#g/t slice of life

[just-seff-stuff]

Two friends, one has shrunk recently, the other's taking care of them while they figure things out

The tiny hasn't been able to sleep well, dark bags under their eyes

Naturally, concerned, their friend asks why

Turns out the problem is that all cloth is too coarse for a tiny, being smaller means threads are bigger relative to you after all, they've been itchy or sore both in the crude clothes the friend had sewn for them and in the makeshift bed the friend made for them The bigger friend just goes quiet, thinking for a minute, of soft things for the tiny to sleep on that aren't cloth... and their cheeks go pink, as they're unable to think of any solution besides sleeping skin to skin, the tiny sleeping on them They know there MUST be something else, but now that it's in their head, it won't leave, won't let them think of anything else, and their friend's staring at them with a confused look on their face and oh god what do they do now, they can't say this solution out loud-

[littlescaryinternetguy]

Starter lines in G/t slice of life stories where everyone is pretty much used to each other being whatever size

With tax that comes out to 67.82. Do you want to pay for this with a card?

I am very happy that Laura has joined out construction company, as she is very big and I am saving money on cranes.

Hey, smell this. Is this off?

Dang, you're little! That means you qualify for our "very small movie goer" discount.

Repent, Jehovah's Kingdom Comes!

[belethlegwen]

Hell Of A Vision

So now that they're currently on a flight back to a place way too far away from me, I just wanted to make a post to say that myself and @adjacentperception just had an amazing six weeks together.

Originally going to be a two week vacation, their boss encouraged them to put in a form to work internationally from home so we could get a bit of a domestic snapshot for what things would be like if* (*=when) they move here.

It was incredible. It was beautiful. It vibed and meshed so easily, so well, for six whole weeks that the fact they have to leave even if only for less than a year feels cruel and stupid. We fit together, we had such an amazing time. I got to show them so much of what I love of my home, I got to introduce them to my immediate family and most of my friends. It was phenomenal.

I also asked them to marry me.

They said yes.

Of all the things I thought my silly writing could lead to, I never thought it could lead to something like this. I never thought I'd find someone who loves to write, who loves to write with me, who loves to play and create together in such a beautifully unique way. I've never been loved by someone so strongly, so completely, so expansively. We share our loves and our passions with each other and we fit together like puzzle pieces in so many remarkable ways.

I love them so deeply and thoroughly and I feel like there's so many more ways I could love them.

They also make the best soups. The BEST. There was so much soup had here. They taught me to make biscuits and gravy. They made me their famous and incredible spaghetti, the very same spaghetti they were making the day they first messaged me.

We have a story we're working on that's coming together, and we're hoping to be able to post at least the first few chapters of it within the next few months if things go well. G/t, obviously, and we think some folks in the community will really like it.

I'm very excited to catch up on everything that I've been missing out on while I was in my domestic bliss over here, now that I have a big ol' pile of sadness to work through while we finalize on the big move together. Y'all have been putting out amazing stuff for G/tober and even before that! So many stories to hopefully sit down and read!

Anyway, I just wanted to share a little update on our lives and what's been going on with y'all <3 It's also helping me battle the sadtimes right now while they're on a flight and I've got an empty bed waiting for me.

Love you all, be safe, be kind, be you <3

~ Belle

[tinysupervicki]

Me, complained about doing a 4 page mini comic full colored: “So hard, takes so long, I don’t think I’ll do it again.”

Also me, currently sketching an 11 page mini comic:

[sarah-kings]

Origin story on why I draw myself with a flannel

My main way of handling stress and panic is by imagining having a tiny friend who gets panicky very easily and having to calm them down, works like a charm every time.

Bonus:

They are fine, they calmed down once their favorite music started playing and once they charged up their energy again

[fade-out-lights]

going to pretend i now only have fandoms where things are kinda fine until i find another fandom where everyone's dying and also. blood.

[marauroon]

Hellooo! Marauders are taking over my heart my body and my life as well so could I maybe request a fic with James (or poly!marauders whatever you like) with a reader who is avoidant of relationships so once they realize they are loved they try to run away but James wont let her go and patiently convinces her to give them a chance? Thank you so much!

S E L F - S A B O T A G E — POLY MARAUDERS!

poly!marauders x fem!reader | h/c | 4.0k | masterlist!!

the marauders had thrown their hearts at you like it was effortless. and you just couldn’t return the gesture.

cw— relationship avoidant reader, mild miscommunication, mini argument, reader gets anxious and overwhelmed

a/n— thanks for the request ml, this one may require a part two <3

When exactly did it start? All four of you could give a different answer.

Sirius wagers it was the first potions class of fifth year, where you’d been unceremoniously wedged in between him and James as a part of a stupid boy-girl seating plan to stop ‘distractions’.

It didn’t work evidently, and James had managed to talk your ear off almost every lesson since, a familiar glint in his eye that Sirius knew all too well.

Remus would say it was closer to the end of that same year, when they’d somehow managed to invade your table in the library to study for their OWLs and Sirius had managed to get distracted—and distract you—within ten minutes of sitting down, spending almost a whole hour talking at you before Remus had to step in to make sure you both got an ample amount of revision done.

James would probably argue it was the first time the three actually spoke to you, finalised in the way that Remus looked at you as you slid a healing balm across the desk for his increasingly scarred hands with only a mutter that they “looked like they hurt,”.

And you? Well…

You’re not exactly sure.

It was so gradual yet so sudden and now you’re walking down the hallways with three borderline guard dogs at your tail like they’ve collectively decided you were a part of their pack.

And you weren’t sure how you felt about it.

It was endearing to a point, a genuine, unconditional affection shared between the three boys and spread onto you with no request for yours in return, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel almost suffocating.

You were almost constantly in the presence of at least one of the boys, languidly smothering you in unbridled affection like it was second nature to them.

Whether it was Remus slipping you notes for classes you weren’t paying attention in, Sirius insisting on carrying your bag down the hallways, or James sneaking compliments into every sentence he spoke to you, the casual fondness they showed you was never-ending.

And if you were being honest, it was beginning to be a bit too much.

“Here, love,” James passes you a pitcher over Sirius’ breakfast. “You’ll dry out your throat, we need that pretty voice in tact ready for the match later,”

You take the pitcher from him with a raised eyebrow, hoping your fluster isn’t too apparent in your tone. “the… match?”

“The Quidditch match doll,” Sirius takes it upon himself to pour your drink for you, taking the pitcher from your hands like you’ll shatter if he’s not careful enough. “We’re versing Slytherin, it’ll be a sight for sure,”

Oh.

Right.

“Damn right, I can’t wait to see the looks on their faces when we take the cup for the fifth year in a row,” James hits Sirius’ arm lightly in his enthusiasm, stealing a slice of toast from his plate. “You are coming right?” James blinks at you slowly, honey-brown eyes big and round, like he’s silently trying to hypnotise you into agreeing with him.

“I- yeah,” You give him a half-stunted nod, letting your words speak before you can make up your mind and ultimately pull out of it. “yeah…”

“Excellent,” James clasps his hands together with a satisfied nod. “I’ll dig out a spare jersey for you,”

“Who said she was wearing your name?” Sirius turns to him with a raised eyebrow, and it starts a lighthearted debate that you quickly tune out in favour of the dull ringing in your ears.

The way they were talking made everything sound so final, so… concrete. Like you’d just completely melded into their routine through no input of your own.

“You don’t have to,” There’s a soft nudge against your left side, joined by what’s almost a whisper from Remus. “I don’t go to all of them,”

He’s giving you an out. Or at least trying to. You know that if you suddenly pull out of wanting to go that James and Sirius’d be disappointed, even if they pretend that they’re not.

“It’s alright..” You shake your head with a small smile, attempting to reassure both Remus—and yourself—that you really do want to watch the boys play.

James wins his and Sirius’ debate apparently, and a few hours before the match is due to start he hands you a folded up Quidditch jersey with a smile etched onto his face.

“Here you are m’love, look forward to seeing you in it later,” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, winking as he pulls away. “Gotta run for some last minute practice, wish me luck,”

“Good luck…” your hands curl in around the jumper almost instinctually as you stand stationary watching James run out of the common room waving in your direction, and once he’s out of sight your eyes drop to the clothing in your arms.

You hold it up to let it unfold, signature red and gold stripes adorning the fabric and a large embroidered ‘POTTER’ covering the back where it’d meet your shoulder blades.

Well, James’ shoulder blades. It would probably cover most of your upper back.

You spend the next hour staring at it in your dorm room, left draped over the end of your bed as you internally fought with yourself over whether you should actually put it on.

It was taunting you the way the gold embroidery thread caught the overheard lighting, forcing your focus towards the surname like an ultimatum.

If you put on that jumper, you were committing yourself to whatever you’d been thrust into.

And the thought made you almost physically nauseous.

It was like the boys had handed you their hearts on a silver platter, expecting you to shield them inside your ribcage, nestled against your own until they stop beating.

Like they were giving themselves to you wholely, nothing left behind until it was piled up so high that you couldn’t dig yourself out of the iron hold they’d captured you in no matter how much you tried, slowly asphyxiating yourself under the ever constricting grasp of the cage they’d trapped you in until you turned blue.

It terrified you.

You didn’t go to the Quidditch game.

God knows if you did it would end in nothing less than tears, if not you literally collapsing from hyperventilating at the first sight of any of the three of them.

Instead, you burrowed yourself underneath your satin sheets to seek a dull solace, no comfort found in the way you curled in on yourself, but no growing anxiety either.

You knew you’d have to leave it eventually, face the three boys and force out an excuse whilst desperately hoping they didn’t see just how horrifically anxious they made you.

It was horrible really, they’d done nothing but extend their kindest hands to you, treat you like you painted the stars in the sky and gifted them the oxygen they breathed.

And here you were, dreading the thought of so much as glancing at their blissfully oblivious faces.

“Sweetheart,” Marlene enters the dorm almost cautiously as she edges the door open, still clad in her full quidditch gear, sweat glistening against her forehead. “The boys are outside for you,”

“I’m not here,” You muffle your words into your duvet as you pull it up and over your head, and you can’t faintly hear Marlene sigh as she treads over and pulls you from your cocoon of self pity through dragging the quilt out of your hands.

She raises her eyebrow down at you questioning it, but you can see the concern swirling in her irises.

“Just tell them I’m asleep?” You furrow your eyebrows in silent pleading, echoed through your words as you exhale heavily. “Please?”

Shes clearly not very happy with your request, but she bites her tongue and gives you a small nod anyway, brushing stray hairs from your forehead with a sigh. “Whatever this is about, you should talk to them,”

“Yes mum,” You roll your eyes with a feigned sigh of indignation, pulling the duvet back up underneath your chin.

As she turns to leave, expression a mix of exasperation and amusement, you catch the jersey draped against your bed-post in the corner of your eye.

“Marls,” You point to it almost pathetically. “I really don’t want to face them right now,”

She practically snatches the jumper from the end of your bed with an almost scolding expression, and you flash her a guilty but grateful smile.

“I love you,”

“My love for you is dwindling,” She throws the jumper over her arm with an over-dramatised exhale, but she shoots you a flying kiss across the room nonetheless, and it leaves you with a small smile as the door clicks shut.

Although it doesn’t last very long.

You’d given her the jumper to return for you because you didn’t even want to consider what James’ face would look like when he got it back.

But of course your mind pictured it anyway.

The way his hazel eyes would pool first in disappointment before slowly turning to worry, a small, almost imperceptible frown pulling at the corners of his lips and his eyebrows furrowed just enough that it caused a line to form above the bridge of his nose.

You honestly didn’t know if you seeing it in real life or the picture your brain had unceremoniously forced onto you was worse, but what you did know was that you could not face him now.

The minute that boy saw you—any of them really—you knew that the impending conversation that followed was going to be one you didn’t want to have.

You jinxed yourself pretty hard with that prediction.

You’d managed to avoid the three at breakfast the next morning to no credit of your own, slept in so late after running your mind into the ground the night before you’d basically missed the whole thing, but you didn’t even make it down the hallway towards your first lesson before a pair of running feet crescendo’d in your direction.

“Hey—”

Shit.

“Sirius, morning,” You stop dead in the middle of the hallway, most definitely to the begrudgement of the rest of the students trying to get to class; And whilst you regret it almost immediately, Sirius doesn’t have a care in the world for diverting the foot traffic, concern written in the way his eyebrows knit together as his attention stays devoted to you.

“Are you okay? You didn’t make it to the match yesterday, we were worried about you,” His tone conveys less disappointment that you didn’t go and more genuine concern that something might’ve happened or gone wrong.

“Yeah, sorry,” You reply half awkwardly, fiddling absentmindedly with the cuffs of your sleeves. “I’m alright though,” You echo the end of your sentence with a nod, lips pressed together in a line, a mimicry of a smile.

“You’re sure?” He reaches out his hand to press the back of it against your forehead. “Because if you’re ill Moony’s got a bunch of stuff from Madame Pomfrey, I’m sure something’ll—”

“I’m fine, Sirius,” You don’t let him finish his sentence before you’re gently pulling his hand away from your face and back down to his side. “You really don’t have to worry, I just fell asleep,”

“Alright,” He most definitely picks up on the traces of defensiveness in your tone as he takes a step backwards to give you a little more personal space, and you’d have half the mind to feel guilty if you weren’t so constantly overwhelmed by him and the others.

“I’ll uh,” He presses his lips together half-awkwardly. “Let you get to class then,”

“Don’t you have potions?” It’s genuine curiosity, edged with a small amount of concern that Sirius’ll be late for his own class now that he’s followed you half way to yours. On the opposite side of the castle.

“Yeah, but I wanted to make sure you were okay first,” Sirius gives you a small smile, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Let me walk you?”

You shake your head slowly, gently pushing on his shoulder. “Go to your own class, Sirius,”

He lingers for a moment before turning to head back in the direction he came from, leaving you with a mix of relief and lingering guilt.

__

Your day is largely uneventful until lunch, the smell of parchment still lingering in your nose as you wander out towards the courtyard instead of joining your friends in the great hall.

You knew they’d be there. Of course they’d be there.

And after this morning with Sirius, which he’d definitely told the other two about, you were finding yourself wanting to be in their presence even less.

