at her, raising a brow at the rude interruption. he'd look down, seeing that pomni just spilled tea over herself and the table… what manners. 

“ Uhh-... Yes- that- that is what husbands do, yes… “ she sat back down, her voice awkwardly lowering to a timid whimper. 

The gentleman barely looked at her, rather levitated a napkin to wipe the table. It was a cruel silence, almost like he dared her to explain such rude behavior. 

Pomni cleared her throat “ sorry, I-I would uh… love to be married- to-- You… ?” Is that how one says yes to a proposal? 

“ Ha. It humours me how you think you have a choice in the matter. “ Caine snapped his fingers, and the napkin disappeared. If he were to be perfectly honest, he saw no qualms in letting Pomni live in the manor. He would relish in the thought of her walking past his brother knowing she was officially unattainable. A sort of trophy of sorts. A taunt mayhaps. A jest. A silly funny mockery.

Meanwhile Pomni’s brain was completely somewhere else… 

To have access to the circus on the regular while having more time in the manor… no more stupid games necessary, no more-- having to kiss up and hold the balance towards both brothers! This was a win! Of course this isn't a ticket out of the circus, but she's going somewhere, and it's refreshing compared to the circles she's been running for the past few months. 

Pomni looked up to see Caine, sitting across her, this time with a hand extended to shake. 

As soon as she shook his hand, a ring formed around her finger, from thin air, seemingly out of nowhere.

“To show that you're reserved." 

Pomni looked at her finger, and-- honestly the way he said that made her skin crawl. Caine always saw Pomni and the others as lesser than him. And the way he proposed was no different from a person booking a seat at a restaurant. 

The deal was struck and Caine wasted no time to get up and leave the room. A small good bye greeting, closing the door behind him, but otherwise his business there was done.

Pomni was still sitting on the tea table, thinking to herself, staring at the ring on her finger. It was like it was part of her body. She would try to pull it off but to no avail, no budging or anything. 

She grit her teeth… great.

The two went their own separate ways thinking nothing and everything about the transaction… though it must have been quite the sight to see Caine leave the room, and have Pomni follow a few moments later, now with a ring on her finger.

“ No f@#$ing way.” Jax thought, seeing the sight.

She didn't know what she was expecting, but it was certainly a Caine wedding.

The ceremony itself? she could barely remember any of it. Rather, small clouds of memories that were important.

The way she walked down the aisle so stiffly, like a gun was pointed at her head. The way Caine placed a ring on her finger, Kaufmo’s death gurgles as he officiated their wedding…

There were small comforts. She didn't actually think of it as anything special— more just a necessity rather than an actual wedding, but some of her friends tried to make it special for her. Ragatha was sitting front row in support not for the union but for Pomni herself– Kinger hallucinating, holding her hand in a father daughter dance. And Gangle making the the effort of getting her a wedding gift– or what she could give anyway…which was a drawing of her in her wedding dress.

Caine wasn't even present in the after party. He just placed the setting and left the guests to their own devices. That was honestly a relief for Pomni for a short while, to be able to hang out with the closest things she had to “friends”. She had the lone memory of Ragatha and Kinger giving her a drink, and asking her how she was doing.

They've both been well aware of her motives by now. Exit, exit, exit. At this point they were convinced that was her form of insanity. But they supposed that little bit of hope was keeping her going.

Kinger turned Ragatha then back to Pomni. “ We hope you know what you're doing.”

“ I never said I did…” the bride said, her pitch getting timidly higher. “ But– it's a direction! I don't have a lot of expectations either, but…hey, I think I'd regret it if I didn't take the chance. ” She looked back up at them, embarrassed at her short rambling. “ Oh! I hope– you two are holding up relatively okay tonight?”

Ragatha chortled.

Kinger answered “ We haven't been okay for years, Pomni.”

“ Y-Yeah…I… I should have seen that coming, yeah…”

Suddenly, a slow song came on the reception. 

Most of them weren't fond at the idea of a slow dance at first, but a tap from Ragatha to a ribbony friend (and a sister begging the other) later, people were on the dancefloor.

Ragatha danced with Gangle, then exchanging partners from her to Kinger. The Gangle AI found it funny to force Kaufmo and his rabbit friend in a dance. The night was going off with a hitch.

Ragatha swayed back to exchange partners from Kinger to Gangle, and the magician was off on his lonesome again. He took no offence to this, but standing in the middle of the dancefloor on his own, to a song that used to be considered romantic, he couldn't help but freeze.

He stared at one of the guests in the distance, the one who decided to sit out the activity. The one in the dark staring daggers at him as they dawned the very torso that used to bring him warmth.

Maybe…

… If she was still in there…

He could ask if—

Before Kinger could take one step further, a hand took his own, the hand of a very worried bride clearing her throat and walking him back into the dancefloor. “ Kinger, this sounds like a good song!” Pomni laughed nervously, heels clacking as she pulled him gently but insistently.

Kinger blinked, and turned to her. “...Oh! Yeah! It is!” And just like that, the old man was brought back to the dance floor.

It was almost like the poor were invited to their first celebration. Some were laughing, and there were definitely moments of teasing and natural play, but at the end of the day they knew they would be hungry again. It was an inevitability. Some chose to spend it to the fullest, some chose to wallow, some chose to make the best out of it.

Pomni struggled to keep up with the magician’s stature, but they figured it out after their earlier father daughter dance. She would be pleased to see that He was almost experienced with the way he moved.

Her dance partner wasn't all that mentally present, but she could see that he was calm. The way he listened to the music and closed his eyes was disassociated. But it was a look of contentment. 

His grip was so sure yet gentle around Pomni. Holding her like it was the last dance he would ever have with someone. 

She could only imagine what he was picturing in that brain of his. She dared not interrupt.

“ I've danced with someone before... I think.” 

Pomni looked up at him. “ What do you mean?”

“ I don't know who that person was, but I remember feeling very nice when I was with her.”

Pomni sucked air through her teeth. She's heard… read… stories from Ragatha. Although it wasn't the most in detail, she figured out the jist just from hush-hush language she used.

She had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on. But it wasn't her business to correct him.

“ She must have been a great person.” Pomni said.

For the first time Kinger didn't feel like wood. His eyes relaxed just from that simple validation, a moment of blissful unawareness of where he was or who he was. Love spread from his heart, to his chest, to his finger tips, to the… little…friend? Yes, friend… that he was dancing with.

Pomni was well aware that she wasn't the person he was seeing at that moment. He had no thoughts, but the feeling of a powerful comfort took over him, he didn't care to take back anything else. Not his memories, not his sanity, not his mind. Like holding the hand that he once kissed. Spinning her, laughing with her, holding her close when the clock struck a romantic midnight. 

He could feel a tear escape his eye.

“What about you, Pomni?” Kinger opened his eyes and suddenly realised that his hands were holding at nothing. Not a person, not anything. Kinger blinked and looked around, that blissful feeling suddenly becoming fleeting. 

He was by himself on the dancefloor again

“... Pomni?”

Pomni would catch herself tripping forward. What was once the tiles that was the dance floor was now wooden, and unfamiliar. “Wh- wha- where…?” 

In the blink of an eye Pomni was somewhere else. For a moment she was confused before turning around and seeing her new found husband, back turned to her, sitting, looking down from the balcony they were at.

“ Awfully rude of you to dance with someone more than your own husband.” He didn't even bother to turn to her. He was still looking down, hands on his would-be chin, sitting on a long chair made of cushion and fine wood.

“ I-I was just dancing with—”

Pomni was cut off by Caine slowly patting a space on the seat beside him. The cushion, comfortable, yet sturdy. Pomni gulped before approaching.

When she joined him she could see the view from above…it was an indoor balcony built for the rich to watch the poor. 

From up high, Pomni could see the other performers, and quickly she scanned the dance floor to see Kinger, shaken, looking around and interrupting Ragatha’s dance in worry for where she went.

Pomni bit her lip and sunk down. Guilt over took her. She stood on her tiptoes, hands on the wooden railing and waved to be seen, to let them know that at least she's safe, and praying that they understood that she didn't leave them but-

Caine’s hand grabbed her arm. “ No, no. Let them figure it out.”

She froze from his touch. Caine guided her hand to make her sit down and she sunk in the seat right beside him. She looked down to read the others distress and felt immense relief when she made brief eye contact with Ragatha which then the assistant turned back to kinger, calming him down without making it obvious she's seen them.

Pomni sighed.

On her way to lean back on the chair, she felt an arm wrap around her shoulder, then pulling her to her side.

She stared at it for a moment, the arm. her body stiffened at the all too familiar touch, before looking forward, sweating, in denial at the situation.

Caine crossed his legs, an ankle on the other knee, still looking on at the view in front of them. His posture was far from hers. Swaying his crossed legs, relaxed, and confident. for a moment he looked at her and back down at the party. 

Amazing reception as always, Caine. You've really outdone yourself with this one.

They stayed there in silence for a couple of moments. Caine was all too comfortable and Pomni had nothing to say to him. The groom would say that his bride looked beautiful that night, but in the most objectifying way possible. She was an accessory. She always was. Nothing different from a beautiful pearl necklace. 

Maybe it was the way he was gripping her, but Pomni couldn't breathe with all the tension in the air. She let out a shaky breath, a face comparable to a cat hypervigilant towards a cucumber. Sometimes she forgets how affectionate Caine can get with her physically, and every time she just accepts it. Not like she can do anything about it really.

“ Wine, boss!” A servant walked into the balcony area. A voice so signature, and unmistakable Pomni didn't need to turn around. Caine and his bubble were inseparable except for the moments when they weren't. If she hadn't known any better she—

Pomni came back to reality.

…Wine?

“ Thank you, Bubble.”

Pop!

Caine didn't even have to lift a finger, the wine bottle was already levitating towards him as well as a wine glass, ready to pour.

“ Wine???” Pomni flinched, turning her whole body towards the bottle.

Caine blinked. “ Oh! How could I forget, you've never had this…” He thought to himself. 

He would never let the circus members have wine for multiple reasons. The poor PG rating would go down if their mouths were without filter. And also he didn't need to have a bunch of wild animals run a muc and destroy the circus tent. But right then, he duplicated the wine glasses into two, pouring one for himself and for his bride. 

“ Consider it a reward for being so attentive today.” 

Pomni got her glass, and held it in both hands. God damn. She hasn't had alcohol in so long.

It was as plastic as expected but wine wasn't there for the texture. She was just about ready to drink the night away. Pomni tried to play it with manners but admittedly took longer sips than what she could usually handle.

They both continued the night in silence

and Pomni waited…

And waited…

And waited…

And… 

Motherfucker, this isn't doing anything to her!

The visible frustration was clear and Caine couldn't help but let out quiet snickering.

“ Huh—!?”

Caine snickered again, barely audible, but less is more. Pomni couldn't help but feel embarrassed. There he is again! Playing with her like always! “ You didn't actually think I would let it affect you, did you?”

“ No—! I… I didn't even think that you could--! I..!” The woman gripped the wine glass. “ ugh! ”Had it been for the fact that she had to watch herself around Caine, it would have been in pieces by now!

Caine would continue to laugh, not seeing any of the woman’s frustration as a threat. It would take a great deal to scare Caine. One could take a knife to his throat and he wouldn't take it seriously. Pomni wasn't even sure if fear was programmed in his AI.

But Pomni stared at the floor, eyes scribbled, forcing herself into disassociation to stop herself from doing something she’ll regret, and suppressing any more anger.

She hated him. She hated where she was. She hated so much of this. She had a long fucking day and she really didn't need this. She couldn't cry, she couldn't scream. She felt the strongest urge to have a tantrum in her room but that wasn't possible! She just can't win in this shit hole!

Ugh! God DAMN IT!

So much screaming went through her head, but it was nothing but silence on the outside. She was just about ready to be completely immobile for the night. Mentally skip pass the rest of the day, she could just explode and she would be okay with it.

Caine rolled his eyes and took a sip from his glass, but Pomni’s overall energy was too loud to ignore. He sighed. 

The groom lifted her head up by poking a finger on her forehead, and forcing her to look up at him. “ As much as how beautiful you are pouting, it's really ruining my night.”

Silence.

“ Pomni, do you want to be intoxicated?”

Silence again.

…Caine patted her face.

“ Huh? What? Where am I?”

“ I'm noticing your desire to be intoxicated. Do you want to be drunk?”

Pomni squinted her eyes and furrowed her brows, looking at him in question. Suspicious. “ What's in it for—”

“ I will give you the ability to be intoxicated if you stop seething. I will not have this attitude on my wedding night.” Caine said, grumbling, taking another sip at his glass. “ So I ask you one last time, would you like to be-”

“ YES!” pomni cried!

Caine squinted his eyes at that reply, once again unamused by Pomni’s rude interruption. But this time she wasn't apologetic at all, rather grabbing at his collar desperately.

she continued. “ God, yes, please—” 

Oh he really shouldn't be rewarding this behaviour. 

And just like that, Pomni's glass was filled once again. It didn't take her long to start sipping but their mini deal came with boundaries:

(1)She is to take her time and behave while drinking.

(2)Caine has the ability to make her sober again at the snap of a finger.

(3) She may only have one glass of wine.

That was it. Truth be told, I didn't care for anything else. If she gets aggressive he could easily subdue her. If she hurt herself, as long as her dress wasn't ruined he was fine.

At first it felt like nothing. Pomni was just calm, her speech becoming slightly slurred, but otherwise it was just Pomni. She looked light weight and she was light weight. 

