#for pets and fetch and a party

[lunasohma]

my dear friend, Miss Gracie

[i2sunric]

𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 (l.hs)

PAIRING: toxic!heeseung x reader

SUMMARY: after confronting your boyfriend with his neverending addictions, worried that he might just ruin himself, you two end up in yet another fight. it wasn’t new that the best way of resolving it was fucking you in his car, was it?

WARNINGS: toxic relationship. based on the newest single by chase atlantic ‘die for me’, fighting, alcohol consumption, mentions of weed and drugs in general (+ ecstasy tabs), unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!!), rough sex, degrading kink, car sex, doggystyle, he gives reader a finger in asshole (literally), spit kink (?), why is this slightly angst (if u squint ig), riding, creampie, pet names (angel, baby, good girl, slut), manhandling, meandom!heeseung, kinda cnc (but i’m not sure), humping, overstimulation, lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 25th August 2024

WC: 4.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emisloves @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike (oneshot) @dollyrst @mitmit01 @heeseungsbm @rayofsunshineeee @seungjiseyo @simja3 @sweetlyxaqq09 @cloud-lyy BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

NOW PLAYING: ‘DIE FOR ME’ by Chase Atlantic — ‘on your knees’ by ex habit — ‘Sinners’ by Ari Abdul ft. Thomas Larosa

a/n: please REBLOG & COMMENT and not only like since i’ve been shadowbanned nowadays. i highly recommend listening to the songs i previously listed while reading for a better experience 🫶 take care!!

With your heart in your throat and your whole body freezing due to autumn’s weather, you hurried towards Jay’s house, which was fortunately a few blocks away from yours.

You had gotten yet another call from the poor guy, asking you to come and fetch your boyfriend, who was apparently making a fuss.

It wasn’t rare, but it had gotten more frequent for him to go batshit at parties.

And it was your job to clean after his mess.

The music that came inside was so loud it only added to the headache you already had.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed the door open and found Jay waiting for you, biting his nails.

“Thank God you’re here.” He breathed out, quickly turning around “He’s gone mad, I swear.”

You had to just round the corner to the living room and there stood Heeseung, taking a guy by the collar, his fit raised in the air.

“Heeseung!” You shouted, but he was so deep in his own mind he couldn’t hear you.

“What the fuck did call me?” Heeseung growled, his mouth straight into a grimace.

The boy’s eyes were wide, as if he understood he had just poked the bear and couldn’t step back anymore “I’m sorry man, ok? I was just joking.”

Heeseung scoffed, “Oh, and I am joking too.” He raised his fist higher and was about to strike, but you stepped in and held his arm.

“Heeseung.” You hissed, lower this time, a whisper only meant for him.

He turned to you with an annoyed expression until his eyes took in the sight of you, recognising you.

Safe. He knew you, so he slowly lowered his arm.

“Let go.” You said, beckoning to the guy’s collar. Heeseung gave him another dangerous gaze before pushing him away.

He fell, but at least he didn’t have a broken nose.

Heeseung turned around and placed his hand on your waist “Did I hurt you?” He asked and by his bloodshot eyes and how you could barely see any white in them, you knew he was far gone.

You shook your head, “I just arrived.” Heeseung took in the sight of your baggy and cozy clothes.

Obviously, you had hurried there as soon as Jay made the call, not even bothering changing.

All the people in the living room were watching the two of you with both curious and wary expressions, “Let’s get in the car.” You said, Heeseung wasn’t their circus.

Mouthing a quick ‘sorry’ to the guy who almost had an encounter with his fist, you dragged your boyfriend out of the house.

Jay gave you a sympathetic nod before closing the house behind you, blocking out the deafening music.

Heeseung grabbed your hand and walked to the parking lot, opening the car door and shoving you in the passenger seat before rounding it and entering the vehicle as well.

The walk and fresh air should’ve sobered him up, at least just a little. You hoped.

As soon as he sat beside you, a scoff left your lips “Seriously, Heeseung?” You asked, “It’s the third time this week and it’s barely Thursday!”

He let out a low sigh, and reached out to caress your cheek. He had a sheepish look, and he was staring at you guiltily, though, you were sure he doubtfully had any regret.

“Just once more,” He said quietly. “And I'll control myself after this.” Both of you knew that it was just another empty promise.

“Like last time, and the time before that.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms “I don’t buy your bullshit, not anymore.”

His jaw tensed as he tried to remain patient. He knew you had every right to be mad at him, but could he blame him for wanting an escape?

“I’ll behave for a week, okay?” He asked, his leg bouncing, unable to stay still “Just give me this one last time.”

You frowned, noticing his strange behaviour “What did you take?”

Heeseung was caught off guard by the sudden question, and averted his gaze away from you, “It's just alcohol,” He replied, a slight edge in his tone “Quit fussing. We’re just going for a drive and letting off some steam.”

“You’re not driving,” You replied, your eyes widen “You’re as high as a kite, you think I don’t know that?”

Annoyance was now brewing in his gaze, and he clenched his jaw.

He wanted to snap at you for not trusting him, but a rational part of him knew deep down that he didn’t deserve your trust.

He hated that you knew him so well.

“I’m fine,” He insisted, stubbornly, taking out the car keys from the front pocket of his jeans. “I've driven drunk a hundred times. this is nothing.”

“That’s not something to be proud of,” You replied, stealing the keys from his hand. His reflexes were sloppy, so he couldn’t stop you in time. “One day you’ll either kill or get yourself killed.”

“Give it back.” He demanded, his voice low “I’ll take us to your house, we can’t stay here all night.”

“But we will if you don’t start talking.” You snapped, hiding the keys behind your back

Heeseung was taken aback by the harshness of your tone, and he was starting to get impatient as well.

“Why do you always have to be so stubborn?” He asked, his voice dropping an octave. “Just shut up and let me drive, I know what I’m doing.”

“You can’t speak without tripping over your tongue,” You questioned again, “What did you take?”

“I told you, it’s just alcohol,” He lied, his words coming out in a frustrated hiss. “Why won’t you just trust me?”

“Because you don’t give me reasons to trust you!” You spat back, your brows furrowed “What did you take?”

Heeseung was getting tired of the repetition, and the tone of your voice was starting to wear him down. He leaned in to bring his lips next to your ear.

“I just took a few ecstasy tabs, okay? And alcohol. Nothing major,” He whispered, his breath hot against your skin. “Just leave it be, alright?”

You willed your body not to show any signs of how his vicinity was affecting you “Nothing major? Heeseung, you were doing drugs.”

He leaned back and rolled his eyes, trying to brush it off “It’s just to have some fun.” He retorted “And I can make my own choices, you don’t need to be so uptight.”

“Being uptight is different from being worried!” You snapped “Getting high is not having fun. I closed an eye with the occasional weed you smoke, but this? Taking ecstasy tabs?”

Heeseung rolled his eyes as you nagged him about his life choices again. He knew that you weren’t wrong, but he hated admitting it.

He hated feeling like you were lecturing him, like he was a kid being scolded by his parents.

“Why are you so fixated on what I do?” He asked, his tone growing harsher. “I can handle myself, dammit.”

“Oh, I can see that very well.” You eyed him up and down, “You were about to attack a guy, and what for? Because he foul-mouthed you?”

He raised a brow. “He deserved it, if you didn’t come I would’ve done more than break his nose.”

The seriousness in his voice made your stomach churn. You hated to admit it, but you were scared of him sometimes.

You knew he would never lay a hand on you, deep inside he cared for you, but he didn’t care about himself at all and it served him as hatred towards others.

“Please, Heeseung.” You sighed, “Drugs aren’t something to play with. They’re dangerous.”

“A few ecstasy tabs or edibles won’t kill me, ya know?” He scoffed, running a hand in his hair.

He looked so beautiful, despite his bloodshot eyes and angry frown, he was still attractive.

“Jay called me again because you were ruining his party.” You pleaded with him to listen “Can’t you see that not even your friends want to be with you anymore?”

That worked.

Heeseung suddenly grasped your waist and pulled you onto his laps, holding you firmly in place “Enough,” He growled “I’m done listening to your lectures.”

You frowned, trying to move from his iron grip “I am not done.”

Heeseung let out a frustrated huff, and pulled you even closer, “Well, too bad,” He retorted. “You talk too much, and you nag too much, it's so annoying.”

He brought his lips close to your ear, and his voice dropped even lower. “Maybe I should just shut you up, hm?”

You didn’t like the way your body grew so weak for him, how it seemed to melt under his touch.

You needed to be strong, to let him hear your worries, so you tried to fight his grasp again.

But his grip on you was unwavering, and he didn’t even budge as you tried to push him away.

“Don’t you get it, baby?” He whispered huskily, his voice holding a hint of condescension. “I don't listen to you,

especially not when you nag.”

“I’m not doing this with you,” You said, feeling his hands on your body “I’m worried about you, Hee, we all are.”

“Enough,” He grumbled. “I don’t need your lectures.” He nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck “Why can’t you just let me be?”

His hands moved to hold your hips, forcing them to rock against his “Heeseung, stop.”

Heeseung wasn’t listening to a word you were saying, his mind clouded by the alcohol and drugs in his system.

He continued to press his face against your neck, peppering it with rough kisses, his hands began to wander to the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it up.

“Let me have this,” He murmured, his voice deep and desperate. “I need you right now.”

You closed your eyes, a soft sigh escaping your lips “No.” You tried to say firmly “You need to go home and sleep the drug off.”

Heeseung let out a frustrated whine as you tried to resist him, and he dug his fingers into your skin.

He pulled away from your neck to look at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of irritation and desire. “I need you. I need you right now.”

He leaned closer, his lips brushing against yours. “Baby, please,” He pleaded, his voice growing soft and gentle. “Just for a little bit, please.”

Seeing him in such a desperate state made your heart ache.

At least, he had exited the party and followed you in the car.

At least, he was there with you and not in the streets, causing messes for both himself and others.

“Okay,” You whispered, gulping down the good sense.

He pressed his forehead against yours. “I just need a little release,” He mumbled. “Just a little bit... you’ll give it to me, won’t you, baby?”

As he made you grind on him you quickly matched his rhythm, slowly moving on him.

He was growing more desperate for you, his body craving yours “That’s it,” He muttered, his voice thick with lust “Hump me just like that, baby.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his face close to your clothed chest “I’m just worried about you.” You said quietly.

Heeseung felt a flicker of guilt as you held onto him, and he reluctantly pushed it away. He didn’t want to be reminded of his mistakes.

“You worry too much,” he mumbled gruffly. “I'm fine, just stop nagging at me.”

You let out a small moan when his hips bucked up to meet yours and he said “Let me have you, baby.”

He could sense you surrender and smirked, leaning his head to suckle on your neck.

He wasn’t gentle, he left bites, brushing his tongue against it to soothe the pain.

But he wanted you to feel it, wanted you to know that pain was an occurrence if you stayed with him.

And you were too lovestruck to care, you realised.

Heeseung raised your shirt and tossed it on the passenger seat, burying his face in the middle of your breasts still contained by your bra.

He looked up at you, his gaze was clearer but darker as well, like the drug's effect was replaced by lust.

His cheeks were tinted with pink, his lips parted and you couldn’t help but grind on his clothed bulge, as if to reward him for being there.

Heeseunge closed his eyes and let out a deep moan as he felt you grinding on him, the friction sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Hee leaned his head back against the seat, his mouth slightly open as he let out a shaky exhale. “Fuck, angel,” He groaned, gripping your hips tightly, “Keep going, just like that, baby.”

Such a nickname was reserved only to you, because you were his angel, too good to be with a devil like him.

Still, you didn’t run. You never tried to.

What a fool.

His brows furrowed, only then remembering the reason behind your argument. He wanted to make you forget it, he had to.

“Angel,” He whispered, stopping you from moving, “I need to be inside of you, please.”

You bit your bottom lip and murmured, “But we don’t have a condom…”

Heeseung cursed under his breath as you reminded him about the lack of protection, his frustration growing once again.

He didn’t want to be denied, and the last thing he wanted right now was to stop.

He leaned forward and captured your lips in a rough, possessive kiss, his hands roaming all over your bare back. “I don’t care,” He mumbled against your lips. “I need you now, I don’t care if we have a condom or not.”

You were a weak girl, you knew that despite how much you tried to resist; you would always give in. And Heeseung was very much aware.

You stared down at him, your voice quiet as you said “I guess I could buy a pill tomorrow?”

He pulled away from the kiss with a sly grin “Good girl,” He murmured, his eyes dark and lustful “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

You hadn’t even realised he put a hand behind to pull the seat back until you were thrown in the backseats of the car, manoeuvred not so gently.

Heeseung was behind you in the matter of a second, your head was resting on the seat while your backside was in the air.

He leaned down, his body pressing against yours, and he started to plant a trail of rough kisses down your neck.

His hands roamed over your body, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him. “You look so sexy like this, baby,” He murmured, huskily.

You felt his bulge pressing in between your ass cheeks while his skilled fingers unclasped your bra, rough callous grasping them, kneading at the soft flesh.

Heeseung pulled your pants down, without even bothering to remove them properly, and dove in to lick a stripe out of your wet folds.

You moaned, your eyes squeezing “Hee.”

Heeseung murmured “Fuck baby, you always taste so good.”

He hummed at himself when you felt you press your backside against him, eager to be filled.

“Such a good girl,” He whispered “Always so willing for me. mh?”

He quickly worked his jeans down, enough just to take his hard cock out.

You yelped when he aligned it to your entrance and pushed in without any warning, the stretch too painful without any prepping.

Fighting was your favourite type of foreplay, anyways.

Heeseung leaned down, his mouth hovering over your ear. “Too much, baby?” he whispered, his voice soft and mocking.

Your eyes were squeezed tight as you tried to adjust “T-too much.” You replied, feeling jolts of pain shooting through your lower region.

He smirked at your response, feeling a sense of pride at your admission. Heloved knowing that he was the one causing you to feel this way.

“Oh angel,” He chuckled mockingly, “But you can take it.” And with those words he started moving. Rather slower than his usual pace, and that you were thankful.

You yelped in pain and so, Heeseung moved his fingers to gently circle on your clit “You need to relax, baby.”

Because for how much of an asshole Heeseung could be, he would never intentionally hurt you.

At least, not like that, he wanted to bring you the good kind of pain.

“Relax,” He groaned, feeling your walls clenching so hard around him “You’re almost pushing me out.”

You took steady breaths, trying to will your body to adjust to the thick intrusion.

Slowly, your frown contorted into an expression of pleasure.

He picked up the pace, his movements becoming more forceful.

“You feel so good baby,” He gripped your waist, your flesh burning in his grasp “So sweet and tight, just for me.”

You nodded, giving yourself completely to him “Just for you.” You mumbled, your voice muffled by being pressed against the seat.

“Ah, ah.” Heeseung pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail and raised you, adding pain to the pleasure “I didn’t quite catch that.”

You whimpered, trying to reach his hand and pull your hair away but Heeseung caught both of your arms, pinning them behind your back “Answer me.”

“J-just for you.” And Heeseung rewarded you by picking up the pace, the sound of skin slapping and squelch filling the car, its windows fogging up.

“Good girl,” He smiled, releasing the grip in your hair and moving it to choke you instead. He licked your earlobe, tasting the saltiness of your sweaty skin “Tell me, who do you belong to?”

You shut your lips, you weren’t going to give in to his contorted and possessive kink.

You were your own persona, no one else’s.

And Heeseung didn’t like that, no, he pushed you back on the seat and held your head down, smashing your cheeks.

He slapped your ass, so hard it must’ve left a red mark “Fucking answer me, who do you belong to?” His voice was low, dangerous.

A broken whimper left your lips, the sweet sensation of his cock rutting inside you combined with his rough handling making your head spin.

“That’s not the right answer.” He taunted, his thrusts becoming deeper, hitting all the right spots.

Heeseung knew you were close, but he wasn’t going to make you cum if you wouldn’t answer such a simple question.

“Having a cock inside of you makes you so dumb?” He mocked, slapping your ass once more “You’re such a slut, can’t think when you have me buried deep inside ya?”

His words only made you clench around him, you were mad at him for treating you like that, but you were mad at yourself for liking it.

“Say. It.” His voice was dripping with impatience but you shook your head.

Heeseung scoffed, leaning down next to your ear “I can do this all night, baby,” He whispered huskily “I can keep going until you give in. Say it.”

He raised a brow, waiting for your answer.

You opened your eyes and looked at him “I’m not an object, Heeseung.” You groaned.

“No?” He tsked, moving painfully slowly inside you “Yet you act like my personal sext toy, giving yourself to me whenever I ask.”

He let go of you and crossed his arms, stilling. You frowned, a complaining whimper leaving your lips.

“Fuck yourself on my cock.” He said, his voice icy “Since you’re not mine I don’t have to provide you anything.”

“Fine.” You raised your upper body, gripping the car door as you started to move back and forth, fucking his cock in and out of you.

You groaned when it slipped out, and when Heeseung made no move to push it back, you did it yourself.

A smug grin formed on your lips when you noticed how his breath hitched when you touched it, but his expression didn’t give anything away.

You tried again, trying to move faster, but it didn’t work well. Not like when he was the one doing it.