So you take your lunch to the courtyard instead, settling on a bench farthest from the entrance to avoid any potential encounter. The peace is short-lived, however, as you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.

“Thought you might be out here,” James' voice is gentle, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he takes a seat next to you.

You tense up, trying to muster a smile but failing. “Hey, James.”

“Hey,” he echoes, and you can feel the weight of his gaze on you. “You missed breakfast this morning.”

“Yeah, I—“ You search for an excuse, but nothing comes to mind. “I wasn't really hungry.”

James nods slowly, as if he's trying to decode the underlying meaning behind your words. “Is everything alright? You seemed a bit off yesterday.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the anxiety bubble up in your chest. “I'm fine, really. Just needed some time to myself.”

“Time to yourself?” James repeats, his tone soft but probing. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

You wanted to curse James Potter sometimes.

How could he be so confident in himself that he could throw his heart at you with no fear of it shattering in your palms?

How could he be so sweet yet so painfully ignorant?

“If this is about you missing the quidditch match yesterday, Sirius and I aren’t—”

“It’s not about the quidditch match James,” You cut him off with a sigh. “Or— It is, but it’s not just about that—”

You stand to release yourself from James’ proximity.

“James, it's everything.” you finally admit, unable to hold back any longer. “I cant so much as breathe without one of you attached to my hip and I can’t do it anymore—”

James' face falls, the concern in his eyes deepening. “We're just trying to show you we care, but if it's too much, we can give you space.”

“It's not just space,” you say, your voice trembling. “It's... even thinking about you three is suffocating me...”

James's face contorts in confusion and a touch of hurt, but he quickly masks it with a forced understanding. "I... didn't realize it was that bad," he says quietly, his usual confident demeanor faltering for the first time in your memory.

You swallow hard, guilt gnawing at your insides, but you can’t take back what you’ve said. You don’t want to. It’s been building inside you for too long—the overwhelming presence of James, Sirius, and Remus in your life. They were everywhere, all the time, and while their company had almost become a comfort, it quickly spiralled into a cage.

“I’m sorry, James. I know you all mean well, but it’s just… too much,” you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nods, though the motion seems more for his benefit than yours, as if he’s trying to force himself to understand. “I get it,” he says, though you can tell he really doesn’t. “I guess I never thought about how it might feel from your side. We just… we wanted to make sure you really felt like one of us,”

The way he says "one of us" stings, a reminder of how you were a part of their tight-knit group—no, how they had made you a part of it, pulling you in whether you liked it or not.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? You hadn’t really been given a choice. You had been absorbed into their world, expected to fit perfectly into the space they had carved out for you, without ever considering whether you wanted to be there in the first place.

“I know you didn’t mean any harm,” you say, trying to soften the blow. “But I need to figure out how I feel without… without you all hovering over me all the time.”

James winces at that, and you can see the pain in his eyes. “We never meant to make you feel like that,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought… We— thought, you… We were trying to prove how much we care…”

The tears you’ve been holding back threaten to spill over, but you blink them away. “I don’t need you to prove anything, James. I need to breathe.”

He looks down at his hands, clasped tightly together in his lap. “If that’s what you need, then we’ll give it to you,” he says finally, though his voice is tinged with reluctance. “We can give you space, we can— leave you alone if that’s what you need. We can wait until you’re ready.”

“What if I’m never ready?”

James doesn’t really know how to respond to that.

“I— Why wouldn’t you ever be ready..?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, James,” It hurts, coming out of your mouth, echoing back into your ears. But it’s true.

“I— I know being with three people at once can be overwhelming but—”

“It’s not that James,” You shake your head with an almost imperceptible sigh. “I don’t think I’d even be able to date one of you without being overwhelmed,”

James’s eyes widen in surprise, his expression shifting from hurt to confusion. “Are you saying... you don’t want to be with any of us?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears and regrets. You glance away, struggling to find the right words to convey the complexity of your feelings.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” you say slowly, trying to articulate the intricate emotions swirling inside you. “But I can’t… give myself to you, I can’t— hand you three my heart on a silver platter like you did to me. I just can’t.”

James's expression shifts from confusion to a mixture of frustration and sadness. He clearly hadn’t expected this level of honesty.

“I get that you’re overwhelmed,” he says, his voice quiet but determined. “But can you give us a chance to show you that we can handle it? That we can adjust and give you what you need without pushing too hard?”

You meet his gaze, seeing the earnestness and vulnerability in his eyes. It’s clear he’s invested in making this work, not just for himself but for all three of them. You can see him struggling to reconcile his own desires with your need for space and clarity.

“It’s not just about trying, James,” you reply, feeling the weight of your words. “It’s about whether or not I’m ready to be a part of this—whatever this is. And right now, I don’t even know what I want, let alone if I can handle being part of something with all three of you.”

James nods, absorbing your words. “I understand that you need time. But maybe instead of pushing you away entirely, we could find a middle ground. We could— take things slower, give you room to breathe while still being here for you in a less overwhelming way. If you don’t want us all together then… maybe it’s just one of us you’d be open to starting with? Even if it’s just as friends—”

Your heart softens a bit at his suggestion. The idea of easing into something less intense seems more manageable, though it still doesn’t completely resolve your concerns.

“You can get to know us properly— as people, and let us show you why we care about you.” There’s a hint of desperation in his tone, one that’s mirrored in his irises, swirling in his gaze amidst the sunlight reflecting off of his pupils. “Just… give us a chance,”

You take in James’s earnest plea, feeling the weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes. The desperation and hope in his gaze pull at something within you, a flicker of longing for a connection that feels genuine and real, even amidst the confusion and overwhelming anxiety.

“I... I can try,” you say slowly, the words feeling both heavy and hopeful as they leave your lips. “I can try to get to know you better, as individuals, and see where it goes. But I need you to understand that this isn’t going to be easy, and it might take longer than any of us expect.”

James’s face lights up with a mixture of relief and gratitude. “That’s all I’m asking for,” he says, a small but genuine smile forming on his lips. “We’ll take it slow, no pressure. Just... let us show you that we can be what you need, one step at a time.”

You nod, feeling a tentative sense of hope as you look at him. “Alright. We’ll start with that. But if at any point it becomes too much, I need you to promise me that you’ll respect that.”

James’s smile widens, his eyes reflecting a mix of joy and determination. “I promise. We’ll be patient and understanding. And if you need space, we’ll give it to you. Just... let us try and convince you...”

There’s a moment of silence between you, the tension easing slightly as you both come to a mutual understanding. The path forward is still uncertain, but the willingness to try and the promise of patience create a small but significant shift in the dynamic between you.

You give him a soft nod. “Thank you, James,” you breathe out shortly, feeling a weight lifted off your shoulders.

James gives you a warm, encouraging nod. “Anytime. We care about you, and we want you to be happy. Just remember, we’re here for you.”

And so, the next chapter of your ‘relationship’ began. Starting in a place that preceded even the beginning.

[bunnys-kisses]

Helloooo, i fear my first order didn't go through(if it did feel free to ignore this one pls) but can i order a slice of apple pie with coffee and something on the house in verstappen's name pretty please🤭 my fav sauce is fem!dom but i understand if you're all out lol

bakery menu

feel free to submit your own order! i am accepting for more than just f1 if something tickles your fancy! i love servin' up smiles! as for this lovely request, ya'll have figured out i love a good set of rivals. something romantic and erotic about it! especially with mr. verstappen!

apple pie ("now be good and beg. thank you.") + coffee (rivals au) + on the house/vanilla cheesecake ("where are your manners?")

cw: smut/pwp, dom!reader, begging, cowgirl position, rivals au, blindfolds & bondage, dom!reader, bd/sm baby,

the clock in the hotel room ticked as you sat on the couch, your phone in your hand and your face rested on your other hand as you leaned against the arm of the couch.

you thought about giving max a heads up about how much time he had left. but you knew what would only get him more excited. and this was a punishment, not a reward.

max verstappen fucked up.

the two of you have been in a limbo between rivals and lovers since you both joined f1 around the same time. he was the golden prodigy and you were the underdog. you, max and charles made three rivals.

but charles had no interest in getting between the both of you in the little games you played. he was very happy with his own love life. plus as he once said to max over a few drinks.

"what's going to happen when you eventually fall in love? i don't think there can be two verstappens on the track at the same time."

max shrugged and looked at his half-empty glass of his g&t, "that's if she even would take my last name."

charles knew you had it bad for max and max had it bad for you. he thought if you two were not drivers you would've been married with two kids living in some european country! and he would've been genuinely happy for the two of you.

he had spent most of his karting career between the two of you and the weird "i'm going to kill you" but also "let's have sex" energy, so to let you two figure it out was less stress on him.

the situation max was began a few hours after the dutch grand prix, outside the ferrari rooms. charles just put in his earbuds and went back to what he was doing on his phone. he wasn't getting involved.

"you are a backstabbing bastard, verstappen." you snapped, arms crossed as you stared at him.

he had his arms on his hips, "backstabbing! i did nothing to you! that dnf was your fault."

"my! my fault! you fucking ran me off the track you piece of shit!"

he made a face, "then get better!"

you couldn't gone for his throat, it would've made international headlines if you just lunged at him and made a mess of that handsome face. you wondered if all those girls would still follow him around if he had a busted lip.

"you're a fucking prick, max."

he reached out and held you jaw, those blue eyes on you. but you stood your ground and put a hand on his wrist. there was a moment of stand off before he leaned in to you and whispered, "drieëndertig en vijf."

thirty-three and five.

your racing numbers. you looked at him and took his hand off your face. ah, this is what this was all about. the current champion had some pent up energy.

the last your teammate heard of the two of you was the slamming of the hotel room door.

now max was blindfolded on his knees with those strong arms tied behind his back. his posture was weakening the longer he had to kneel there.

also your bullet vibrator taped to his cock using medical tape. you were glad that you collected and held onto the weirdest shit in your make-up bag or you would've have the tape.

his liked it all. he panted heavily, you looked up from you phone and smiled at him. poor verstappen. he might have walked away with the trophy but there was no better than prize than a man on his knees.

you leaned forward a little bit. and level the camera to his face. he was blindfolded and you snapped a photo. then you cupped his face, nudging your thumb against his lips which he then opened his mouth like a good boy.

soon he was sticking his tongue out of his mouth and you pressed your thumb against it while you snapped a picture. he really was trained, but then again. you only had yourself to pat yourself on the back for that.

when you found he was a total sub, he was like putty in your hands. world champion likes when he long time racing rival tied him up and makes him drip pre-cum down his cock.

"please." he pleaded.

"please, what?"

he then gasped and came all over himself. his eyes were wide and his back hunched over as cum spurted all over his abdomen. his entire body was shaking from the after shocks.

you sighed and looked from your phone, "verstappen, where are your manners?" you also saw he was still painfully erect. you kissed your teeth and got up. the poor guy was worn out enough.

you crouched down and turned the toy off. you made a face as you saw there was cum all over it. nothing you could not clean, just a bit of an inconvenience.

"max, you with me?" you asked as you tapped the apple of his left cheek, "need to slow down? give me a sign, verstappen." it was erotic for you too. he liked when you sounded bored, disinterested in him falling apart sexually.

you tried not to get psychological with it. but, you guessed that he was used to people being disinterested in him. lazy, stupid... at least at the end of this you'll hold him. care for him.

he nodded, "i'm good, het gaat goed met me." he was panting heavily.

you quickly took the blindfold off and looked in his eyes. they looked a little hazy, but still the shining blue was still there. you then kissed him on the lips.

"you did good." you said between kisses, "you're still so hard." you chuckled a little.

"can't help it." he panted, "you drive me crazy."

you kissed the side of his face and said, "alright, let's get you on the bed. and i'll wear you out, max." when gave his cheek a small pinch. you then got the binds off of him and took him by the hand and got him onto the bed.

he laid out with his cock painfully hard. he was still covered in cum. and shuddered when you took one of the face cloths from the bathroom and wiped it off of him. you tossed it off the bed when you were done.

"i'm going to beat you next time, verstappen." you said as you started to get undressed, "then i'm really going to really overstimulate you." then splayed your hands across his exposed chest. feeling the rise and fall of it under your touch.

"i don't expect anything else." he gave a light chuckle as he felt you sink yourself on his cock. he groaned when you hit the base and he clutched onto covers under him.

he couldn't touch you unless you gave him permission. he watched you find the pace on his cock. you had your hands on his chest as you rolled your hips up and down on him.

"please." he groaned.

you chuckled, "mmm, i don't know max." you felt hot all over from this entire ordeal, "you were being mean to me earlier. and that's not acceptable."

"i'm sorry, i'll be good next time." he whined.

you rode him gently and you felt him twitch under you. he looked simply so good.

he continued his cute begging, "please. fuck, i'm so sorry. i shouldn't have been so mean." his voice cut off in a moan as he panted wildly, "you're an amazing driver. i'm.. i'm nothing."

you cupped his face, "no need for that, max. you make racing fun, going up against you is like butting heads with a titan. you're not nothing." your voice was cool. also a genuine affection was in there.

"i want to be a good boy for you."

and who could deny that?

"you always are, max. you're my good boy. the second best driver i know." you chuckled. he looked up curiously, almost hurt that he was labeled second best.

before he could ask who was the number one best, you patted his hot cheek and face, "because i'm number one." then leaned in to kiss him on the lips as you continued to rock your body against his.

the bed moved against the wall every so gently as you thrusted against max. you felt warm all over as you moved against him. he felt like a dream. you would often joke to him that it was like you two were a perfect fit.

he never denied the claim.

you pulled away from the kiss and planted both hands on either side of his head. you panted, "you're a good sub for me. i bet everyone thinks you're the big man in charge. but no, no, no. you curl against my like a good little kitten."

"i only want to make you happy." you admitted through heavy pants.

"and you'll always make me happy. not only in the bedroom, but also on the track. as much as i want to win, i want you to be successful too. you in second and i in first."

he chuckled lightly, cheeks stained pink, "that was almost romantic."

you kissed him once more and said, "don't get used to it. you're still my rival." you knew eventually you two would end up getting married, at this point the lines were so painfully blurred that another person couldn't get between you two.

in moments like this, if someone asked either of you if you were dating. the word "yes" would slip out so easily. thank god, this was as private as it got.

you continued his movement against him, and watched him ball his fists into the sheets. you felt your breathing grow heavy as you felt the thump on your heartbeat.