Ah, that's more like it. Quiet. 

He wrapped his arm around her again, and this time Pomni just accepted her fate. She leaned into his touch, thinking of him as nowhere different from a pillow.

Pomni’s vision could go blurry with how little attention she was paying at that moment. But she couldn't help but wonder. The blinding lights, the food, nice decor… and asked: “ Why all the effort?”

“ I don't say no to a celebration to my name! and yours I guess.” Caine mumbled that last part in the middle of a sip.  “… and if my brother asks one of you, you have the right to say that our wedding was official.”

“ God, you two are such brothers….” Pomni muttered under her breath.

“ Only by code.”

The bride put a palm on her face, muffling her words. “ No… the fighting. The quaralling, the one upping…  you act like little boys.”

“ …Excuse me?”

“ I didn't even think marriage can be official in the digital realm… you make the rules. Might as well make wedding certificates and it would be just as official.” Pomni chuckled. “ But you married me cuz you wanted to make your brother jealous.”

… He didn't have the energy to reply to such an immature, untrue, false, made up, retort. He just rolled his eyes. He had too much self respect to entertain such false assumptions. “ Ugh…” his face grew in disgust. Pomni without filter is worse that he thought. At this point he'd prefer if she got aggressive instead.

Time passed. Pomni wasn't very pretty when she was drunk. She'd have the ugliest laugh, and the crudest things to giggle at, though, the last one was a little amusing. But Caine was just waiting for til the moment the glass was empty so he could— pop! Snap her back to soberity. 

But something intrigued him.

She started talking about his brother.

Her filter became less and less. And Caine perked up when she did. She talked badly about Able’s taste in music and art, how annoying it was whenever he visited the circus, how much she despised his very existence…

…Caine filled her glass again.

“ —a-and that nagging voice! ‘That sounds wonderful, sweetie!’ ‘ Oh, Pomni, you're so smart!’ God!”

Caine chuckled, and started leaning closer towards Pomni to hear her better.

Pomni continued,“ Oh he's so pretentious! And so-- so—”

“ Condescending?”

“ Yes! C-Condescending, patronizing, I— what am I? Nine??!”

Caine laughed! Oh hearing slander about his brother was music to his ears! And to hear it from someone to passionately-- he can't get enough! This was making his night!

“ S-say… was my glass always so full?” Pomni turned to her wine glass. She could have sworn she's been drinking for an hour at this point… she doesn't remember refilling it!

“ Hm? Oh, no no, digital hellucinations, my dear. Do carry on with what you were saying.” Caine pushed her wine glass closer to her chest, not bringing much attention to it.

“ Oh. Right. As I was saying…”

Oh Caine was having the time of his life. Smug chuckling left his teeth, absolutely enraptured by Pomni’s unfiltered bad mouthing. Shes been putting into words feelings he held for far too long. Ahh, he could stay there for hours.

“ I mean— at least you don't even-- try to hide that you don't like me. You don't act like friends with any of us.”

Caine could feel himself blush, playfully swiping his wrist at her. “ Oh you're too much.”  She was praising him now? Why, Christmas came early! How can he not enable this behaviour? “ Keep going.”

The trauma bonding would further on, but at some point Pomni tuckered herself out. The alcohol was getting her, she's been talking long enough, she's been full of hate enough today. Pomni leaned her head back on the chair to doze off, before Caine shook her awake. 

“ Hey!” He grabbed her face, mushing both her cheeks. “ Awaken! Tonight hasn't ended yet. We have yet to full-fill the husband/wife quota.”

“ Mmm…you're already my husband, remember? Kaufmo said so at the..the..” Pomni yawned. “Wedding.. ceremony…”

Caine groaned!

Snap!

“ Oh- damn it!”

And just like that all alcohol was erased from Pomni’s system. He also fully woke her up. Pomni can never truly escape that day. She groaned into her hands as she felt energy return to her body.

“ Come, come.” Caine got up and fixed his suit. “ Let's at least greet the guests off. Then you'll sleep at the manor.”

“ On my way…” 

Alcohol truly was a temporary darling. Just when she felt her sorrows were drowned away, she came back into reality— at an even worse state.

The two teleported back downstairs to end the party. Caine announced it's end and Pomni was saying goodbye to her friends. She greeted Kinger goodnight, waved Ragatha goodbye while she was busy with (one of) the twins. Jax’s goodbye was nothing but mockery, gesturing to her like she's some little princess in her wedding dress, which Pomni froze in embarrassment. Zooble wasn't even there when she came downstairs…for the better maybe. They always made her skin crawl.

The guests were away and the two were alone once again. At the snap of a finger, Caine fixed the entire reception. Any mess, streamers, decoration, gone, as if there never was a party to begin with.

Caine fixed his coat and arranged his gloves, dusting off all the mess that came with being in the vicinity of the others. Meanwhile, Pomni was thinking to herself— something she never thought to question…

“ Hey, Caine…” she looked up at him. “ When you said ‘sleep at the manor’, what —”

And swoop! Next think she knew he swept her off her feet in the traditional bridal style position, and before she could react—snap! They were teleported somewhere else! A bedroom that was nowhere like the others.

“UH—” Before she could say anything, Caine put his arms out straight and dumped her on to the bed. Man. What a romantic guy.

Oof Pomni frowned when she was dropped head-first, so carelessly and aggressively on the cushions… she groaned in misery— before remembering where she was.

She quickly got her head up and looked around! She was wrong! This place was familiar!

“ Huh!?”

“ My bedroom.” Caine said so passively. “ Well technically now it's yours as well, but. It's mine.” It looked like his mind was occupied with something else, he was staring forward but he was not at the present moment. She knew that look, he was searching something in his database.

“ When was this??” 

“ Since I told my brother you were moving in.”

“ Why??”

“ I'm ignoring you if you keep asking questions.’

Pomni looked around… this was like the guest room they made for the performers but grander. The bed was even a little higher— God forbid she falls off in her sleep. 

Caine fits right in the room’s aesthetic, Pomni was completely out of place. The room’s palette was red and black, with linings of gold here and there… Caine really hadn't bothered to make it accommodating for her. She just sat there in silence awkwardly like she was just invited to a friend’s house.

Man…can she even sleep in this? She looked down on the sheets: they were red, The pillows as well. the wood was furnished black and if she looked up, she'd see a chandelier at the ceiling. 

She shivered… Her old bedroom was weird, but she's spent just enough time in it to grow comfortable. at least she fit in its overall aesthetic. But she doesn't think she could say the same for this one. This whole room screamed Caine.

“ Ah. Here it is. ‘How newlyweds spend their wedding night’.” Caine said, and continued to look forward. 

“ What…N...No. Caine, don't read that.” Caine really…really…did n o t need to know about human customs. She's going to die from how awkward this was about to be..

The AI muttered what he was reading, “ ‘ Spend time together, Newlyweds often feel drained after a day of celebration …’ skip.”

“ Caine.” Pomni winced. “ Caine, did you not do research beforehand-”

“ ‘ When both couples lay in bed together it's important to have both parties feel safe in each other's presence—’ ickk.. skip. Are there any alternatives?”

“ Caine, I'm going to throw up.”

“ ‘According to a new survey with over 350 recently-married couples, nearly 40 percent of newlyweds had—’...” 

Caine squinted in disgust. 

“ I'm not reading that.”

Pomni at this point just gave up and put her head on the pillow.

“ Seeing as none of this is applicable to us, let's just skip this step of the consummation. As much as it pains me not to properly follow the process. I'll just leave you here and you can sit out the night. Good?”

“ I-”

“ Wonderful.” Caine snapped his fingers and the two were back in their usual outfits. He was back in his ringmaster clothes and Pomni was in her sleeping wear. And by sleeping wear, it means her usual tutu. Because she does not have sleeping wear.

Caine fixed himself up and pulled a blanket up on Pomni’s body. That's good enough. Husband's say goodnight to their wives if he was correct? 

Caine scanned his database again. 

Yeah, he was correct. 

“ Goodnight, dear.”

“ Ahh…” This was weird. “ G-Good.. Goodnight.”

And just like that, Pomni was off to sleep. Meanwhile, Caine teleported out of his room into another place at the Manor. He dusted his hands off and was already somewhere else mentally. he had other matters to attend to, another show to organize. He's spoiled himself enough with a night celebrating his name, now it was back to work. How Caine liked to work.

Morning followed and Pomni was snapped awake with a booming greeting “ Good morning, dear.”

Pomni screamed.

Her heart would beat out of her chest from the surprise-- forcing her up from her fight or flight

She flinched away at the sight of Caine's face inches away from hers. They sat there in silence for a moment… Pomni gulped, before looking pass him and seeing where she was then remembering the night before. 

“Wh…” the red bed, the chandelier… “Oh.” Pomni look at her hand, the left, and saw the ring that stubbornly stuck to her finger. but before she could say anything more, the blanket was thrown off of her, a snap, and the next thing she knew she was sat on the vanity table.

Oh god-- everything was going so fast… Caine snapped his fingers again and her grooming mannequins teleported in. “ I'll leave you here to get ready. I must awaken everyone else for role call. There should be a door to the circus down the hall! Be there.”

Pomni forced a smile and two thumbs ups, then, Caine was off.

She looked at herself in the mirror. She hadn't considered how little privacy she had now that her and Caine shared the same bedroom. Will he be doing this every morning? God, not only is it an incredibly inconvenient start of her day, it's also like having the world's most dangerous alarm clock.

Pomni put a hand through her face and grumbled, keeping herself awake— less so in the physical sense more in the emotional motivation sense. And before she knew it, the mannequins brushed her hair and did their work.

The next few days were something she had to get used to. Every morning Pomni would be greeted by a routine wake up, and every night she would be dumped back into bed, greeted goodnight, and Caine immediately leaving a second later. “Goodmorning, dear.”, “goodnight, dear.” again and again. Caine really was committed to the husband role-- though it wasn't far for AI to follow certain routines and patterns after acquiring a new set of data.

Oh how could she forget: 

Able spent more time in the Manor than Caine did. She would often see him around the house minding his own business, doing his own half of work. He never tried to make small talk anymore which was a stark contrast to his overly friendly persona towards her before she got married. The sounds of violins would go quiet when she walked in the room. It was as if he could just walk pass her with how invisible she was to him. He didn't have lips but she felt that if he did, it would turn into a scowl.

Once, she remembered walking pass him in the hallway, that time she tried to start conversation and—

“ Able?”

“ Don't talk to me.” With out even turning around, his heels were already clacking away, posture more spiteful than his usual.

It was odd but Pomni rolled her eyes.

Good riddance.

During her stay though she never stopped looking for an exit. Being in the brothers’ home was a system all in itself. Ever since she moved in, Caine apparently was there more often. This made it hard to navigate but memorizing both the brother’s schedules didn't take long. Being ai they were very systematic, consistent, as long as there were no human interruption nothing was stopping them from following the same routine.

To be in close vascity between Caine and Able meant no privacy. Pomni snuck around to investigate, less she’d be caught and teleported back. She's tried most of everything, but the brothers’ Manor was bigger and more…liminal, than she thought. 

For every one hallway it felt like there were 50 more. Door after door, an endless maze of nothing but unfinished projects and code. The Manor was a testing facility… a place where the brothers tested out code and concepts before applying them at the circus… there has to be something.

At some points she was so deep into it she didn't think either of the brother's could hear her. She didn't know if anyone could hear her. She could scream or laugh as much as her manic mind can get, and no one could. It was comforting in a way to finally be left alone, but dread came with it.

The dread or never making it back home. The dread of never leaving this torturous realm. 

Things started to get blurry.

The wallpaper was repeating. Doors, every single one looked the same. She didn't know if one door was the other. She turned back and— did the lay out change?? The wallpaper was all so fancy and clean but headachingly repetative. The world was spinning. Her head had a pulse. Her heart was wriggling in her chest. It felt like someone reached inside her back and pulled her spine out.

She opened a door, 

And another

And another

And another.

Random generations, code and miscalculations, projects abandoned and left to dust, circus acts left to die. To die. To die. To die. She envied it. She envied the ability to die.

She got so dizzy. So frustrated, but there was nothing to break, nothing to focus on. she was on autopilot. With how she's been opening doors for the past few hours, she didn't even care to find an exit anymore. Simply open doors. Wander around. If you find an exit on the way, congratulations. But otherwise, there was nothing anymore.

One hallway had a mirror and all she could do was stare with broken eyes. What she saw, she couldn't care less about anymore…who was that she was looking at? Where was she? Who was she? How did she get here? What was her name again?

She kept staring and her eyes wandered to her hands. Amongst all the dissociation was a pit of anger in her throat. She looked at her finger. The ring. And all she saw was the very thing keeping her trapped there. The cruelest person— the cruelest thing, in the world.

Pomni started to pull at the ring.

She hated him. She hated him so much. She hated how much he toyed with her. She didn't understand how such fucked up things could even happen to a block of code, she didn't know what peice of shit of a person would ever create him. If god can be proven then the devil can be too. And he was living proof of that. The entire circus was proof of that.

Pomni grunted a tearful cry, desperately aching for the ring to come off, but it wouldn't budge. If there was pain, she couldn't feel it. She would bleed if it meant having to take it off. Pain was the last thing on her mind at that moment, just the desperate need for something, anything to go her way. Out of anything in this god forsaken realm, she wanted freedom from something, living breathing proof that there was hope in leaving, that she had a semblance of control in this hell.