And it seemed as if your lack of skills was starting to affect Heeseung as well, a groan leaving his lips “I know I said I had all night, but I’d like to get some action.”

You scoffed “I’m trying my best,” You replied, pushing your backside against him, trying to reach the sweet spot he seemed to always find.

Heeseung clicked his tongue and shook his head, yanking your pants off your ankles.

He took you by your hips and turned you around until he was sitting and you were straddling him.

His cock was still inside of you, but this time you were on his lap, “Let’s see if you can ride me, mh? Or you can’t do anything alone?”

You frowned at his words and gripped the seat behind your back. Heeseung rolled his eyes and removed your hands, placing them on his shoulders.

You moved up and down, your head thrown back as you could feel him whole in you.

“That’s better,” He replied, leaning back against the seat and watching you riding him, still not moving a muscle.

You whined when he made no move to touch you, usually he’d play with your nipples or send jolts of pleasure by rubbing your clit. Yet, he did none of that.

“You know the magic word.” Heeseung smirked, “Say it, and I’ll make both of us feel good.”

He tilted his head “Don’t say it, and I’ll make you ride my dick until I cum, and judging by your slow pace, it might take forever.”

A few seconds passed where you pondered on your decision.

He was still high so there might be a chance that he wouldn’t remember you had give yourself completely to him. Against your morals.

You leaned close to his ear and whispered “M’yours, Hee.”

He growled, a deep rumble in his throat as he grasped your hips and moved you.

He didn’t guide your movements, he straight up used you like you were his fleshlight. You didn’t even know how he could move your body so easily.

He kept hitting the spot that had your eyes roll, your grasp on his shoulders making your nails dig in his flesh, only fuelling his desires.

Your expression full of lust made him smirk, he leaned to capture your lips in an hungry kiss, his tongue swiping over yours, tasting you.

As you kept clenching around him, he groaned, and ordered “Open up.”

You complied and opened your mouth, Heeseung gathered some saliva and then spit it on your tongue just to swipe it away with his own right after.

You moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck to steady yourself.

Heeseung chuckled, he knew you were close to your orgasm from your body language.

Breath laboured, loud moans escaping your lips and your walls sucking him in.

“Raise yourself.” He said, holding your body up to help you.

He placed one finger inside your asshole, gaining a gasp from you.

He held it still as he started fucking into you at a fast pace, needing to reach both of your orgasms.

You started mumbling nonsense, something that resembled ‘Yes’ and ‘Harder, please’ but not even you were sure.

It was like he had fucked your into oblivion, the only thing you could think about was how good he felt inside of you.

“Close, angel?” He asked, your walls clenching around him to the point of pain.

You hummed brokenly, managing to give him a small nod.

“You want to cum?” He asked, his voice slightly softer “Want to milk all around my cock?”

You nodded “Yes, Hee, want to cum.” You mumbled, your head dizzy.

“Cum for me, baby.” He whispered in your ear, pushing his finger deeper into your asshole.

You felt the knot in your stomach tighten so hard that when it snapped, you bit down on Heeseung’s clothed shoulder, making him groan and tighten his grip around you.

Your legs were shaking and you were panting from the intensity of your euphoria, your ears ringing.

Heeseung held you close to his chest, slowing his pace to bring you back to reality.

Slowly, your teeth let go of Heeseung’s shoulder, the metallic taste of blood in your mouth.

You gulped and looked at him through half lidded eyes, but his own were fixed down.

He was staring at where your bodies connected, the circle of your white liquid around his shaft, you could feel him twitch inside you.

“You can take some more, can’t you, baby?” He questioned, but you shook your head.

Heeseung frowned, “No? But I still haven’t finished.” Your body was tired and so was your mind, both from the fight and the intense sex.

“Let me finish,” He kissed you, deeply “Let me fill you up to the brim, please?”

You moaned at the thought, despite always taking precautions, you have always wanted him to make you his in the most primal way.

Seeing that you weren’t making a negative comment, Heeseung started moving you, slowly.

You moaned, feeling overstimulated as you gripped the arms that held you “Hee— I ca-I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He groaned, holding you still, flush to his chest as he started rutting his cock deep, hitting your cervix.

His moans were low, more like rumbles deep in his throat as he held your head on his shoulder, his eyes squeezing.

“Fuck,” He panted, moving so fast you could barely finish a moan that another one was coming, your voice hoarse “Fuck, Fuck, Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He fisted your hair, his other hand on your waist with a bruising grip “Gonna fill you so good, fuck my cum right back into you.”

You didn’t know if he was rumbling to you or more to himself, not like you minded.

Letting out a deep growl, he hit the deepest spot in you and emptied his load.

With some more deep thrusts, you could feel him twitch, and you felt so full.

His pace slowed until he finally stopped and you fell on him, fucked up.

Your whole body was bruised from his grip, your mind dizzy and your breath ragged.

“This was so good,” Heeseung whispered, holding your face in his hands and kissing you deeply.

He tried to move again but you grasped his arm, shaking your head “No, stop.” And he had the decency to comply, this time.

He pulled out and placed you beside him, putting his now softened cock back into his jeans.

Heeseung retrieved your shirt from the passenger seat, and tossed it to you, as well as your sweatpants.

Only when you were fully dressed did he speak again “I’m sorry, for what I did.”

Your eyes widened, not expecting his apology at all “Hee…” You murmured, your gaze soft “I’m just so worried about you, I get mad because I care about you.”

You placed one hand on his cheek, caressing his skin with your thumb. “If I didn't, it wouldn’t matter that you snorted things or… injected shit into your veins.”

Heeseung frowned, “I’m not a junkie, all I did was take some ecstasy tabs.”

You sighed, knowing there was no way to make him reason when he was still drunk and high “Okay, Heeseung. Whatever you say.”

“I’m driving.” Your tone was firm “Y/N.” He tried to say but you stopped him.

“No, I am driving,” You retrieved the keys that had fallen and climbed on the driver’s seat.

Heeseung let out a sigh but didn’t talk back, instead he climbed into the passenger seat and shut his mouth, probably all that he had drank and snorted was taking a toll on him.

You hadn’t realised when you took him into your apartment and showered with him, which led into another round of love— sex making.

You hadn’t realised when he apologised for his behaviour and kissed each mark he had left on your skin.

You hadn’t realised when he let you sleep on his chest, gently rubbing his hands through your hair.

But you did when you woke up to an empty bed, with a plan b pill and a glass of water wishing you a good morning. The only trace of your boyfriend being the wrinkled sheets beside you.

Only then, did you realise that Lee Heeseung was going to be the death of you.

[babypuppiboi]

Still thinking of being a party’s subby puppy toy

Like imagine being in a collar and nothing else, once people start arriving they all just HAVE to pet you and coo and say hi before anything else, having people send you off to fetch them drinks and the toys that they’re gonna use on you

Randomly getting manhandled into somebody’s lap so they can play with the puppy, just get to be a sweet little pup for the whole night

[omedapixel]

MORE DEBUG OBJECTS

By poular demand, here are the rest of the prop and miscellaneous objects enabled for decorating! I don't have any pics right now, but the full list of objects is below the cut, and each package is merged by expansion pack.

As with my other debug objects, these can all be found under DEBUG > MISC. The catalog names are often something weird, because I haven't edited or added any strings.

These objects are technically not CC, it just allows you to access and decorate with objects that are already in game. Therefore you can uninstall these overrides, share worlds and lots using them, and they'll still remain wherever you've placed them.

Also, if you have a default replacement for any of these props, for example a plate default, then the object will also be updated to reflect that.

I highly reccomment using this in conjunction with my S3DT mod, since some of the objects are half sunk into the ground by default.

DOWNLOAD HERE

Object List Below

BASE GAME:

Guitar Case

Amplifier

Bottle Spigot (unused asset)

Child Ladle

Child Mixing Bowl

Cutting Board (slots do no work, unfortunately)

Fire Extinguisher

Fire Poker

Fire Lighter

Hammer

Bartending Bottle Prop

Ice Cream Cone

Microwave Meal

Paper Plate

Screwdiver

Sponge

Toilet Brush

Wedding Ring

Wrench

WORLD ADVENTURES:

Canteen

Chopsticks

Dig Site Brush

Flour Bag

Fortune Cookie

Map (looks like plain parchment)

Nectar Glass

Nectar Tray

Pamphlet

Pickaxe

Pungi (snake charming instrument)

AMBITIONS:

Chisel

Fire Axe

Blowtorch

Chainsaw

Detonator

Gnubb Bunny

Gnubb King

Junk Pipe Piece

Magnifying Glass

Notepad

Shovel

Tape Measure

Tattoo Gun

Triangle Ruler

Walkie Talkie

LATE NIGHT:

Drink Shaker

Drumstick

Party Glass

Round Party Glass

Bartending Bottle Prop

Juice Can

GENERATIONS:

Envelope

Love Letter Envelope

Cheap RAM Disk

Expensive RAM Disk

Beaker

Rolled Diploma

Flashlight

Game Controller

Greeting Card

Round Flask

Sparkling Juice (champagne)

PETS:

Hoofpick

Adult Pitchfork

Child Pitchfork

Plastic Pet Food Bowl

Cat Hunting Chip Bag

Cat Hunting Feather

Cat Hunting Leaf

Dog Treat

Foal Bottle

Horse Brush

Litter Scoop

Pet Brush

Stick (for playing fetch)

Freezer Bunny Ice Cream

Kitty Litter Pile

Rainbow Ice Cream

(forgot to do the chocolate ice cream, sorry!)

SHOWTIME:

CD Case

Record

Golf Ball

Juggling Pin

Microphone (grey)

Snack Bowl

Headphones

Golf Club Average

Golf Club Expert

Golf Club Old

Firefly Jar

FireflyJar Lid

Juggling Knife

Magician Sword

SUPERNATURAL:

Fly Swatter

White Glove

Bonehilda Key

Alchemy Bowl

Alchemy Package

Beehive Smoker

SEASONS:

Horseshoe

Child Rake

Adult Rake

Barista Bar Cup

Egg Hunt Basket

Trick or Treat Basket

Carving Knife

Fruit Punch

Hot Beverage Cup

Stack of Hot Dogs

Love Letter

Pie (from eating contest)

Snow Cone Syrup

Soccer Ball

Tissue

Spooky Day Candy

UNIVERSITY:

Clipboard

Red Juice Cup

Art Scanner

Bonfire Logs

Candy Bar

Cold One

College Letter

Energy Drink

Manilla Envelope

Macot Plushy

Ping Pong Ball

Ping Pong Paddle

Mistletoe (unused asset)

Protest Banners (3 versions)

Protest Flyer

Smartphone

Soda Can

Paint Sray Can

Suitcase

Whiteboard Eraser

Whiteboard Marker

ISLAND PARADISE:

Broom

Coconut Drink

Cold Beverage

Grim Reaper Trident

Pineapple Drink

Rescue Tube

Glass Bottle Pool Bar

Pool Bar Juice Can

INTO THE FUTURE:

Microphone (black)

OIl Puddle

Stardust

Paper Bag

[teenidlegirl]

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀౨౿  ׅ ۟   ֪ 𝓢ecrets 𝓐nd 𝓣emptations ۪ ׂ   𓈒 ୭

꒰⠀⠀⟡⠀.⠀professor!miguel⠀𝓍⠀professor!reader⠀.⠀⟡⠀⠀꒱

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓢𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. it was just a stupid party. drink, flirt, and gossip. you weren’t expecting to have a one nightstand with a charming, mysterious man. you also weren’t expecting he is the newly hired professor at the same university you teach at.

‧ ִ ۫⠀♱ 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. college!au, strangers to enemies (sorta) to lovers, tension, angst, smut, protected sex, fem oral, confessions, jealousy, swearing, pet names, hispanic/latina!reader ( mdni )

enjoy yourself tonight.

that’s what your friends told you.

despite your many objections, they dragged your ass to a party. a friend of a friend is throwing it. not wanting to be a complaining bitch, you suck it up and tag along. a basic mini dress and matching heels. nothing too extra, just simple.

the minute you arrive there, you want to leave. you don’t know anyone but you’re two friends, lyla and felicia. the best decision is to stick by their side. unfortunately, felicia is flirting with some tall light brunette skinny guy. he isn’t that attractive but everyone has their own taste. lyla, on the other hand, immediately heads over towards the food. she’s a big eater, already stuffing her mouth with appetizers.

a sigh escapes your lips. left all alone.

so much for enjoying yourself. your friends ditched you and you don’t know a single soul here so how the hell can you enjoy yourself tonight?

the only thing to enjoy is “double fantasy” by the weeknd playing through the speakers.

with nothing much else to do, you stumble towards the bar. you kindly ask the bartender for a modelo. the look he gives you says you picked an odd choice out of all options but shrugs it off and fetches your requested drink. you resist rolling your eyes.

fucking dick, you thought to yourself.

it’s been 10 minutes and you haven’t received your corona. your brows furrowed in confusion.

“excuse me?” you call out to the bartender, who’s dealing with other customers. of course the bastard didn’t hear you over the loud ass music. another sigh falls from your lips. “excuse me, sir?” you wave.

that finally got his attention but his slightly annoyed expression caught you off guard.

what’s this dude’s deal?

“you forgot my modelo.” you tell him, trying to be polite, maintaining your attitude.

he turns around and grabs it from the shelf.

it was there so easy to grab yet took him 10 minutes? he was just straight up ignoring you.

“sorry.” the bastard mutters without eye contact then walks away to tend other customers.

now you roll your eyes. “cabrón.” you mutter, grabbing the bottle and take a sip of the drink.

turning around, you scan the area. half talking on the sidelines and half on the dance floor. your eyes widen when you find felicia making out with that same guy. welp, at least she’s having a great time. you shrug it off with another sip of your modelo. glancing around, you begin feeling like an outcast. your fingers clench the glass bottle, holding it to your chest. standing there awkwardly as everyone else has fun.

instead of glancing around like a weirdo, you wander around the place. passing by all types of people you’re not familiar with. trying not to bump into someone, especially a drunk idiot.

with your social battery running low, or basically not in the mood to deal with people, you find a secluded space where not much people are. away from the dumb party. you stare out at the view, the gorgeous city of nueva york from a rooftop.

just a moment of solitude.

a delicious fresh breeze flows by, making you close your eyes to relish the refreshing air.

“escaping from the chaos?”

a baritone voice form behind makes your while around, startling you a bit.

a man, tall and broad. clad in all black. dress shirt, slacks, and oxfords. brown curls slicked back. a simple silver necklace dangling around his neck. a matching silver watch that was obviously expensive. his right hand holding a small glass.

utterly handsome, definitely your type. you only like brunettes. what caught your eye are those sharp cheekbones and strong jawline. so perfect and sharp, slide your finger along them and you’ll get a paper cut. firm, masculine facial features.

“parties aren’t really my forte.” the lack of enthusiasm in your voice says it all.

“you’re not alone.” he walks forward, walking up beside you. “they aren’t mine either.” he stares out at the view, taking a sip of his beverage.

you observe him with curious eyes. turning around so you’re facing the view again. only this time you have company. strangely enough, you don’t mind. you get a good whiff of his cologne. damn, he smells good.

you also realize exactly how tall this man is. way over a foot taller than you. perhaps two feet taller.

“suppose we’re the outsiders.” you joke.

“like the book?” he muses.

you quirk a brow, intrigued by his reference. “i guess so, classic book and movie.”

“agree.” the man hums.

a beat passed by before he speaks again. however, his next few words surprises you.

“i have to confess, i noticed you earlier.” he admits. “you caught my eye. i just had the urge to talk to you, as strangely as it sounds. which i apologize for.” he quickly adds that last phrase.

you gaze up at him. intrigued by his interest in you. it was foreign to you since you’ve only been on a few dates but never led to anything serious. or a man confessing wholeheartedly of their interest.

you notice his slight tensed expression when you don’t respond. the air got tensed as well.

“miguel o’hara.” he quickly introduces himself, extending his free hand for you to shake.

you finally respond with your name as you gently shake his hand. taking mental note of his engulfs yours completely. damn, they’re really huge. you make sure to not ogle at them.

“so what brings you here?” you decide to initiate a proper conversation. your interest in this man slowly grows. his mysterious aura is so alluring.

“mutual friend of the party owner. didn’t want to come but was forced to anyways.”

your brows raised in surprise. “in the same boat. i was dragged here then left like getting dropped off at daycare.” you take a sip of your drink.

that earns you a light snort from the tall man. “doesn’t seem like true friends.”

you shrug. “they’re great, just spending time with things they love. men and food.”

miguel’s head tilts a little, one thick brow quirk up. “what do you love?”

the question caught you off, definitely wasn’t expecting nor know how to answer. what do you love? it’s complicated, despite how simple it sounds.

“solitude. being alone is comforting.” your gaze returns to the view, away from his for a moment.

“i guess i ruined that comfort.”

you lightly shake your head. “you didn’t. surprisingly enough, your presence is actually the only one that doesn’t bother me tonight.” you look back at him.

it’s true. his alluring presence doesn’t make you feel uncomfortable or annoyed. intrigued and captivated instead. perhaps he is another outsider like you.