"you're a good boy."

"please."

"i mean it, verstappen." you kissed him once more. the kisses led down his neck and to his collarbone where he hissed. you always knew how sensitive it was. one time you tried to leave a hickey on the skin and he had to cover his mouth because his noises were a little too loud.

"thank you." the pleasure was clouding his head as he felt your sweet pussy around it. it didn't take long for him to finish, and his brain short wired for a moment.

he relaxed against the bed and panted heavily. trying to get as much air in his chest.

you leaned back and rubbed his chest as you continued to ride him which only shoved his cum deeper into you. risky games just like their racing.

"fuck, schat." he groaned.

"i got you, max. don't worry." you replied as you kept your pace up, feeling the heat in your body and buzz your brain. you rode yourself to completion and hunched over him for a moment. you could feel your heart race. you wiped the sweat off your neck. you were both done for the night.

he cursed something and tried to catch his breath.

"good boy." you said as you laid next to him, half-spooning him. you played with his hair and felt the steadiness of his heart beat.

"i'm going to beat you again." he said through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

you chuckled and kissed him on the forehead, "right, right. but i'll still take the championship home."

he tilted his head up and you kissed him on the lips. it'll be another

in the next room, charles was staring at the ceiling with his cheek between his teeth. he was thankful when the thumping in the next room stopped. the only problem he had now was the painful erection in his shorts.

maybe him not getting involved was making things worse.

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART FIVE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 8.7k.

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, blood/gore, violence, death, weapons, drugging, kidnapping, stalking, noncon touching, invasion of privacy, mentions of sexual assault, parasites/infections, & needles.

ada wong's yandere traits are . . .

lucid, romantic, & confident

──── Ada Wong hates the sensation of grass on her skin. Yet still, the green matter stains all her clothes.

She'll spend her days laying in fields of grass. It tickles her skin and provokes her allergies, but she cannot fathom living without it. If she closes her eyes, she can almost stimulate the feeling of being with you once again. September 28th, 1998. On that road verge with dirt caked on her skin and a dandelion in her messy hair — Ada is convinced she is the only human who has ever been touched by such intense, perfidious happiness.

A beige trench coat littered with these same stains is preserved in her walk-in closet. It has not been worn in years, not since that night in Raccoon City. There are the occasional splatters of blood and gunpowder residue, but they are insignificant in comparison to the vivid green smudges. During rough patches, Ada will take the coat from its plastic covering and hold it close to her chest. If she closes her eyes again, she can almost convince herself it is you in her arms instead of this filthy, out-of-season garment.

As difficult as it is, however, she cannot let these feelings reach her heart. She cannot let herself feel for you.

She made this declaration long ago. Six years ago, to be exact.

Y/N L/N. The name she will never forget.

Ada remembers your evocative touch, your bunny-like shivering, your skin like flowers; she will never forget how you ended her life in Raccoon City.

The onslaught of inhuman, guttural growling had died down with the echo of gunshots. All flesh-eating creatures surrounding her now lay dead on the streets of Raccoon City. Now, a heavy silence sits. And the fear that follows slices into her flesh like a jagged knife. But, not for her life, no. For yours.

Ada briskly and anxiously scrutinizes her surroundings, searching for that jaw-dropping face she fell so hard and violently for. In the end, she finds nothing. All she is met with is the flickering lights of corner shops and the crackling of fire from car wrecks. When she looks down, however, Ada discovers the crumbled dandelion you gave her beneath the foot of her heel. Hastily, she grasps the precious weed and stuffs it into her coat pocket.

From here, attaining the G-Sample, selling it to the highest bidder, and earning more money than she could ever need was irrelevant. All that matters is finding you. Her darling petal, her bunny rabbit. Her salvation.

Ada's relentless efforts to find you result in Raccoon City being torn to shreds. Searching through Mizoil Gas Station to Umbrella's underground laboratory, all her attempts at bringing you back into her arms are brought to no avail. Ada is worn down and stained with grime, absolutely exhausted with dread.

It isn't until the golden sun rises does she learn of survivors being sent to a hospital outside of the city. She abandons everything in Raccoon City and high-tails it to Fox Park Hospital. Her feet ache from its uncomfortable stance in her stilettos and her lungs throb from the constant sprint. Still, nothing matters but you.

When she arrives at the hospital, she is overwhelmed with concerned families and tireless doctors. Several nurses inquire her about her physical state, but Ada disregards their concern entirely. She thought she could hide how perceptibly enamored she is with you through sly remarks and poised disposition. Maybe she'd conjure up some flattering remark to one of the doctors and bite her lip, all to gain access to your location. However, the only trait others can garner from her attitude is a desperate, downright feral act of despair.

Sharp nails digging into the shoulders of a poor nurse, she demands he inform her of your whereabouts. When the nurse squeaks out where you had been admitted to, Ada nearly punts him to the ground before breaking into a dash. She shoves past all other bystanders and bursts through the door to your room. And the way her heart surges in her chest upon entering could rival that of a genuine, torturous death.

There you lay, unconscious on the hospital bed. Bandages adorn the bruises and scars littered on your body. A white cast has been ensnared around your right arm.

The sight is nothing short of devastating. In a moment of weakness, she had so frivolously let you escape from her embrace. Now, you had to be the one who suffered the consequences.

Softly, Ada sits beside your sleeping form and restrains the urge to tackle you into a hug. It scares her, this sudden sense of warmth she possesses for you. She takes your weak hand into hers and shivers from the tender contact. I should not feel this way, she thinks to herself. Nothing about this is okay.

Despite the experience she has in the field of romance, Ada has never obtained genuine feelings for someone. All that lay beneath the surface of her seductive veneer was nothingness, sheer dust. She'll wear that coquettish nature like a crown and revel in the sense of power she feels of having someone beneath her. They care more about her than she does about them. And she loves it.

With you, though, things are different. Much different.

In all 24 years of her life, Ada never anticipated being slapped across the face with such raw emotion. The instance was ephemeral, but all-too devastating in the same breath. Dandelion between your fingers and the playful light in your eyes — the sight robbed her heart blind like candy from a baby. A lifetime spent in the depths of Winter, who knew a mere second of eye contact was all she needed to be lunged into the heavenly warmth of spring?

Ada is humiliated upon finding herself in the depths of such a ridiculous predicament. You have turned her into some lovesick monster, entirely incapable of maintaining stability. She thought she could control it; she thought she could shove you into a box with the rest of her past lovers. But, much like every other attempt she has made involving you, she failed miserably. No matter how hard she tries, she can't stop herself from being in love with you.

With this epiphany comes another. Every bruise, every scar, every wound on your body is living proof of what your life will become if she were to take you away. As badly as she wishes to take you and drown you in her adoration, she holds herself back. To live in complete bliss would mean robbing you of a good life; to ensure her happiness would mean robbing you of yours. By taking you away, her life would begin, yes, but yours would end. And if she were to take away the precious light you hold inside, she would never forgive herself.

The syringe she managed to snag from a passing doctor clatters to the floor. A physical manifestation of the realization seeping through her mind. For the very first time in her life, she cannot be selfish. For the first time, someone else's well-being is more important than hers.

She doesn't deserve you and you don't deserve her. You deserve happiness, you deserve normalcy, you deserve safety.

You deserve everything she cannot give you.

With a trembling breath, she affectionately drags the joint of her fingers down the side of your face. The mere thought of never being able to see this sight again shatters her. But for you, she would do absolutely anything, no matter how soul-crushing the pain is. Anything.

"Until next time, Y/N..."

The next six years were a tumultuous, frenzied blur. Ada Wong, notorious for her enticing personality, has crumbled.

Head-first, the agent had thrown herself into her work. Anything to keep her mind off of you. Or, at the very least, to look at the horrors she faces in her career to further remind herself you are better off without her. Every day, she oscillates with the idea of checking up on you, wherever you may be. It would be far too easy, as told by her skills. Though, if she were to do this, she knows she would not be able to leave you like she did six years ago. It had nearly killed Ada to leave you behind in that hospital. She isn't sure if she can survive that same pain all over again.

These gnawing desires keep her awake into the late hours of the night. Tossing and turning in bed, tossing and turning the idea of how good it would feel to have you in her arms. She wraps her arms around herself and caresses her own skin, pretending it is your hands on her body instead of her imagination. She feels weak, she feels deranged. But, she cannot help it. It kills her to not have you here with her.

She wonders how your life has changed since Raccoon City. What makes you smile, what makes you cry, if you're up at night thinking about her the way she does you. The misery nearly emulates the feeling of being butchered, as if you had personally cut open her flesh and sewed your name into her veins. But, Ada would do anything for you. Even if it means enduring the same torture every day, she is satisfied with life knowing she got to hold you. Even for just a second.

After a call with Albert Wesker, she is reminded yet again why you should not be a part of her life. To be exposed to this separate world would only be detrimental to you. She could never curse you with the burden that is her lifestyle. You deserve far more than that.

Ada teases the ring on her left hand. Mere hours after the crisis in Raccoon City, she preserved the dandelion you gave her and had it pressed into a ring. Six years later, this piece of jewelry has always ensnared her finger, as it remains her only source of security. The memory of you pulls at her heartstrings the way an angel plays a harp. In fact, it is the only memory she has that she can look back on fondly, as opposed to the bloodshed she has been so frivolously exposed to.

So absorbed in the warm rain of your memory, Ada nearly forgets the task Wesker had assigned for her. Abruptly and harshly, she is once again given another reminder of why you should stay far away from her. You make her weak, as Wesker told her, and neither of them cannot afford that weakness. She was fortunate enough to never disclose your identity with him, as he may have hunted you down in retaliation to her slacking efforts.

She doesn't know what she would do if she learned you were suffering out there. Wherever you are.

Opening the file Wesker sent to her, Ada scrutinizes the myriad of information sent her way. Through the grapevine, there was hearsay of Umbrella surviving the wreckage of Raccoon City. Satellite imagery displayed a vast forest where they had set up their 'sanctuary,' as they called it. Within the sanctuary were survivors of Raccoon City, where they would be kept captive to avoid exposing Umbrella and forcing them to face the consequences of their mistakes.

Her task was simple: find out if they have samples of Amber in their possession. If so, deliver the sample back to Wesker.

Of course, with this mission arose heavy concern. Images of you being subject to Umbrella's abuse sent a serrated rush of panic through her body. Ada had practically torn herself asunder with her efforts to protect you, she never acknowledged how other dangers may have slipped through the cracks.

A consideration, one much stronger than before, is what she is faced with. Giving into her selfish desires and having you by her side would benefit her happiness, yes, but it would also expose you to the horrors of her life. Leaving you without this burden in whatever life you had chosen for yourself would most likely benefit your happiness, yes, but would expose you to peril she cannot control. She would put her life down for your happiness, after all.

This consideration plagues Ada's mind as she is flown out to the sanctuary. Since the area was under investigation by another team, she had to play this smart, no matter how badly she wished to storm through the doors and hunt you down.

Yellow tape surrounds the entire premise, and numerous police officers and detectives are scattered amongst the area. Picking the lock to a window; Ada slides into the building with flexible ease. She lands with a bounce upon a bed. The springs whine beneath her weight; the headboard creaks with frail fragility. She finds herself in a sunken mess of fluffy throw blankets and tacky plushies. Climbing out of the array after practically drowning in it, Ada straightens her dress before scrutinizing the room.

The area is naturally stale. The same way a bleak, depressing hospital room feels. However, this detail is hidden beneath the mass of decorations and clutter. It is surrounded by love, despite its dull foundation.

A rickety bookshelf and stale bedside table are settled by the bed. On them are books checked out from the sanctuary's library, as well as wilting plants, a flickering salt lamp, dusty candles, and even more heaps of plushies. Ada's heels sink into a fuzzy rug as she studies the contents. A clothing rack can be found, too, with boring clothes hung upon it. Stickers and doodles adorn the supports, as well. 

Across from this was a sofa couch that sat opposite a chunky television. Cheesy horror movies are stacked on top of the thick surface. Another plant sits by the television in a custom-painted pot, leaves adorned in brown decay. Another plushie is rested against the TV, as well. God, how many stuffed animals does a person need?

Nothing within this small expanse relates to your whereabouts or the Amber, which eases Ada's mind. She lets out a sigh of relief. It would pain her in ways she could never fathom to know you were suffering in Umbrella's disturbed idea of a "sanctuary" while she was too busy trying to forget you.

Ada walks through the adjacent threshold and finds a small kitchen. Once again, the dull appearance had been diluted with heartfelt decor. Hand-crafted paintings are strung upon the walls. Some show the childlike fun of the artist, while others display the raw talent every brush and stroke exudes. A small table is huddled in the corner with a vase of Lego flowers serving as the centerpiece.

Cooking utensils, handmade clay figures, and tea sets are all scattered on the kitchen counters. A package of chamomile tea had been left out on the same counter and the shattered pieces of a mug had been left on the concrete. Strange, but it does not pull her attention.

It isn't until something catcher her eye while on her way out does her heart pound. By the art on the wall, beyond the scatterings of band posters and paintings, a myriad of polaroids had been taped into the shape of a heart.

And directly in the middle is a polaroid of you.

It is a candid shot of you in the sanctuary's garden surrounded by lush flowers. Fat, glittery smile on your face, there is more light in your eyes than Ada had ever seen. Beyond the jealousy for the photographer who got the privilege of drowning in that gaze, a sinking pit of dread sits like a brick in her stomach.

You were here. This whole time, you were here.

It only makes sense this is your room, she should have known. Who better to bring love into such a dank estate than you? You've made something bland more lively, as you do in all other areas of life. But, she was so concerned with roping you into the violent dangers of her life, that she strayed as far away from you as she could. Still, you found yourself here in the end. She was so concerned with keeping her vigorous feelings for you at bay that her negligence had caused you to be thrust into the darkest pits of this world. And nothing she can do now will erase the sheer weight of her frivolous mistake.