“ God DAMN IT!!” The pain on her fingers were apparent, yet she hasn't processed any bit of it. “ I hate you! ” She sucked air to her teeth as tears formed in her eyes. She saw no use in keeping anything in anymore. 

Tears streamed down her face with no means of stopping. Pomni, with bruises and scratches on her ring finger, collapsed with her knees on the floor, bent down, letting her tears be absorbed by the carpet. Her whimpering, cries, tears she hadn't let out in ages. She soon let her forehead touch the floor, complete and utter loss of hope and motivation. 

And for a few moments she just sat there… adjusting by sitting on the floor, leaning her back on the wall, tears streamed empty emotions. Crying didn't help. Running didn't help. Screaming didn't help. And so she sat there. Like a puppet left to sit until their next performance.

That's all she was. And that's all she'll ever be.

Was she any different in the real world? She didn't care anymore.

Pomni let out her last hiccups. The floor wasn't comfortable at all…The doll stood up, body heavy. Her steps towards any door were heavy and unmotivated. The only sound echoing through the halls were the sound of her muffle heels, clacking above the carpet.

She could use some sleep. 

After a long day of organising and work, Caine reached into his coat for his pocket watch. It was about time where the performers would be off to bed, and he didn't need to tell them that. This is one of the rare times of the day where he leaves them to their own. He, however, doesn't need sleep. Caine AI knows no tire. He turned his heel, ready to do more work before remembering— ah. His wife. That part of the daily routine. 

See, for the past few days he's been having the formula to wake Pomni up in the morning, and putting her to bed at night, leaving seconds after. Always with his “goodnight, dear” and “good morning, dear”s that one. That's right. He was officially given the trait husband, and-- he's heard that that's what husband's do. And so he Incorporated it in his system.

Of course, even after their wedding night he never put in the effort to even think about laying in the same bed with her. First of all, he has no use for sleep. Second of all, that would be a complete waste of time and resources—He can do work simply standing up and staring into oblivion, but there is only so much he can do. Third of all, it was terribly boring. Fourth of all, he can touch Pomni but laying in the same bed for a prolonged period of time-- no amount of snaps would rid him of all her filth. And fifth—

The list can go on and on, and yet… something ached him to his core. It's been bothering him since the wedding night actually. The very act of not spending the night with her as husband and wife, that skipped a step in the process. And that bothered him more than any boundary he has up. It was part of a system, and he didn't officialize it because he wasn't feeling it that day? Caine AI, were you coded in a barn? Frankly, he was disappointed in himself for letting his ego— perfectionism get the better of him. Was he even truly husband without that final step? He felt like a fraud.

That whole thought process took place in the matter of .0001 seconds. And he was off. 

He teleported to The Manor on his way to atleast clean up the bedroom first. But just when he made his way up the stairs, he turned, noticing the clearly dishevelled and previously distressed looking Pomni coming out of one of the hallways.

He squinted and scanned her. 

Dirty clothes, eye bags, wet and sore eyes, sniffling, head low… 

Oh. She had been crying. 

He rolled his eyes. As long as she wasn't doing it on stage he didn't care. And frankly he didn't want to deal with it.

He cleared his throat to let her know that he was present, in a way, also telling her to gather herself.

“ Oh…” But Pomni didn't budge. She wasn't as disassociated as earlier but still had little energy to be scared at that moment. “ Hey, Caine. I’ll get upstairs soon, I just need a minute to—”

He didn't have time for this. 

Snap!

The usual routine continued. He teleported her to their room, dumped her to bed and sent Pomni face down on the cushion. She doesn't think she would ever get used to that. She put her head up groggily, still too tired to even really complain, before crawling to her usual side of the bed, the right side. She let out a few sniffles of misery. But before she could tuck herself in, she realised that Caine hadn't greeted her goodnight. Or— hasn't even teleported away yet, actually…

She turned to Caine in the bedroom and would notice that he was looking at himself in the mirror. He was snapping his fingers, switching through different kinds of sleeping wear— what??

She squinted in confusion. Caine usually wouldn't stick around for any longer than a few seconds. 

“ Wh…what are you doing…” Pomni said, voice clearly still sore for all her time crying.

Caine finally found pajamas that fit him and fixed himself in the mirror. “ I'm spending my time here tonight.” 

“ …Why…?”

“ It doesn't concern you.” he turned to her, and floated his way to the bed, before noticing what she was wearing. She was still wearing her uniform! Is that what she was sleeping in the whole time? Honestly he hadn't cared, and he wouldn't care had it been for the fact that he was joining her tonight. He was in classy night wear while she wore her tutu. That simply isn't uniform.

A snap of a finger, and Pomni was wearing a nightgown that matched his shirt and pants. With bags under her eyes, she looked down. She didn't have the energy to comment on it as anything special. It was nice to be comfortable for once. But there was nothing more she can say about it.

“ There we go.” Caine said. “Goodnight, dear.”

“ …Goodnight.”

He put himself under the covers, but Pomni was still staring off. Someone who cared for Pomni would ask her how she was feeling, but they were not in the room at that moment.

Pomni wasn't feeling good. She was feeling terrible. If this was any other day, she would be terrified to be sleeping next to Caine. But the fact that she doesn't feel anything strong…

She didn't have a good day… entirely honestly, she was hoping to cry herself to sleep that night. It wouldn't be her first, and it wouldn't be her last. But with the devil beside her, he had no choice but keep herself together.

Her breath was shaken. But she laid down for sleep.

A few hours passed. It felt like the longest night the two would ever spend.

Pomni didn't know if it was her nerves or the room temperature, but she buried herself in her blanket. She could close her eyes all she wanted but no amount of pretend could distract her from all the voices in her head. She wasn't hallucinating, it wasn't anything. Rather the voices were more of doubt, insecurity, and fear. It would come often, but that night was especially loud. Terribly so.

Caine on the other hand was staring at the ceiling. Hands on his chest. He's been staring in silence for hours at this point —and he had the artificial patience to go on for longer—but he found this activity inconvenient. And even worse so when he could hear his wife sniffling right beside him.

Pomni finally started shaking under the covers. Hands shielding her head-- her knees were on to her chest with how curled up she was. It hurt to be quieter than she was already being. The voices got to her and all she could do was cry at that point.

Neither of the couple could get themselves to sleep.

Caine could only roll his eyes. While he stared at the ceiling, Pomni was faced to her side, away from him, curled up cold and unrested. For a moment she looked at the hands shielding her, and the representation of her entrapment looked back. With several bruises and scratches around it, her finger still dawned the very ring that put her there. 

The memory of Caine in the wedding ceremony played back-- the very moment he put the ring on her at the altar. That was the moment that sealed her fate. She wished she could take it back. The image felt like dying a hundred times over.

Caine wasn't stupid. Although he knew little understanding of the human condition his processors picked up on certain symptoms and body language. He would usually ignore them as they were a waste of energy, but he had nothing else to process other than the ceiling he'd been staring at for the past few hours.

He knew Pomni wasn't well. What for? He didn't care. All that he knew was that she was upset, and it wasn't worth his time. It wasn't anything that he hasn't already heard a hundred times from the other performers. She was going to cry again and again anyway. What was the use?

Her hiccups and sniffling were tiny compared to the rest of the room. And yet no one was willing to hear her, listen to her. Perhaps that was all she wanted. If she had someone to be there to trust-- maybe this would have been bearable. Maybe in a different timeline she would still have the strength to go on for just another day. But that wasn't realistic. Not in the digital realm. She could scream all she wanted and no one would bat an eye.

This wasn't the first time she cried tears this painful. And it certainly will not be the last.

[drtanner]

You know, I think I'm starting to understand why the sharing culture on this site is such dogshit now.

As I mentioned earlier in the week, I spent several solid hours going through my art and writing tags as far back as 2012 and manually deleting everything I found, including all of my own reblogs, because I don't expect my opt out from having my blogs' data scraped to be honoured, and seeing the difference in the way people interacted with my work back then and the way they interact with it now (or the way they don't interact with it at all, more specifically) was deeply and tragically enlightening.

tl;dr, despite having had a fraction of the followers back then that I have now, as well as being an objectively better artist and writer than I used to be 10+ years ago, my work travelled further and people engaged with it more, and they also sent me asks with drabble prompts and questions about my OCs all the time, whereas none of that happens at all anymore. This place was a lot more communal back in that pre-2016 era and generally a lot more rewarding and fun.

There's been plenty of posts going around over the last few years begging people to reblog because that's how this site works, but every one of those posts always winds up lousy with people saying they just click "Like" on things because they like them but not enough to put them on their own blog, or because they don't want to clutter their blog, or because tagging things is too much effort or whatever, and I'm noticing a pattern. There's something that all of these common responses have in common:

All of these people are wholly concerned with themselves and the way their blog looks, or what their blog is supposed to be for, or some other similarly entirely self-centred point of focus.

Listen. Other people have already tried to explain to you that that's not what this place is about or what this place is for or that you can make as many sideblogs as you want if you're trying to curate something specific, and they've had little success in emparting understanding to you, so I'm going to try a different approach.

Here are ten (10) benefits of reblogging that will make this site more fun and engaging for you, personally! ( b ._.)b

You get to keep the thing for yourself, but you also get to pass it along for other people to play with, too! Best of all worlds. How often do you get to keep a thing and share it?

Look in your Activity after you reblog something you enjoy to find other people who like the same things that you do! This is a terrific way to find new people to follow.

Sometimes you'll make a comment when you reblog something and later find that an awful lot of strangers are reblogging it from you directly for some reason. This is usually because someone else later down the line made a much stupider and worse comment and those strangers are now all clicking on your reblog so that they can reblog the post without that other person's stupider and worse comment on it. I like it a lot when this happens. You can get a lot of new followers this way, too!

Even if you don't have the time or spoons to play with jpegs like dolls yourself, your reblog can put the post in front of those folks who do. Playing with jpegs like dolls is half of what makes this site function; give it a bit of time, and the jpegs will cross your dash again with new additions. As it is with anything you love, set it free, and the love will come back to you one hundredfold. 💜

Look in your Activity after reblogging some art or writing to see people going nuts in the tags. You can also go nuts in the tags if you want; everyone loves seeing this when it happens, especially the artist or writer themselves.

Commenting with your reblog is like raising your hand to share your opinion with the whole room, whereas reblogging with your comment in the tags is more like whispering to the person next to you and keeping it between yourselves. Contrary to what you might have been told by others, both are perfectly fine and good and they each have their place. You can do both on the same reblog, even! Take part in the conversation!

If you're too shy to talk, reblogging without commentary is a lot like parallel play. You're all enjoying the same thing quietly together!

When you reblog things a lot, you'll start to see the same people popping up in your Activity feed all the time. These people are your friends whether you actually talk to them or not.

Stuck for something to say? Point out something you liked about the post! It can be something small! Acknowledging things that make you happy out loud is good for your mental health and also your soul.

Reblogging also invites other people who are doing all of these things to find and follow you!

There's so much to do on here beyond checking your dash and occasionally looking at the For You tab. You can discover all kinds of people and things by making a bit of an effort and having a poke around in your Activity feed and on the blogs of people who interact with the posts you're seeing and passing along! I promise you don't need an algorithm to do this for you; the action of exploring the landscape around you on this website is fun in its own right!

Get out there and see who your neighbours are. 💜

[lilacmingi]

CRUELLA DE VIL (DISNEY VILLAINS AU)

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works. NO SPAM-LIKING PLEASE

Pairing: Cruella!San x boutique owner!fem reader (ft business partner!Hongjoong)

Word count: 6,745

Note: Okay this one might be my fave out of the whole series!! So many people loved it on Wattpad and I personally am really proud of this one to this day!!

The new window display looked incredible. You had stayed after closing the previous night to put it up in hopes that it would attract some new customers. Not just that, but you wanted to show off the jacket you worked so hard to reform.

You went in to make a few minor adjustments before opening for the day. As you were straightening up the outfit on the mannequin, your coworker and business partner, Hongjoong, walked in adjusting his beret.

Today's ensemble consisted of a white t-shirt with safety pins all over it, thick, black suspenders clipped onto a pair of black pants with a partial red, plaid pleated skirt attached to it—he's always dressing in the most wonderfully unique outfits.

"Morning." You greeted, stepping out of the window display. "You're looking fashionable, as usual."

"Thank you." He grinned, doing a little spin so you could see a full 360 view of the outfit. "I'm experimenting with something different."

"You mean the skirt attached to the pants?"

"Yeah. I think it looks cool, don't you?"

"Yes! I love it. We might be able to sell something like that, hm?" You grinned, raising a brow.

"If the people want it, I'll be more than happy to make more." He said. "Oh, here's your coffee, by the way."

"Ah." You placed your hand on your chest. "You're a doll. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He nodded, heading to the back.

Seconds later, music started playing through the speakers in the store, your lips curling into a pleased smile.

You and Hongjoong shared a similar music taste and you'd both curated the perfect playlist for the store. It's a mix of alternative rock, indie, and a touch of classic rock and indie pop—which was fit for your motley boutique.

The two of you had been friends since college. You both majored in business and shared a love for reforming clothes. It wasn't long until you started making plans for a business. You made a deal to go in together, save the money, and start up your own boutique, and as of one year ago, you did. It was a brilliant idea that blossomed into what it is today.