“well, i’m glad to know that.” the corners of his very plump lips twitch upward, a brief smile.

surprising, that makes your heart flutter a little. you’ve only met the man and already has an affect you. no other man has done that before.

you and miguel carry on your conversation, getting to know one another. you two retreated to the kitchen inside, sitting on the barstools at the kitchen island. sipping on your drinks. his fingers would linger beside your bare calf. his touch igniting sparks in your body. your expression remains a neutral as you talk, but internally screaming. damn this man really has an affect on you. perhaps the only good thing that came out from this stupid party.

“seems like it’s getting more intense. do you want leave? someplace less crowded where we can hear each other better.” a light chuckle left his lips.

a little smile graces your lips. “sure, besides i don’t wanna deal with more drunk idiots.”

that earns you another chuckle from him, making your heart flutter once again.

you try finding felicia and lyla to let them know you’re leaving but there’s too much people it’ll be possible to find them. you’ll just send them a text.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

miguel takes you a small pub which was much less crowded. you have dinner there since both of you didn’t eat at the party. this was much better, in a quieter atmosphere, no chaos, and having a sincere conversation with someone who’s considerate.

“can i kiss you?”

his husky, seductive tone makes your heart swoop.

you then remember this could lead to a one nightstand and nothing else. although, there is this spark between you two, obviously sexual tension. miguel may be a nice guy, just don’t fall too deeply. it’s be a one time thing. it’s also probably be the last time you’ll ever him since you two never talked about your personal life like jobs, if either of you live close by. you prefer to keep personal information private, miguel respected and understood that.

you nod with a tiny smirk. “polite, i like it.”

miguel grins as he leans closer. his breath fanning yours. his lips gently pressed against yours. a gentle, soft kiss. damn his lips feel good, all plumped and nice. yours, though, are addictively sweet. he can taste your lip gloss but doesn’t care if some get on his. you never thought you’d kiss in a pub, let alone in public but with miguel, you feel comfortable.

he takes you back to his apartment. on the drive there, his hand gently massaged your thigh while driving with the other. your body tingled in excitement at the sensation. the same hand never left your lower back as you entered his home.

instead of rushing to the bedroom, you two talk a little more. miguel reassured you if you wish to leave, if you’re not comfortable with this because he doesn’t want you to think he’s only looking for sex. he truly enjoyed his conversations with you. you told him it’s fine and want to stay with him.

truthfully, you’re excited for what’s coming but of course you keep that to yourself. you’ve been wet since the moment his fingers were on your calf back at the party. his touches are just something else.

gently taking your hand in his, miguel guides you to the bedroom. he turns around and gingerly cups your face with both hands then kisses you. your hand rest on his abs, feeling the muscles through his dress shirt. you fight the urge to unbuckle his belt, you don’t want to seem desperate.

the kiss grows more passionate. shivers go down your spine as his hands slowly trail down your back. shoulder blades, the curve of your spine, then at your hips right above your ass. you can sense his hesitation so you decide to apply some pressure into the kiss and roam your hands over his broad shoulders to tigger his tendencies.

it worked since he gently palms it through your dress, eliciting a soft moan from you. now that did trigger his urges. bending down, miguel grabs the back of your thighs and lifts you in his arms. instinctively, you wrap your legs around his slightly pinched waist as he walks towards the bed. very carefully, miguel placed you down the mattress, hovering over you, yours lips never detach. your fingers dig into his brown curls as your passionate makeout season continues.

you softly sigh as his lips brush along your jawline then your delicate neck. fingers playing with his curls, making miguel’s mind hazy.

he leaves a few more butterfly kisses on your neck before lifting up. miguel glances at your chest then your eyes. “puedo?”

you nod with smirk, hiding your excitement.

his fingers grip on the zipper on the front of your dress and slowly pulls it down. miguel bites back a moan as peeks of your cleavage are revealed to his lustful eyes. a glimpse of your black lacy bra hugging your breasts perfectly like a gift.

you inhale sharply as his large palms gently cup them. he gives them a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you. board palms playing with the soft squishy fat, kneading it with expertise. the lacy fabric of your bra on his fingertips. the addicting sensation makes you arch your back, chest leaning into his touch. miguel buries his face in your cleavage, kissing and licking the soft skin. a moan falls from your lips when his hands push them together, stuffing his face more with your soft tits.

one hand trails down to the hem of your dress. “is this okay?” he lifts his head to meet your gaze.

you hum with a nod.

miguel slowly pulls your dress off your body over your head then tosses it on the floor. his breath gets caught in his throat at the sight of your exposed body. eyes roaming over each curve.

his admiring gaze makes you a little nervous. it’s been a while since you’ve been intimate with someone. last time was a one nightstand with some asshole, in the beginning he didn’t seem like one, and he only went straight for pound town, not silently worshiping like the mysterious man above is.

you also don’t want to be the only one almost naked. your fingers grip on his belt. “your turn, guapo.”

a low chuckle falls from his lips. “impatient.”

you help him unbutton his shirt, revealing his toned chest. decorated with chest hair. the sound of his belt unbuckling makes your body tingle in excitement, specifically down to your throbbing core.

your eyes widen in awe at his muscular form. chest hair, delicious abs, and mouthwatering happy trail. they widen more as you notice the large bulge in his boxers. you expected him to be big due to his large frame but the outline makes it look like a monster.

“lift up your hips for me.” he said.

you obliged, lifting your hips. miguel slides a pillow underneath, giving you some support.

he bends down towards your legs. grabbing one leg, his lips brush against your calf. miguel slowly trails up your leg, reaching towards your inner thigh. your heart raced in anticipation. your breath hitched as you feel his lips sucking your inner thigh. your core throbs terribly, desperate for him.

he grins against your skin as he feels your legs twitch. “impatient for me, huh gatita?” he slowly moves towards your clothed cunt. miguel’s grin widens as he hears a small whine from above.

“no te procupes, gaitia. i’ll make sure you scream my name.” his seductive words makes sends shivers down your spine. gripping the edges of your panties, miguel slowly drags them down your legs.

those crimson eyes never leave your exposed pussy as he tosses your panties on the floor. grabbing your thighs and placing them on his bulky shoulders, miguel dives in and licks a stripe up your throbbing core. making you shudder and let out a soft moan. he switches between licking you up and sucking your sweet bundle of nerves. those sweet noises you’re making encouraged him to continue.

“dios… you taste amazing, gatita.” he moans against you, sending vibrations through you. “my dessert tonight.” he says in between licking and sucking.

his lips suck bit more aggressively on your clit, causing you to moan loudly. instinctively, you dig your fingers in his hair once again. each lick and suck makes you grip on his hair tighter, earning a muffled groan from the brunette man.

“miguel!~” you moan, arching your back off the bed as he starts penetrating you with his tongue.

the tip of the wet muscle penetrating you perfectly. causing your back to arch like waves. instinctively, you grind against his face. endless moans spilling from your lips. you definitely weren’t expecting him to be such a munch. each flick of his tongue, lips sucking your clit contain with such expertise.

after more flicks of his tongue, you come with a wail of his name. gushing over his tongue with your sweetness. a shiver runs down his spine at how beautifully you sang his name. miguel drinks you up feverishly as if he found an oasis.

finally, he moves away from your now sensitive pussy. “delicious, gatita. best dessert ever.” miguel seductively runs his tongue over lips, collecting the leftover of your sweetness. the sight makes your pussy flutter. he caught that and smirks.

grabbing a condom packet from the nightstand, miguel swiftly takes off his boxers. his cock bouncing out from its confinements. your eyes blown out by the size of it. holy shit he’s really fucking huge. there is no way that will fit inside you. your pussy, however, throbs for it, despite its size.

he sensed your apprehension. “i’ll be careful. lo prometo, gatita.” miguel climbs back on the bed, hovering your smaller figure.

“do you trust me?” he asks softly. “if we need to stop, tell me.” sincerity in his tone.

you nod. “i trust you.”

gripping his cock with a hand and the other on your thigh, miguel aligned himself with your entrance. a shared moan mingles in the steamy air as he slowly slides through your tight fluttering walls.

“fuck- so tight, gatita. gotta let me in a little more, por fav.” miguel groans.

you try by spreading your legs as much as you can, giving him the space he needs. a soft whimper falls from your lips as you feel his bulbous tip settled against your sweet spot. as soon as he bottoms out and you give him the green light, he does a slow thrust. eliciting a soft moan from you.

gingerly taking both your wrists with one hand, miguel’s gaze is locked with yours as he slowly kisses them then pins them above your head on the pillow.

“gonna make you feel good, hermosa.” he whispers huskily before capturing your lips with his, slowly thrusting into your tight cunt.

your moans and whimpers are muffled, sallowed by miguel’s lips. his cock slowly dragging out before plunging it back inside your fluttering walls with a deep slow thrust, allowing you to feel every inch of him. even with the condom on, you feel all of him.

miguel is in awe of your blissful expression. fluttering lashes, brows furrowed, gorgeous eyes rolled back, pretty sounds falling from your lips, back arched. a sense of pride flowing through his veins, knowing he is causing those movements of ecstasy.

“hermosa… taking me so well.” he softly pants, face leaning closer towards yours. his panting gently hitting your face as he admires you.

“oh miguel~” you moan as a big deep thrust hits your sweet spot. back arched for the hundredth time.

he lets out a groan as he feel yours walls clenching his cock. going insane at the sensation, motivating him to slowly pick up the pace of his hips.

obscure sounds mingles in the hot air of sex. your moans and his groans in unison. his hips snaps against yours at a faster pace. with his free hand, it travels down to where you’re connected and flicks your clit with his middle finger. causing you to moan loudly which makes him smile, back arched off the bedsheets at the sudden intense sensation. your hands balled into fists, nails digging into your palms.

“no other man has fucked you like this, huh gatita?” he pants above you. a grin on his face that grows wider when you shake your head followed by a whine.

the bed rocked due to miguel’s slight harsh thrust. the headboard repeatedly hitting the wall. he’ll get complaints from his neighbors but doesn’t give a shit. this intimate moment with you is more important than worrying about disturbing his dumbass neighbors’ slumber.

a few more rough flicks to your puffy clit and thrusts against that sensitive spot, you come with a wail of his name. gushing over his concealed cock, miguel wishing he could truly feel it but accepts it and is too mesmerized by your angelic expression as you reach the pinnacle of pleasure so beautifully.

as soon as he gently releases your wrists, you use all your strength and flip positions. miguel’s eyes go wide as he’s suddenly laying on his back, impressed by your sudden take of control but oh so loves the view above him. resting your hands on his abs, you ride his cock after feeling desperate to do so. another loud moan escapes your lips. you feel him deeper in this position. all the way in your guts.

large palms grip the fat of your hips, tightening with each roll of your hips. while riding the fuck out of him, you suddenly remembered you’re still wearing your bra. quickly unclasping it with a hand, the garment falls off your chest, freeing your breasts. miguel’s eyes widen, a groan rumbling from his chest at the sight of your exposed breasts. watching them jiggle as you bounce on his dick. a thin layer of sweat coating them like a dressing.

a deep feeling of hunger bubbles in his body. his hands on your hips travel up to your bouncing tits and gropes them. kneading the soft mounds feverishly. relishing the squishiness in his palms. with his thumb and index finger, he pinches your perky nipples then gently tugs them. eliciting a loud whine from you. the reaction makes him grin.

a loud groan erupts from his throat, throwing his head back against the pillow as you circle your hips in sinful manner. “oh fuck- mami…” instinctively, his hands return to your hips, tighter this time.

your legs were about to give out due to the burning sensation but miguel’s hands on your hips guiding you was a big help. the more you bounce on his cock, the faster both your orgasms were approaching.

“fuck- i’m gonna—“ miguel cuts himself with a load groan as he reaches his climax. spurting thick white ropes into the condom, filling it with his seed. secretly wishing it was your pussy.

you come as well, marking it as your third time tonight. you’re never orgasmed so much in your life. definitely an incredible experience.

you collapse on his chest and miguel immediately wraps his arms around you. your pants echoing the room as you both recover from your highs. his thumb tenderly rubbing up and down your spine as comfort.

after a few minutes to recover, miguel tossed out the used condom in the trash and carefully cleans you up with a towel from his bathroom. after cleaning up and giving you a water bottle, he then joins you in the covers and allow slumber to call both your names.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you never forgot that night.

you left that morning before miguel woke up. a part of you felt guilt but it was a one nightstand after all. despite the chemistry between you two. some things are meant to end. it’s just how life is.

besides, you’ll probably never see him again. miguel radiates that mystery guy vibe who’ll you will meet once and never again afterwards.

you really liked him, you really did. still do, in fact. he never left your mind. his touch still lingering on your skin like a ghost. how good he made you feel, the sex and conversations with him. you felt so comfortable with him. however, it was just a one time thing.

oh well.

now summer activities are over and the new school year begins. another year giving lectures. you love your job as a professor, encouraging and motivating students to become their best.

each year is different. you’re excited to see what’s in store for this school year.

dressed in a fresh outfit for the first day. a baby pink blouse with a long white silk skirt. after your first two lectures, you decide to head to the teachers lounge for a quick cup of coffee. you didn’t go to your usual cafe this morning since you were in a bit of a rush.

entering the lounge, you head over to the counter where the coffee maker is. waving and greeting fellow colleagues on your way in. once you make your coffee, you stir it with a plastic spoon. after enough stirring, you take a small sip to test if it’s good. a satisfied hum from your lips says it all.

as you turn around to start your journey back to your classroom, your heart drops.

standing across the room talking with a few other male colleagues, a man with brown hair and stands way taller than his two counterparts. clad in black button up shirt and dark denim jeans. a pair of thick rimmed glasses settled over his eyes.

miguel.

the same miguel from the stupid party.

the same miguel you fucked that same night.

suddenly, you feel paralyzed. a wave of shock coursing through your body. jaw dropped and eyes popping out of your damn skull.

he’s a fucking professor here? at the same fucking university as you? what the actual fuck.

you fucked a coworker?

oh fuck.

those thoughts pause the moment his eyes meets yours before widening as well. his expression matches yours. a wave of anxiety hits you.

shit shit shit.

your body goes into panic mode and you bolted out of lounge. not sparing a glance at him. anxiety consumes your body like a virus. heart pounding in your chest as you hurriedly walk down the hallway. you didn’t notice the concern looks given your way as you rush back to your classroom.

a sudden wave of nausea hits you as you enter your classroom and hurriedly shut the door. tossing your coffee in the trash. the nausea destroyed your thirst and hunger simultaneously. holding your hands close to your chest, you slowly slide down against the door before sitting on the cold tile floor. the rapid drumbeat of your heart echos in your ears. chest heaving frantically and eyes fluttering.

this can’t be happening. this can’t be true.

miguel is a fucking professor?

but you’ve never seen him before in previous years. you’ve been teaching at nueva york university for four years. never once you saw his devilish handsome face on this campus. you’re 100% sure of it.

oh shit- is he new?

word has been announced a new professor, a biology professor specifically, has been hired.

oh my god- it’s fucking miguel.

glancing at the clock on the wall, your phone was on your desk so you couldn’t read the time easily, it’s an hour before your next lecture. that gives you time to deal with this mindfuck and calm down.

all you pray is to not run into miguel at all.

that ultimately fails when he catches you in the parking lot.

“don’t touch me.” you aggressively shrug away from his light touch on your upper arm, stomping your way to your car as fast as you can.

“please, can we talk?” miguel pleads, almost sounds desperate as he follows you like a lost puppy.

“no, stay the fuck away from me.”

“hermosa, pro favor—“

“stop!” you whirl around with bloodshot eyes, making him stop in his tracks. “stop following me! i don’t wanna fucking talk to you… at least, not in public…” you quickly glance around the parking lot, making sure there’s no bystanders.

his eyes do the same before sighing, his shoulders slumped. “i know, just please let me explain to you.”

you shake your head. “i said not in public.”

“then let’s go someplace else.”

“i’m not going anywhere with you.”

he frowns, secretly butthurt. “¿porque?”

“because i don’t wanna be seen with you because we’re coworkers! when people see us together too close, they’ll get the wrong idea.”

another sigh escapes his lips, understanding what you’re implying. “i understand but we really do need to talk—“

“no, we’re not talking. end of conversation.” you stomp your way to your car, which was only a foot away, ignoring miguel’s pleads.

part of you really wants to talk to him, know what the fuck is going on. it’s the right thing to do but the potential gossip of two professors hanging out with each other a bit too closely which could jeopardize you both consumes your mind.

miguel gives up and stops chasing after you once you got into your car and drive off with a pissed off face. shoulders still slumped as he sighs, feeling defeated and a little frustrated.

“fuck…” he curses at himself, running a hand through his brown curls.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

you avoided miguel like a fucking plague.

cooped up in your classroom majority of the day. the only times you’d leave is to use the restroom, fr an a quick snack from the local campus cafe, meet other professors for discussions.

luckily, miguel hasn’t shown up to your classroom. probably doesn’t know which room number is yours. although, you don’t doubt he has asked others for it. but still, he hasn’t shown up yet.

you never stepped foot in the lounge in fear of seeing him there like the previous time. too afraid to see his large silhouette around campus and chase after you.

you feel so fucking guilty. you truly are making this worse and awkward than it already is. you should talk to him, sort this shit out. communication is key.

but fear is consumes you like virus.

you fucking a coworker would cause a scandal. okay, maybe you’re being a little dramatic. you and miguel are both adults and professors. you just don’t want drama or gossip spreading around. coworkers whispering behind your back. that’s the last thing you need, more bullshit added to your list.

you exhale deeply as you walk down the hall towards your classroom. the first lecture starts in 20 minutes so you had time to grab breakfast at the campus cafe. a croissant sandwich and fruit.