Her chest expands and deflates rapidly with hyperventilating breaths. Black dots swim in her doubled vision. Her skin is sheen with sweat. Nausea swims in her stomach. She collapses onto the bed, your bed. A quiet array of whispered "no"'s evades the cramped bedroom. She can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything!

"My petal, I'm so sorry. My sweet petal... How could I have let this happen...?" Ada is completely and utterly devastated.

The pervasion of an unfamiliar voice seeps in from outside the door. Ada covers her mouth to muffle the hyperventilating breaths protruding from her.

"T said they've fled to Spain. Fucking Spain, can you believe that shit?"

"Goddamn Umbrella... If only Oliveira were still here to see this. 'Give him somethin' else to do than daydream about his bitch, 'know what I mean?"

"I hear ya. Dude's a fucking nutcase."

Spain? Is that where you could be? Is that where Umbrella has taken you?

The doorknob jiggles and Ada immediately stands to her feet. Her swift nature had been robbed from her, as her legs now felt like two bags of sand. Her head throbs violently. It sounds like a tumultuous clammer before she succumbs to the turmoil and falls to the ground.

Sweat seeping down her forehead and her hands shaking, Ada attempts to pull herself up. She grips the corner of the bed frame and pulls her entire body weight. Her stiletto then accidentally kicks something beneath the bed. Looking for identification, Ada finds a plastic case with several cassette tapes inside. As she studies it, the doorknob jiggles once more. After greedily taking hold of it, Ada swiftly takes a few more souvenirs before leaving. The polaroid of you, a flower you molded out of clay, and an opossum plushie nestled on your bed. Then, she is off.

And within the penthouse that feels more like a model house than it does her actual home, Ada sits in her office. Inside the case full of cassettes, dates are written on each tape. Upon closer inspection, there's a sudden halt in activity after October. Almost as if Umbrella has lost interest in you. She prays this is the only reason, that they had released you and let you enjoy a life filled with the happiness you deserve. Thinking of the opposite has her whole body shivering.

Ada takes the cassette player in her desk and pops the earliest tape into place. She was so invested in finding where you had run off to, she had completely disregarded the gut-wrenching effect your voice would have on her. It's so... pretty. Like the first birdcall of Spring, like gentle waves crashing against the shore.

Ada is quick to grasp her control back, shifting her attention to the actual context of your words instead of how badly she wished to hear you whisper in her ear.

The contents of the tape display an audio journal, where you recall every horrid detail of the night that changed your life. You mention Leon Kennedy and Ada rolls her eyes from the annoyance his mere name brings. Six years have passed since she's seen him, or even thought of him, for that matter. But, the irritation that cop was marvelous at triggering still lives on. Of course, he's the first thing you talk about. She's sure he'd be ecstatic knowing this.

You speak about your time working at Mizoil Gas Station. When you trail off about your coworkers, your voice perceptibly drops when you speak of one in particular. With his wandering hands, sultry words, and a compulsion to ignore every 'no' you sent his way, you admit to yourself how good it felt to kill him.

As infuriated as this makes Ada, you then speak her name, and all coherent thoughts are stolen from her. She has to cover her mouth to restrain the sharp gasp that escapes. You do not speak thoroughly of your encounter with her, much to her dismay. Only detailing how she guided you out of the police department and protected you. Still, she revels in the harmonious melody of you speaking of her.

Ada can crawl out of cloud nine when you, unfortunately, move on to the next fraction of that night. To escape the zombies that attacked you and her, you sought protection in the local gun shop. There, you meet someone she was not aware of.

Jill Valentine.

Ada's eyes narrow when you speak of this woman. She can see the obvious signs of her being attracted to you, but you could be none-the-wiser to these affections. Your inability to heed flirtation is adorable if Ada were to be honest.

There's another transition to where you meet another man. Someone who, once again, Ada was unfamiliar with.

Carlos Oliveira.

He, too, showed obvious signs of being attracted to you. Which, once again, flew over your head. Both he and Jill had saved your life numerous times and you expressed this gratitude. To you, it was nothing but a common heroic act from two hardworking cops. Ada, however, read through the lines of their actions the same way she could read a children’s book.

They are in love with you. Hopelessly so. That much is clear.

It should be obvious. This is you we're talking about, after all. As much as she wishes they wouldn't, it is simply impossible to not become irrevocably besotted with you. Even if it were feasible, it would simply be brainless not to wish to spend the rest of forever with you.

The tape whirs as it reaches its ending point. Your story ends with waking up at Fox Park Hospital before being sent to this sanctuary. However, there is nothing that implies where your path has led six years later. There are miscellaneous updates on your physical health and your mental state, but there are zero indications of where you have vanished from.

With you gone and no reliable trace of your disappearance, there are only two potential outcomes of your whereabouts. Either you are still in Umbrella's clutches or those two cops have taken you for themselves. Six years of contemplation and Ada has finally reached a solution. Not a structured one, but a solution, nonetheless.

Find you, ensure your safety, and pray to God she has enough strength to leave you after.

And you, Y/N L/N, are exactly where Ada thought you'd be. However, the circumstances of your whereabouts are far different than what she presumed them to be.

After Dr. Gorkis, the man you had once called your friend, forced you into a state of unconsciousness, you were comatose for an undisclosed amount of time. When you wake, you are perplexed over your foreign environment. Inspecting your surroundings, there is absolutely nothing that can enlighten you of what happened within the dark gap of your memories.

The room you have awoken in is gloomy, accompanied by the cracked lantern protecting you from complete murk. The stone walls surrounding you are riddled with moss and chains. Several shelves stand awkwardly in the corners, where dilapidated books and broken pots all rest on the rickety surface. A rusted plate sits by your feet. A cluster of flies hover over the mashed potatoes hardened from age and the bread overwhelmed with mold.

You search about for any familiar faces, presumably those of Jill and Carlos. This isn't the first time you've been kidnapped, after all. If they were to lurk in the dark depths of this room, it would surely be no surprise. Instead, the area around you is entirely desolate. Nothing but the sound of your bated breath fills the empty space.

Your neck aches, your head throbs, your body trembles — everything has morphed into a permanent hue of misery you do not recognize. In a morbid way, you could almost be grateful for the circumstances you were kidnapped in before. A beautiful sanctuary, then a lavish home, and now this. A cold, decrepit room with no one to comfort you but yourself.

It's almost comical, how much this has happened to you. However, when you bring your hand to your neck to ease the pain and feel the necklace Carlos gifted you, laughter does not escape you. Alternatively, you curl your fingers around the pearls and yank with what little strength is left in your body. You watch with newfound satisfaction as the pieces clatter to the rotten floorboards.

A new beginning; the next chapter. That is what this feels like.

Stumbling over to the decaying door, it whines as you open it steadily. Haphazardly scanning the area for any potential assailants, you find none. Instead, you find a narrow hallway with lit candles hung upon the decaying walls. The light they exude guides you to a large window smeared with dirt and grime. Outside, the heavy downpour of rain neglects your need to identify your current location.

Your vision then abruptly goes black and an unfathomable pain ensnares your head. It leads you to collapse against the wall as you groan out from the abysmal misery. A voice calls out to you from the depths of your mind. A sort of ghastly incantation. A whisper you would only hear in the presence of a nightmare.

"Pursue them..." It taunts, "The lost lamb is escaping. Deliver onto them... Salvation..."

And just as it had begun, it was over. Your vision has cleared, and the ache in your skull has eased. It was all over.

One glance through the filthy window and fear hits you like a punch to your gut. A group of people dressed in ragged clothing make their presence known, all with pitchforks and axes in hand. Their torches guide them as they follow the muddied path. You can only stare in trepidation as they saunter about like hungry predators in search of prey.

When you hear the chains to the front entrance rattle, you turn and race towards your escape. Up the rotten steps of the ladder, the dingy expanse of the attic does not aid you in your efforts to flee. The light at the end of the tunnel is a shattered window, where the harsh weather brings violent rain and wind into the room. Out of the window, a shed riddled with overgrown ivy sits at a nearly-perfect distance beneath. You'd rather break your ankles than get sacrificed, after all.

Ripping the bandaid off, you leap from the ledge and land clumsily. It is a thunderous collision your assailants most certainly heard. With your feet fortunately intact, you leap from the roof of the shed and sprint away from the chaos behind you.

You hear unintelligible shouts, you hear accelerating footsteps, and you hear gunshots echo from afar. Rain feels like glass as it pours down on you. They meld with your tears and sweat. Your feet are cramped in your new, expensive boots. Still, you do not look back. Even with your lungs aching with every step you take, you continue to race forward as far as your legs can take you.

Several more throbbing paces and you find yourself in the center of a village. Dilapidated houses are scattered around the grounds, while large mountains frame the small area. Shifting your gaze forward, you find a rickety signpost. Signs that once read locations had now been overwhelmed with blood. The words 'Los Iluminados' and 'Lord Saddler' were painted in the red matter.

In a fit of enervation, you fall to the dirt. The substance stains your body and clothes, something Jill and Carlos put so much effort into preserving. You feel a sense of trepidation when your thoughts subconsciously drift to those two. Staring down at yourself, you see how every inch of you is still marked in their possession. The scent of Carlos' cologne still clings to his jacket that he draped around you. The shoelaces Jill quadruple-knotted have now been torn, the loose threading dirty and sticking out in awkward directions. Almost as if after all of this turmoil to escape them, their residue was still printed on you.

With air in your lungs after what felt like so long without it, you bring yourself to your feet. You clench your aching abdomen before limping forward. You then ponder over how you'll recount this absurd story to the police.

Then, you're flying.

Something wraps around your waist and yanks. Before you can comprehend it, the ground grows further, further, and further away from you.

With an exclaim of surprise, you land on the flat ledge of a mountain. You don't have a chance to acknowledge the impossible explanation of you defying gravity. Not when your breath gets lodged in your throat when you find the source of the sudden occurrence.

Ada Wong is that very source.

You stare up at her with the same disbelief she possessed. And this sight of you is surely something she will never forget.

The lick of sun in your eyes has never faltered, despite the years of chaos and disarray you’ve endured. The rain speckles across your body and cascades down your flesh, almost as if it was savoring every inch of you it got to touch. Bruises sit like kisses upon your skin; blood is painted on you like a vermillion art piece. Exactly the way it was six years ago.

Ada has found you. And the intensity of the euphoria that follows could be enough to kill a man, she is sure of it.

It is gut-wrenching, how beautifully nostalgic the sight is. This time, however, she will not allow any unwelcome guests to intrude.

Ada returns her grapple gun to the holster and crouches down beside you. A tender, gloved hand finds its way to your waist. It shivers and hovers, terrified of the emotions she'll be unable to control when she makes contact. Terrified of feeling nothing but cold sheets beneath her and waking up from this dream. When her hand does find you, as it always will, a hot chill surges through her body. Ada can hardly gather herself as the revelation settles. You are safe, you are alive, and you are with her again.

The other hand finds your cheek. The dandelion-pressed ring pokes against your skin, a firm reminder of how long this devotion has lived. She can feel the Earth sparkling in her palms with her hands on you; she can feel the warmth of the stars with your flesh against hers. Every bone, every sinew, every vein — everything good the universe have to offer is right beneath her. So, she does what she wished to do before, but was interrupted. What she has dreamt of doing for years, but was not able to do. She does what she has always wanted to do.

Her lips are on yours faster than you could think.

Everything inside her... Melts.

Rain falls like confetti. The frigid temperatures ease from the heat you share together. Every jut and curve of your lips mold perfectly against hers, as if you were made for each other. It robs her breath straight from her lungs, it robs her brain of any coherent function. The thumping of her heart batters in her ears as though it were trying to lunge from her chest with its sheer, rampant speeds. Her hands shiver with fervent need. The lump in her throat remains lodged no matter how much she tries to swallow it. What on Earth are you doing to her?

Your kiss is more soul-crushing than she would like to admit, as pride has always been her most prized possession. And it is all so stupidly cliché that Ada could almost laugh. A kiss in the rain. She never thought she would experience something as tooth-rotting and romantic as this. Still, it succeeds in practically shattering what remains of her moral compass. The suave and collected Ada Wong has been shattered. And the devil on her shoulder begs her to indulge in every last sliver of you she can.

She's a woman of self-control, but you had torn that control straight from her hands and claimed it as yours. She's a woman with tight fists and cruel words, but you have taken every rough edge and filed them down to soft curves.

When you inevitably part, Ada follows the direction your lips go, absolutely desperate for another taste. She is practically inconsolable without your warmth.

"Y/N..." She gasps out your name. It's a silent prayer for more of this, for more of you.

Dark webs of veins then spread among your face like woven spider's silk. It causes your vision to blur and your ears to ring. You wince from the sudden surge of pain and recoil from Ada's touch, something she didn't anticipate being so gutted by. The agony pumps through your veins like a drug; it has you writhing and groaning against the mud. It practically robs you of all your senses, the only comprehensible thing being the torture inflicted upon your feeble body.

Ada is then forcefully brought to reality where she is cruelly reminded of how this is not real. She cannot have you and you were never meant to be hers. No matter how badly she wishes you could be.

When you turn over, clutching your stomach in pain, she places her hand on your shoulder. Your eyebrows scrunched in confused pain, face wet from the pouring rain, lips sheen from her lip gloss. You are beautiful in the most devastating way. The sight bursts her heart open as if someone has nestled a bomb in her chest cavity. But, how she feels in this moment is not important. The one thing she has torn herself apart to prevent is now happening. You are hurting.

"What- What's happening to me!?" You cry out, a chunk of blood splattering from your mouth when you cough.

"Y/N... My petal...!" Ada's thumb rubs soothing circles on your arm while her cheek rests against the same surface. She clutches onto you like you're her lifeline, her last sliver of hope.

A voice interrupts. "Ada! I've been looking everywhere for-"

Ada rips her gun from its holster and points it at the intruder in fervent speed. She is terrified of being torn away from you like she was several years ago, she cannot let it happen again.

Luis Sera puts his hands up in defense, eyes blown wide in shock from her sudden shift in nature. In one hand of his is a dirtied white box with tape sloppily wrapped around the frame. He shakes it timidly, diverting her attention to what is most important about their agreement. Cure Ada of the infection and she'll let him take a seat on her helicopter.

Her stance does not halter, however. Instead, she throws yet another demand his way.