Yours and Hongjoong's business is located

in one of the fashion capitals of the world—London. You both specialize in thrifting and reforming. The two of you check out local thrift shops and buy pieces to cut up and put back together to make something unique. You can't find clothes like yours and Hongjoong's anywhere else.

"So, I stopped at a couple secondhand shops on my way here. I hope you don't mind."

"Of course I don't. What did you find? Anything good?"

"Well, I found this scarf." He spoke, pulling the accessory from a shopping bag. "The print is unique. I thought maybe we could cut up uneven chunks of the fabric and sew them on a jacket or something."

"Ooh." You nodded, envisioning the piece. "I like that. What else?"

"These dainty little chains and these boots."

"Let me guess. Attach the chains to the boots to make them edgy?" You guessed.

"Yes! This is why we're business partners." He grinned. "I'm gonna go put this stuff in the back with the other pieces."

You hummed in acknowledgement and took a sip of coffee, the sweet taste coating your tastebuds, a slightly bitter aftertaste following.

"Please help get me through the day." You spoke to the beverage as you plopped down behind the register.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room, smoothing out his shirt.

"That window display looks nice."

"Thank you. I did stay late last night to get it set up." You grinned, proudly. "I hope it attracts some new customers."

"It will. It looks fantastic. No other storefronts look like ours." Hongjoong assured you, his eyes trailing off to the dog bed behind the counter, your pet Dalmatian curled up asleep inside.

"I didn't even know Valentino was here." He commented.

"Yeah. He's tired today. He's been sleeping ever since I got here."

"Hey. If that window display doesn't attract new customers, Valentino will."

"Yeah, he's a favorite among our usual customers."

"Speaking of customers." Hongjoong pointed towards the front entrance.

Someone was standing outside in front of the display window, you couldn't see them too well from where you were sitting, though.

"I'm gonna go work on those boots. Just call me if you need me."

"Sure." You nodded, watching Hongjoong disappear behind the beaded curtain separating the front of the store from the back.

You stayed sitting behind the register, assuming the person outside was just perusing and most likely wouldn't come inside.

Just then, the door to the boutique opened, catching your attention. You turned your head and watched as a man with unique half black and half white hair strode into the store. He wore pinstripe pants and a white dress shirt unbuttoned at the top, a tight corset cinched around his waist. On top of the entire ensemble was a cream-colored fur coat draped over his shoulders. His entire appearance practically screamed high fashion and you were left speechless as you stared at this incredibly well-dressed man.

"What's that in the display window?" He asked, pointing with his cane.

"A jacket."

"I know what it is. I'm not stupid. I want to know who made it."

"I did." You answered.

"It's wonderful."

"Thank you." You were surprised to hear this man's praise. "Would you like to see it up close?"

"What kind of question is that?"

You stepped onto the platform in the display window and removed the jacket, bringing it to your new and eccentric customer.

He held it up, examining it, running his gloved fingers over the embellishments on it.

When you first got a hold of it, it was a measly little leather jacket with a couple holes in it, but now it looked like something completely new. You put a couple patches printed to look like newspapers on the jacket to cover the holes and added hundreds of studs and chains to it. To top it off, the word rebel was hand-painted on the back in sharp, white letters.

"I'll take it." The customer finally spoke.

"That's wonderful. Let me ring you up."

He followed you to the register where he paid for the jacket.

At this point, Valentino had gotten out of his bed and wandered around the counter.

"What a cute dog." He commented.

"Thank you. His name is Valentino."

"Like the fashion designer."

"The very same."

"Hm." The man gave a hum of what seemed like approval.

"You know, I just put that jacket out last night. You're the first one to show interest in it."

"What can I say? I have an eye for fashion." He grinned.

"I'd say you do. Your outfit is incredible."

"Oh, this?" He questioned as if it were nothing. "I just threw this together."

Your brows raised at his nonchalance.

"Well, darling, thank you for the jacket." He gave you a wink, retrieving the clothing from the counter. "Perhaps I'll see you around."

You blinked a few times as you watched him stride away, your cheeks feeling slightly warm at the nickname darling.

"Wait." You called out.

The man turned to glance over his shoulder.

"What's your name?"

"San. Don't wear it out, dear."

Just then, Hongjoong emerged from the back seeing San leave the store. The door closed and Hongjoong turned to look at you in your flustered state.

"Who was that?"

"San."

"San who?"

"I don't know, but he was beautiful."

Hongjoong let out a snort. "You're drooling."

You brought your hand up to your mouth, not feeling a thing.

"Am not."

"You were about to."

You rolled your eyes, choosing not to argue back.

A few days passed and all you could think about was the fashionable San. He was only in your store for about five minutes, but he made quite an impression on you, capturing your attention as soon as he stepped into your establishment.

A customer had just purchased a pair of pants with a partial skirt attached to it. Hongjoong only made one tester pair just to see if anyone would buy it.

"Looks like you need to make more of those pants." You commented.

"Looks like I do." Hongjoong smiled.

Your eyes widened as you saw San walking past the storefront, his eyes landing on the new display you set up.

"Oh my gosh." You stood from your seat behind the register.

"What?"

"There he is!" You whispered, pointing to the window.

"That San guy from a few days ago?" Hongjoong asked.

"Yes."

"He came back? That must mean he loved what he bought."

Your cheeks became warm thinking about San loving the jacket so much that he came back.

The door opened and in walked the highly fashionable man from the other day. Today he wore a black and white striped shirt with a long, black trench coat over the top. The pants he wore were the same color as his jacket and were cropped above his ankles, showing off his shiny dress shoes with pointed, metallic-capped tips.

"Hello." Hongjoong greeted as he approached San.

"Hello." San responded as he passed Hongjoong, walking straight to you. "Y/n, my dear."

He took your hand, giving a kiss to the back of it. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Yeah. It's a surprise to see you." You managed to say.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he let go of your hand. "You're surprised I came back?"

"Well, yes."

"I wanted to see what else you've got. Hopefully it's as good as that jacket."

"Ah, well, feel free to look around." You gestured to the endless racks of clothes. "We have plenty more items like that."

San turned towards all the clothes and began perusing the store.

You watched as he strode around, his fingers running over the fabric of the clothes hanging up. Every so often, he would pull a piece of clothing off the rack, examining the garment and rubbing the fabric between his fingers. If he found something he liked, he would take it off the rack and toss it over his arm.

"I must admit, I'm impressed." San spoke up.

"Thank you. I can't take all the credit, though. Hongjoong designs a lot of these pieces as well." You spoke up.

"You're both incredibly talented." San praised. "What about this?" He retrieved a pair of pants from the rack.

You remember the trousers well, Hongjoong designed them. He took two different pairs of pants and cut them in half, one black pair, the other red plaid. He sewed them together and clipped a wallet chain onto the belt loops.

"I made those." Hongjoong spoke up.

"Incredible." San murmured. "I'll take these. I have just the right top to pair with them."

Hongjoong offered to ring up the items San had collected while you made yourself busy rearranging a jewelry display.

Once San had paid for his items, he headed towards the door, briefly coming to a stop beside you.

"Keep doing what you're doing, love. There aren't many people who possess the talent you and your business partner have."

"Thank you." You told him.

"Don't mention it." He waved his hand dismissively as he headed towards the door. "Au revoir." (goodbye in French)

Again, you were left speechless and absolutely awestruck.

"He's amazing."

San continued to stop by the boutique over the next couple weeks, always looking for new finds and wanting to know the latest piece of clothing that had been reformed. He even showed interest in Hongjoong's pants with the half skirt attached to it and requested a custom pair of his own. He was practically a regular customer at this point.

Each time he popped into the store, he wore yet another incredible outfit that left you mind blown. He was the most fashionable person you had met—besides Hongjoong, of course.

"You know San?" You asked.

"The one you always ogle at?" Hongjoong asked.

"I do not—" He gave you a look, making you stop mid-sentence. "Yes. That one."

"What about him?"

"Do you think he lives around here?"

"I don't know. Why do you ask?"

"We should hire him."

"What?"

"His style is incredible. We could use someone like him on our staff."

"Hm." Hongjoong hummed. "It's not a bad idea."

The mail slot in the front door opens as today's newspaper falls to the floor. Your dog, Valentino got up to retrieve it, carrying it over to you.

"Ah, the paper. Thank you, Valentino." You thanked your Dalmatian, taking the newspaper from him.

You unrolled the paper, pausing when you saw a photo of a familiar-looking man printed on the front page.

Plastered on the front page of the newspaper was a photo of San, and he was wearing your jacket. The cover read: RENOWNED SOUTH KOREAN FASHION DESIGNER CHOI SAN AT LONDON'S FASHION WEEK.

Your jaw dropped in disbelief.

"Hongjoong?" You called out.

Your partner came hurrying over.

"What's wrong? What is it?"

"Look." You showed him the front page.

Hongjoong's eyes widened, his mouth hanging open.

"He's a fashion designer?" He exclaimed in disbelief.

"Apparently so. A renowned fashion designer too."

"I can't believe this. Do you know what that means?" Hongjoong asked.

"We had a popular fashion designer stop by our shop!"

"Exactly! Do you think he told his famous fashion designer friends about us?" He inquired excitedly.

"I don't know. Let's read the article."

South Korean fashion designer Choi San has graced London with his presence, traveling to the bustling city for London Fashion Week. He's been seen around the city wearing some eye-catching outfits that have people talking.

Choi San is known for his uniquely original and out-of-the-box designs. Fans and designers alike are all anticipating what he has in store.

"Wow." You gaped. "I'm speechless."

"Do you think those eye-catching outfits consisted of anything he bought from this store?" Inquired Hongjoong.

"I sure hope so."

You were dying for San to return to the boutique. You wanted so badly to talk to him about the new information you found out.

It was a couple days before he returned.

Those were the longest two days of your life.

One overcast day, he came striding into the boutique, graceful and elegant as ever.

"Hello." He greeted before perusing the items, acting as if he wasn't hiding a huge secret.

"You're a renowned fashion designer?!" You shrieked.

"Of course, doll." He responded, casually as his fingertips trailed over a pair of handmade earrings on display.

"And you didn't say anything?"

"You didn't know?" He asked, raising a brow.

"No. I saw you in the paper the other day."

"Well, I don't fault you for that. I'm fairly new in the fashion scene. A virtuoso, they call me. Can you believe that?" He chuckled. "It's rather flattering."

"I can't believe a famous fashion designer has been visiting our little boutique. I had no idea."

"Don't let it get to you, dear." He chuckled. "My status shouldn't change the relationship between us."

"R-relationship?" You blushed.

"Yes?" He said it like a question. "We're friends, are we not?"

"Yes! Friends. Of course. Yeah." You chuckled nervously.

That was awkward.

Hongjoong emerged from the back room with a newly reformed piece of clothing, a measuring tape draped around his neck.

"Ah! Just the man I wanted to see." He smiled. "What do you think?"

Hongjoong held up a black coat that had been completely redone. It was embellished with silver swirls and had epaulettes added onto the shoulders.

"Wow." San gaped. "I love everything about it. How much?"

Hongjoong gave him the price he was considering for the garment and San immediately bought it.

"I'll probably stop by within the next few days." He told the both of you.

"That's fine. You're welcome any time. Even if we're closed." Hongjoong smiled.

"Good to know." San tossed his shopping bag over his shoulder. "Until next time." He waved, striding out of the shop.

San returned to your store just a few days later, a large bag tossed over his shoulder.

He strode into the boutique, dropping the sack onto the floor. You furrowed your brows at him.

"Well, don't just stand there. Have a look." He gestured.

You opened the bag and began digging through it, gasping as you pulled out multiple pieces of designer clothes.

"What are you doing? This is thousands of dollars worth of your clothing."

"Right. I want you to tear it up."

"I'm sorry?"

"What you do here. Thrifting clothes. Tearing them apart and putting them back together. I'm having a show, that's why I'm here in London. I'd like to do a small showcase during my show."

"So you're talking about a collaboration? Your clothes, our style?" You questioned.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about, love."

"We would love to."

"I'd like to watch you work if you don't mind. I can assist you, of course. I would just need a station with a sewing machine."

"Don't worry. We have an extra in the back." Hongjoong chimed in. "We can definitely work something out."

"Fabulous." San grinned. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

Later that evening when the store closed, the three of you gathered in the back room where all of the sorting and reassembling took place. You and Hongjoong would examine each piece San brought in, making plans and sketches, discussing how you would upcycle it. With each piece came a story from San about how he came up with the idea for the garment. You enjoyed hearing him talk about his thought process, hanging on to every word. You took it as an opportunity to learn a bit from the fashion genius.

After examining each piece of clothing, the three of you got to work. You and Hongjoong would cut up clothes while San laid them out on a table and pieced them together, following the sketches the two of you provided. Naturally, you and your business partner had music playing to help keep everyone motivated. Though, sometimes you'd get distracted, prancing around the room and dancing.

Unbeknownst to you, San was watching and admiring you as you goofed off. To see you so carefree while doing what you love made his heart swell.

A couple hours passed and the three of you had gotten a considerable amount of work done. You cut up about half of the clothes San brought to you and laid them out with pieces of other garments of San's that you'd planned to turn into one piece.

Once you had a few pieces laid out, you and San began to sew them together while Hongjoong continued to disassemble any remaining garments in the bag.

At some point, Hongjoong let out a huff, stretching his back.

"I could use something to eat. Is anyone else hungry?"

"Starving." You responded.

Hongjoong glanced at his watch.