“hey!” a familiar male voice calls out.

turning around, you see your coworker eddie. a sigh of relief leaves your lips, thankful it’s not miguel.

“hey, eddie.” you greet your friend with a smile.

“hey, me and the guys are meeting at jackie’s tonight. you still planning to come?”

the guys consist of you, eddie, your coworker peter and his wife mj, your other coworker jessica and her husband. eddie used to bring his girlfriend anne until they broke up. almost every friday, you all would head over to jackie’s, the local bar for funnies.

you nod with a smile. “yep, i’ll be there.”

“okay, cool! also, should i get red or white tulips?”

you quirk a brow, smirking. “you’re really trying to win back anne, aren’t you?”

a shameful smile plastered on his face. “yeah…” he awkwardly rubs the back of his neck with a hand.

you sigh, shaking your head with a smile. “white because they represent forgiveness.”

eddie claps excitedly with a big grin before pulling you in a quick, tight hug. “thank you, thank you, thank you! you’re the best!”

you chuckle at his enthusiasm. “of course, eddie.”

“see you tonight!” he lets you go then starts walking away with a wave.

you laugh, waving back. you hope things work out for him and anne, unlike you and miguel. you dismiss the thought with a head shake and walk away.

unknowingly, a pair of jealous brown eyes observed the interaction from down the hall. miguel knew eddie, one of the coworkers he became acquainted with on his first day. he sometimes gets on miguel’s nerves with his shitty ass humor, and consistent crying about his breakup with anne.

but oh eddie was really on his nerves when he pulled you into a hug. miguel’s jaw clenched and fists tightens at the intimate moment. he knows eddie is still in love with anne, would never chase after another woman because his heart still beats for her. by the interaction, it seems you two are friends which is totally fine. it’s normal to have friends.

but miguel’s brain says otherwise. eddie’s arms wrapped around you made his eye twitch. jealously boiling in his veins. miguel knows he shouldn’t be jealous because you’re not his and he’s not yours. but his feelings for you are strong. he wished it was him giving you that hug, just to feel you in his arms again.

your distant behavior was taking a toll on him. turning on your heel the minute he sees you and tries chasing you but ultimately fails. it leaves him upset and frustrated. miguel needs to talk to you.

he needs to find a way.

he has find a day to talk to you.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

as you’re walking down the hall to your classroom, a yelp falls from your lips as you’re suddenly yanked by the arm into a supply closet. whirling around to face whoever snatched you, your eyes widen.

“motherfucker…”

“i’m sorry, i didn’t have another choice.” miguel holds up his hand cautiously.

“dragging me into a supply closet, where the janitor can clearly walk in, was your only choice?”

he lowers his hands. “okay, not the greatest idea but i just need to talk to you.”

“no.” you try moving past him but his bigass frame blocks you completely. “ugh! move, miguel.”

“not until we talk.” he said sternly, crossing his arms.

you groan, rolling your eyes. “ya te dije, i don’t wanna talk to you. especially not here, miguel.”

“tell me why you’re freaking out and i’ll let you go.”

anger and impatience boils in your veins. nails digging into your palms as your fists tightens. “i swear, if you don’t move i’ll—“

“what are you gonna do, gatita?” he coos, smirking.

“don’t call me that, especially in public.”

“we’re in a supply closet, there’s no one else.”

you grown out of frustration. “ay por dios, miguel! let me out! i have a class in 10 minutes!”

miguel just stands there with an intimidating expression, piercing eyes looking down at you. his heart races in his chest. being so close to you again makes his mind hazy. it’s been weeks, almost a month since you’ve been in the same space, standing so close to each other. he fought his demons to touch you, hold you in his arms.

you whine, running both hands over your face. you can’t believe this is happening. locked in a closet with the man who’s been constantly on your mind. tossing and turning in your bed having wet dreams about. whose touches still linger on your skin.

you hate the way he towers over you so easily. you hate the way he can corner you with his big frame. you hate the way your heart is racing because of him.

“fine, you wanna talk? let’s talk. why didn’t you tell me?” you fold your arms, mirroring his posture.

you went straight to the point.

miguel sighs, frowning. “first, you never mentioned you worked at a college. second, at the time i didn’t know if i was getting the job or not. i didn’t get a call until a week after we met.”

allowing his words to sink in, you do remember not mentioning you’re a professor at nyu. you kept personal information private.

“okay, the first part is on me.” you state before sighing once again. “fuck…” you lean against the wall with a thud, staring at the ceiling to avoid his eyes.

“trust me, i’m just surprised as much as you are.” miguel takes a small step closer.

you look back at him, staring at each other for a moment. if you had superhearing, you’d hear both your rapid heartbeats. the close proximity makes you and miguel anxious, bashful messes.

quickly blinking, you snap out of it. “there, we talked, bye.” swooping past him, you quickly open the door and walk out, not giving him enough time to react.

thankfully, there wasn’t anyone in the hallway. rushing back to your classroom, you swiftly close the door and sat down at your desk. you let out a deep breath before slouching down in your chair.

you can’t believe that just happened.

⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂃 ୨ ₊ 𓂃 ౨ৎ   𓂃 ₊ ୧   𓂃

coffee and books, two of your favorite things. you pay a visit to your local bookshop café. you spend an hour and a half slipping on coffee while reading a murder mystery novel. once it’s time to leave, you pack up your things and exit the little café.

the night sky above tells you it was late. on the path home, you pass by a sketchy alleyway. decorated in graffiti and trash scattered among the floor. a shadowy figure emerges from the shadows.

“hello, gorgeous.” a homeless man.

you ignore him, picking up the pace so you can avoid the man at all costs.

“don’t walk awayyyy.” the idiot slurs.

“please, stay away from me.” you keep on walking but you can hear his footsteps behind you. anxiety begins creeping through your veins.

“whaaat, i’m not gonna—“

“leave the lady alone.” a third voice said.

turning around, you see miguel standing in between you and the homeless guy.

“s-sorry, man.” the man holds up his hands in surrender. a slightly frightened look on his face before walking away like a coward.

with a stern frown, miguel keeps a cautious eye on the guy until he was completely gone. he then turns around, about to ask if you’re okay but you opened your mouth already.

“you’re following me, now? fucking creep.”

miguel lets out a frustrated groan. “i’m not following you. i just left the boxing gym and was on my way home then i saw you on the way.”

“uh huh, sure.” you narrow your eyes at him.

“ay mujer, when will you fucking believe me for once?” a sigh escapes his lips.

your eyes dart at his outfit. a black tank top and a matching sweatshirt over it. gray motherfucking sweats. strings of hair sticked to his forehead due to sweat. his duffel bag hanging over his shoulder.

fuck, he looks so good. you imagine him boxing, muscles rippling with each punch—

no, can’t have horny thoughts right now.

“what is this? my knight in shining armor? real fucking classic, miguel.”

“wh- no. that homeless guy wouldn’t stop bothering you so of course i had to stop him.”

“oh so what? you want my token of gratitude? sorry, i don’t have a handkerchief on me.” you pretend checking yourself for one. “i’ll just say thank you and goodbye.” you turn around and start walking away.

miguel blinks in disbelief at your childish tactics then proceeds to follow you. “you can’t just keep ignoring me and pretend nothing happened!”

“yes, i can.” you state firmly, still walking away.

“just talk to me!”

“miguel!”

a pregnant pause falls between you two. staring at one another. chests heaving, feeling breathless. your yelling cussed some heads to turn but neither of you care. people continue brushing past you both.

“not here…” you plead softly.

with a sigh, miguel silently nods and you both walk back to your apartment. the tension grew stronger during the silent walk back.

once you stepped foot into your apartment, you force miguel to take a shower because you don’t want his sweaty ass sitting in your living room. he teasing comment about showering together earned him a slap on the arm. his chuckling and smirk on his handsome face makes your skin crawl. he changed into his other set of clothes, different shirt and sweats. you take a shower after him, changing into a nightgown with a silky robe over it.

how the fuck did it get this far? one minute you’re avoiding him like a fucking virus at work, then he’s sitting on your couch after using your shower.

after offering him tea, you hand him is mug then sit down on the other end of the couch, leaving mic space between you two. much to his dismay but miguel understands and respects it.

another long awkward silence before miguel speaks up. “i was really happy i found you…” he glances at you. “i haven’t stop thinking about you since.”

that made your heart skip a beat.

“i really enjoyed spending time with you. i’ve never felt so connected with anyone before. i knew you were special the moment i saw you and i’m glad i decided to go to that dumb party to meet you.” he turns so he’s fully facing you. “believe me, spending time with you is better than any party.”

your heart did multiple summersaults. his words created butterflies in your tummy. never in your life someone had said such heartwarming words to you, nevertheless about you.

“when you left,” you notice his tone changes, a bit more sorrowful. “i was scared i’d never see you again. i asked some friends from the party if they knew you or at least your friends so i could find you. but i got no luck so i…” he pauses for a moment, sighing.

that guilty feeling returns, consuming your body. “i’m… i’m sorry i left. it’s just… i thought it was a one time thing so…” your gaze falters.

miguel frowns, upset but understands. he was about to say something but you continue on. he didn’t mind though. he wants to hear you.

“but the truth is i do feel the same way. i haven’t stopped thinking about you either. our conversations did mean something to me. i’ve never felt so comfortable with someone, especially right off the bat. it felt so nice having a sincere connection because it’s hard to find that with someone.”

you quickly glance up and see his expression softened. it reminds you of those conversations with him that night. how attentive and thoughtful he was.

“the reason why i’m freaking out is because coworkers dating isn’t really looked upon on well.” you tear away from his gaze with a shrug, concealing your embarrassment. “i didn’t want gossip spreading around and affect our jobs. especially you since you just started.” you let out another sad sigh.

that frown returns, but a concern frown. “hermosa…” scooting closer so he’s next to you, he gingerly cups your cheek with a hand, making you look back at him. “i appreciate your concern, a lot. i understand coworker relationships aren’t praised but honestly i don’t care.” he watched your eyes widen. “i don’t care what they say. what i do care about is you.”

your heart flutters, butterflies in you belly.

with both hands, he gently holds your face in his hands like the precious thing is in his palms. “i really like you, querida. i want nothing more than getting to know more of you, if you let me.”

at this point, you heart is beating like a drum. lashes fluttering and cheeks warm. his kind, heartwarming words washes your worries away. finally, you allow your heart to win. gently placing your hands on his wrists, you give them a loving squeeze. “sí.”

the corner of his lips curl up into a smile. a smile that makes your heart swoon. leaning closer, miguel gently pressed his lips on yours in a soft kiss. your hands leave his wrists to cup his face. his hands slowly move down your body, fingers skimming over the fabric of your silky robe waist as the kiss grows more passionate. instinctively, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean closer. his own secured around your waist, tugging you closer to him.

things escalated quickly, growing spicier. soft moans and groans. lips devouring one another. hands roaming around feverishly. left with no patience, miguel quickly rises from the couch and rushes to your bedroom, carrying you bridal style in his arms. your laughs echoing in the hallway.

perhaps everything was going to be fine. as long as miguel is by your side and you by his, no negative comments or criticism will stop you from loving each other. in fact, nothing but praises came your way when your relationship was later revealed.

everything was fine.

◟ ࣪⠀ׅ ♱⠀𝓝ote. i had lots of fun writing this, definitely another fav of mine. kudos to @lazyjellyfish300 for the wrist kissing scene because of her post. thanks for the inspo, queen! ♡

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ♡ @laysmt @felinespark @eatalyy @devotion @miss-canon-event @club-danger-zone @clearlysworld @unhinged-reader-36 @slut4oscarissac23 @hao-ming-8

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

[sturnina]

Jealousy

Chris Sturniolo x Fem!reader

— tags;; mentions of a physical fight & injury, injury tending, fighting, pet name (baby), no use of yn, toxic habits (overprotectiveness)

— wc;; 1282

— author‘s note;; my take on overprotectiveness since i hate the „touch her and you die“ trope, hope you enjoy <3

He did it again.

You don‘t know how to feel as you silently drive home, Chris in the passenger seat, seemingly oblivious to the storm raging in your mind.

He did it again. He hit a guy just because he looked at you weirdly.

Don‘t get me wrong, you love his protective side. It is hot, honestly. The way he always makes sure everyone knows you‘re his girl, the way his arm sneaks around your waist at parties, the way he gets rid of other boys trying to flirt with you.

But this… this wasn‘t protective, this was violent. He hit a guy, for the second time this week. The second time in four days.

Yes, the guy was rude and obnoxious. Yes, you felt uncomfortable around him. Yes, you were relieved when Chris came to your help after the guy wouldn‘t listen to your No’s.

But Chris‘s punch, it wasn‘t protective. It was violent, brutal, merciless. And of course, the guy hit him back, right on his cheek.

When you glance to your right, you can see the dark patch forming on your boyfriend‘s cheekbone.

You arrive home — your house, not the triplets‘ —, and you go to fetch the first aid kit immediately after entering through the front door. Chris trails in behind you, unbothered by his split lip and bruised cheek.

He just sits down at the kitchen table, knowing you will take care of him. Expecting you to.

You take an ice pack out of the refrigerator and settle down next to Chris, all in complete silence. You can‘t bear to hear his voice now, or your own. You‘re afraid it might give your thoughts away. And your eyes, your eyes will surely betray you, so you keep them focused on the ice, the bruise, your hand, anything but Chris‘s eyes. That he is looking at you constantly isn‘t helping.

But eventually, he picks up on your uncharacteristically silent behaviour.

“Hey,” he says softly. “Everything alright?”

You swallow thickly, knowing your voice will give in the second you try to speak. So you remain silent. For exactly three seconds, dabbing a cotton pad at his split lip, before Chris speaks again.

“That dick won‘t bother you anymore.”

Of course, he thinks that‘s the problem. Of course.

“That‘s not what I‘m worried about,” you mutter, stoically keeping your eyes on his injuries.

“You‘re worried about me? Oh, baby, you know I can take care of myself,“ Chris says warmly.

“That’s not… I am worried about you, Chris. You need to stop this. But-”

“Baby, you know I won‘t,“ he mutters, slowly tilting your chin up with the hand that isn‘t holding the ice pack. “Those pricks deserve it.“

“Besides the fact that no one deserves to get beat up, that‘s not what I mean,“ you say, pulling away from him. “You need to stop or you‘ll end up in serious trouble.“

“I won‘t,“ he says softly. “I promise. I just want to teach them a lesson-”

“You‘re not listening to me, Chris!”

“What are you talking about, of course I‘m listening to you,“ he says, his brows furrowing.

“No you‘re not,“ you scoff. “I see the way you look at the guys you‘re going to hit. I‘m not blind. I can see that you want it.“

“Of course I want it,“ Chris says, laying a hand on your arm. “I need to protect my girl-”

“That‘s not what I mean, and we both know it,“ you snap, quickly closing your mouth and taking a deep breath. “I am just an excuse. Don‘t deny it!“

He already opened his mouth but closes it again, worry and confusion clouding his gaze. “Baby-”

“No. Listen to me,“ you interrupt him, trying to keep your tone calm. “You like the confrontation, don‘t you? The adrenaline? But you can‘t see… You don‘t see the way it‘s hurting me.“

Chris‘s expression falters for a moment. “I don‘t- what are you- what do you mean? I don‘t understand…“ he stutters.

“No, you don‘t,“ you say softly, pulling your arm out of his grip and standing up to bring more distance between you.

He really doesn‘t. He doesn‘t understand the way your heart clenches every time a guy even just glances at you in public. He doesn’t understand the way your thoughts start racing even when someone is just walking in your direction. He doesn‘t understand the way you‘re terrified of talking to anyone while out with him — out of fear to trigger his jealousy.

The air feels thick as you look at his expression, his desperate eyes, the bruise on his cheek and his still-bleeding lip.

“Explain it to me,“ he says, “please, what am I doing wrong?“

“You don‘t see the way you‘re hurting me, hurting everyone around you,“ you whisper, your voice just as thick now. The words feel like they‘re stuck in your throat and you have to force yourself to speak them. „I hate seeing people hurt, especially you. I hate seeing you get hurt, and knowing- knowing that it‘s because of me.“

“That‘s not true, baby, I‘m-”

“Please, Chris,“ you whisper, tears collecting in your eyes, “Please let me finish. I hate avoiding to go- to go out in public with you just because I can‘t… I can‘t trust you not to lash out at someone, I hate b-being scared every time someone looks at me or talks to me, I- I just… I hate seeing you angry, I hate seeing you violent, I hate seeing you like that… And yet you- you keep doing it, n-no matter how o-often I ask you to stop…“ Your throat is clogged, your breaths are laboured, your eyes are watering, and you physically can‘t speak anymore, the words having drained out of your head. But there is one sentence left, one you‘re terrified to even think.