"Cure them." She orders. A perceptible tinge of despair is present in her tone.

When he remains frozen, Ada steps closer and presses the barrel of her gun directly to his forehead.

"Cure them or you know what happens." Her stare is violent. Her disposition is terrifying. There is nothing but the honest, undying truth with every syllable she speaks.

"I- But, our deal-?"

A gunshot echoes.

Deafening. Heart-stopping. The sound is accompanied by the harsh thump of Luis' dead body. Horrifying.

Ada takes the box from his limp grasp. She flips his deceased body over and steals the sample of Amber doused in blood, shoving it into her pocket. Using her sharp nails and an impromptu knife, she then slices the tape from the box. Once she hastily takes the syringe from its plastic enclosure, she rushes over to you.

Her behavior endures an abrupt shift when she crouches at your side. From a blood-thirsty monster to a fluffy-winged angel, Ada caresses your skin as if it were fine silk. You whimper as you float in and out of consciousness. You are so inert, in fact, you do not feel the intrusion of a needle and the anecdote seeping through your bloodstream. Ada comforts you through this entire process. Caresses to your flesh, kisses to your skin — she does it all terrified of it being the last time she ever touches you.

With the key to Luis' laboratory, she knows what her next course of action is. What she originally anticipated to be a quick check-up on your well-being had manifested into awakening her deep, irreparable fervor for you. But, she cannot let her measly emotions blind her to what is most important. You and only you.

She will stay, cure you, and pray to God once more that she has enough strength to leave you after.

And it kills her more than she ever thought it would.

When you wake, you find a blinding, fluorescent light hanging above your head. Cold metal and jagged leather nestles into your skin. The tapping of keyboards and technology humming fills the silence. You could almost roll your eyes if it weren't for the confusion overruling all. Have you been kidnapped again?

Attempting to gain mobility and move your body was entirely fruitless. Instead, a weak whine is all you can conjure. The frail sound is immediately met with the affections of someone else in the room.

Even in these circumstances — the grungy expanse of Luis' lab and Ada's dead parasite on the ground — she has never felt such euphoria. The severity of these feelings terrifies her, but she cannot help but fall into the emotions like a child would jump into a swimming pool. To be with you, there is nothing she could ever want more. But, as she has firmly stated numerous times, she cannot be selfish with you. No matter how badly she wishes to do such.

"Everything is going to be alright, petal. I won't let anything happen to you... Never again..." Another kiss is pressed upon your forehead. Ada's lip gloss stirs with the icy sweat beaming on your flesh.

One tap to the computer and the machinery whirs to life. Three lasers then protrude into you and begin to eradicate the Las Plagas inside of your body.

A horrible, gut-wrenching scream evades the room. Agony hits you like a tidal wave. You shout, you wail, you sob. You are in such horrendous pain, it is impossible to keep quiet. Your relentless squirming to escape the source of such misery was futile, as the restraints around your wrists keep you compliant and subject to this torment. Reassurances of "I'm here, petal" fail to conquer the sheer volume of your cries. Ada takes your hand, peppering kisses and nuzzles upon any surface of skin she can reach. Soul-crushing dread satiates her body upon seeing you in such pain. It is hurting her more than it is hurting you.

How could she have been so ignorant? How could she have let your suffering get to this point?

How could she have possibly lived every day oblivious to your well-being? How can she live with herself now knowing she had so carelessly neglected you?

How can she possibly live without you?

And as fast as it started, it was all over. The hum of the machinery silences. A vibrant "SUCCESS" flashes on the computer screen. Ease envelops your body like a warm blanket and for the umpteenth time that day, you doze off. It's a slumber like never before, where the sheer exhaustion derived from the most eventful 24 hours of your life has finally boiled over.

You now lay there. Lifeless.

"Y-... Y/N...?" Ada's voice barely surfaces above a whisper.

The death grip you had on her hand weakened and Ada never anticipated the sheer terror it would make her feel. The fear is a heavy weight on her chest, a tremor in her body. Something wet cascades down her cheeks. With skepticism, she brings her gloved hand to her face to identify the strange substance.

She's... crying?

Ada can't remember the last time she had cried. Her entire life she has powered through any turmoil with her chin held high and a stone-cold soul. Never was she allowed to feel, hence the secure control she has over herself. Now, however, the emotions escape through her facade the way a gunshot wound bleeds through a dirty bandaid.

Your flesh is cold, your body is painfully still. Ada can not bring herself to consider the conclusion that pokes and prods at her mind. Where the big heart she fell in love with stops beating. Where the eyes she'd give her life to gazes in forever loses their light. Where the only good thing this disgusting world has to offer is taken away.

Where she loses hold of the only happiness she has ever felt.

The clinical logic that had always benefited her has now become her worst enemy. Ada scans your body from head to toe, desperate for even the smallest sliver of life. More gasps of your name pervade the room, as well as the gentle, yet desperate nudges to your body in hopes of waking you from your slumber.

Ensuring you are safe, happy, and far away from the dangers within her own life has become her only purpose. Without you, Ada is now lost within the whorls of her empty, dreary world.

The woman is full-on weeping now. It had been so long, she had forgotten what it felt like to cry altogether. Her face twists with every ugly sob parting from her mouth. Her form convulses with each uncontrollable cry protruding out of her chest. Ada has become a mess of snot and tears, surely a sight the old version of her would be revolted by.

A cough fills the lonely silence. And the groggy sound could rival an angel's symphony with its raw beauty.

Alive.

You are alive.

"Hey, you did it...!" You manage to wheeze out upon seeing your status on the computer screen, voice dazed and crooked.

A smile, albeit a weak one, breaks out on your face and Ada swears she has not ever seen a sight so breathtaking. Her hands cling to your face, searching every inch to ensure she hasn't lost the only thing she could ever love. And then, she smiles. Ada smiles like she never has before; Ada smiles like she has never known pain. It is nearly deranged, how blinding and exhilarating the emotions on her face are.

She speaks before her brain can compute the consequences of her next actions.

"I love you."

The three words are spoken with such acute clarity, it is difficult to not be completely entranced by them. Ada's eyes are blown wide as her gaze sinks into yours. Her body trembles from the irrepressible fear mixed with relief coursing through her. For the first time in (quite literally) forever, she is telling the pure, unadulterated truth. However, your lack of reciprocation causes Ada's logic to fully take control of her mind. You do not love her. And as impossible as it is, she must force herself to not love you. But God, you do not make it easy.

"I-I mean- Did you have any doubt, petal? I should be offended you think so low of me. But, with those eyes, how could I be?" The tremble in her voice jeopardizes her attempt at swiftly building vanity.

You don't respond to her, you can't respond. All you can think about is how you nearly died and how Jill and Carlos will surely slit her throat for what she has done.

Ada glances down at the ring on her finger, the very thing that has held her over these past six years. It is almost humiliating to wear it. To know its existence is because of her inability to move on from this stupid crush that has somehow harbored full control of her life. Then again, Ada cannot bear to ever part from it. The thought makes her queasy, like a boat swaying against harsh waves of melancholic uncertainty. To toss the ring overboard would mean completely succumbing to the force of the sea, to drown in the heavy mass of her feelings. Cursed for eternity with stagnant sorrow.

And even though the truth strikes like a knife, Ada must commit to the plan she originally formed. Bring you to safety and pray to God once again that she has enough strength to leave you after.

"Three times..." You whisper to yourself in disbelief, your voice a ghost that Ada can hardly decipher.

With furrowed brows and a quiet hum of question, she beckons you to continue.

"Only six years and I have managed to get kidnapped not once, not twice, but three times. That's gotta earn me a place in Guinness, right?"

She reads through your attempt at masking your prevailing emotions with humor. That playful attitude, how deeply she loves it. And how devastatingly difficult it is for her to fall out of love with it. In these circumstances, when your lively demeanor is used to shield yourself from pain, it quickly festers into something she despises.

Even through everything that has happened, you are still playful. Cracking jokes, making comical jests. Just like you did all those years ago. Ada could almost be angry at you for this, for making her fall so clumsily in love with you. Almost.

"First, it was Umbrella. They had never hurt me, so I never felt they deserved the title of "kidnappers," but I guess my naivety is what got me into this shit in the first place."

This 'naivety' you speak so poorly of is mistaken for the honest warmth of your heart. You have this beautiful ability to find positivity, light, and kindness in the ugly world. Yet again, another reason why it is impossible for her to untangle you from her heartstrings. She does not speak of this, however. She is afriad of vomiting out every syllable of adoration her voice could muster.

"Then, it was..."

You hesitate, a subtlety Ada does not overlook.

"Jill and Carlos." Their names sit like rotten fruit on your tongue.

You cringe upon imagining how those two would surely react to you now, fawning over your current state as if you're some baby lamb. They nearly have a breakdown from something as mere as a paper cut, you cannot imagine the absolute warfare they'd induce upon seeing you now. Beaten, bloodied, and your organs practically on fire from the laser-induced torture they had just endured. Though, it feels strangely good to be able to breathe without them.

"A little over six months is how long they kept me. Again, they never hurt me, so it feels wrong of me to call them "kidnappers"... When I think too hard about it, I know it is what they are, I just never wanted to admit it. God, they took my freedom like it was pocket change!"

The sneer you hold has nothing against the absolute fury stretched among Ada's face.

"In the end, I escaped. I-I didn't know where I intended to go or what my plan was, but now I really, really don't know what to do..."

To make matters worse, you curl into yourself and begin to cry. It kills her to do such, but she must hold herself back, as giving you comfort would only add fuel to the fire that is her devotion to you. And to refrain from scooping you in her arms is practically killing her. To not be able to touch and comfort you, Ada knows that this is the universe testing her. No, torturing her. Every mistake, every flaw, every selfish deed — this is the karma that caught up to her after a lifetime of running from its inevitability.

"And I'm just so scared. I know they're gonna find me again and I won't be able to escape them. I'll never be free. I'll be running forever until I either submit to them o-or die!"

A beat passes when another unwelcome, unruly sob escapes your throat. The sheer calamity of this day had prevented you from processing these events. Now, the exhaustion and anguish are too much for you to bottle up.

"Oh, petal..." As you cry, Ada's long acrylics dig into the meat of her palm.

She refrains from caressing the warm skin of your shoulder. She holds herself back from pressing another tender kiss to your forehead. To prevent herself from doing such feels like suffocating. As if the heavy mass of her burning desires became physical matter and were now crushing her.

"Ada, I can't thank you enough for all you have done for me." Your gratitude is certainly not taken for granted, as every pretty word falls from your mouth and directly into the mosaic of her heart.

She cannot be in love with you anymore. She can't, she can't, she can't.

"I'm sorry for being so selfish, but please..." With helpless desperation in your eyes, you plead as though your words do not make her absolutely weak.

She must stay strong, she must complete her plan. Find you, ensure your safety, and pray to God she has enough strength to leave you after.

"Don't leave me..."

Welp, there goes that plan.

She would slaughter every soul before she'd admit it to herself, but turning her back on it has now done more harm than good.

You make her soft.

Needy.

Hungry.

You have rendered her to the same disposition of an animal, entirely feral for any chunk of you she can sink her teeth into.

"I'm right here, petal... I'm not going anywhere."

Ada Wong has let go. And you are oblivious to the consequences of this.

The resistance she once had has now faded. For six years, these tree roots have coiled around her limbs, keeping her restrained within the suffocating soil. Today, they have untangled themselves. Ada surfaces the thick dirt to find Spring in its most genuine, vulnerable time. Bunnies chase through the blossoming flowers. Trees dance with the gentle breeze. Fresh rivers flow through the bright forest. The war has ended; the torture is over.

You are at her side and there is nothing Ada could ever want more.

When she guides you out of the laboratory, she informs you of the helicopter that will soon arrive. If you weren't seconds away from succumbing to exhaustion, you'd notice the terrifying, devoted undertones beneath her structured facade. There is a man and a woman you have seen this behavior in too well, after all. However, Ada's ability to maintain herself differs from Jill and Carlos' messy aptitude.

She says your name, beckoning you to follow her. Y/N. It feels so good to say it, to have the sugary word on her tongue. It feels so good to speak it into the air and watch those eyes gaze at her with wonder, the same wonder she has fallen so hopelessly in love with. The bliss that follows after you should be considered a crime with the sheer effect it has on her. Then again, Ada was never one to follow the rules.

The two of you both race through the many twists and turns that scatter the island. Shipping containers, cargo lifts, and barrels splattered with yellow paint, you and Ada dodge the obstacles in your path. And still, she protects you with her life. Just as she had wholly promised.

Back in Raccoon City, she had lost control. She cannot afford to lose that control again, not when losing you is a possibility. Her mindless infatuation had already thrust you into danger, she would die if she let it happen once more.

With burning lungs and weak legs, you both finally arrive at the loading docks. Ada doesn't break a sweat as she tells you the helicopter will be arriving shortly. You collapse onto a pile of brown, paper sacks, now finally given a moment of rest after so many exhausting hours without it. You could nearly cry with relief.

The creak and whine of footsteps against the thin metal floors pervade the air.

A voice speaks.

"Y/N...!?"

You both look to identify the voice.

Your stomach sinks like an anchor at sea.

Leon Kennedy.

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ I CARE FOR YOU STILL

AND I WILL FOREVER . . . ❞

this is what i imaged ada's flower-pressed ring to look like. and this is what i imagined the teddy bear necklace carlos gave reader looks like.

gif creds :: ada.