"It's only 7:00 PM. I can go and pick something up."

"Sounds good. San and I can stay here and keep working."

"Perfect. What's everyone in the mood for?"

You and San shared a look before you spoke up.

"Pizza?"

You then looked to San for approval, worried that he would turn the idea down and suggest some lavish meal.

"It's a classic. You can't go wrong with pizza." He responded.

"Great." Hongjoong clasped his hands together. "I'll be back soon."

Your partner left the room, the sound of the front entrance closing behind him following shortly after. You paid no mind to it as you worked, sewing the lower half of a red plaid shirt onto the bottom of a cropped, leather jacket.

"So, Y/n, how long have you been into fashion?" San inquired.

"Since I was a kid. I'd get into my parents' closet and take their clothes." You chuckled. "I remember one time I took my dad's suit jacket and tied one of my mom's scarves around the waist. Then, I got a hold of her red heels and put them on. The outfit was horrendous and I was far too little for any of the clothes, but it was so much fun."

A soft smile made its way onto San's face as he pictured a tiny you prancing around in a large jacket and heels.

"I used to draw pictures of outfits too. Most of the drawings were of dresses. I'm talking pages upon pages."

"Did you ever create any of those drawings?"

"Goodness no." You chuckled. "When I got older and learned how to use a sewing machine, my taste had changed quite a bit."

San listened to you talk about how your love for fashion progressed as well as how you and Hongjoong met and started your business together.

"That's quite a story."

"Yeah, it is." You hummed. "Not everyone is lucky enough to have their plans work out like mine and Hongjoong's."

"I'd say you're both very lucky."

Valentino, who had been napping walked up to you, resting his head in your lap. You stopped what you were doing to give him a few soft pets accompanied by ear scratches. His tail wagged happily in response. When you stopped, he lifted his paw, placing it on the side of your thigh as a way to tell you to keep going.

"Alright." You chuckled. "But only for a little while. Mama's got work to do."

San watched you with adoration, his heart thumping heavily in his chest.

"How did you get Valentino?" He asked.

"I actually found him roaming the streets. I was headed here when I spotted him. I felt so bad. He was only a little guy at the time. I brought him into the store and gave him part of the sandwich I packed for lunch. Hongjoong was surprised to see me come in with a dog, but he didn't mind. I decided that day that I would keep him." You gave the Dalmatian a fond look as you stroked his ears. "While I was working, he wandered in the back room. I later found him sleeping on a Valentino shirt Hongjoong thrifted. That's how I decided to name him."

"He's lucky to have you." San smiled.

"I think I'm the lucky one."

It wasn't long before Hongjoong returned with a couple pizzas and some drinks. The three of you took a twenty minute break to eat and rest before getting back to work. When midnight rolled around, you decided to call it a night. The three of you agreeing to close up shop and head home, promising to pick up again the next day.

You continued to meet up for a week, working tirelessly on the clothes. San and Hongjoong stayed in the back room sewing while you worked the store. When you weren't running the boutique, you were in the back helping San, switching out with Hongjoong.

It took two weeks for every piece to be completed. Once finished, each item of clothing was placed on a hanger and put in a garment bag, provided by San, then put inside a van.

"Thank you so much, darling." San beamed, flashing a bright smile accompanied by the most charming dimples. "The two of you have done marvelous work."

"It was an honor." You told him.

"It really was. To work with someone like you has been such an awesome experience." Hongjoong agreed.

"It's been wonderful working with the both of you." San approached Hongjoong, giving him a brief cheek-to-cheek air kiss.

He then moved over, doing the same to you, except he actually kissed your cheeks.

"I'll see you around." He smirked, giving you a wink before hopping into the van and driving off.

You stood with your mouth open, your cheeks burning from San's sudden kisses.

"He just..." You trailed off, your hands cupping your burning cheeks.

Hongjoong stood off to the side, unable to hold back giggles as he watched you in your flustered state, having witnessed the exchange.

"Y/n! The paper's here!" Hongjoong called. "And San is on the cover again!"

You rushed out of the back room, excitedly.

"Let's see what it says."

Hongjoong laid the paper out on the counter so the both of you could read it. The front page was plastered with photos of San wearing clothes that he bought from the boutique. Your eyes traveled from the photos to the article as you began to read it.

Choi San is set to have a fashion show this weekend where he will showcase his most recent designs. The fashion genius has been spotted walking the streets of London wearing an incredible ensemble from his new fashion line. Critics have been raving over the pieces he's been seen wearing around the city. When asked for any clues about his upcoming line, this was his response.

"Well, I can't reveal much about my designs, but the theme for the show will be 'The Next Generation of Fashion'. So stay tuned, darlings." The designer said.

"What?" You frowned. "His designs?"

"That can't be right." Hongjoong murmured.

His eyes scanned over the article, a frown on his face.

"He didn't say that, did he?"

"It says it right there, plain as day." You pointed. "I can't reveal much about my designs. Not only that, but it says he's been wearing his designs around the city. The clothes he's wearing in the photos is our stuff from the shop."

Hongjoong shook his head in response, unable to believe that San would do that.

"I have to talk with him." You murmured.

"It looks like you'll get your chance."

The door swung open and in walked Choi San, happy as ever.

"Hello, loves." He greeted, striding towards the register.

Hongjoong, who knew what was going to happen, quickly made himself scarce.

Your jaw clenched as he approached you with an arrogant grin that you wanted so badly to slap off his face. You snatched up the newspaper and slammed it onto the counter.

"Care to explain?"

The designer's brows furrowed as he looked down at the front page. "I don't understand."

"The article, San. You totally took credit for mine and Hongjoong's work."

"No, I didn't."

"It says so right here." You pointed.

He leaned down to get a better look at the paper.

"I can't believe I thought you wanted to work with me." You scoffed, shaking your head. "Just go."

San merely turned around and left the boutique without another word.

A huff left you as you spun around, storming into the back room.

"What happened?" Hongjoong inquired.

"I told him to leave."

"He didn't say anything?"

"No."

Valentino trotted in a few moments later with an envelope in his mouth.

"What's that?" Asked Hongjoong.

"I don't know. He already got the mail."

You took the lavish, cream-colored envelope from him, opening it up.

Inside was a card with two tickets to the fashion show. The card had a short note written in neat handwriting:

You've worked hard. Enjoy the show.

- San

"It's tickets to San's fashion show." You scoffed.

"He sent us tickets?" Hongjoong rushed over, peering over your shoulder.

"I guess that's what he came here to do." You assumed.

"Y/n, you need to go." He told you.

"What? No. There's no way. Not after what he did to us."

"I know you're upset that he used us, but I want to go to the show, you should too. The least we can do is show up and see our designs on the runway."

To your disappointment, he had a point. It would be nice to be able to see the clothes you and Hongjoong worked so hard to create.

You walked into the event, loud music blaring throughout the large room. You felt like your whole body was trembling. You didn't want to be there.

"You look great." Hongjoong assured you.

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"It'll be fine, Y/n. Despite what he did, I think he wanted us to be here."

"I can't understand why."

The two of you made your way to a row of seats. Hongjoong stopped suddenly, nudging you.

"Look." He pointed to the first row of seats, each one with a card on them. There were two chairs beside each other, one had a card with Hongjoong's name on it, the other with yours. You were a bit surprised to see that you had reserved seats, especially after what happened just a few days prior.

"C'mon." Hongjoong beckoned you over to your chairs.

After sitting down, you held the name card in your hand, flipping it back and forth. On the cardstock was your name printed in beautiful gold letters, a decorative box framing the print.

The show began shortly after, rock music playing through the speakers in the building as the lights started to dim. A silence settled over the room as everyone focused on the bright catwalk. A voice came over the speakers, kicking off the show.

"Welcome to the next generation of fashion."

Models began striding down the runway, each one donning an outfit you had never seen. You knew immediately that these were San's designs. Though you want very happy with him at the moment you had to admit, his designs were impeccable—they were nothing like you'd ever seen before. It was hard not to be impressed by his incredible work. He truly was a virtuoso.

Halfway through the show, that same voice came over the speakers once again.

"And now, for a special showcase."

Your eyes widened in awe as you watched the models strut down the catwalk wearing designs that you and Hongjoong created. It was like a dream come true. You just wished the circumstances were better. Though your situation wasn't the greatest, you didn't let that put a damper on your excitement.

The both of you watched with awestruck expressions as the models sashayed down the runway, showing off the upcycled pieces of San's previous fashion lines. The models looked incredible, as did their hair and makeup. Every single one had a different look and managed to match the vibe of each ensemble.

"Wow." You gaped.

"Yeah." Hongjoong nodded, his wide eyes staring unblinking at the models.

The last few models made their way off stage, signaling the end of the showcase. You knew what would happen next.

Your chest tightened when San walked up on stage. The crowd clapped and cheered as he made his way to the front of the catwalk.

His black and white hair was pushed away from his face in a messy, yet tidy way that perfectly suited him. His ensemble consisted of a white dress shirt that was unbuttoned halfway, showing off a silver body chain. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black, high-waisted trousers with two rows of buttons on the front and a chain dangling from the waist. He had on a large, spotted fur coat that resembled a Dalmatian, and bold, red gloves with many silver rings on top. The coat was long and swayed behind him as he stepped forward.

"Good evening, everyone." He greeted, scanning the crowd.

You unconsciously pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, afraid of being noticed.

"I hope you all enjoyed the show. First of all, I want to thank every single one of you for coming tonight. I appreciate your support dearly."

The crowd clapped in response.

"The showcase you all just watched was extra special. You might have noticed some familiar elements in each outfit, those elements being my old designs. Each one has gotten a new life, being turned into something different." He explained.

There were a few oohs from the crowd.

"I can't take all the credit for the end result you all saw moments ago. Yes, these may be my clothes, but they were truly brought to life by the amazing people who run a small boutique in town and I have to give all the credit to them. I was only a small part of this." He admitted. "Contrary to what the papers have been saying, all the fashion I've been wearing during my time here has been created by them. The pieces I wore were purchased at their boutique, it was not me giving anyone a sneak peek at what would be showcased tonight. You should all know, I hate giving spoilers."

Your lips pressed together as you felt shame and embarrassment flood your entire body.

"Now, I would like to introduce you all to the two incredibly talented fashionistas who re-created the stunning looks you just saw. Hongjoong and Y/n, will you come up here?" San turned right towards the both of you, your cheeks being set aflame.

Hongjoong nudged you as he stood up, heading onto the catwalk with you nervously following behind.

"Everyone please give these two a rousing applause!"

The whole room erupted in claps and cheers for you and Hongjoong. You were overwhelmed. You got to see your designs displayed on the runway and you were receiving a literal standing ovation from a room full of fashion designers and other luminaries. To top it all off, San was being genuine the entire time. Of course, you totally made a fool out of yourself and snapped at him without bothering to hear him out, and for that you needed to apologize.

San thanked everyone and gave a shoutout to yours and Hongjoong's boutique before closing out the show.

"There's going to be an after party in the next room, so please feel free to stay and hang out."

And with that, the show was over and the after party began. Everyone started getting up from their seats, making their way to the next room as you, San, and Hongjoong exited the catwalk, going backstage.

"Thank you, San. The showcase was incredible." Hongjoong told him.

"I should be thanking you. Tonight was a success and that's because of you two."

You smiled a little, guilt weighing on your heart.

"Well, I believe you two need some time alone, so I'm going to the after party. I'll see you later." Hongjoong quickly excused himself, allowing you and San some privacy.

"San, I'm so terribly sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I was really hateful to you that day." You apologized immediately.

"It's alright." He shook his head with a soft smile. "Don't worry yourself."

"I didn't know the tabloids messed up"

"Well, they did. I read the paper when I got home that day and found that they misquoted me. I never said my designs. I said the designs. They also jumped to conclusions big time and assumed the pieces from your store were my designs. I'd say I can't believe they did that, but honestly, that's how they are." He rolled his eyes. "Magazines, newspapers, websites. They're practically known for mincing people's words. How embarrassing."

"My apology still stands. I should have let you explain."

"I told you not to worry." San brought a gloved finger up under your chin, lifting your face to look at him. "You don't have to apologize."

"Alright." You sighed.

He dropped his hand, giving you a warm smile.

"So, what did you think about the show? Honestly."

"It was incredible. I was blown away by your designs and the ones Hongjoong and I worked on looked great too. It was honestly a dream come true. And that was nice of you to give our shop a shoutout at the end."

"You both deserve it." He smiled softly.

"Your outfit tonight is incredible. I especially love the coat."

"Thank you, doll. It's a tribute."

"A tribute?"

"To you. It reminded me of your dear Valentino so I wanted to wear it tonight."

You didn't hold back the flattered grin that spread across your features.

He did that for you?

"Now, let's talk about this ensemble you have on. You look absolutely divine." He told you.

Your eyes widened. "You think so?"

"I know so. Let me have a look at this." He glanced at your outfit, stepping back and allowing you to show him the full look.

You chose a flattering, yet chic ensemble; a bit edgy like what you and Hongjoong reform, but classy enough for a fashion show.

"Oh my." San gasped. "My dear Y/n, you are absolutely stunning."

You tried to stay cool, but San's compliments were getting to you, making your whole body feel like it was going to collapse.

"Love, can I tell you something?" He suddenly asked, his hand reaching for yours.

You allowed him to take it as he pulled you closer.

"Yes. Of course."

"You've captivated me, my dear Y/n. I treasure that night we shared in the back room of your shop. I enjoyed learning more about you and your love for fashion."