And Chris is just standing there, the words burning in his mind, on his skin, digging into his flesh while he tries not to rush to hug you because he knows, he knows it wouldn‘t help. And then he feels the tears running down his face, and the pain ripping through his chest. You don‘t trust him. You can‘t trust him, you said it yourself. You‘re scared of him.

Fists clenching at his sides, he lets that sink in. Everything he‘s done for you, everything he thought he‘s done for you, crumbles under the heavy weight of reality, the realisation that he‘s been hurting you all along.

He steps forward, raises his arms, and sees the way you cross your arms. A shielding gesture. Chris thinks he can hear his heart finally shatter at that, after slowly cracking over the entire conversation.

There are no words he can use to explain himself. He knows he should apologise. But how do you apologise after terrifying your girl over and over again without even noticing? What words are there to express the mixture of frustration, fear, and self-hatred he‘s feeling against himself?

Chris drops his arms to his sides.

He turns around, and leaves.

And you are left alone. The front door slams closed, but you don‘t even flinch. Your mind is full, and so are your eyes, your ears, everything is clogged with memories, everything is breaking inside you, but you are relieved.

You are relieved, because how could you bear his overwhelming presence any longer, with one last question, one last sentence burning on your mind, a question you can‘t ignore but also can‘t speak, not in front of him?

How can you be sure he will never lash out at you? How can you be sure that you will never be on the receiving end of his fist?

masterlist

[yanderefarm]

would silvan like being put in a collar and walked around on a leash?

silvan collared

cw; pet play, dehumanization, suggestive, choking, abuse

the funny thing is that I've already started writing a story where silvan gets dragged around by a leash a little bit. all his collars have to have ribbons on them how else will he look cute :(

i didn't know where to put this in but if you've read the "in the doghouse" manhwa; imagine a scene where you throw silvan's leash and make him go fetch it for you like in that. silvan would be so happy

silvan would love it especially if you made him get on all fours and crawl around like that. just give him one shot to show you he's a good pet!!

walking around the manor whether on his knees or simply being led behind you by his collar feels so intimate. it's like your bedroom activities brought out of the bedroom. you aren't parading him around like a show dog. you want to treat him like a dog. it's all for your own pleasure. when you tug his leash too harshly and he stumbles over his feet that's because you wanted to watch him embarrass himself. making him sit on his knees with his leash in his mouth looking up at you expectantly its for your amusement. just putting the collar on him will make him excited immediately.

being led around a party feels different but not in a bad way. it's less intimate so he doesn't get nearly as excited but that's probably for the best. he's a human show dog and he's proud of that fact. he revels in being led around behind you, everyone staring at the leash in your hand and knowing that he's yours. if he's on his hands and knees he might end up kicked or stepped on but he won't mind. he especially won't mind if he makes a pathetic whimper and you glare daggers into whoever hurt him. he won't want anyone else to touch his leash it's only yours. they can all look at and admire him but no one else can claim him.

in the middle of personally playing with him wrap the leash around your hands a few times and tug him wherever you want him. use your strength to make him dangle off the ground by it. choke him with it. make his collar leave marks in his neck. use the collar to claim him.

silvan would be so happy to be collared because in the end it's so degrading. he loves when you remind him that he's inherently lesser than you. someone strong like a vampire would never be collared and pulled around like an animal, its only because he's weak and less than you that you have the right to own him. that makes him happy.

[lace-coffin]

Heyo friendo, can I perhaps request headcannons for Bubba, Tommy, Asa, and RZ Mikey when giving and receiving comfort from their s/o? Bonus points if male or ftm reader cause we don’t have enough ;-;

Thank you 🩵🩵

How would slashers comfort their S/O on a bad day?

Absolutely, MWAH

Reader is ftm 💖

Trigger warning mainly for Asa- power dynamics/exchange (probably) toxic relationships, the usual for him lol

Also tw for raw meat/hacking at meat/blood

Requests are open!

Bubba Sawyer

Giving

Bubba notices you haven’t been yourself today. Usually he’s the first one up at the crack of dawn, busy tending to the small farm you’ve accrued over time on the sawyer family property. He returns back once the errands are done to find you still in bed, which is unusual for you by this time.

Bubba runs their hands over your cheek softly, murmuring to you quietly, prompting you to get out of bed, only to be met with a groan and the duvet being pulled back over your head. After several minutes of looking around nervously and playing with her fingers anxiously deciding what to do she hauls you over her shoulder.

They are absolutely about to traipse you into the dining room in your boxers and sleep vest in your full glory. He places you down gently on your chair and goes to fetch your food.

Drayton eyes you wearily, wondering why bubba just dumped their boyfriend at the dinner table clad in only boxers. Choptop and nubbins however find it hilarious and snicker until Drayton hollers for them to shut up.

If you’re not feeling up to eating then bubba will encourage you by feeding you smaller bites with the fork. Of course this isn’t without chop and nubbins making gagging noises at the display of public affection. Bubba groans in embarrassment but it’s enough to make you laugh and cheer up a little.

She’ll help you do your daily tasks if your finding it difficult, for example they’ll wash you gently and make sure to give you a nice scalp massage whilst washing your hair if your struggling with hygiene.

They’ll try involve you in activities to take your mind off how your feeling, making bone crafts with her and her siblings and even cuddling their favourite pet chicken.

Receiving

If bubba is having a bad day you’ll definitely know about it. They tend to wear their heart on their sleeve and are open with their emotions.

He’ll come to you as his boyfriend first. If she’s really upset and actively crying please hold them and give them a while to calm down before trying to ask what’s up.

Stimming! Please stim with them, it helps them feel better to shake it out by flapping their hands and making fists. They feel more comfortable and accepted if you join in. Mirroring and doing the same activities is one of their love languages.

Staying with them whilst they do their daily tasks is helpful, feed the chickens with them and the pigs. Maybe have a little cuddle session with the piggies.

If she feels particularly insecure that day then you can help do her makeup and dress up with her. Once he’s donned his favourite yellow dress and you your fanciest suit/button up you can have a little tea party or picnic now you’re both feeling cute.

Choptop and nubbins will complain that it’s lame but still insist in coming (they think it’s fun but are to stubborn to admit it)

Thomas Hewitt

Giving

Tommy spends most of his time either in the basement or out chasing victims so he may not be the best at noticing your upset since he’s absent frequently until the end of the day.

Luda may is confused but slightly honoured when Tommy’s boyfriend came to her teary eyed looking for comfort and advice, not wanting to bother Tommy whilst he’s working.

Luda will slip off later and give Tommy a heads up that you need looking after today. As soon as he finds out he cuts his work short, slamming his cleaver into the table and washing the excess blood from his hands before making his way up to you.

Tommy will try help by giving you deep pressure. Laying his weight on your chest to ground you. He traces his fingers over your palm in little shapes and letters, spelling out words of affirmation and hearts to let you know he loves you in a way he can’t verbalise. However if you’re lucky he may whisper a few raspy words of adoration into your chest as you pet his hair.

If it helps you blow off steam he might let you hack at some of the meat in basement with his cleaver, however only under his watchful eye. Your already upset, he doesn’t need you loosing a finger to.

Tommy will make an extra effort to keep you distracted and away from Hoyt since he can be..snappy to say the least. This can mean your spending time with Tommy on the swing out front or reading to him.

Receiving

Tommy is difficult when it comes to emotions. Years of hiding behind a steely facade as he’s taunted by mean kids or even Hoyt has left him closed off and unsure about being vulnerable.

When Tommy is having a bad day it’s more likely to come out as anger, he finds this easier to channel and disperse since he spends a lot of his time running on agression towards victims and knows how to handle it better than sadness.

The first sign things aren’t right is when he’s not back from his basement work for hours after he usually finishes up. Please go drag him out of there or he’ll work until he exhausts himself.

Having a tender hand and giving him room to vulnerable is the best thing you can do for Tommy.

Let him sign to you what the problem is when he’s ready and try help best you can.

He loves it when you let him snuggle into your chest on your shared bed, your fingers threading through his hair, lovingly detangling any knots or snags in his hair. His mask discarded on the bedside table so he can be skin to skin with you.

Spending time with you and Luda may will be therapeutic for him, he may be grown now but he still loves spending quality time with his mama, and with his boyfriend there it’s even more enjoyable. Play a board game together or cards. (Luda will let Tommy win a few rounds because he’s still her baby, but don’t let him know that :’)

RZ! Michale Myers

Giving

Michael will probably know when your having a tough day before you even do considering he spends most of his time silently observing you, he knows your emotions and habits like the back of his (giant ass) hand.

Mikey makes a point of trying to show his concern via acts of service since verbal and physical emotional aren’t his strong suits. This might mean the covers are pulled back from your bed and your handed a slightly burnt grilled cheese for breakfast. It’s not amazing but he tried lol.

Michael knows you struggle with taking care of yourself on these days and encourages you the best way he knows how. Guiding you to the room you need to be in and standing and staring until you do the task, you can try move past him but he’s like a brick wall in coveralls.

He knows when it’s time for you to take off your binder and let yourself relax. Either he tries his tried and true method of stubbornly staring and insisting you do it or he’ll unceremoniously man handle it off you and throw it aside. He’s not complaining about the view either.

Receiving

Michael tends to stay out for longer if he’s not feeling good. The need to shed blood hitting a peak, eating away at his insides and clouding his mind until he can satisfy it. He’ll return home more dirtied up than usual, caked in slowly drying blood and maybe even dirt if he gets into a scuffle with a hardheaded victim.

Mikey dumps his knife in the sink and shrugs off his dirty coveralls in the laundry room, throwing on some comfy gray sweats and a loose white T-shirt. Adorning his favourite paper pumpkin mask.

He’ll seek you out even if he’s still covered in splats of darkening blood and flop onto you with his full weight, demanding your attention. He’s clingier than usual, this gives you leeway to pamper him.

After a round of cuddles try get Michael into the bathroom to clean him up, despite his preference towards gore he doesn’t actually like feeling grimy, not being able to cope with the sensory issues it brings.

He would feel very cared for if you clean his wounds before getting him in the bath. Run your fingers over his scars and marks from past victims, tenderly kiss his top surgery scars.Mikey will melt under your hands if you detangled and wash his hair for him, especially if you tie it into a bun or ponytail for him to keep it off his neck and face, preventing the sensory issues mentioned earlier.

Asa Emory

Giving

Asa knows some days can be more taxing than others, especially in the situation you two share. Anyones mental health would be fragile considering your literally being kept as a pet to a serial killer. He can see during training that you blindly follow along with instructions with a glassy far away look in your eyes. This won’t do, he needs your full attention. He hates to admit it but your his little bug and he hates to see you hurting when he’s not the one responsible for it.

On days when you feel particularly hopeless about your situation or self he’ll be softer on you. Do not misunderstand, he will still demand your cooperation and obedience/submission but the consequences will be lessened or saved for later when you have the energy and attention to react accordingly.

Asa will bring you with him about his day. Sitting you under his desk with the chain from your collar wrapped around the desk leg. Running his hands through your hair and patting your head as he works. After a while you let your eyes flutter shut as you rest your head on his thigh, drifting off to the sound of his pen scratching along paper.

If you’re lacking in energy or unwilling to eat you will be promoted to his lap instead of your usual spot on the floor at your metal bowl. Asa will hand feed you, insuring you get enough nutrients and prying your mouth open with his nitrile gloves to ensure you’ve swallowed it all.

Asa will take you to his bed instead of your trunk or cage/room.

Receiving

After a long week of experiments succumbing to their wounds and dying on him and finicky traps failing, Asa is more than in a shitty mood. After snapping off his gloves and cleaning himself of any lingering viscera he makes his way over to your room.

His eyes crinkle highlighting his crows feet as he unclasps the trunk your contorted into, happier than ever to see his cricket after the day he’s had.

You know he’s had a bad day as it’s much later than his usual visit and he’s lacking the domineering energy he always exudes, to tired and trodden down to be strict.

Asa finds it therapeutic to do your makeup and dress you up (much like the implications with Abby in the collection)

You’ve learned in your years here it’s wise to be on your best behaviour when he gets this way. Being submissive and compliant is a great relief to him when he feels bad as he doesn’t have the energy to argue with you and will just storm out.

Using more honourifics like “sir” or “master” will get you brownie points and help boost his ego. Use “daddy” if your willing to finish what you started 👀

Curling up on him is ensured to pull at his heart strings and help calm him down. Tell him what a wonderful owner he is and how well he takes care of you. Feed into his god complex and worship him. let him know you’re only committed to him and him alone, you don’t need the outside or anyone else, just his attention. Assert his full control over your being and heart.

Not double checked bc eyes feel like they’re bleeding lmao

[beardedhandstoadshark]

TP Link really is the guy ever.

My man‘s a goofy horse girl who loves goats, sumo wrestles gorons, makes soup for Yetis, collects insects for a girl roleplaying princess parties and holds dogs and cats like puppies, yet almost the entire fandom makes him a brooding edgelord because the color palette of the game is kinda muted and he‘s technically a werewolf.

You can howl songs in this game and he always does a little spin at the end. He plays hide and seek with a town full of cats. He lives in a treehouse and has pictures of goats framed on the walls. You can pet the goats and play fetch with the castle town doggies. He‘s so happy over a cave full of pots to break that they placed the "Happy Link“ Miiverse stamp in said cave. He loves to go shopping in Castle Town. He sticks lit bombs onto arrows to shoot them, and somehow makes it work. He carried a whole barrel of water across half the country with his hands because a Goron was sweating. He sumo wrestles goats, too. He’s a bit of a show-off. If you do any of the sick sword moves he learnt from his dead skeleton gramps and press a, he does a fancy sword sheathing move with a smirk because he feels so cool. He likes to scare the castle town guards as a wolf. He befriends a chicken lady and her flying head son via dungeoncrawling. He set a building full of bombs on fire because of a bug inside. He’s got literal puppy eyes. He let himself get shot off a canon, twice. And got carried away by a giant monster bird, also twice. One of those times was for a minigame where you collect fruit. He eats bee larvae and jello from the ground. He goes snowboarding with the Yetis on a frozen leaf. That he obtains by rolling headfirst into a tree. He shows kindness to strangers as helps out his companion way past what she asked of him even when she was pretty mean because he knows it’s the right thing to do. He defeats the personification of a dead gods‘ anger with a fishing rod he got from his adoptive little bro who wants to be just like him.

TP Link is the guy ever.

[throneofsapphics]

throne pet

poly!Manorian x f!Reader

summary: exhibitionsim with poly!manorian

warnings: reader is a sex worker, smut, light d/s dynamics, exhibitionism

word count: 1746

a/n: I hope you all enjoy! I loved writing this one

kinktober masterlist

​​Dorian Havilliard hired you for the night. 

You’d signed what felt like countless contracts, making sure to read each fine line and detail. Most of them involved not speaking of what happened throughout the ‘event.’ 

You could be trusted for your discretion, but the same couldn’t be said for the others and, you hated to say it, but your king hadn’t always made the best choices when it came to hiring. 

If you were being cocky, you’d say he could’ve consulted you, but it was uncomely to assume the King of Adarlan knew who you were. Knew who most of his subjects were. Although he certainly tried, parading through the city speaking with different business owners. 

However, nobody stopped by the business you worked at for a casual chat. Brothels generally weren’t made for talking. Word had it, his witch would be there as well, and if what you read in those papers a few weeks ago was true, you were to be playing with both of them. There was no reason to doubt the agreement you’d signed.

Either way, your name was on the list when you made your way to the castle gates, clothed in the garments he’d sent the night before, your own cloak covering them. You could hardly wear them out on the streets, not without causing some sort of massive scene. 

A chill snaked up your spine as you crossed the threshold to the castle, exhaling slowly and trying not to look too out of place. The instructions for your arrival, tucked inside the garment you currently wore, were rather vague. 

Meet inside the gates at quarter past seven, the guards will have your name. Someone will meet you there. 

-D.H. 

Thankfully, a servant found you immediately, greeted you with a smile before ushering you off towards a side entrance. 

You were given a room to ‘ready’ yourself however needed. The woman looked rather uncomfortable saying that, and told you’d be expected at eight o’clock sharp. 

As you spun slowly, you decided it was a rather beautiful room. Better than you expected, honestly. 

The three quarters of an hour passed quickly, and the same servant came to fetch you. You passed through unfamiliar halls, trying your best not to gawk at everything, but it was all so damn beautiful. It was hardly fair how quickly the woman was walking, barely giving you a chance to glance at some of the decorations hanging from the walls. 

-

Dorian caught a glimpse of you once, passing by your place of business. He knew, then, that not only did he want you, but Manon would as well as soon as she caught a glimpse. Well, to his best judgment he figured she would. 

Tonight, he was fulfilling a fantasy of hers, with your help. 

Some old habits died hard, or not at all, and he couldn’t resist throwing a party every once in a while – after the country had time to rebuild and settle, of course. He knew rumors spread around the city of them, but not a soul dared to confront him. He almost wished they would, just so he could see the reactions on their face when he told them it was the truth. 

He leaned back in his throne, fingers tapping on the arm, where Manon perched. She’d refused one of her own, preferring to share his. He understood it, they had limited time together. Part of the reason he wanted to give her this gift. 