[just-seff-stuff]

Had this dream last night

The dream itself doesn't matter but there was a book in that dream

This book… I'm inferring from a lot of small details here, but I believe it was about a teensy borrower witch studying magic from in the walls of this magic academy. Prominent characters are the two friends she meets quite against her will and has to stay around due to some mishap

The borrower is a massive perfectionist, super high-strung, and her friends are:

A noble girl (maybe vampire, don't remember) who's always having her tea parties, strongly believes in rest as a cure for everything, lazy but in an elegant way, annoys the teensy witch to no end but also sews teensy clothes for her

A werewolf girl who's generally quite untidy, does whatever she wants, just wants to have fun, very impulsive, cannot follow a schedule. Is always taking the borrower gal somewhere without asking first, will be quite a task to tame.

because super well-organized and put-together borrower girl having to deal with lazy or disorganized giants is one of my absolute favourites heheeee

The three of them, over the course of a few books (I think I saw 4, but there might've been more) uncover conspiracies at the school (by which I mean the borrower girl mentions conversations she overheard and the other two go "wait wtf something's wrong here"), the borrower girl learns to loosen up a little and gets a little less judgy about the ways other people choose to live, and she helps her friends study (and makes them attend just a few more classes like c'mon guys you can't just miss EVERYTHING this is IMPORTANT how can you actually be able to attend the classes I can only LISTEN TO from inside the goddamn WALLS and just CHOOSE not to attend?!

yeah she definitely has issues

OH also the cover of the second book was her falling backwards into/off of something while shooting purple magic at a monster which, if you look closer, is a rat

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 19: Overstimulation

Pairing: (G)I-DLE Miyeon x Male Reader

Word Count: 4,411

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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“Tone it down, dadd—oh…”

If only these people knew what’s with Miyeon right now—well, it doesn’t matter because you’re the only one who’ll get to know what lies beneath her.

It’s not even surprising and more than a being less of an expectation—Miyeon’s as just as naughty as you remember and it’s within your accord to punish her or make her life a living hell.

“You show up like this, then you’ll face the consequences.” You grit your teeth as every word is villainous, willing to break her demeanor into a whimpering mess until she can’t contain it anymore. You play with the buttons on the remote as clenched her thighs from time to time, feeling such rage of pleasure that’s becoming too much but you didn’t care—you will make her learn a lesson, no matter if it’s going to be just exclusively the both of you or in a public restaurant and guess what, it’s only getting started.

“P-Please, daddy—hngg, ahh—no, please t-tone it down…”

You scowl at her in aims to intimidate her, making her feel a bit of regret yet at the same time, she’s loving this as much as you do but Miyeon knows to herself that she doesn’t want to end up in a filthy predicament in a public place.

“You did this to yourself, Miyeon—” You can hear small whimpers as the vibration gets worse with your own control, as with that, she’s just fighting the urge to erotically moan as she’s feeling too much pleasure right now that can’t eat her food right. “—then deal with it.”

You could sense how she’s getting drenched right now and how needy she is because of your actions—you like the sight of this, her pretty, submissive face begging for you to stop is just a sight to behold and to be treasured. Of course, you won’t give her even an ounce of mercy as her pleas just fuels the fire inside you to further tease her.

And so, you did.

Her hands shiver once you’ve increased the intensity of the toy shoved up in her ass, and with that, she can’t fight the feeling of such euphoric essence and let out almost-inaudible moans that could possibly turn on any other men that could lie an ear to hear it. With her iron wall still standing strong, she manages to still fight it yet it’s impossible to ignore the gratification it gives her—it’s clear that she’ll soon collapse and you’ll like to make it evident, probably leaving a mark of her own juices onto the restaurant’s sofa as you smirk while getting such spoonful of your food because of your evil plan.

You won’t give her some time to breathe as you play within little-to-no vibrations up the maximum one at random intervals and with that, it’s all converging to what you had in plan as Miyeon lets out such ragged breaths with the pleasure running down her veins. With her begs for you, you absolutely dismissed any chance of being merciful to this greedy slut—you will always learn your lesson for not falling for her tricks anymore, and let her taste her own medicine.

You’ll live her up to that epitome of an oxymoron—make her life miserable yet pleasurable, at the same time.

“Excuse me, waiter—can you please come here for a second?” You then call the gentleman just feet away from you as you want something that will satisfy your needs and probably, even Miyeon’s. You then reach for the menu beside you as your eyes scout all over the beautiful pictures of food and labels, deciding on what dessert you may want to call this a day. “Can I get uhm… your signature chocolate cake, just a single slice and oh, what’s yours, Miyeon?”

Of course, you’ll make the pleasure-ridden girl fight for her dignity for her own chances of survival and to further test her, when she’s ordering, you’ve set the vibration meter to the maximum as it goes well according to plain—Miyeon herself is visibly struggling but manages to pounce her way through her struggles, her demeanor full of sophistication and class (maybe add a little stutters but didn’t do the trick) as the waiter didn’t even suspect of anything that may feel off. As soon as the waiter said that he will be back for your orders, Miyeon’s breath of relief can be seen evident as she manages to battle with the pleasure that can ruin everything, glaring at you because of it.

“Daddy—w-why when I’m o-ordering—hng, just why?”

“Don’t you like the risk, Miyeon?” You bat out such venom-laced words, your tone sinister as you intimidate her with your own control. “Like I said earlier, you’ve got yourself into this now bear with it.”

You then continued to tease, marking her to be still on the verge of letting her profanities be released from its concealment and you will make her punished for this.

It’s only getting started and this will be such an interesting bit if she’ll manage to stay sturdy with her faulty demeanor…

---

“B-But why at the r-restaurant, daddy? I was on the verge of cumming too, but just why??”

There she goes with her own frustrated remarks—well, just so you know that you expected this long ago, knowing how your teases earlier can make her feisty because she’s on the verge of a possible predicament, which you may find hilarious.

Just for context, Miyeon love going out with you with an added twist, making it kinkier for herself and you, knowing that she trusts you, decided for you to control the buttplug inside her in times where it’ll be safe and you know you’re not a merciful guy when bestowed a tool for punishment. Well, maybe she wouldn’t take this chance again as you took it for granted but here’s the thing—you’re always in control and things go onto your own accord and you’re just utilizing and testing her for your amusement and her torment.

Of course, deep inside her, she’s not tormented at all and rather even loved the way you played with her, dangling off to the edge of the cliff, affording risks that would’ve gone wrong if speculated but the both of you didn’t, so with the given conclusion, it was just right to do such things for both delighted emotions.

“Don’t lie to me—you loved this shit, Miyeon, you always do.”  You snap her into the reality of things, making her eyes open to swerve out to the lane of hypocrisy and make her face that she loved this—you can see it in her, those glowing orbs filled with lust and temptation, it’s all in her.

“I did but—not t-there, daddy! What if the waiter suspected something?” No one suspected anything, not even a single hint of evidence was seen.

“What if someone found out about this and made fun of me?” Chances are slim to none about that; there’s no way on earth that they’ll know Miyeon has a vibrating buttplug up in her ass.

“What if they smelled something off on the couch?” Maybe they may but it wouldn’t be obvious, and there’s nothing they can do about it as it already happens—nonetheless, they won’t even speculate a thing.

Maybe it’s just Miyeon becoming embarrassed and overthinking things that shouldn’t be—you know how uneasy and how these things can’t easily brush off her mind. Reassuring her, you told her that legitimately, nothing is left behind and there’s no way she should be embarrassed, but rather find it rather an opportunity to test her will and her mental strength to endure her own idea.

“Now you made me really horny, daddy—then do something about it…”

You sigh deeply, knowing the inevitable will soon come for another filthy climax between the both of you yet of course, you need to tame her down to the passenger seat as you have business of keeping eyes and your attention averted all towards the road and you’ll sure make her needs completely fulfilled.

“When we get home, Miyeon. I’m going to fucking ruin that tight hole of yours and of course, you.”

---

When the night settles, everything falls dark, onto the lustful abyss of no-return and the both of you would absolutely indulge onto your deepest desires, no matter what may happen. Maybe, no one can stop the both of you unless yourselves and to further seal the debauchery, the both of you settled onto your deepest, lustful hunger between both parties, lips clashing together like you’ve been deprived of each other’s tastes for epochs.

“You definitely improved, Miyeon…”

“Learned from the best.” Miyeon smiles at you, feeling proud with what you’ve created her to be as you further indulge onto the kiss again, locking tongues and dominating each other with aims for the other to fall in submissive yet that won’t you—it’ll be Miyeon. Soon enough, oxygen will be the ones to be blamed as you pull yourself out of the embrace of her soft, luscious lips and with the tension in the air rising until it’s damned to be in that elevation of lust. Miyeon, with her patience growing low, proposes her long-awaited needs for you as you took this as her vulnerable spot as everytime she pleads for something, she ends up falling submissive and you’ll do that again for like, a hundredth time. With the prey latching onto the trap of its feral predator, you caught it and seized that opportunity as didn’t even bother escaping but rather, submerging onto her needs.

“You want that, Miyeon?” She yelps with your proactive attempts to further make her succumb onto the pleasure, playing with the controls of the remote as her thighs quiver as soon as it vibrates around her prostate. “Now strip for me, Miyeon—better do it quickly since you’ve made the feeling mutual since the beginning.” And she would be glad to start you off with her to blame as the first one. No hesitation can be seen from her face as she strips her clothing whilst visibly struggling due to the intense gratification coursing down her veins caused by the vibrating buttplug that’s up in her ass.

It didn’t really take that long to undress herself because of how easy it can be undone and how skilled she is, fulfilling your needs of a sight of her perfect, impeccable body. You’re not going to lie, that outfit of Miyeon is simply elegant and simple that you don’t want her to strip it away but it must be done, knowing how it’s way better when those are on the floor, and her scrumptious, naked body is all on your sight. With her last defense down on her body, your eyes lit as you’re allured with the incredible sight of her tight body—her perky breasts, slender waist, breedable hips, supple butt and as the cherry on top, her succulent, dripping pussy—and swiftly approached her, before grabbing her wrists and pinned her down to the bed with not much effort because of your strength.

“You wanted this so bad, hm, Miyeon?” Your fingers then trace towards the porcelain skin of her body, up to neck then down to her nether regions in which she can’t help but let out such sultry moans as the pleasure is starting to get more intense because of your actions. 

Again, you’re a man of your word—not merciful; selfish with your own needs and what comply with those? To stimulate her further than what she can take and you’ll let her achieve that in no time.

Well, there’s already that mind-boggling headstart with the buttplug’s constant vibrations that sends multiple magnitudes of pleasure throughout her body and with your hands constantly caressing and fondling what skin you may find to further send her your regards of affections, she can’t help but just submit onto your control and continues to voice out the intense feeling of gratification.

“Oh—ohh, r-right there, daddy—ahh, t-that feels so g-good!” Miyeon mewls in pleasure as you continue swiping your fingers onto her clit and fondling her perky breasts, aiming for her to reach an incredible sensation of delight even without a deep penetration. Miyeon knows how your fingers can make her cum inevitably hard and you’re probably on the right track with that—you know deep inside that she likes it so much but you won’t get her into that high that easily.

Now, coursing your way onto the delectable treat that no dessert can’t top off, you latch your lips onto those succulent pussy of hers and gave it multiple pecks before letting your tongue do the action, the final enemy raging its way onto nearing Miyeon’s high and even though she wants to fight the urge, she can’t as there’s too much that’s happening that she can’t think straight—all she can do is moan and call out your name, too drowned in the sea of pleasure with no aims of going back up.

The inevitable mellifluous nectar runs down like rivulets onto your tongue, lapping every drop and savoring it as you hum insatisfaction, further stimulating her as you get onto the remote again and play with the controls of the buttplug. You can hear the constant buzzing sound of it as you voraciously eat Miyeon and it further adds to the filthy essence the both of you are exuding, as well as Miyeon’s angelic cacophony of moans. It repeats all in a cycle: caress her waist, lap your tongue against her lower lips, stimulate her clit with fingers, play with the controls, and so on until she becomes a whimpering mess. Her juices constantly flow freely down your mouth, your chin and some of the ungrateful ones messing up the bed sheets and the sullied sight of this while eating her out should be treasured, unlocking another filthy memory.

Of course, this would be her Achilles’ heel—your tongue, that pink-fleshed culprit is the bane of her tough will as it always sends her defenses crumbling down into a state of complete eradication, leaving her vulnerable for more tricks up your sleeve.

And just like that, in less than approximately four minutes—maybe it’s just your gut feeling knowing the nigh-accuracy of the time—she’s going to be achieve one of her long-awaited highs after being edged by you for so long as she continues to voice out how near she is.

“Oh n-no—I’m n-not gonna hold on for so l-long!” Or will she?

It’s within your own accord, your own regulations—no needs will be attended first unless it’s you; you’re to only one who gets to an orgasmic trance first before Miyeon, and that, she would’ve known that before she clouded her mind with pleasure (saying if she can even think straight because of the utmost gratification).

“Daddy!! Why’d y-you stop??” Miyeon whines, responsively because of your actions ceased to deny her high, which made her a little frustrated because of an enormous spike suddenly meeting the trenches of the lowest points possible. You smirk in delight because of your sinister advances, turning off the vibration and pulling your tongue and your mouth out of her sweetness and this, is just the beginning of the show you’re directing—of course you’re the director, the obvious control over her is a strong evidence, piece beautifully for the best, erotic output.

“It’s time for the main event, Miyeon, that’s why.” You rose up from your previous kneeling position as you quickly stripped your clothing, wanting to be equally as naked as the beautiful goddess in front of you. It didn’t take that long for your clothes to be deemed useless on the floor as you fondled her perky breasts, letting out another series of angelic moans that will make any man submerge onto their needs and to totally ruin the girl in front of them.

Well, you’re on the verge of that, and you’ll make this worth both of your time.

 “You know how badly you made daddy horny, right?” Miyeon nods as she looks at your eyes, endeared by the affection you’ve bestowed on her as her eyes glint with lust and anticipation, fully-invested into what you may have in store for her. Her hands immediately coursed its way onto your muscular arms, giving herself a leverage for the pleasure she’s been fighting since the beginning and now with your rock-hard shaft finally adding to the play, it’s time to make this a tale for more years to come.

Well, yes, in that context because you’ll treasure this moment until the end of time, because every session with Miyeon is just peak-class and ecstasy. Your cock then runs onto her lower lips, teasing it as well as setting the buttplug onto a moderate vibration, aiming to fully stimulate her before the main event. Growing yourself impatient as your needs are becoming too much for you to bear, you won’t help yourself but sink into your lustful desires.

“Then you’ll get what you want, Miyeon…” You didn’t give her some time to comprehend what’s happening and further lock onto the lustful fate of yours, plunging your entire length deep inside her and immediately picking up a moderate pace for the both of you to savor and relish. She cries in your own control over her, being too stimulated with your masterclass as everything is just overflowing her needs—the constant fondling of her mounds, your lips latching onto her neck and collarbones from time to time, the buttplug vibrating to massage her prostate and further turn her on and the constant ramming of your length inside her, hitting every spot that it made her almost scream every time your head hits her womb. 