That brought a smile to your face.

"I enjoyed that night too, and every night after that when we worked on clothes."

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual." He smiled, his thumb running over the top of your hand.

You could tell there was something he wasn't saying or something he wanted to say, rather.

"We made a great team. Perhaps we should make this duo permanent."

"What are you trying to say?" You inquired.

"I'm saying, I want you to be my girlfriend."

You tried to hold back your smile as you looked at him.

"What if I don't feel the same?" You asked.

"Darling, I know when people are staring at me."

"What?"

"I saw you gawking at me all those times I came into your boutique."

"Oh." You became flustered. "So you noticed."

"Don't be embarrassed, darling. I quite liked it. Attention from the public is nice, but attention from you is even better."

You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, your heart racing.

"So, what do you say? You want to make this official?"

"Yes, please."

San was unable to contain himself as a glowing grin spread across his face, his dimples making an appearance. His hand let go of yours, moving to rest against your waist, tugging your body closer. You knew what he was getting around to and you were more than okay with it. His gloved hand cupped your cheek as his sharp, half-lidded eyes darkened slightly, his face inching closer to yours.

"Just kiss me already." You urged, desperate to feel his lips.

"What's the magic word?" He whispered.

Unable to wait any longer, you grabbed the body chain that hung over his chest, using it to pull him to you, your lips crashing against his. The unexpected action caught San off guard, but he didn't mind. In fact, he thought that was very attractive.

His hand immediately moved from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer so he could deepen the kiss.

"A girl who knows what she wants. I like that." He smirked against your mouth before capturing your lips fully with his own. You clung to him desperately, your hands clenching the fabric of his shirt as your head tilted slightly, wanting to feel closer to San.

A hum of satisfaction from San vibrated against your lips, sending a rush of butterflies through your stomach. His hand that was resting on your waist made its way to the small of your back, holding you firmly against him.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away in need of air. San stared down at you with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, his eyes droopy. His hair had become slightly out of place, a few extra strands hanging over his forehead. You casually brought your hand up to his uniquely-colored hair, gently running your hand over it, careful not to mess it up.

"I've always been fascinated with your hair." You admitted.

"Really?"

You hummed with a nod.

"I used to color it when I was a kid. I felt that I stood out too much."

"You know, sometimes standing out is a good thing."

He smiled, cupping your cheek. "That's exactly right, my dear."

The designer placed one last kiss to your lips before escorting you back out to the main room.

"Now, what do you say we go to that after party?"

"Sounds good." You nodded.

Hongjoong: Hades ⟡ Seonghwa: Maleficent ⟡ Yunho: Captain Hook ⟡ Yeosang: Evil Queen ⟡ Mingi: Dr. Facilier ⟡ Wooyoung: Hyena ⟡ Jongho: Gaston

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny @iammeandmeisiam @delulu18

[hyunjilicious]

[bang chan x reader] // [minho x reader]

Summary: this started out as a "how would bf!skz react to you saying 'it hurts' (or any variation of) during sex" but I got carried away and it turned into just plotless filth.. + writing this for more than 2 members in one night felt like cheating lol (SMUT) ~1k each

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (m receiving)... face fucking basically, slapping, spanking, name calling (whore, slut..) + plus lowkey degradation, cum play/swallowing, tying ppl up (??? idk how else to say it sksksk), lowkey mean!Chan but like consensually lowkey mean!Chan, pain in the ass!Minho... I think this is everything? I don't know. Please let me know if I missed anything!! Also 18+ PLS!!! DNI OTHERWISE!!!!

Chan: 

I'm sorry, but you two already have a safe word so whatever you say besides that, is only going to be used against you. 

He'd have you pinned down into the mattress with only a pillow under your hips as he fucks himself relentlessly into you. Beads of sweat are rolling off his temples, the bed is shaking, the neighbors can definitely hear everything but still, he shows no signs of slowing down. His thighs are burning and he's almost out of breath, but with every thrust, he goes harder, deeper inside of you and very few things could make him stop at this point.

You don't even know anymore what it is - pain or pleasure, but taking into consideration your trembling legs and the way your cunt greedily swallows him whole every time he forces his cock inside, all you know is that you love it. Still, you're numb and overly stimulated at the same time, making that burning feeling between your legs, no matter how good, a little bit too much.

So you squint your eyes and hide your face down against the bed, scrunching the sheets into your fists as your moans turn into a cry. "Fuck-" you pant, "Fuck, it hurts, ah-"

Chan's thrusts slow down, but he's going just as hard and deep as he leans down to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you up with your back against his chest. "What was that?" he asks directly against your ear, "It hurts?"

Your back arches against him as you cry. "Yes.."

"Good" he breathes against your skin before pushing you back down against the mattress. "It's supposed to" 

This time, he lowers himself too so that you're now trapped between him and the bed, with no way to escape, and he thrives on knowing just how much you love that.

"Chan baby, please" you cry, your cheek pressed into the pillow as you have your head turned to the side.

His panting right above you, his face inches away from yours as his rugged and hot breath fans the side of your neck. "What is it, hm? Tell me, baby girl" he grins. 

"Please…"

"Please what?" he rasps as one of his arms snakes around your body to reach your clit. "Talk to me" he adds, placing a kiss on your shoulder before sinking his teeth into your skin.

Your eyes shut with an overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure, but you manage to take a deep breath and open your mouth, however not much comes out. "Baby…" you cry.

"What is it, angel?" he chuckles, "Did I fuck you dumb already? Can't even form a sentence for me, my baby?"

You'd say something, the words are there, inside your head, but they're messy, flying around and neither of them agrees to go past your lips. So you just nod. Pathetically.

"My dumb, little girl" he coos while thrusting into you. "So drunk for my cock, aren't you? But you like it like that, just laying there while I have my way with you? Tell me"

Again, all you can do is nod. 

"Good, baby" he says and pushes the hair away from the back of your neck so he can kiss you, right before pushing himself back up again. "Make me cum, doll, come on" 

Not that you could answer, let alone actually move a muscle, but Chan doesn't care. He digs his fingers into your hips and guides your entire body up and down on his cock, all your weight as if nothing in his arms. He'll feel the burn tomorrow because right now, he can't stop for the world. 

Once he resumes his pace, hitting all the right spots at just the right angle, you barely manage to give him a warning before your legs start to shake. "God, I'm so close, so-" you pant, "Fuck"

"Cum for me" he urges you, "make a mess on my cock, princess, come on"

So intoxicated for him, from the way he held you to the literal feeling of every vein of his cock against your walls, your orgasm comes crashing down on you in waves. And yet, somehow, it wakes you up a bit.

"Chan" you extend an arm back towards him, "Stop, stop, stop, please!" Normally, those words wouldn't deter him, but your voice sounds serious enough for him to quirk an eyebrow. "Stop, please"

"What's-"

"Pull out please, I want you to cum in my mouth"

As if he wasn't close enough anyway, he had to take a moment to contain himself. His movements halt, for just a second, before he slowly and painfully pulls out. "Fuck, I thought something happened, but you're just a fucking slut for me"

You proudly nod and then feel yourself get yanked to the side, falling back onto your back, as Chan settles with his knees on either side of your head.

He's pumping himself into his hand, and you take that as the biggest insult in the world - when your perfectly good mouth is just inches away? Without hesitation, you swat his hands away and push yourself up just enough to wrap your lips around his head. 

A hiss of relief breaks from his throat before he fists your roots into his own hand. He's guiding your movements, fast and shallow, until he looks down to meet your eyes and knows he can push further. Next thing you know, he's leaning forward, prompting his weight on his free hand as his cock goes all the way down your throat, completely cutting off your air supply. 

Your arms are around his clenched thighs, your legs flailing around as you struggle against the tears in the back of your eyes, but it is very clear to the both of you who's going to win this competition. 

"Fucking made to take my cock down your throat, princess" he breathes, pulling out of your mouth and finishing himself off with his hand.

In a second, his cum lands on your tongue, your eyes on his' the entire time. He's all red, his hair is a mess - wet and curly, he can barely breathe and all the air in his lungs comes only in the form of the sweetest, most perfect moans. 

"Fuck, fuck-" he cries again as the last drops leak out of his tip. 

When he looks down, you're already swallowing his cum, and gathering with your fingers the mess he made on your cheeks, on your chin and on your neck. 

"Jesus-" Chan breathes out as he falls down next to you. With the last ounces of energy left in his body, he pulls you against him, his lips instantly finding yours. 

Earlier, you could taste yourself on his cock. Now, he can taste himself on your lips. And neither of you wants to stop. 

Minho:

This man is kinky. He knows everything and owns every sex toy. Every other week he comes up with new things to try, he's extremely careful, incredibly good with communication and always knows what he's doing. Despite all of this, pain is never the focus. He doesn't get off on pain, it doesn't matter that it's a completely safe and controlled environment, pain - in whatever shape or form, has no place during sex. He'd much rather over-stimulate you, not let you cum, hear you cry and beg for him, and every time you do something that could potentially hurt, like slapping or pulling your hair, he knows your limit very well and never crosses it. HOWEVER. However, everything adjacent to actual sex, is a whole different story. He'll take advantage of your low pain threshold and just use it in his favor. 

One day, he's on top of you, working his expert knots around your wrists as he ties your arms to the bedpost. "Ouch-" you flinch, "That hurts a bit"

"What?" he looks down at you, faux worry on his features. He knows very well what you're doing. "Is it too tight, doll?"

You just nod.

"I'm sorry" he grins and pulls on the rope, harshly securing your hands into place. "Nothing I can do about that"

Or. He's sitting at the edge of the bed, with you sprawled across his lap. He's still fully clothed while you're completely naked, ass already red and covered in his hand prints. 

"God, Minho, it hurts!" you whine, turning around to grab his hand and stop him from continuing.

"Well, it hurt me too" he swats your hand away and leans down on his elbow to be at the same level with you. "How do you think I felt when you came from that vibrator only? My dick wasn't even out of my pants yet. It hurt me, doll"

"You put the vibrator there!" you try to counter but he settles back into his spot and shuts you up with another rough slap against your already sore buttcheek. "Fuck!" you cry out in defeat, little giggles escaping your lips before you manage to hide your face into the sheets.

"You promised you wouldn't cum. It's not my fault"

"I promised I'd try!"

"You're a strong woman, Y/n, you can do anything you set your mind to" he chuckles as he spanks you again, taking the time to enjoy your whimpers before continuing. "I think you just didn't try hard enough. Or maybe you did it on purpose"

"Oh, for fuck's sake" you cry, but the simple fact that you can't manage to hide your amusement makes your words mean absolutely nothing to him. So he goes again, slapping your ass and also sinking his fingers into your already traumatized flesh. "Fuck, Minho, it hurts so bad!"

"What? This?" he laughs and spanks you again.

At this point, you're kicking your feet and hiding your face into the nearest pillow, yet still wiggling your ass in his face, clearly letting him know you haven't had enough yet.

"It's ok, doll" he cooes, and rubs his hand up and down your back. "I don't want to do this, you're making me do it. You just need to apologize to me"

"I'm sorry…"

"Look at me while you're saying it, baby" he demands.

You turn around a bit, just so you can see his face, but while you're almost entirely successful in hiding your amusement, Minho doesn't even seem to be trying. He's all a smile, very clearly enjoying this a bit too much. "I'm sorry, Minho, can you please forgive me?" you pout.

He thinks about it for a second and then grins, "No"

You're about to comment, but he spanks you again, so all you can do is whimper and rub your thighs together. "Please, I'm begging you!"

"If you so badly want me to stop, why is your cunt so wet, hm?" he asks, trailing his fingers up and down your opening a few times before shoving his fingers inside you with absolutely no warning.

Moaning, and trying to grind your pussy back against his hand, you hide your face into your shoulder and mumble "From the vibrator"

You have no idea if he heard you or not, but you know damn well he'd never let that kind of sarcasm pass. 

"Y/n?" he calls, twisting his fingers inside of you and stretching your walls.

"Yes"

"Are you going to be whore for me and cum on my fingers, baby?"

"Can I?"

"Of course you can" he nods and picks up his pace, knowing very well how close you were to a second orgasm. "But I hope you know that I'm still going to fuck you afterwards, will you be able to take it?"

You try to whimper something, but all that comes out is just a little moan.

"You sure, doll?" he asks, pressing his thumb against your clit as he starts pumping his fingers into you harder and faster. "Three rounds? Isn't that too much for your little cunt?"

"Nuh-uh"

"Nuh-uh, what? Use your words, baby"

"No," you swallow, "It's not too much… please"

"Please? Please what?"

"Please fuck me, Minho"

"Well if you ask so nicely…"

[dyns33]

Family protection

I missed Alfie during Flufftober, I'm not going to lie, even if it was fun

Thomas Shelby was preoccupied.

No, if he was honest, Thomas was just as terrified and furious at that moment, hurt inside, ready to devastate everything in his path, like every time he was told that a member of his family had been targeted.

It had perhaps been a mistake on his part to believe that it was not necessary to monitor Y/N after her marriage. Solomons' men took care of that.

So, when John had called him in a panic, saying that there were rumors about the kidnapping, or even the murder of their sister, he had at first remained frozen at his desk.

Since Polly had brought her back, this little girl from another mother, also abandoned by their fucking so called father, he had loved her. Maybe even more than the others.