The doors to the throne room opened, the servant ushered you inside before closing the doors gently behind you. Gracefully, although he saw the slight tremor in your fingers, you strode up the pathway, dropping into a low curtsey before both of them. 

A throne pet, just for the night. 

His bloodthirsty ironteeth witch leaned back and assessed you with a gaze too cool for golden eyes. He could feel her forming a judgment and he’d be lying if he said a bit of nerves didn’t spike through him with it. But Dorian knew her, he knew he’d chosen right with you. 

Manon’s shallow nod gave him an unexpected sense of relief. The show could go on. 

“If nobody has explained yet,” he knew they hadn’t, but part of him wanted to throw you off balance, “you’ll be playing the role of our throne pet for the night.” 

You frowned slightly. Maybe mentally running through the papers he’d had you read and sign? 

“We don't expect you to bark, meow, or wear a tail. I thought ‘pet’ would be a more pleasant word that ‘whore’ or ‘slut,’” Dorian clarified.

The vulgarity turned your cheeks beet red, but you nodded in understanding, a familiar hunger gleaming in your eyes. Maybe those were words you didn’t quite mind. 

-

Unable to resist, you ground back against Dorian as Manon approached. Even your human nose could scent her arousal. The witch didn’t notice, her eyes fixed firmly on you. Rather, on your pussy currently on display. 

Both legs thrown up over the side of the throne, you made quite the sight. 

The party and debauchery raged on around you, but you were well aware everyone in the room had at least one eye on you. Or on the scene playing out in front of them. You couldn’t blame them, you’d probably be watching as well. 

Right now, however, you were a prettily presented package for the Witch Queen, and gods you were in some kind of heaven. 

Manon ran an iron nail down the inside of your thigh. You shivered as she drifted over sensitive areas that, with one sharp flick of her wrist, could cut you open and spill your life out. It thrilled you. She didn't draw blood, instead built sensations along your inner thighs, supplementing each light scratch - that disappeared after a few seconds - with a press of her lips. They were surprisingly soft against your skin. Delicate, even, although you’d never have the courage to say that to her face. 

By the time she crouched, not knelt, before you, you were a squirming mess atop of her lover, his hands firmly gripping your thighs to keep them spread. 

Clothing had been lost nearly an hour ago, as soon as Dorian had decided he wanted to see all of their pet on display for them.

“How do you feel, pet?” Manon purred, voice bedroom ready with a slight rasp.

You whimpered. 

Dorian tutted behind you, “I think she asked you a question.” 

“Good, good, good,” you managed to chant, the only word that made sense. “Please,” you added. 

“If I want you to beg,” she lightly thwacked your inner thigh. “I’ll let you know.” 

You bit down on your bottom lip to keep more pleas from spilling. This wasn’t even like you, you’d never begged before but right now this female and male had you willing to fall to your knees for it. They’d teased you with gentle touches all night, the barest brushes of their skins against yours, as if they were waiting for this. For you, as a desperate and wiggling mess, ready to agree to any terms for release. 

Iron nails retracted, you held your breath. 

“Breathe,” Dorian chuckled in your ear, but you heard the hint of command. Slight embarrassment flushed through you, but Manon had either noticed and ignored, or not noticed at all. You’d bet money on the first option. 

At the first contact you gasped, inhaling deeply. Her fingers spread you open as she lowered her head closer. And stopped. 

Teeth ripped into your bottom lip to keep yourself from whining pathetically. 

She licked one long stripe up the center of your core, hands still spreading you widely. It was a good thing your King had a grip on you from behind, because your body writhed outside of your control, like you’d been possessed by pleasure. 

She repeated the action, twice, thrice, before pausing again. 

“She tastes delicious,” she told the king, and rose over you. Shifting to the side and twisting your head, you watched their tongues swirl together. As he tasted you on her. 

She lowered herself again, this time sucking your clit between her lips, flicking it lightly with her tongue. Talented. Manon Blackbeak was talented. 

Fingers pushed in, curling upward, your eyes rolled back, fingers gripping the King’s forearms with a death grip, nails probably biting in and committing some kind of crime. She sucked on your clit again, harder, pushing her fingers up against your front walls, and you fell over the edge. 

It hadn’t taken long, not with how they’d built you up the entire night, probably without knowing what they were doing. 

“My turn,” Dorian murmured into your ear. “If you’re ready,” 

Were you? For him, absolutely. 

“Yes,” you breathed, and were lifted on your feet. It took him seconds to maneuver you, bending you right over the side of the throne with an urgency you hadn’t seen from the man. Hands scrabbling for purchase, you gripped the opposite arm to keep yourself steady. You had a feeling that the attempt was useless. 

Dorian gripped one hip, you twisted over you shoulder to see his other hand wrapped around a beautiful cock, felt it notch at your entrance as he guided himself inside. 

Fuck. It felt incredible, having him inside of you, filling you up. 

His hips began moving and someone else, in front of you, caught your attention, tapping a finger on your lips. 

The Witch Queen. Momentary panic flooded you. Was she not alright with this? Were you about to lose your head? 

“I want to watch your face,” she murmured, “he feels good, doesn’t he?” 

You managed a nod. He moved faster, any words you might have said left you along with the ability to speak them. 

“You look like a dream,” she said in a matter-of-fact way that made you think she didn’t really believe it, but perhaps that’s just how she spoke. 

For several minutes, the King pounded into you, his hand eventually pressed against your lower back, and you dropped your hands to rest against the seat of the throne, arching your back for him, enjoying the moan that left his lips. 

As he pulled out, spilling himself all over your back, magic quickly cleaning it up, your body went limp against the throne, incapable of movement. 

“You’ll have to hire her again,” you heard the Queen tell the King as he scooped you into his arms.

kinktober taglist: @fourthwing4ever @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @lilah-asteria @nestaismommy @erencvlt @daycourtofficial @emidpsandia @thelov3lybookworm @hannzoaks @callsigns-haze @throneofsmut

general taglist: @rowaelinsdaughter @bookishbroadwaybish @nestaismommy @erencvlt @book-obsessed124 @callsigns-haze @littlest-w01f

[ashthemadwriter-archived]

"Either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"

"Open your mouth for me baby"

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave?"

Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs

Pairing: Fyodor X Fem!Reader

Request: "HIIII I'm here for your September event ! God, I hope it's not too late and you'll take my request (and I hope you're having a good day). So I'll like 17, 1 and 5 with Fyodor. If it is possible a Fyodor... Not very nice, you know, a little psycho. OK it's weird, I hope you will accept T-T Have à great day !!" ◜By dear @concombre-2-mer ◞

Genre: Smut

Format: Fic

Warnings: Explicit smut, Porn with a plot, Orgasm denial, Yandere themes, Toxic relationship, Mean dom!Fyodor, Sub!Reader, French!Reader(Just pretend that you're French if you aren't lol), Lovesick!Reader,Heavy degrading, Praising, Slapping, Choking, Spitting, Dacryphilia, Fingering, Vaginal penetration, Pet names(Dear, Darling, etc), Name calling(Slut, whore, etc), Dirty talk, MDNI, Dark content dead dove do not eat

Word Count: 4.4K (I KNOW)

A/n: Ahhhh this took so long I am very, very sorry. Also, I hope I reach your expectations lol.

Fyodor Dostoevsky, a complicated, brilliant, dangerous man, with so many plans in his head.

You met him at a ball where your dad, the most powerful senator of France, was the host, and he was one of the VIP guests. The second your eyes caught a glimpse of the raven-haired man, your heart missed a beat. It wasn't just about his looks- although you could never overlook how attractive he was. It was the way he calmly witnessed everything and talked in a nice but also careful manner, or perhaps how he smiled elegantly while looking at other people blabbering, like he knew all their intentions inside out- which you found out later that he actually did; nothing can escape this mans sharp eyes.

Whatever the reason was, he had you fascinated by him from the very beginning.

You made the not-so-wise decision to approach him and start a casual conversation, which only made you more curious about this mysterious, fetching man. Your discussion that was supposed to be a short chit-chat lasted for hours, but it couldn't be any other way. You had the same interest, the same likes, the same taste in literature; it was nice having someone who understood what you were talking about and didn't look at their clock every ten seconds as company; nice, and rare.

When the party was over and Fyodor walked you to your room as the gentleman he was, he couldn't miss the hints of lust in your eyes, and how you were looking at him so desirably, hoping he would step inside the bedroom and spend the night with you; but all you got was a kiss goodbye on your cheek and a formal farewell.

That night you couldn't sleep. Between all the tossing and turnings, you thought about the ball. How you found the perfect guy, spent the whole event with him while others were laughing and drinking at the buffet, and how you got rejected in the end. Maybe he was just playing with you after all; just to get information about your father and to take advantage of you, like everybody else had done. He was never interested in you in the first place.

You were wrong.

Not about the information part. He did got the information he wanted through his intellectual methods and you carelessly gave it all away; but for the first time in his life, Fyodor found himself curious about someone, for reasons that weren't involved with his work. He didn't care about your father and his political status anymore, he wanted to know about you; which explained why your phone was ringing with an unknown number showing up on the screen the day after the event.

He asked you to give him a tour around the city and to accept his invitation to a lovely dinner as a thank you gift, and you accepted without giving it a second thought.

Nothing happened that night either.

You were frustrated. Everything was going great, he even smiled at your funny remarks a few times- actually, he was smiling the whole time, examining your expressions with a vague look on his face. But the second you arrived at your home, he was gone again, rejecting your offer to come inside for "a cup of coffee".

Who was this man? Why did he kept doing this? He was not someone you could read his mind easily, you had no idea what was going on through his head; all you knew was that you'd only known this man for two days, and you're already obsessed with him.

Given how many times he had humiliated you, it was stupid to accept his offer for another date the day after again, but you weren't really thinking anymore.

Just like that, you kept going on small dates with each other every night, and he kept refusing to come inside each time; but you were happy that you got to spend time with him; you could always open yourself on your fingers pretending that they're his afterwards. You could see a future for yourself with this man, living in a fancy house together. He would read to you when your head is on his lap, take a bubble bath with you in the bathtub, you could even get yourself a cat. A baby would be nice too, if Fyodor would be down for that...

Little did you know, you were digging yourself into a bottomless hole, which you'll never be getting out of.

Fyodor had the same thoughts as you.

You were so sweet, so kind and lovely. He liked it that you were actually smart, but lost all your senses when it came to him. You were sweetly stupid and it made his heart clench every time he had to drag his feet out of your alley to head back to his empty, cold apartment alone, but it was all part of his plan, and the only key to it was patience, because he needed to make you desperate, to the point that you would kneel and accept everything he tells you to, not needing to be told twice.

And it happened. You found yourself to be at Fyodor's beck and call, agreeing to his every word without putting much thought to it; Even when he asked you to run away with him.

You were skeptic of course; not enough to reject his offer, but you needed to hear him saying it was ok, it was the right thing to do. And he did, assuring you that your parents would never let you come with him if you tell them beforehand, that it's the only option you've got left and you will eventually visit them after a while.

How could you refuse when he was the one asking?

You didn't hear anything from your parents until a few days later, when the tragic accident of fire that had devoured the home of the great senator and the occupants alive got all over the news.

You haven't seen Fyodor for over one week.

Months have passed since the "accident" and your so called "get away", but things have gotten worse, if even changed slightly. You've been kept in a small apartment ever since, and haven't caught a glimpse of the sun for so long, not even through the windows.

Fyodor said it's for your own good, that people who killed your family are after your blood and you need to stay somewhere he can protect you, but you're not sure if sealing the windows are really related to that. You don't have a key to the apartment, even to the rooms; Fyodor has set many ground rules of things you should and should not do, and it's frustrating.

Your patience knows limits, and it might already be at it.

You're lying in front of the TV, with a bowl of ice cream in your hand, looking at some romantic movie in your own language. You watch the people laughing, dancing, making love, but the only thing you feel is one single emotion.

Envy

You're envious of other people. How they go on fancy dates and end up fucking in a public bathroom, while you haven't even kissed Fyodor yet. You don't have the faintest idea why he asked you to come with him in the first place. That's what Fyodor does to you, always keeping you in the dark and only coming back when he decides it's the right time.

Him, not you. Your opinion does not matter one single bit.

Sighing, you turn the TV off and put the empty bowl on the table. You're already way too depressed, you don't need to see other people's happiness and regret about your own choices.

But that's the problem. You don't regret anything. You don't regret taking Fyodor's hand when he offered you a dance at that part, you don't regret spending time with him and having wet dreams about him at nights, you don't regret agreeing to come to this place;

you even know that he was the one who slaughtered your entire family, but you decide not to think about anything other than him because sometimes, ignorance is a bliss.

As you lean back to the couch, you wonder where your boyfriend- if you can even refer to him as that, is right now. What might he be doing? Is he planning another murder? Is he on a date with another poor woman to manipulate her, use her and then just throw her away like she's worth nothing? Is he holding her hand and whispering sweet promises about the future to her?

Ah, you just remembered.

His hands.

Fyodor has long, skinny hands and stretched, pale fingers. You admire the way his veins lay bare under his skin when he holds a coffee mug or writes a letter. His nails are always cut shortly, exhibiting his smooth skin and how he takes care of them. His hands are cold, not at a shivering state but cold enough for you to offer him your gloves, or just hold them to warm them up.

God, you can't wait to hold his hands again, and to feel them inside you once he finally gets around to it.

Sliding your hand in your pants, you close your eyes and imagine how his fingers would curl up and massage your sweet spot, dragging pleasure outside of your cunt. Will he be gentle, taking his time, making love to you? Or is he the kind to be rough and would make you scream his name by the end of the night? It's your call, since this is all an illusion and he isn't actually here.

Fyodor hates masturbation. He told you that once you brought the topic up on one of your dates. He thinks that it's pathetic, useless, and offending to a person's partner, But Fyodor isn't here; it's only you and your pitiable moans filling the room.

You whisper his name as you scissor yourself open on fingers that are actually supposed to be his, but unfortunately, they're attached to the pathetic body of yours. Tears find their way out of the corner of your closed eyes, staining your cheeks, and you wish he was here to wipe them off your face, plant a kiss on your forehead and say how well you're doing for him.

I miss you so much, Fedya…

You feel getting closer to your orgasm as your fingers speed up, but the sensation isn't nice, not as much as it would be when he's the one helping you out; yet this is all you're going to get for now, so you shouldn't complain and just take it.

With a cry out of his name, you come. Arousal covers your fingers and you have no choice but to clean them up with your mouth. Your whole body stings and you just lie there, panting and half way through crying. What would he do if he was here? Would he scold you? Punish you? Or say something like...

"What are you doing?"

Until a few minutes ago, you thought that when he comes back, you'll jump into his arms, kiss his face over and over while telling him how much you've missed him, and that he should bring you along with him everywhere he goes; but now that he's actually here, you just want this to be a mirage.

It isn't.

You desperately open your eyes and tilt your head toward the doorway, only to look at the tall man standing there through your blurry vision.

Fyodor is as handsome and terrifying as ever. There's a bouquet of roses in his hand, and he's wearing his usual outfit, an Ushanka and a black cloak. Everything looks the same as ever, except for the look on his face.

You expect him to be angry, to shoot daggers your way; but through the violet shades of his penetrating eyes, you find another emotion; one that intimidates you more than his anger and sends shiver down your spin.

Disappointment.

You stay silent and keep staring at his figure with widened eyes. Fyodor doesn't scold you. After a few seconds, he slowly walks toward you and places the roses on the table, standing next to the couch.

"May I take a seat?"

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

"S-sure, do as you wish"

He calmly makes himself comfortable on the couch, while you nervously curl yourself up against your side. Feeling like you need to explain yourself, you want to say that it's not what it looks like, but you know you would only tie yourself up in knots. Besides, it's exactly what it looks like, and Fyodor isn't stupid.

With an expressionless face, he points at the flowers on the table.

"These are for you"

Roses are your favorite type of flowers. Sitting there with your legs crossed and your arms wrapped around your shins, you sense his thoughtful gesture to be a slap in the face. Guilt and fear makes your heart ache yet you don't have the guts to start crying again.

You didn't want him to come back. Not like this.

"Ah, thank you..."

He couldn't have heard you since you mumbled so quietly, but he's got sharp ears. You look unsure when you stretch your arms out to pick the flowers up, but when you sniff them, your face brightens up with delight.

"They are lovely"

"So, care to tell me why you were calling out for me like that?"

He's not going to let it slide, is he?

"Nothing. Where have you been?"

"Answering my question with another one? I see"

While you struggle to breath, he takes his Ushanka off and places it between you, and all you do is watching him carefully for a reason you're unaware of yourself, but he probably is, since he's a mine of information and knows every twist and turn of your brain.

"To answer your question, I could say I was tying up a few loose ends. But fill me in, dear; was I hallucinating earlier? Because, either I'm insane or you were just masturbating in our living room"

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but words seem to have been erased from your mind and your tongue doesn't roll in your mouth as it did before. When he doesn't hear a response, he flashes you a pitying look and shakes his head.

"No comeback? You're not even denying it"

How long was he standing there anyway? Was he there from the beginning? Because god, if he was then you don't want to face him ever again.