This almost feels like a fever dream and somehow, way more enchanting than your past sessions—maybe it’s because of her added quality of moans, voiced by the toy that she has up her ass since earlier and the sight of her erotic, lewd face making such expressions of lust makes everything go higher than your expectations. You won’t dare to complain but rather, indulge onto a better pace as you grip her hips harshly, further pounding her into the mattress with a newly profound pace that’s maybe able to break the speed you’re hips was expecting to muster—such breakneck velocity was caused by your own need to sully her, and you would to end her up into that kind of a mess, a disheveled, ruined mess of a goddess.

Also, it’s always such a pleasurable and an addicting act to be inside Miyeon of all times, disregarding such intimate and anticipating foreplay because of her utter tightness that makes you love her even more. The way those velvety walls clench around your rapidly-thrusting shaft is such an elevating experience of delight and lust that you can’t ask for more, and rather, you’d love to make it frequent. Frequency is an understatement, because it has been always the case in every thrust you do but you wanted more, so, you gave her barrages of spanks as every time you do it, you can feel her walls inevitably clenching and making the session hotter and maybe even more pleasurable to be true.

“Fuck m-me harder—ahh, daddy—ohh, please!!”

“Of course I will, Miyeon—” You grip her hips like it’s about to get bruised as you lean down closer towards her ear, and whisper, “—I’m going to fill up this slutty pussy, up to the hilt.”

Given your words of fulfillment, you double the efforts your hips can maintain and fucked her like an animal, and like how she deserves it. Of course, your hips won’t be the ones only doing the work to stimulate her, as you set the maximum vibration of the buttplug as well as your hands caressing every inch of her body as much as possible. Her senses are now at her all-time high, having the most gratification she’ve felt all throughout the year and it’s just enchanting to feel how everything may seem surreal but it isn’t—it may elevate more than reality itself but everything is real, and with all of that pleasure coursing down her veins, the inevitable wouldn’t take long to introduce itself.

“I’m s-so close, daddy—gahh, please l-let me cum, please! Oh, please, dadd—oh fuck, please!” Constant pleads can be heard ringing around your ear the further you fuck her into oblivion. Now just being able to utter the same words and phrases as your cock made her thinking limited because of being clouded with sex, you wouldn’t want to hear her redundant pleas and would rather fulfill her needs and to make her a whimpering mess.

“You really want to cum on my cock, Miyeon?” A simple question, but bound to break such barriers of hesitance and can portrays thousands of emotions of lust and without even thinking about it, Miyeon nodded at you as she continues to repetitively moan in need and with her juices constantly leaking out on you like a broken faucet, you know it’s time for her anticipated orgasm. “Then cum on my cock, you gorgeous slut—”

And she did, instantly. Her face exudes such epitome of lust and eroticism that you can’t define the beauty beneath it—it’s just the paramount of it as she’s in pure ecstasy, and maybe even you. You pull out of her tightness as she sprays her treasured nectar all over the vicinity: your cock, your pelvis, onto the bed sheets and some, landing onto the dark, marble floor. When she’s still on her high, you brush your cockhead onto her pulsating lips as every inch was blessed by her juices and once her orgasm has subsided, Miyeon herself insisted to even finish it all inside her, to the point where nothing will be wasted and can’t go back, only indulge yourself into the filthiness that the both of you dived into.

“Fuck m-me hard, d-daddy—please, fuck me hard—oh god, fuck!!”

She doesn’t need to tell you about your harshness and your rapid pace as you read her mind and immediately, does so as you repeatedly gave the fastest thrusts your hips can muster, wrecking and ruining her tight cunt like you have something to prove her—you’ve already proved yourself to her ages ago, and maybe, this will just another rough treatment of pounding her until she can only think about you and your throbbing length.

Knowing that the inevitable will soon come on your side as you can feel it running down your loins, the familiar tingle signaling the near coming of your orgasm and it wouldn’t take long before you submerge onto it. Wanting Miyeon to achieve her high again—she’s also getting close because of too much stimulation because of your actions and the constant pulsations, clenching and her utter wetness are such evidences to know how near she is to achieve that high—you work onto fondling her perky mounds and latched your lips onto her taut buds, kissing and pecking it in order to make her brain go haywire and with her profanities being constantly voiced out, you know it’s going to be near and this would be the paramount of the show.

“God—are you g-going to cum again, Miyeon?”

“Yes, d-daddy! Please c-cum inside me too—I k-know—gahh, y-you want to—fuck, please, d-daddy!!”

Not going to hold anything just to savor the feeling, you will embrace the inevitable as you bury your entire length in her, filling her up to the hilt as you fall onto your deepest desires, shooting your treasured seed deep inside of her as you fill every inch of her velvety walls full of your cream. The both of your groan in every spurt you deposit inside her pussy, letting both of you exchange such lustful plethoras of sinful compliments towards each other as she holds your arms and smiles at you, loving how this moment is being unveiled into a messy one and will end up on that note too.

After exchanging breaths and beautiful smiles laced with bliss, the both of you shared an intimate kiss as both your lips embraced with aims to show the utmost affection and love between the both of you. Even with the differences and being bugbears, the both of you still show how much you love each other and it’s all pristine and genuine. You deepen the kiss as your primal instincts kick in but it wasn’t nearly aggressive, but rather full of your intimacy and passion towards each other and with your length gradually getting flaccid, you pull out to her only to be met with a view of her folds full of your semen, creaming her beautifully as some of it are seeping out and staining the sheets underneath.

“You c-came so much daddy—filled me up so well…” Miyeon voiced out enervated, and you, smiling with the fact that she always loves being filled up by you and how your loads are consistently making her feel the utmost serendipity inside her.

“Of course—” You caress her cheek and fix her disheveled hair, then smile gleefully at her as you feel the utmost affections towards right now that you want to give her anything in this world. “—all of that because I love you…”

Miyeon blushes from that thought and knows it’s all genuine because within the refulgence of your eyes, it shows how much she means to you. Miyeon then catches you off-guard with a kiss on the lips as she voiced out her exhaustion and drowsiness. “I love you t-too, daddy but, can we please sleep and cuddle tonight? I feel sleepy right now…”

“If that’s what my baby wants, then why not?” You then laid down beside her, and pulled her into an embrace as you didn’t even bother to do anything rather than feeling the warmness of her body complimenting yours.

“Don’t you wanna shower, daddy?”

“Maybe later, Miyeon but for now…” You caressed her cheeks again, stroked her hair and continued, “Let’s just feel each other—cuddle each other, alright?”

With the softness in your heart, you made everything end on a good note as you can already feel Miyeon sleeping onto your chest, her impeccable features all in your sight as all you can feel is how much you adore her and not so long after, you feel yourself succumbing onto your drowsiness as this marks as the end of another spectacular day, maybe hoping for an energizer once the both of you wake up… or maybe even more than that…

[thatlotuscookie]

ok ok, hear me out, hear me out I swear-

a Haikyuu character who's a teacher(you pick which one bc I am indecisive lol) who students don't like because they assign too much HW, x Art-Teacher y/n who's super eccentric and all the students have started calling "Auntie" bc they like her so much... and somehow the students realize they're dating

✧･ﾟ: a/n: hiii thank you for the req anon! i choseTsukishima Kei x art teacher!fem reader cause why not :) sorry for the wait, it got a little busy. please enjoy and thank you for requestinng <3

✧ Title: ✧ Paintbrushes and Equations ✧ ✧ Characters: Math!TeacherTsukishima Kei x Art Teacher!Reader, Fem!Reader ✧ Genre: Fluff, Romance, Slice of Life ✧ Rating: G ✧ Summary: Mr. Tsukishima Kei, the strict math teacher known for his tough assignments, and Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher adored by students, try to keep their budding relationship under wraps. But between secret coffee runs and after-school visits, it doesn’t take long for their students to catch on. ✧ Content/Tags: Secret Relationship, Soft Tsukishima, Teacher AU, Slow-burn Romance, Fluff and Humor ✧ WC: 1126 words // 6.8k chars

Mr. Tsukishima Kei was known as the strict, no-nonsense math teacher, infamous for assigning challenging homework and expecting punctuality from his students. Across the hall, however, was Ms. Y/N, the quirky art teacher who taught in a classroom full of painted murals, plants, and knick-knacks. Her students affectionately called her “Auntie,” loving her warm personality and encouraging nature.

Despite their differences, the two had quietly been dating for some time now, keeping things subtle so as not to spark gossip in the school hallways. But as careful as they tried to be, some moments were just too sweet to hide from their observant students.

Every morning, Tsukishima would stop by Y/N’s room before classes started. Though their relationship was mostly kept under wraps, there was one routine they couldn’t help but share—he’d bring her coffee, just the way she liked it, and stay for a few moments before his first class.

One particular morning, a student passing by happened to catch sight of them. Y/N was sitting at her desk, fiddling with paintbrushes while Tsukishima leaned against the edge of her desk, coffee cup in hand. She looked up at him with a bright smile as he handed her the coffee.

“Thank you, Kei! You know, I think your coffee runs are the best part of my day.”

“Maybe if you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you wouldn’t need this much caffeine,” he replied, rolling his eyes, though there was a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Bedtime? Reasonable? You’re talking to an artist, Kei!” She chuckled, raising her coffee cup in mock cheers.

The student who’d witnessed it ran back to their friends, spilling the details in hushed, excited whispers. “Guys, Auntie totally has Mr. Tsukishima wrapped around her finger. He’s bringing her coffee like it’s a daily thing!”

During lunch breaks, Tsukishima would sometimes slip away from the teachers’ lounge and make his way to Y/N’s art room, which was usually open to students who wanted to work on projects or just hang out with their favorite teacher. Though he’d never admit it out loud, Tsukishima was growing fond of this habit too.

One afternoon, Y/N was holding a brush in each hand, struggling to finish a mural one of her classes had started. Tsukishima approached, watching her for a moment as she fumbled with paint colors.

“Need a hand?” he asked, taking one of the brushes out of her grasp without waiting for an answer. He began painting in neat, deliberate strokes, adding to the vibrant, playful mural.

“Mr. Tsukishima,” Y/N grinned, “are you sure you can handle all this color?”

He just shrugged, pretending to be annoyed, but there was a glint in his eye. “It’s not my fault you’re terrible at ladders.”

The students present watched with wide eyes as their usually stern math teacher helped their beloved art teacher, even taking her playful teasing without so much as a sigh. “Is he… actually smiling?” one student whispered, amazed. “And helping her paint? They’re definitely dating.”

On Fridays, Y/N would stay late to finish up art projects, often leaving well after most of the other teachers had already gone home. But one evening, as she was cleaning up her brushes, she was startled by a familiar voice at the door.

“Didn’t I tell you not to stay this late alone?” Tsukishima’s tone was gentle, though there was a hint of concern.

“Oh, but I had just one more layer of glaze to apply! I didn’t want to leave it unfinished,” she replied, smiling sheepishly.

Tsukishima sighed and moved to take some of the supplies from her hands, setting them aside. “That can wait. You shouldn’t be here by yourself. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

They left together, but not before another student, leaving basketball practice, caught sight of them walking side by side down the hallway, Tsukishima’s hand brushing hers in a quiet, comforting gesture.

“Did you see that?” the student whispered to a friend the next day. “Mr. Tsukishima totally waited for Auntie after school. He’s such a softie for her.”

When Field Day rolled around, Y/N was the designated supervisor for the art activities station. Her students flocked to her booth, excited to paint, tie-dye, and get a break from competitive games. Tsukishima, though not usually one for field activities, had somehow found himself “volunteered” to help out at her station by none other than Y/N herself.

At first, he’d tried to stay in the background, sorting supplies and ensuring everything was organized. But as more students lined up, Y/N pulled him over to assist with face painting. “Come on, Kei, it’s fun! Don’t be so serious,” she teased, handing him a paintbrush.

He gave her a long-suffering look but, after a few convincing nudges, gave in. Soon, students were giggling at the sight of Mr. Tsukishima painting bright flowers and animals on their cheeks.

“Mr. Tsukishima, can you paint a dragon?” one student asked, grinning. And to everyone’s surprise, Tsukishima nodded, actually putting in the effort to paint a rather impressive dragon.

Meanwhile, Y/N leaned in close, watching him with a proud smile. “See? I knew you had a colorful side.”

The students at the booth exchanged knowing looks, watching the way Tsukishima’s gaze softened every time he looked at Y/N. One bold student whispered, “They’re definitely together. I think Auntie’s the only person who could get him to paint a dragon.”

The biggest reveal came on Y/N’s birthday. Her classroom was decorated with student-made banners, handmade cards, and small, thoughtful gifts from her students. But the real surprise came when Tsukishima walked in with a bouquet of wildflowers, which he set on her desk, much to the shock of her students.

“Kei…” Y/N murmured, her eyes shining with surprise. “You didn’t have to—”

“Happy Birthday, Auntie,” he said simply, giving her a small, genuine smile before glancing pointedly at the students, who were watching, open-mouthed. He gave them his usual glare but, seeing the excitement in their eyes, eventually gave up on hiding it.

And with that, the students finally had their confirmation. They all whispered to each other excitedly, some even daring to give Tsukishima approving thumbs-up. From that day on, Tsukishima’s “monster math teacher” title softened in their eyes. He was still strict and demanding, but he was also the teacher who went out of his way to make their “Auntie” happy.

As the weeks went by, more little moments started to unfold between them—moments the students watched eagerly, as if they were witnessing a real-life romance. And while Tsukishima might not have been the most affectionate in public, he showed his care in small, steady ways, making sure Y/N was looked after and supported in the little things.

[soldat-buck]

i had a vision while making coffee this morning

bg3 culinary headcanons: Companion Edition

- Shadowheart: absolute zero regard for contamination while cooking. kitchen habits of a permanent bachelor. licks the tasting spoon clean and keeps using it to cook. eats hot cocoa straight out of the container with a spoon. thinks pouring ranch over an entire head of lettuce and eating it like feral animal while holding it over the kitchen sink counts as "salad". if you can get past the contamination thing, the food she makes actually tastes pretty good, even if it's sometimes odd (she cooks like a stoner, despite being perfectly sober. she is just Like That).