The child was adorable. Shy at first, then smiling, with a crystal-clear laugh, asking for cuddles from her brothers, playing with dolls with her sister, and always wanting to be with them.

Normally, boys didn't accept the presence of girls. Poor Ada knew something about that. But strangely, with Y/N, it was different. Neither he, nor John, nor Arthur, could refuse her anything.

She came with them in the streets, in the countryside, in the trees. There were some limits of course, but he had shown her how to climb, jump, run. How to defend herself, if one strange day they weren't there.

Thomas confided things to her and her only when they were alone. The times he slept in the fields, she came to join him. That was often what pushed him to come home, because he didn't want her to catch her death. She stayed there, glued to him without saying anything, respecting his silence like no other member of his family, and for that, he ended up talking to her.

It was a false secret, that Y/N was his favorite. A secret that didn't bother anyone, since she was everyone's favorite.

So Thomas Shelby was preoccupied, because it was said that something had happened to his little sister, without anyone being able to clearly say what.

"She was in a bookstore." Arthur mumbled. "She goes there several times a month, to get books and read to the kids. They like it, she has a beautiful voice. After the session, she often has tea upstairs with the old owner. Men came in, beat up the employees and customers, before going upstairs. Then there was a fire. We don't know anything else."

"And Mr. Solomons ?"

"Haven't managed to reach him. His little assistant says he's… busy."

You'd think the same guys had come to Camden Town to destroy the King's Bakery. Because everything was in a pathetic state, and it was the doing of one man, who shouted orders from his office when he wasn't breaking anything that came his way.

If Thomas was preoccupied, Alfie had lost his mind.

During an important meeting with the Irish, he had let Ollie handle the business, and since the men had to be watched, it was a new kid who answered the phone.

He learned only two hours after his return that a woman had called. Not just any woman, his wife. Who was worried, because there were men in front of the bookstore, whom she didn't know.

She was smart, his wife. His tender Y/N, well raised by the Shelbys. Even if she was normally safe, she remained wary, thinking of looking behind or through the window, knowing all of her husband's employees.

The incompetents who followed her that day had been found with their throats slit in an alley.

Even though his patient was at his limit, Thomas let Alfie finish his tantrum, noting that he had left only the phone and the record player intact, which was playing opera to try to calm him down.

Y/N had disappeared for four hours now. He wouldn't calm down.

"They would have called, huh ? To give their fucking instructions. Or maybe they're scared, they know that my men, the most competent this time, and yours, are all over town, and that as soon as we know who did this, they'll be dead. But… If they don't have her… Tommy, if they don't have her, if she's in that still smoking pile of ashes… I'll burn everything."

"Arthur and John are going to find her."

"Yeah, huh ? You can sense it with your gypsy powers ? Your witch aunt read the cards and saw that my Y/N was healthy ?"

"Not now, Alfie."

Solomons growled, turning his office chair in anger and slamming it against the floor until it was all crumbs. It was only because it was his wife's family that he was acceptinf Thomas' presence.

And for his part, even though he wanted to blow his head off for not protecting his sister properly, Tommy sat there smoking his cigarette, remembering how it had felt to hold Grace in his arms.

When the phone rang, he stared at it for a moment, before looking at Alfie, frozen in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. He wondered if he hadn't heard, before realizing that the wandering Jew was afraid to answer.

It might have been the famous ransom demand, which would teach them that a lot of harm had been done to Y/N, and much more would come if they didn't do what the kidnappers wanted.

It might also have been the coroner, who had finished putting names on the bodies following the fire.

Slowly, Thomas put down his cigarette, before answering.

"… Tommy ?"

"… Y/N ?"

"Give me that !" ordered Alfie who immediately came back to life, snatching the phone from him before finding a softer voice. "Treacle ? Love ? Are you okay ? Where are you ?"

It turned out that despite the lack of practice, taking young Y/N into the woods to teach her how to climb, jump, play tightrope walkers and hide, had been a good thing.

Realizing that something was happening and since her husband was not reachable, she had climbed through the upstairs window on the courtyard side, hoisting herself up onto the roof, until she found a secluded spot to climb down.

Then, not knowing who to trust, she had stayed hidden until nightfall, to go to the closest and safest place from her position, which was her sister's house.

"Faster, Ismael !"

Thomas could have muttered that it would be better to get to Ada's alive, but he only clung to the door handle while the driver obeyed Mr. Solomons without worrying about pedestrians or other cars.

It was also useless to stop Alfie from jumping onto the sidewalk, forgetting his cane in the car to go and bang on the door like a madman until someone opened it.

Calm only returned when he laid eyes on Y/N, settled in the living room and already surrounded by all the other Shelbys who had been called after them.

"Treacle. Forgive me." he sobbed as he threw himself at her knees, his arms around her and his head against her stomach. "I was so worried, love, I thought I was going to die."

"Oh, Alfie. I'm sorry, I wanted to call you before but I didn't have access to a phone."

"I'm the worst husband. I didn't protect you. If my men weren't dead, I'd slit their throats myself."

"Let's try to talk about something happier." Thomas coughed as he approached, placing a hand on his sister's shoulder who smiled at him. "Did you hurt yourself jumping off the roof ?"

"No, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"Strange clothes."

"Yes, love. You weren't wearing that this morning."

"Oh, I…" Y/N said, visibly embarrassed. "I may have "borrowed" a disguise. And money. And a car."

"She's our lil sis !" Arthur declared proudly, oblivious to the dark looks from his aunt, sister, brothers, and brother-in-law.

Maybe they had also shown young Y/N how to steal, but only once or twice, for fun, telling her that it was wrong, and that she would never need to do that because they would take care of her.

Alfie mumbled in Hebrew, which made her laugh. Probably insults without malice. He only let go of her to allow the others to kiss her before he took her back to their home, returning worse than a leech at the first opportunity.

When he proposed to add some of his men to Solomons' for her next outings, the king of Candem was at first outraged. He didn't bark only because his wife had already experienced a lot of emotions, but he would not let Thomas humiliate him.

However, in the middle of the night, certainly when Y/N was sleeping, Solomons contacted him.

"How many men, and what price ?"

"I'm the one who feels insulted now, Alfie. She's my sister, that will be the necessary number and for nothing at all."

"Hmm… You know, they all have something to say about you, your siblings. All of them, while you take care of them. I know it, I see it, but they are never happy. But not Y/N. No, my treacle has nothing but compliments for her big brothers, and you the first. Tommy this, Tommy that. She adores you."

"I adore her too."

"Hmm. Not as much as me, and so there will be fewer men than mine, but… I accept the offer."

"Glad we almost agree on something, Mr. Solomons."

He did not sleep that night, because Thomas Shelby was a preoccupied man by nature. By business, by his family, by the future and the past.

But as for his favorite little sister, he could have slept peacefully, knowing that her husband was there to ensure her happiness and protection as he had sworn during their marriage.

And if something were to happen, they would join forces, then Thomas would probably kill Alfie to punish him, if the madman didn't kill himself first to join Y/N whom he loved at least as much as her brother loved her.

[saintyveningstar]

Mama! Abby Headcannons !

No. 2

Mom! Abby Anderson head-cannons !

Abby is absolutely stern and/or strict. Not strict in the way that her kids aren't allowed to do anything but she's very adamant that her children show her the same amount of respect she gives them

Saying ma'am/sir is required in her household

When her kids act out she has no problem taking a traditional approach — bar of soap in the mouth, taking off her belt, spanking — but she will never go too far with punishments

She always makes sure that her kids know why they're in trouble and why they're getting punished

Abby does not tolerate disrespect or lies of any kind

The only person who's more strict than Abby is her father Jerry

Abby knows how to stop her kids in their tracks with just a look

Sometimes she won't yell and scream, but her kids see the poorly contained anger in her eyes behind her calm demeanor.

When she gets like this, she'll be eerily quiet — "Yeah?" she'll say, "Is that your final answer?" she'll shrug, cross her arms, and lean back, her kids will have unknowingly stepped into a trap. "Get up to your room, then." she'd say, and kiss her teeth. "I'll be up there to talk to you in a minute." — the only thing that'll be talking is that belt, though.

She loves to do her kids hair, especially in French braids

She loves to make tea/coffee for them

She loves to give her kids forehead/cheek kisses

Abby literally patches up their wounds if they get hurt playing or roughhousing, she'll kiss the scrapes and bruises.

Her kids call her Mommy

Her kids will dress up as her for career day, coming to school in blue scrubs, her stethoscope, her pens in the pocket, and her badge

She 100% curses in front of her kids and does not care, they just better not repeat it in front of her cause they know better

"But—" "But nothing!"

She does that gritted teeth mom thing

She finds out her kid did something bad because they told her themself — "You better be fucking joking, so help me, you better be."

She does that other mom thing where she's in the other room and calls for her kid but when they answer she wont respond and just wait for them to come — unless it's urgent:

"[Full Kid's name], get your ass down here! Now!"

"Do I need to take off my belt?"

"Don't lie to me."

"Do I need to call your father?"

"Did you brush your teeth before bed?" "Yes." — she'll just shoot a glare at them until they get it right, raising her eyebrow — "Yes, ma'am. Sorry!" "Yeah, thought so."

She has cute little petnames for her kid/kids — baby, sweetheart, doll, their first initial, dove, honey/hun, diva/sassy, bossy, bubba, love

She has asthma, so her kids have asthma too — she got it from Jerry

She will comfort her kid through their asthma attacks — "Deep breaths, baby. That's it, you got it."

"I know that's not a fucking hickey on your neck." — for teenagers

"Mommy, can you help me rearrange my room, please please please?" "Yeah, sure, hun." — she ends up doing all of the work.

If she has more than one kid, the oldest one is always trusted to look out for the others.

She'll pay for her kids to try any hobby they want, she has no issue with it

"You said you have a project due tomorrow?!" She's absolutely fucking livid, "And you only thought to tell me now?"

Everyone does their part with chores, including her

If she has a child who inherited her attitude she's able to humble them every time — "Don't dish it out if you can't take it, yeah?"

"Oh my god, you better clean up this fucking room."

She calls her kid up, "That room better be clean by the time I get back, or you're getting it. You hear me?"

"Do you understand me?"

"Look at me when I'm talking to you."

"Get all of that?"

"Think I'm playin' with you?"

She's very, very protective of her children

She will always hear her kids out, but ultimately she knows best

will always listen to their side of the story and take it into account, even if she's angry with them

Abby values honesty and integrity above all else

"You know you can tell me anything, absolutely anything, right?"

"Hey, can you make sure to take the meat out of the freezer? I'm planning to cook today." — but when she gets home, the meat is definitely still in the freezer.

She sets boundaries and expectations for her kids and expects them to be followed

"Go lay out your clothes for tomorrow."

"How was Owen's?"

When her kids bring friends around, she know's who's good and who's not. — "Yeah, I don't like that boy Kevin. Steer clear of him, maybe."

Abby can read her kids like the back of her own hand

"Baby, what's the matter?"

She does that nose bridge pinch

"Get your fuckin' act together, alright?" 

If her kid starts acting up in public, she'll give them that look and if they don't stop she'll grab their shoulder and pull them close. Abby would bend down, "Tread lightly, yeah?"

"You better straighten up, hun." she'd say, "Or you're in hot water."

"I'll tan your hide if you don't cut it out, now."

"Shape up, or ship out."

All of her kids look exactly like her with different coloring

"Is that the route you wanna take?"

"You have like, five seconds, to remove yourself from my line of sight before I reach out and grab you."

"Don't tempt fate, hun."

"Can you tell that you're pissing me off right now? Or no?"

(If you like Ellabs) They call Ellie Mama

She loves to read books to/with her kids

She carries her kids around on her back or to her chest with ease, no matter their age

"Watch your tone, Okay?"

"Watch yourself."

"Have you eaten today, love?"

"Who are you talking to?!"

she is an amazing mama

That's all I've got 

[short-honey-badger]

Haven't even seen the live action yet but Shanks has a hold of me. Enjoy some braintot! Also! I forgot to add that this was definitely inspired by @meeplaws post I found the other day! Saw it again and wanted to give them that credit!

Ps. I have more in store soon! Hope you like a good Ole fashioned Daddy kink!

Warnings!: Breeding Kink. Gaslighting. Shanks isn't very nice in this. Dark!Shanks. Possessive behavior still fluffy and plenty of smut.

Previously Wait No More

Masterlist

No One But You

Shanks rolled his eyes when you continued to ignore his welcoming call from his place at the bar. He'd found you once again on a small chain of islands outside of the Sabaody Archipelago after you had run away from his proposal to come with him and join his crew again on the last island he had made port at. But Shanks had found you, just like he always did.  

The Yonko smiles when he recalls how the two of you met. Shanks had saved you from some sleazy old man trying to buy you a drink on some island he had forgotten the name of some six years after losing his arm to save Luffy. Shanks couldn't put into words why you had caught his attention and held it. Maybe it was the way you dismissed him whenever he found you again. No one said no to Red Haired Shanks after all. No one but you.

You pretend that you haven't heard the redhead call your name and continue on your way back to the hotel that you'd rented for the night. However, you don't get very far before a familiar oppressive presence appears by your side. He wrapped his arm around your waist and swung into your field of view to give you a drunken grin, "Told you that I would find you, Sugar," he purred in greeting.

You sigh and attempt to shrug him off, but the Yonko just tugs you closer, "Don't know what you're talking about, Shanks," you quip. You are aware of how attractive this man is, but you also know that nothing between the two of you could ever end well. There was already a target on your back since he could never leave you alone.