"You know dear, I thought that we should wait until we were in a better place; but if you're so eager... I shouldn't keep you waiting for so long"

Ah, what?

When he catches you staring at him, like you're unable to believe your ears, he merely smirks; standing up and taking the direction to your bedroom.

"Aren't you coming, sweetheart?"

"I'm... coming..."

You don't have a clue of what is going on, still, you've waited for this moment from the year dot; you won't be letting it pass this easily.

As you enter the bedroom, the sight of Fyodor taking his cloak off catches your eye. He takes a peek at you from the corner of his eye, only to find you standing next to the wall awkwardly.

"What are you waiting for? Get undressed"

"...Ok"

Stripping out of your clothes, you feel slightly embarrassed when your whole body is exposed to him for the first time, and his eyes scanning you up and down are not exactly helping.

Fyodor pauses a little, like he wants to say something but he's not sure if he should; then looks you in the eye.

"Get on the bed"

You obediently listen to his demand and lie down on the bed, getting excited when he follows you to hover on top of you. He gently cup your cheek with his hand, and cracks a smile.

"I don't think I've ever told you how pretty your eyes are, Darling"

You blush at his sincere comment that gives you enough courage to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him down a little so that your lips are only inches apart. The idea of you initiating the kiss doesn't even cross your mind; Fyodor is the one in charge and he has to have control over everything. Thankfully, he's kind enough to not push you away this time, playing along by attaching his lips to yours, kissing you passionately. And you kiss him back with so much desire and longing, like you did every night before going to sleep in your imaginations. You won't be doing that anymore, now that you have the real thing.

Not only Fyodor doesn't stop you when he senses your hands on his body, trying to unbutton his shirt, he even helps you out with some of them. You smile into the kiss when you feel a certain "something" pressing against your core, which doesn't go unnoticed by him.

"You sure get cocky, But I don't blame you dear; you certainly taste nice"

"Mhm... Touch me more, Fedya"

The mans face breaks into a mischievous grin. He places his hand on your collarbone, lightly rubbing it with his thumb.

"You want me to touch you more, Darling? Where do you want me to touch you?"

His hand roams down on your body, until it reaches to your boobs, And cups one of them.

"Here? or..."

You let his limb wander on your body, thrill taking over you as you anticipate where its destination might be. A soft moan skips your lips when he finally cups your womanhood, fingers teasing your clit.

"Maybe here? Hmm?"

"Fedya…"

"Yes, honey?"

You look at him with plead through your dewy eyes.

"Stop teasing and just give it to me, ok? I've been waiting for so long..."

Fyodor briefly examines your face and his small slowly fades away. You feel shaken by his sudden change of mood, wondering if you said something wrong.

"I will; but, do you think you deserve to be touched? You looked like you were having so much fun with your own hands back then"

As his gaze pierce through your soul, you find yourself to be in dire straits. Despite the position you're currently in, you know you should rack your brain and say something acceptable, or else you won't see the light at the end of the tunnel, or even tomorrow anymore.

"I'm... Really sorry about that... I guess I was just under so much pressure, you looked like you weren't attracted to me and you were gone for a quite amount of time... But It won't happen again, You have my word. I really am sorry"

As you wait for him to react to your genuine confession, his stare becomes more gentle, a ghost of a smile appearing on his lips.

"I know you are Darling, I know you are"

His fingers lightly rub circles on your clit to make your mind go numb while he deeps his face in the place between the pillow and your ear, making you shiver every time his lips brush against your earlobe.

"Tell me y/n; which feels better? My hand or yours?"

You choke a moan out as his digits slide inside with the help of the arousal from your lewd activity earlier. They are longer than your fingers; longer, professional, and more importantly, they belong to him.

"Y-yours of course, Fedya"

"Good girl. That's what I thought"

Fyodor doesn't hurry anything. His moves are calculated, and with each shove, his fingertips hit just the right spot. As you whine and hold him closer, you think about something more exciting. When he can make you feel this good only using his fingers, god helps you when he unzips his pants and opens you up on his probably lengthy cock...

Which makes you brave enough to ask him, because if he fingers you for a little longer, you'll probably come and the chance to make him feel good will slip away from your hands.

"Fedya honey..."

"What is it, Love?"

"I need to feel you inside me"

His smile looks dazzling.

"Aren't I already inside you, dearest?"

"You know what I mean!"

Pulling his fingers out, you almost regret asking him to do so, but you try to comfort yourself since he's gonna stuff you with something better and you won't be feeling empty for long.

"Alright then; but first, open your mouth for me baby"

Deeming he probably wants to clean his digits up, you part your lips to help him out, but instead of fingers, he leans closer and abruptly spits in your mouth. You're stunned, but you still swallow it down your throat under the proud look in his eyes.

"So perfect for me, Myshka. Now, lie down and relax. Let me handle things from this point"

As if he wasn't already.

You can't believe your eyes when he uncovers his member from his pants. It's not the thickest cock, but the length is definitely quite something.

Fyodor smirks as he catches you staring. He adjusts himself on your entrance and casts an eye on your expression.

"Does my darling like what she sees?"

"Yeah..."

"I bet you'll like it more when I'm fucking your cunt"

Yeah, no shit.

With a bright groan, he pushes himself into your hole. Your pussy is slick enough to devour his dick, but also tight enough to send pleasure his way. He has a breather before thrusting in and out you, find the steady rhythm and the perfect place to hit inside, making your eyes roll at the back of your head.

While Fyodor does everything, holds you in place, sucks hickeys on your neck and rubs your right nipple with his fingers, all you do is whine, hug him tightly and hover your legs over his back. You would've felt disturbed by how cold his body was; but you don't feel troubled, not even the slightest bit. There is no way you would feel like that when he makes you feel so warm inside. Its not just about fucking- it's about him, coming back to you, to understand the pain you went through, and make the most memorable night as a reunion. In this cold bed, you find your body and your heart getting warmed up by this Russian man's love and affection.

Fyodor fastens his pace at plunging in your pussy, meanwhile his tongue rolls around on the sensitive spot on your neck. It's unbelievable how he knows your body like the back of his hand while this is the first time he gets to lay a hand on you. You don't know whether to moan at his cock pounding inside your tight cunt, or at how he doesn't stop marking you up as his belonging.

"A-ah... Fedya… I'm getting close..."

"I can feel it, love. C'mon darling, Come for me. Show me how much you like it when I make love to you"

His praises send you over the edge. You feel so close, this unholy feeling is so addictive and you never wanna let go. Your body is firing up, you start shaking and you're only a little away from your release; which you'll surely get there soon, with Fyodor whispering sweet things in your ear.

"You're doing so good, Milaya…"

"So pretty for me, sweetness"

"Come for me, baby"

"Come for me, beautiful"

"Come for me"

"Come for me"

"Come for me"

You are literally on the verge of breaking apart on his cock, one second away from releasing all over him and make a mess out of his lower abdomen. You close your eyes and ready to feel the orgasm wash over your stress and sorrow and make you complete again; but in a split second, you feel a tremendous amount of pain, due to the sudden emptiness of your hole.

You feel miserable when Fyodor's length leaves your orgasm undone, and when you open your eyes to know the reason, you're met with the emotion you were searching for not so long ago.

There's the anger and daggers he was saving from your stare, to let them appear at the right time.

Now.

"Do you think you deserve to come, y/n?"

All the warmth you were feeling a while ago, all the heat and certainty was gone; now it's only fear and pain, germinating in your heart, making your chest ache.

His look is dangerous. It's not just anger. It's everything. Fury, disappointment, disgust. For the first time since you met Fyodor, you feel so scared, to your fingertips.

His grip around your throat snaps you back into reality.

"I'm talking to you, slut. Do you think you deserve to come? After what you were doing on my couch, shamelessly touching yourself like some common whore?"

You don't say anything. You can't. You can't even breath. You can't even if he let's go of your throat. You just want to die.

"Ungrateful little bitch. You're so full of yourself. So needy and pathetic. It grosses me out. What do you want me to do? To treat you like the princess you are? To turn a blind eye to your scandalous behavior and make your every wish come true? You think you're still in your daddy's house?"

"N- no- no- I- no-"

His hand finally let's go of your throat, but just as you're about to gasp for breath, his palm lands on your cheek.

"Don't talk back to me. I didn't give you permission to talk yet"

You only stare at him with disbelief, unaware of the tears that have been falling from your eyes from the moment his attitude changed.

It was never about you.

Never about affirming you.

Never about comforting you.

From the very first moment Fyodor set foot in the house, he came to torture you.

"Do you know what happens when you misbehave, precious?"

He knew what you were doing. He has always known.

And yet, you love him with every inch of your soul. With every breath coming out of your lungs.

"Worthless woman. I should throw you out in the streets, where you belong to. You'll die eventually, if some guy doesn't rip your throat apart. Is that what you want, woman? You want freedom? Help yourself! Get out of my sight and never come back again"

"No! I'm sorry! I won't ever do that again! I promise- !- Please! Please- I swear- Please believe me, Fedya!"

Another slap, landing on your other cheek.

"Don't say my name with that filthy, disgusting mouth of yours. Know your place"

You don't say anything anymore. As he keeps stabbing you with heartbreaking words, you only sob and bite your bottom lip so that your whimpers wouldn't interrupt him.

Fyodor looks at your pathetic state, and clicks his tongue. He gets up and picks his clothes from the ground, shooting a warning glare at you.

"Now, I want to see you try to masturbate again"

And with that, he leaves you in the bed, shattered into pieces.

It will never be about you,

And you hate yourself for not hating this, until the day you die.

All rights reserved © 2023 AshTheMadWriter. Please do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works on any platform.

[princessbrunette]

a week in outfits: puppy!reader edition ♡

monday

puppy!reader is working at the pet shop. she likes her job a lot, as she has lots of energy to be interacting with all the animals and customers. however, she often gets upset when animals get sick or no one will adopt them — which causes her to return home in tears, calling up john b to ramble about how they need to get a dog together. he gently shuts it down and suggests a new job.

tuesday

john b picks puppy!reader up the next day for some kind of stake-out. he’s in full-on mission mode, which of course she finds sexy — so if she’s not pulling random things out her pockets to show him, she’s pawing at him and distracting him from the task at hand. he’s not totally cruel though, he’ll give her a quick dicking down in the back of the twinkie before picking up the rest of the pogues to pursue the mission.

wednesday

john b has to go and partake in something dangerous, alone as to not put you in danger. therefore, to make sure you stay behind and behave he sends jj to take you fishing. its an affair of you throwing yourself into the water at random, shouting “IM DROWNING” when you’re really not, and sending him back to the chateau to fetch ice popsicles. he has fun, even if you’re a handful.

thursday

john b returns to the chateau where the rest of the pogues gather to debrief his new findings. puppy is not too involved, honestly — simply minding her business and running around bringing everyone snacks. she often get bored and ends up on his lap as he rambles away, missing when all the attention was on her.

friday

kegger time! puppy loves parties, she thinks they’re so fun and is super sociable especially when she gets drunk (which is after literally one drink — and has to be forcefully stopped from making friendly conversation with rafe. no one knows why she’s the only pogue he likes and will even pose for her pictures on her little polaroid before getting dragged off and scolded) on behalf of her, everyone regrets the option to wear something strapless as she’s constantly on the verge of popping a titty. john b is stressed, constantly fixing her shirt for her — jj’s even stressed, pope is definitely stressed, having to yank her shirt up when john b is preoccupied. she goes missing for a small portion of the night, only to be found again by jj — dragging her back to the party by the scruff of her neck.

saturday

as puppy had drunkenly expressed that she was upset that john b had been taking off and not giving her much attention lately the night before, he plans a cute little chill date night at the chateau to apologise for neglecting her. they watch their favourite movies, eat greasy pizza — and like always, puppy ends up on his lap, barely able to get any of her clothes off as she humps away.

sunday

lazy day running errands with her bf. shes tired from the eventful week, for once not bouncing off the walls and instead insisting on napping on him — but john b drags her outside anyway to buy some groceries for the week ahead.

[oh-stars]

Boring

Love is wanting to tell someone every little detail of your day and wanting to hear about theirs.

a @steddielovemonth prompt | 1309 words | CW: N/A | Rating: G

--

Steve isn’t exciting. He knows this, he’s always known this. It’s why he hides behind fake smiles and follows the same beat as the rest of his peers rather than finding his own path like Eddie. He follows the local teams because that’s what everyone else did; he listens to pop music because that’s what’s played at parties and the first thing he hears when he turns on the radio; he wears boring clothes because his mom buys it for him and he actually likes how they look on him. 

It’s not something he put a lot of thought into until he started hanging out with Dustin and his friends, only growing when Robin came into his life and then it became this glaringly obvious problem when Eddie took an interest in him as a friend. Steve likes the mainstream, everyday boring shit that makes him blend into his peers, and fully fade to the background when he’s around his wonderfully eccentric new family. 

And now that he and Eddie are more than friends, Steve feels even more inadequate. 

His date ideas are cheesy and stereotypical. His ambitions in life start and stop at having a family in the future (which has changed since he was a kid – now he doesn’t equate having a family to a wife and 2.5 kids, but rather a cozy little life with his partner, maybe a few pets, and any nieces or nephews the party gives him. As long as he has Robin in his life and a partner, be it a wife or husband, who actually loves him, he’ll be content). Steve doesn’t have any passions he can turn into a career, and the few he did have, it’s far fetched or his body couldn’t keep up anymore even if he had the chance. 

Then there’s Eddie who shines so brightly and takes up so much space with every ounce of his personality. He has so many hobbies that could become actual careers, too many choices for him to pick from that there have been plenty of nights where he’s stayed up and talked Steve in circles over his choices. He has such strong opinions about everything, could rant for days about the lint he found in the dryer if he needed to. Nancy always says he’d be a great Phillip-buster, whatever that is, because he can just keep going without losing steam. 

He’s incredible and Steve is decidedly not. 

It’s something he ponders on his way home, nodding along to the Springsteen song playing on the radio as he heads for the trailer. It’s been a great day, one of Steve’s better ones lately, and he’s itching to revel in its many wonders with Eddie when he gets home. Nothing exciting happened, just a lot of little, wonderful moments that feel perfect to Steve. 

But they’re boring. He knows that. 

When he was a kid, he used to hear his grandparents talk about the most mundane things. His grandmother would fill his grandpa in on all the gossip she gathered from their neighbor or the way the price of milk went up at Bradley Big Buy. She’d have serious conversations with him about whether they should switch grocery stores or if going to one of the farms directly for their produce was a better idea. And in turn, he’d complain about the squeaky wheel on the mail cart at work or would go into detail about how lovely the lunch she packed him was, complimenting the sandwich like it was made of gold. 

They were the perfect couple in Steve’s eyes. He’s always wanted what they have. But his grandparents were so similar, they shared interests in ways that Steve and Eddie don’t. On paper, Steve and Eddie should clash and he knows opposites attract and all, but it doesn’t mean you want a life with them. 

So he holds in his excitement about his day. He’s just happy to have Eddie to come home to at all, that he’s allowed to just walk into the trailer and be a part of Eddie’s life. 

He parks next to Eddie’s van and pockets his keys. 

Eddie’s waiting for him by the door, perched on the dining chair. “Thought you’d be coming home soon,” Eddie says with a grin as he pops up. He loops his arms around Steve’s neck and kisses him, so sweet and soft. Another addition to Steve’s perfect day. 

Steve can’t keep the smile off his face. “I missed you,” he says, even though it’s probably too much, too sappy for Eddie. 

Instead of wrinkling his nose and making a snide comment, Eddie’s arms tighten around him as he beams, eyes crinkling with how wide his smile is. “I missed you too.” Another kiss, this one a little longer and deeper before Eddie’s pulling away with a peck. “C’mon. I’ve been losing my mind being here all by myself,” he laments, hanging from Steve a little. 

“Where are we going?” Steve asks as Eddie straightens up to drag Steve to the couch. He gets pushed onto one side as Eddie takes the other, sitting cross-legged and sideways so he can stare directly at Steve. 

“Okay,” Eddie says seriously, “tell me everything.” 

“What?” 

Eddie nudges Steve’s knee. “About your day. I want the…” His brow furrows as he looks up at the ceiling, eyes glazing over as he thinks. “What’s the sports thing I’m thinking of? With the scripts?” 

Steve cocks his head to the side. “A play?” 

“Yes!” Eddie snaps his fingers and bounces a little. “I want the play-by-play.” 

“Are you sure?” Steve asks, quiet despite the way his heart is picking up. “It was just a day at Family Video. It’s not like I’m a doctor or something more exciting.” 

Eddie leans forward and cups his hands over Steve’s face. “Everything you do is exciting to me, baby. I like seeing the world through your eyes. So yes, tell me everything,” he says, leaning forward with each word as he squishes Steve’s cheeks. He ends it with another peck, then two more like he can’t help himself. 

Steve laughs, but twists his body to mirror Eddie’s. “It’s been a great day,” he admits, eyes drawn to the loose thread on Eddie’s cushion. “Robin brought me coffee from that new shop on Main and her dad dropped off donuts for us on his way to work. Then Mrs. Peterson came in and she wasn’t a demonic she-beast from the underworld and was actually lovely for once,” Steve says. 

“Mrs. Peterson?” Eddie gasps. “The same woman who yelled at me for almost two hours for biking through her yard as a kid?” 

“The very one,” Steve says. “I think Rob and I were both too stunned to speak for a good thirty minutes after.” 

Eddie shakes his head, eyes bright with genuine interest – almost like he’s mystified. “See, this is the shit I wouldn’t believe if it came from anyone else but you.”

“What’s that mean?” Steve asks, softer but not harsh like he thought it would sound. Not that he wants to – he just knows how he comes off sometimes. 

“You,” Eddie says, poking Steve’s chest, “are special. You always bring the best out of people, man. Including grouchy old ladies who sold their souls to the devil for fresh gardenias in their flowerbeds.” 

Steve laughs and tilts forward so he’s practically in Eddie’s lap. They shift quietly so Steve’s laying on Eddie fully, arms wrapped around his middle. “You make it sound like I’ve got something exciting to say. It’s just boring shit.” 

“That’s where you’re wrong. You, Steve Harrington, are so far from boring,” Eddie whispers against his ear. 

And deep down, Steve thinks he may actually believe him. 

Steve lifts his head to kiss Eddie’s cheek. “Your turn. Tell me something about your day.” 

--

Thank you @lady-lostmind for betaing!

Ao3 Link

[jifanjiang0710]

Dinner with the Stellaron Hunters

yandere kafka x reader x yandere blade

“SILVER WOLF!”

Your fists start to hurt from all the pounding. She’s locked her door again. “Time for dinner!” She can definitely hear you. Whether she responds or not is her choice.

“Boss fight!” She yells back.

“Come downstairs quickly!” Scurrying down the flight of stairs, you stop at Blade’s room. An ominous reddish glow is emitting from under the door, reeking of death… or is it your imagination? You raise your hand to knock, before a voice from behind sends chills down your spine.

“What are you doing?”

Turning to meet his scowling visage, ever-unchanging (SW likened him to an NPC), you see Blade glaring down at you, and neither of you speak.

“…dinnertime.”

He slinks off.

You groan irritably. You do everything in this house. Thankfully, Kafka is already at the table.

After a quick scan of the seating, you heave a sigh of relief. There is a seat at the table between Kafka and Blade. Thank the aeons. As you head for the spot, Silver Wolf plops herself down onto the chair in all her glory, eyes not leaving the handheld console. You stare dumbfounded for a minute, partly at the audacity, the rest a growing conflict arising from within you.

The most vexing decision of the night: sitting next to Kafka, or Blade. Only one party can be sated, and the other will then shower you with the fruits of their displeasure for the rest of the night. Tread lightly in this delicate situation.

Choose Kafka, who lets her fingers glide up your thighs, particularly when you are drinking; who whispers vile things in your ear as you try to focus instead on the noises from Silver Wolf’s console; who sometimes holds a spoon to your mouth and expects you to say ahh...

Or choose Blade, who barely tries to hide his growing fascination with you at this point; whose fiery eyes bore into you carrying a heavy sort of intensity that cannot be described; who you know has no qualms about cornering Kafka’s favourite pet and finding out just what makes you so special to her.

The purple-haired woman notices your hesitance, chuckling breathily. She takes the initiative to beckon you over, with a single curl of her fingers. You trot towards her, deeming her, just for tonight, the lesser of two evils. Then you catch sight of his gaze. It’s a warning and a threat, all expressed within a single flash of the eyes.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“I- I….” You feel yourself starting to sweat at this minor conundrum. How can you defy a direct order from Kafka?

She sighs, evidently disappointed at your lack of decisiveness. “Oh, go on. I’m sure Bladie deserves you for just one night, with how long he has been eyeing up what’s mine.”

The tension builds, and you bite your tongue. That sentence was biting, indirectly instigating another cold war between both hunters. So, gathering up stray remnants of courage you take a seat next to him.

The atmosphere is even more strained.

“Ah…how is your hand?” You direct the question to the man sitting beside you, glare turning less pointed. “Has it healed?”

“Yeah,” SW says suddenly, accusatory. “How is your hand?”

He sighs, irked. “Still healing. Isn’t it obvious?” For it was still wrapped in bandages.

“Blade, our supply of bandages is depleting. The others need them too. Is it really necessary to cover your torso?” He can very well heal himself should the need arise, and any pretense on his part is to avoid having to game with Silver Wolf. Blade ignores you, as if you’d committed a crime against him personally.

Kafka is unusually quiet.

You chide Silver Wolf to finish off her broccoli.

“Oh dear. Little one?”

Her sudden shift of attention to you makes you jump. “Yes, Kafka?”

“Will you be a dear and run off to fetch a cloth for me? I seem to have spilt some soup onto my lap.”

Blade watches intently as you fuss over her, asking whether there are burns, if she is alright, and run off to pour another bowl for her.

His fists clench, tightening around the bowl. “That was intentional.”

“What an astute observation, Bladie. And do you keep your uninjured hand bandaged so my little one may continue clouding their pretty little head with concern for you?”

“They do not enjoy being toyed with, treated like the fragile doll you make them to be.”

“And they don’t seem to like treading on eggshells whenever you are in the vicinity either, or stared down in the way a rabid beast would reserve for its prey.”

“You think you are almighty, Kafka-”

“Oh, but I am. Everything I orchestrate, as I predict, shall come to fruition.”

“Just because you claim control over me, you will not be the most powerful, nor the most infallible. You know just as well as I do, Kafka, and even you cannot deny it. [Name] would be better off anywhere but with you.”

“And if Elio were to say otherwise? Will you continue deluding yourself in such pitiful manner?”

A sharp noise of a crack emanates as the bowl chips under his grip. “…very well.” Blade says, after a second of contemplation. He looks up at the woman opposite of him, the intensity of his gaze like piercing wind, “Let us ask Elio.”

Kafka does not answer, but the slight stiffen of her lower lip speaks volumes. She crosses her arms.

“Listen, Bladie-”

“Enough! Kafka, what did I say about commanding Blade? And Blade, that’s the third one you’ve broken this month. Please be more careful.” The two tear their gazes away from each other.

“My mistake, little one,” Kafka responds breathily, as though this matter were of minimal importance to her.

“I think I cut my finger from the shard,” says Blade.

You turn towards him, raising an eyebrow. He clears his throat, trying to appear innocuous. “…it hurts.”

“Do you need a bandage? You seem to have an abundance of it.” A petty remark by that woman, intent on having your attention solely focused on her.

He meets your eyes. “It still hurts.” On the surface, what with his deadpan expression, it sounds like a command, an order to tend to me. You hear it for what it really is, a plea for attention.

“Aw, fine. Give me your hand. Where does it hurt?”

Kafka’s turn to watch on as you examine his (supposedly) injured finger. You feel an odd sensation of impending doom…

“May I be excused?” Without giving you time to respond, the young gamer stands, tossing her plate into the sink and scampering upstairs once again. You look down and see that your own bowl has been piled suspiciously high with vegetables.

This girl… You sigh, but do not protest this time.

For the night, the Stellaron hunters disperse.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On a more wholesome note:

His phone buzzes. Fumbling a bit with the home screen, he swipes. It’s a message from Kafka.

That Woman: Kys

She receives a reply in return.

Bladie: One day I will.

‘I can only eagerly await that day’

‘As will I.’

‘You’re lying, Bladie~’

‘What.’

‘You no longer want to die, do you?’

‘Good night.’

‘Ah, don’t chicken out. They make you, for the first time in a long time, want to live. I can tell. You’re intrigued.’ ‘…’ ‘Hello?!’ ‘Leaving me on read again?’

He sets the phone down, sighing deeply.

The window shutters are half closed, swaying gently in the breeze. There is a dim starlight scattering the night sky. It reminds him of a home he had lost a long time ago. The wind picks up, blowing away a stray strand of hair off his shoulder.

He does not know how he got there, but his shadow looms over your room door. After some hesitation, he knocks.

[berryhobii]

Namjoon as your werewolf boyfriend….

* Follows you around EVERYWHERE

* To the bedroom, to the kitchen, to check the mail

* Even to the bathroom (he’ll just wait outside for you)

* Hovers around you while you cook

* Always eager to taste anything and everything

* He’ll sometimes try dipping a spoon into something when you’re not looking

* “Hey! No!”

* Then here comes the pout and the teary eyes

* And because you are oh so very weak to him, you’d relent and let him taste

* Then he’s happy again and you fall a little more in love with him

* He’s practically a big lap dog in both his human and wolf forms

* When you’re relaxing on the couch or in bed, he’ll come and plop himself right on your lap

* When he’s in his human form, you don’t mind it as much

* But his wolf form is 10 times larger and furry

* You always insisted on getting a bigger couch but he’d just say

* “But this is our first couch together. It has sentimental value.”

* Him and his big heart

* Ugh you loved and hated it

* The ash colored wolf would stalk from somewhere, following your scent to the living room

* You’d be watching television or playing a game on your phone when suddenly your vision would be blocked by a mass of fur

* He’d be careful of his nails to not hurt you, climbing onto the too small couch for some cuddles

* “Oof. Namjoooooon. You’re heavy.”

* He’d just huff as if saying “don’t fat shame me”

* Knowing there was no moving him once he was comfortable, you just had to accept your fate

* Sighing, you’d lean your head on his back, focusing back on your phone or the television

* Eventually you’d mindlessly start petting him, running your fingers through his soft fur

* Something new you learned about his fur was that he doesn’t need to wash it since he gets a new coat everytime he shifts

* Crazy right?

* (Do y’all ever think about that type of stuff with werewolf au’s?)

* Anyway

* He’d relax under your ministrations, a deep and content rumble vibrating in his chest

* If you were feeling down in the dumps, he’d play fetch with you

* He sort of hated acting like a dog but seeing your happy face everytime you threw the ball made it all worthwhile

* One time you tried to convince him to dye his fur red and be Clifford for Halloween

* That was a big no

* “We could be little red riding hood and the big bad wolf.”

* “I’m not a stereotype, y/n.”

* “You’re literally watching birds right now.”

* “Bird watching is a very popular hobby!”

* “Yeah…..for dogs…”

* You did convince him to dress up but he decided to be little red riding hood

* That means you were the big bad wolf and the opportunity was too good to pass up

* “My my, little red. You look good enough to eat.”

* He froze up at the feeling of your claw like nails running up his broad shoulders

* “B-baby…”

* He turned to face you, already finding you on your knees before him

* Your golden colored contacts stared mischievously at him

* Hands gripped the edges of his loose fitting pants, pulling them down his legs

* He grunted when your warm palm enclosed around his growing shaft

* “We should really get to the party…ah.”

* Your tongue darted out to lick at his head, the saltiness of his precum sparking your taste buds

* “What’s the rush, little red?”

* When you were in public, he went from a sweet baby to an overprotective boyfriend

* Your scary dog privilege let you walk around without worry

* Sometimes if you wanted to go somewhere at night, he’d shift into his werewolf form and trail along side you

* Even other dogs would scamper out of his way and creepy men didn’t even look in your direction

* No one really knew werewolves existed so to regular people, he just looked like a huge dog

* A dog that was almost the size of the car but you digress

* In his human form, he was always holding your hand

* Moving you out of the way before someone could bump into you

* Staring down every person that got a little too close to you

* And those few times people have been rude to you, he’d let out a low warning growl

* You’d sometimes have to keep him in check with a gentle hand on his chest or a brief look that told him not to overdo it

* Werewolves were unbelievably strong in both forms, scarily so

* You’ve never seen Namjoon get truly feral but you watch a lot of nature documentaries

* So you could only imagine him if he was really angry

* Your boyfriend was also beefy as hell, compliments of his genes so you knew he could protect you

* But that didn’t mean you wanted him breaking someone’s bones and possibly going to jail

* Still, seeing him get all worked up did get you all hot and bothered

* MATING PRESS

* Your flexibility sucked when you started dating

* So in order to keep up with him, you started doing flexibility training at home

* Where at first your hamstrings would burn, now you could throw your feet behind your ears like nothing

* Sweat would drip down his body as he pounded into your puffy cunt

* Making sure you felt every single inch he had

* You wouldn’t be able to tear your eyes away from how your pussy stretched around his girthy cock

* Every thrust would make your tummy bulge, showing you just how deep he was

* He could definitely go multiple rounds

* Stamina 10/10

* He’s a definite Switch and a Pleasure Dom

* He loves taking control like his alpha instincts tell him

* But he also doesn’t mind letting you dote on him

* PRAISE KINK

* Call him a good boy and let him know how good he’s making you feel and he’s doing his best to make you feel even better

* He also loves when you ride his cock, saying sweet praises to him that made his toes curl

* “That cock’s s-so good, Joonie.”

* “I love that fat cock in my cunt.”

* “You’re gonna make me cum again.”

* “Such a good boy.”

* He’s definitely a whiny baby

* He’s most sensitive behind his ears

* Duh

* He’s a biter too

* Seeing the indents of his teeth all over your skin just did something to him

* He couldn’t mate you all the way so biting you was as close as he could get

* He plunges his entire cock into you when he’s about to cum

* He wants you to feel his cum deep in your stomach

* Yeah he had a bit of a breeding kink

* Could you blame him?

* Your cunt was always so wet and ready for him

* How could he not want to put a baby in you?

* Especially when you’d wrap your legs around his waist to keep him from pulling out

* “Fill me up. Wan’ all your cum.”

* He hated when his cum would leak out, quick to plug you back up with his fingers

* His protective nature wouldn’t even let you leave the bed

* Wrapping his arms around you and rubbing his scent all over your skin

* You’d indulge him for a moment but that sticky feeling would get uncomfortable for you very quickly

* He’d whine when you tried to get up, giving you those puppy dog eyes

* “Just a few more minutes.”

* “I want to clean your cum out of me.”

* It’s like a dagger through his heart

* “I’ll clean you.”

* “Your tongue doesn’t count, Namjoon.”

* After promises to make him his favorite meal, he’d release you

* But alas, your knees would give up on you

* Good thing your ever attentive boyfriend was there to carry you like the princess you were

* “You’re such a damsel in distress. You can’t even walk by yourself.”

* You’d huff and bite his collarbone in retaliation which would pull a moan from him

* “Hey, no biting. Bad girl.”

* “Woof.”

[hauntedrabbit]

i want to share cake w vere and give him a silly little birthday party aka mc, ais and vere get in trouble. or get freaky, but what do I know 👀 excuse my grammar i don’t feel like correcting it rn 💀

Put MC, Ais, and Vere in a room together and I can guarantee everything will explode within a matter of minutes

But I get the feeling that you, aka MC, at first had an idea for a fun little birthday party for Vere. Cake, some champagne, and maybe some games

But of course, Ais had to take it a step further

As in wanting to drag the both of you around Lowtown all night and get wasted and pass out in an alleyway probably

You had the entire set up at the sea spring because you know Vere couldn't be caught dead at any of your other group hang out places

Spoiled ass

So eventually you sent Princess to go fetch the fox man (he knows not to harm her because she is Ais's pet) so you can surprise him

Once Vere arrived, you jumped out from behind some pillars holding a cake, and for the first time since you've known him, you witnessed his tail actually fluff up in shock He had half a mind to strangle you both for laughing but he decided to keep his composure

Vere was actually surprised when he realized this was a birthday party for him, but of course, he hid it all behind cockiness

"Ah, I guess I shouldn't have expected anything less from my most loyal pets"

You and Ais both knew his heart was warming knowing both of you cared enough to even do this for him

So cue the festivities

All three of you sat around in a small circle eating cake and drinking copious amounts of champagne that you stole from the wet wick btw

A few hours later when you've finished the bottle, and the cake, and are pretty damn tipsy. That's when Ais decided to take the night one step further.

"Wanna go bother some of those assholes at the wick?" And act the exact same time, Vere said "Absolutely" and you said "Why not"

Someone pray for Leander's sanity because there's no amount of "drinks are on me" that are going to fix what went down

Three hours of you and Vere acting like Ais's cheerleaders as he won multiple fights with random people he met at bars. You and Vere eventually did join in at some point but then he was disappointed because everyone ran away when he actually spilled blood.

Eventually, Vere managed to get his hands on some more alcohol, sharing it with the two of you totally did not enjoy the fact that it was constant indirect kisses

So of course, by the time you guys dragged yourselves back to the seaspring, you were even more tipsy and covered in blood Vere and Ais more so than you but still

Then you guys were lying down on the floor, about to pass out before you noticed Vere sit up and start dragging his hand down Ais's chest.

"You know, you look even better drenched in blood"

Ais could only smirk, wrapping his arm around Vere and bringing him closer so the two could share a blood-filled kiss.

You pretty much sat off to the side, watching them make out. But you were pulled out of your trance when suddenly, Ais's blood-covered hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to his side so he can pull away from Vere, kissing you harshly, and giving Vere a chance to start "gently" biting his neck.

The next day you woke up with your clothes torn to shreds with bite marks and hickeys you didn't even want to count, not to mention the ache in your lower body. But hey at least the cuddling was good, courtesy of Vere's tail wrapped around your waist. And you can also see Vere looked completely content, no traces of his usual irritation or glare anywhere.

Birthday party was a success ^-^

Kuras however, was not happy about having to make you new clothes