Shanks scoffs and moves your hair away from your neck with his nose so that he can leave a trail of kisses along the sensitive flesh, "Don't play dumb, Mama," he murmurs and sucked an easy hickey on the side of your neck while his hand dropped down to squeeze your ass, "I know you're a lot smarter than that."

You wince at the harsh treatment and try to pull away again, but the pirate captain just tightens his grip on your hip and turns you so that you can see his face and the mean grin full of teeth and dark promises he saves just for you, "Not this time, Sugar. I'm not letting you go this time."

Panic floods your system, and this time you start to struggle against the Yonko, but it all is just a useless endeavor to fight someone as strong as Shanks. You are captured with nowhere else to run, and you can already see the freedom you have slipping away like grains of sand through your fingers. 

The Yonko scoffs again and then turns the two of you around to lead the way back to the Red Force and then inside the captain's cabin. He didn't want to be disturbed by anyone, nor could he have you trying to run away again.

Inside the cabin, Shanks takes your right hand and presses kisses to each of your knuckles and then does the same to your other hand. You are taken aback but his sweet behavior and wonder if you could have been wrong about the redhead, "I've wanted you for a long time, but you know that already, huh," Shanks says your name like a sin and a shiver runs up your spine at the breathy sound. 

The Yonko pushes you into his bed and admires the way you look all spayed out on his sheets. He climbs over you, lean frame settling on your hips and Shanks grins down at you, "Gosh, You're so beautiful, Doll," he murmurs and reaches forward to brush your hair away from your flushed face, "And now I don't have to wait anymore."

You cover your face with the crook of your elbow to hide your embarrassment. You don't want to watch anything of what happens next. Shanks laughs at you but shrugs. He was confident that you would like everything that he wanted to do to you. 

He shimmies down until he sits on the bed between your legs and then hooks his fingers under the hem of your shirt. It's tossed to the floor and Shanks admires your exposed tits, "No bra? You dirty girl, " Shanks teases and then pinches your erect nipple. Your leggings and underwear are next, the pirate ripping the fabric in his haste to get them off you. You lay bare under one of the most dangerous men in the Grand Line and shiver at the power that rolls off him in waves.   

You bite your lip to suppress any noise you might make. You refused to give Shanks any kind of satisfaction... which would prove to be your undoing.

With ease, Shanks flips the two of you and manhandles your legs so that they sit on either side of his face and then leans in to press kisses and bites to the inside of your thighs, "Ah, this is a much better view," he purrs and you stare down at him with wide eyes. He grins at your shocked expression and then proceeds to flatten his tongue and lick a stripe over your entire cunt. 

"Sh-Shanks!" You shout a bow forward, hands landing on the fluffy pillows that support his head.

"Yeah, Sugar?" Shanks asks innocently and cocks his head like he was confused why you had interrupted him, "Something the matter?" 

Before you can even think to answer, the stupid man dives right back in, tongue wiggling to stroke over each fold and crease with a hum of satisfaction. He ignores your clit for now, wanting you to wait for the best part just like you made him do for six years. You get wet fast, and Shanks realizes that he could spend eternity between your legs, pussy drunk for the rest of his life. 

"Gosh," Shanks breaths when he finally comes up for air, "You taste better than I could ever imagine, Mama," then he is right back down, groaning almost louder than you are as he focuses on how much you leak for him. 

Shanks eats you out like a man on a mission, sighs, and moans leaving him as he laps at your core, sucking and pulling at your lower lips to the point his entire lower face is drenched in your slick. You are overwhelmed by his attention, mouth open in a silent moan as you clutch at the pillows and his red hair for dear life. His hand tucks under his ass and lifts you with ease. Shanks fucks in and out of your hole with his tongue, lowering you and helping you spear yourself on his tongue. 

The Yonko doesn't stop until he can feel your thighs shaking around his face, and he slowly lowers you until you rest on his chest. His lips come away from your pussy with an obscene slurp then he is wrapping them around your clit. His tongue curls around the swollen nub and suckles gently and your hand clinches so hard in his hair he knows that you came away with some of his red hair.

Shanks suddenly pulls away with a lewd pop, resting his face on your thigh and staring up at you with a blissed-out expression. His dark eyes shine with his feelings for you, and you can't sort through the mass of emotions that swirl in his depths. You wouldn't call what the captain feels for your love, but you could see affection there, but the man just seemed satisfied, as if was truly happy to have finally gotten his way after so long. He grins and kisses your thigh, "You should see yourself, Babygirl," Shanks coos and then makes a show of licking his lips clean. 

"F-fuck you, Shanks," You hiss through your teeth and do your best to avoid his taunting gaze and satisfied gaze. 

Shanks laughs, "That's the plan, Doll," he says and then delves right back in to eat you out to his heart's content. He loves the taste of you on his tongue and the way your thighs keep clinching around his face. He doesn't stop until you are quivering above him, legs quaking and arms shaking from holding yourself up for so long. Your pussy aches from his nonstop attention, but Shanks still hasn't let you come. 

"Sh-Shanks, please," You whine softly, breaking the silence of the room. You bring yourself to look down at him and damn him if he doesn't have that innocent look plastered all over his face again. How can he look like that after spending god knows how long between your legs? 

"Yeah?" The pirate draws it out, tone all childlike as he grins up at you with delight shining in his dark eyes, "Please, what?"

You sigh through your know harshly and glare down at him. Any embarrassment you had previously disappears in your rising frustration, "Make me come!" You nearly shout at him. Your face burns and your chest heaves as you stare down at Shanks. 

"Can do, Mama," Shanks purrs and then he was flipping you again. Your hips are propped up by a mountain of pillows and Shanks settles back between your thighs. He balances on his knees and leans forward to suck your clit into his mouth, hand inching forward and two fingers stroke your soaked hole. A groan leaves his throat when he presses in, and Shanks marvels at how tight you are. 

He begins a steady rhythm and a mean laugh erupts from his chest when the Yonko glances at your face to see that you are watching the way his fingers disappear in and out of your cunt. His hand glistens with your cream and the room echos with lewd sounds that come straight from your pussy. The more Shanks watches, the more he begins to wonder. 

Shanks suddenly leans up and into your face, "How many other people have seen this pretty pussy?" He asks and you can hear the displeasure in his voice. You try and cover your face but you can't with how close Shanks is to you. You recognize the intimidation tactic, but it still works and you quickly stop. His hand has slowed to a stop and you look up to see him frowning down at you, "Be honest, or I'll stop."

You doubt he would ever stop now that he has you, but you know better than to not answer him, "Two others," you say so softly that Shanks almost misses what you say. Rage thrums in his chest at your admission. How could you? You knew how much Shanks wanted you, see how he chased after you whenever you ran away from him. He's protected you from some sleazeball more than once before they could even become a problem, and this is how you repay him? 

The Yonko breaths deep and then starts up the pace he'd had just a second ago, "What are their names? When did it happen?" He asks and keeps his voice casual even though he knows that his haki has slipped, making the cabin feel oppressive. 

"I ah-haa don't remember," You lie, and the second those words leave your lips, you realize your mistake. You should have never even thought of trying to lie to this man. 

Shanks rips his hand from your cunt and your jaw is being snatched, held tight between calloused fingers as he forces you to stare up at him, "Think real careful about lying to me again, Babygirl," He rumbles and his tone is dark and furious. You can feel the jealousy dripping off Shanks at just the thought of you sleeping with other men. Despite your feelings for the redhead, you can't help but feel a little flattered. Your face is squeezed and you are reminded that Shanks still wants an answer. 

"Edward was the first, two years after we met," You breathe when he relaxes his hand on your jaw. His fingers find your core again and he sits back far enough so that he can watch the way your pussy sucks his fingers right back in like they belonged there. He rewards your honesty with a particularly hard thrust of his hand and grins cruelly when you gasp sharply. He wants so badly to just sink his cock into your tight heat, but he needs to see this through. Needs to make sure you know who you belong to. 

Shanks nods once so you swallow thickly and continue, "Navine was eight months ago," your tone is thick and guilty and you wonder when Shanks had started to make you feel bad for him. Maybe it was the way he looked at you. Even now, as you spill your sex life to him, Shanks looks at you as if you had hung the moon and stars in the sky. But behind that, you can see hurt there, betrayal even, and it makes your chest tighten in unpleasant emotions.

"All those years," Shanks speaks and he is monotone at first, but anger and hurt begin to leak out and you tremble in the face of it, "You could have been sailing with Me, but instead you wanted to be out there, spreading your legs like some common whore."

Shock courses up your spine and tears spring to your eyes immediately. Never had the Yonko spoken a harsh word to you in all your time knowing him, but it still surprised you with how much it hurt. You are crying like a baby before you know it and you bite your lip and clinch your eyes as that would be enough to stop the hurt from consuming you. 

"I was good, ya know?" Shanks continues and his pace becomes rough. He couldn't let you just forget about this. He wanted you to feel the way he felt, "I didn't touch another woman the entire time, but you? Shanks lets out a dismissive laugh, "You couldn't keep your legs shut."

A sob breaks through whatever defense you had left and you reach for him, hands clutching at his back and shoulders as you whine and cry. He was right. How could you have not seen the way the Yonko cared for you? 

"I-I'm sorry, Shanks," You whine low and it sounds pitiful and like music to the Yonko's ears. He leans into your touch and soaks in the way you clutch at him. You feel awful for throwing his obviously real feelings in his face time after time. For sleeping with other men instead of Shanks, the one who had chased you all the way from the East Blue, "I'm yours, Shanks. I won't run again."

And just like that, the man you have always known is suddenly there. He lights up in childlike delight, smile beaming and he leans down to press the sweetest kiss you've ever reviewed to your lips. His fingers curl and brush against that sweet spot hidden deep within you, and you groan, mouth opening just enough for the Yonko to shove his tongue into your mouth. You kiss him back, sucking gently on his tongue as you grind down on his hand. 

Shanks breaks the kiss, though he doesn't go very far, "Oh, Sugar," he coos and kisses your tear-streaked face, "Say that again for me, won't you?" 

You nod easily, "Yours, Shanks. No one else's," You murmur and you don't see his victorious grin that lights up his face., "I'll join your crew." 

Fuck! That he had not expected, but like hell would he complain. He slips his hand out from between your legs then grabs your face and crashes his lips into yours with a low whine of his own. He shoves his tongue deep, sliding over your teeth and flexing against your own so much that saliva wells up and spills over, turning the kiss into a wet mess. 

He releases your jaw to grab his pants and shove them down far enough that his cock springs out. He shuffles forward and nudges the head against your soaked lips. Shanks takes his time, sliding his dick through your lips and making sure his length is coated in your slick. Once he deems himself slicked up enough, Shanks lines up and sinks himself balls deep in one harsh thrust. 

You yell his name, mouth dropping open as Shanks takes everything and more that you are willing to give him. He is loud, grunts and moans spilling out of his throat as he loses himself. You are perfect, so tight and warm around his cock that he never wanted to leave. Shanks ruts deeply, grabbing your leg to lift it over his hip so that he can sink impossibly deeper. Your cunt flutters around him and he slides his hand up over your leg and hip to your stomach where he begins to gently press down. The extra pressure has you throwing your head back in a sigh and Shanks grins meanly down at you. 

"Feel that, Mama?" He pants out and presses down harder so that he can really feel the way he moves inside you, "Better get used to it, 'cause I'll never have enough of this sweet pussy." 

His pace suddenly becomes brutal and you are reminded that Shanks had not had sex with another woman the entire time he'd chased you. You clinch around him at the thought and then pull him down so that you can press kisses to wherever you can reach. You had a lot to make up for, and you wanted to let him know that you were up to that challenge.

Shanks shifts again to get a better hold of your hip and he fucks into you with reckless abandon and you are so so close, you just need a little bit more, and then you would be there.

The Yonko must be able to sense your thoughts, for his hand finds your clit and his thumb begins a fast pace. You don't last long, especially with the way Shanks leans down and whispers, "That's it babygirl," he angles his hips and strikes that spot again and you see stars, "Come all over my cock." 

And come you do, with a cry of his name, you clench around his cock and gush around him, staining your thighs and the sheets below. Shanks ruts into you, chasing his own release with your warm body that still clings to him. He wraps his arm around your waist, holding you tightly as he finally comes with a whine of your name. 

Shanks pumps you full, the man so pent up from waiting that he has an obscene amount of his come leak out of your fucked out hole. You sigh at the feeling of it sliding down your thighs, but Shanks is shaking his head, "Uh-uh, Mama," He coos and your eyes widen when he pulls his cock out. He scoops up his spend and then proceeds to shove it back into your fluttering hole, "We can't be wasteful." 

He doesn't stop until he's stuffed as much of his cum back into your cunt as possible and then his fingers stay there, massaging your gummy walls until another orgasm rises up and shudders through your body, "Look at that, so proud of you, Sugar," He coos down at you and you don't know how to feel about the way his praise makes you feel giddy inside. 

A yawn breaks you out of thinking about your complicated feelings, and Shanks begins to move you off the mountain of pillows and into a more comfortable position. He shucks his clothes off and doesn't worry about cleaning up. He wraps his arm over your waist and snuggles up to your back, a grin on his face at getting to be the big spoon. He kisses the back of your neck, "Get some rest, Babygirl," he whispers and your tired body is already half asleep so you don't feel the way his cock hardens against your back, "We are far from done."