- Astarion: perfectly capable of cooking, and actually can cook quite well. food may not taste the same after becoming a vampire, but his enhanced sense of smell tells him nearly everything he needs to know about how to season and cook food properly. he doesn't cook because he doesn't like to (washing dishes? by hand? no fucking thank you, being undead is harsh enough on the nails and skin. finding a good lotion for normal undead dryness is already impossible)

- Lae'zel: in the modern world, if her life took her in a chef direction, she'd be in a Michelin star restaurant as the world's best and most terrifying sous chef. she absolutely would throw a knife at you for fucking up her plating (she'd intentionally miss. the first time). no nonsense is ever tolerated in her kitchen, but that doesn't necessarily mean she's got temper issues (her coldness and lack of tantrums is what makes her terrifying). she'd put Gordon Ramsay in his place for his rage theatrics and then make him weep with joy after serving him the most competent omelet he's ever had in his life. if she likes you, you may address her as "Yes, Chef!" outside of the kitchen.

- Karlach: uses 4 pots to make ramen. not because she's doing anything fancy or elaborate with it, the first pot was too small and started boiling over (whoops). the second one was, oh hold on, that's a cast iron pan, maybe you're not supposed to use that for boiling liquids, huh? wait shit, can't use this one either, i'm not supposed to use metal spoons on nonstick, don't want to scratch it. There we go! this one is the right size! and if i scratch this one, it's fine! wait, where the fuck did the flavor packet go (you should definitely be concerned about leaving her alone for the weekend)

- Wyll: very resourceful cook due to his Blade of the Frontier days. can improvise a meal out of damn near anything. can identify every edible plant and mushroom and tell you how to use it in a dish. would carry an herb garden in his adventure pack if he could. would absolutely thrive on the show Chopped (he's actually banned from auditioning again because it's not fair to the other competitors to have him on). he could make you a dessert featuring rattlesnake and fresh picked clover, and you don't know how or why, but you actually like it

- Gale: approaches the kitchen the same way he approaches most things in his life - academically. knows the proper safe temperature to cook meats/etc to, knows how to brown an onion, knows what seasonings are typically used together for certain flavor profiles and how to match seasonings to proteins. knife work sucks because he uses mage hand for mise en place and his mage hand has shitty DEX, but he's scared of his chef knife from the one time he sliced his thumb open (he was cutting an onion with improper hand placement and the knife slipped)

- Minsc: would exclusively eat by dumpster diving if it weren't for Boo's disapproval. eats like a human garbage disposal. he will eat a n y t h i n g that fits in his mouth, he is the least picky eater you will ever meet. does not understand how food challenges in the show Fear Factor are supposed to be challenges

- Halsin: world class forager. very competent hunter. prefers to eat everything as raw as possible. understands but doesn't believe in strict food safety because obviously stomach acid kills germs (and anyway, a little dirt here and there never killed anyone; exposure to germs is good for your immune system). open-mouthed kissing him is gambling with your health. makes the best vegetarian salads but do not trust any chicken he has "cooked". people with weak CON might want to consider avoiding his food

- Jaheira: uses Talk to Animals to Cinderella/Ratatouille rodents in the kitchen. she commands them like she's in perilous battle and the entire world is at stake (also rodents are worse to direct than cats, they do not know the difference between left and right. there's a lot of "No! Not that cupboard, the other one! NO, the OTHER other one! Flank him, he's off balance!"). making a cup of tea is a convoluted, stressful process that takes 10 times longer than just boiling the damn water yourself

if you want more bg3 culinary headcanons, there's also: the Absolute Edition

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Nov 9th

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1. I'm looking for a fic that I swear I bookmarked！It's a modern AU where WWX has been dead for (13?) years in a world where people are starting to spontaneously resurrect from the dead (in a not zombie way). He finds his way back to LWJ and A-Yuan. I think near the end of the fic they get news that JYL has also been revived. @needleinthenonsense

FOUND!🔒💖 sudden nature series by everbrighter (M, 97k, wangxian, modern w/ magic, 5+1, family feels, parenthood, teenage rebellion, past character death, resurrection, pining, domestic fluff, angst, happy ending) 

NOT FOUND!🔒care by everbrighter (T, 35k, LSZ & WWX, wangxian, modern w/ magic, resurrection, family bonding, getting to know each other, past character death, pining)

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2. Hi!! This is my first time using Tumblr so I hope I’m doing this right… I read a fic (Ao3) where Lan Zhan was getting rid of a water spirit in the lake in Caiyi city (i think). Wei Yīng said something dirty and LWJ was going to retort when he was sucked underwater. He thought he was gonna die but soon got caught under like this wheel thingy where he was pulled up and his shoulder dislocated. He had wounds and was only saved thx to WWX using demonic cultivation. I have some screenshots if needed! @plumblossom-15339

FOUND? As Spring Will Surely Come by silver_sun (E, 38k, WangXian, Established Relationship, Lan Family Feels, Bottom LWJ, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt LWJ, depression - LXC, Near Drowning, Sick LWJ, sick LQR, LXC in Seclusion, WWX Has a New Golden Core, Bath Sex, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, everyone gets a happy/hopefully ending, Night Hunts, kind of slice of life vibes, Nightmares, Mental Health Issues, traumatic memory related flashback - LWJ, it's battle of nightless city related - warning will be on specific chapter)

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3. Hello, lovely people! I'm desperately looking for a fic I read in February, where lwj gets himself stuck as a bunny and iirc wwx is hired by lxc to bunnysit and because wwx had nowhere to live he was happy to accept. It might have been modern with cultivation. All I have is this quote I sent my friend: "And then Wei Ying had accepted! Lan Zhan was so overwhelmed that, just for a moment, his rabbit body took over, and he’d ended up doing a binky." Pls help!

NOT FOUND!🔒💖 blue-ribbon bunny by cicer (G, 15k, wangxian, modern, shapeshifting, supernatural elements, fluff & humor)

FOUND! the soft animal of your body by sysrae (T, 15k, WangXian, modern cultivation, Golden Core Reveal, Hurt/Comfort, Whump, Animal Transformation, Shapeshifting, Getting Together, Confessions)

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4. I'm looking for a fic where the lan and possibly the nie fought a war with the Jiang and jin and WY was one of the Jiang commanders. The Jiang lose and WY and LZ enter into a relationship. I remember a scene where the Jiang were on trial after the war and WY noted that JC looked shocked that he's being prosecuted possibly for war crimes @maryam25

FOUND? 🔒 Crossing Paths by Ilona22 (M, 21k, wangxian, shapeshifter au, graphic depictions of violence, war between sects, war crimes, not JC friendly, happy ending)

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5. Hello, thank you for your hard work 🙏 I'm looking for a fic where Wen Qing poisons Wen Ruohan, Wen Chao, Wen Zhuliu and Wang Lingjiao with berries that induce Qi deviation. Basically everyone but Wen Xu, who is in love with his brother's wife, because WRH punished him by having her marry WC. And I think instead of assuming leadership of the Wen sect he leaves with her. That's all I can remember. Thank you so much!

Hello, thank you for your hard work! For Nov 9th no. 5 was mine, sadly it's not the fic I was looking for. It might have been time travel? I'm not sure. Definitely no transmigration though. Thank you anyway for looking.

NOT FOUND! The Teenage Girl's Self-Saving System by mercyandmagic (T, 108k, WLJ/WC, WLJ/NMJ, wangxian, XiYao, XuanLi, ChengQing, OC main character, transmigration, everyone’s least fave characer gets character development!)

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6. hello! thankyou so much for you hard work. please help me find a fic that i've been looking for days now, in this fic wwx and lwj time went back to time as kids, as far as i remember they had their memories with them and both of their parents are alive in here. kid wwx told his parents to go to gusu, and when they went, he was greeted by kid lwj who remembered him and hugged him (lwj's family was shocked because their non affectionate boy was hugging someone) pls pls help me find it

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7. Hello! I was hoping you could help me find a fic, I don’t remember much of it. But i remember it took place during wei yings time in gusu in the cloud recess arc. i could be wrong on some details but from my memory it has the lans finding out about some negative aspect of wei yings life in yunmeng and the abusive treatment he dealt with. he is then welcome in cloud recesss bc they see how smart and kind he is. i remember specifically there was an oc that was a lan elder who was very un-lan like. he was very loud very much what u would expect from a character that’s similar to wei ying. he became wei yings shifu so to speak. they would invent things together. they were both known for blowing up things a lot. the lan healers mentioned once how the jiang healers definitely knew about the abuse wei ying was subjected to. and that they would be bringing up them not living up to their duties as healers at a conference or something. and that not helping wei ying in the abusive situation was a major taboo amongst all the healers and there would be repercussions for that. i think they mention that wei ying is often in the back of cloud recess where all the elders lives. like he’s just always around that general area. it’s kind of jiang bashing and then also positive/protective lans. that’s all i can remember so sorry if that’s vague i just really enjoyed reading it and can’t find it for the life of me. thanks for any help u can give me!! and as always thanks so much for all ur hard work 💕💕💕

FOUND?🔒in the shadow of moonlit flowers by Reverie (cl410) (T, 56k, wangxian, LXC/NMJ, Cloud Recesses, LWJ & NHS Friendship, Developing Relationship, POV LWJ, Minor Injuries, Autistic LWJ, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, aka the Madam Yu warning, Genius WWX, Light Angst And Hurt/Comfort, WWX Protection Squad, Gusu Lan Sect, Slow Burn, Protective LWJ, LWJ-centric) the eccentric lan elder that teaches wwx shows up in ch 11

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8. Hello! I'm looking for a fic in which wwx is summoned back by xue yang instead of mo xuanyu and wwx runs around pretending to be xue yang but he actually managed to change xue yang body into his own and just wear a fake face. I think Jiang yanli was summoned back too by Qin su and was the one to make xue yang summon wwx into his body

FOUND? the problem with authority by isabilightwood (M, 139k, wangxian, qingli, Canon Divergence, Sacrifice Summon, slightly dark!JYL, wq lives because i said so, Angst with a Happy Ending, Chronic Pain, Mild Sexual Content, Top/Bottom Versatile | Switch WangXian, manipulative relationship (background xiyao))

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9. Hey!! It's been a while. I hope all of you are doing great.

I'm looking for this fic where Wei Wuxian is in an arranged marriage with Lan Wangji and the only significant thing I remember about it is that Wei Wuxian breaks something that belonged to Lan Wangji's mother and he gets angry I think (?) Also, Wei Wuxian goes to Caiyi Town and comes back to apologize.

I'm so sorry. I know this isn't enough to go by, but this is all I recall. If you can find it, that would be great.

Thank you in advance. @poetic-writes

Hi! I'm number 9 on the latest fic finder. That fic rec is not the one I was looking for, but that fic is really good, and I'm thankful for whoever who assumed it was that particular one. As I mentioned in my ask is that Wei Wuxian breaks something that belongs to Lan Wangji and the latter is really sad and says something rude to Wei Wuxian I think on the lines of him being as bad as everyone had said and it kind of takes away the spirit entirely from Wei Wuxian and the light in his eyes dim. Thank you again.

NOT FOUND!🔒 Light of Stars (and the Destroyer) by Sanguis (T, 22k, WangXian, Legends, Arranged Marriage, Pining, Pining for your spouse, Adoption, Canon Divergence, Married Couple)

I've read number nine before but I don't remember the name! i have more details tho: lan wangji says that wei ying is as bad as jiang cheng says! wei ying locks himself in a room and cries a lot

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10. oh lovely folk- please can you help me? for the next fic finder- i’m remembering a WY sent to marry royal(i believe) LW. Madame Yu whips him before he travels to capitol. Meng Yao has suspicions and leaves him locked in a room not knowing WY is injured. does this ring a bell?

NOT FOUND The Bloodthirsty Prince and his Bride by moss_enthusiast (M, 27k, WangXian, Angst with a Happy Ending Violence, Anxiety, Royalty, Strangers to Lovers, Arranged Marriage, Self-Worth Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Whipping, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Abuse, Child Abuse, Physical Abuse, Blood and Violence, Dark LWJ, Fluff, Angst and Feels, Hurt/Comfort, Shock, Anxiety Attacks) i am really unsure cause there is no Meng Yao as far as i remember, but this contains arranged marriage (where WY is sent instead of JYL ro marry prince LWJ) and highly abusive Madam Yu who whips WY a lot, and LWJ finds him hurt and passed out in the wedding bedroom after the ceremony. Recovery abd revenge included later.

FOUND!🔒The Imperial Compromise by shiroakuma (E, 61k, WIP, WangXian, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Royalty, YLLZ WWX, Concubine WWX, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Emperor LXC, everyone but LXC thinks WWX is to be his concubine, LXC Ships WangXian, Mutual Pining, Light Angst, Happy Ending, Bonding, Claiming Bites, Intersex Omegas, Intersex Alphas, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, Injury Recovery, Hurt/Comfort)

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11. I am back once again asking for your excellent help in finding a fic. It's an AU, where a previous emperor ordered Lan Zhan & Wei Ying to marry. Lan Zhan is an imperial official (in the tax department i think). There is a war with the Wen going on and Wei Ying is ordered off to fight. Everyone thinks WY is either dead or MIA, but when the war is won, LZ goes to oversees a prisoner exchange and finds WY who has been on a work gang in a mine all this time (with A-Yuan who he's adopted & Mo Xuanyu). I remember MianMian is the brilliant general on the winning side. You find out that LZ & WY basically fell in love right before WY got shipped off to war, so it's a happy reunion. Oh! Also, LZ writes very popular poetry under a pseudonym! Um...i remember that LZ bought WY a goat they called Amethyst because before he was disappeared WY wrote LZ expressing the wish for such a goat (LZ buys the whole herd in the end). Jiang Yanli and the Peacock are married and are the new empress and emperor. There's an epilogue or end note where the author gives info about how their life turned out - this is all in the 500s CE. As always, i can't remember the title or who the writer is, so HELP! Thank you so much!

FOUND! ❤️ Where the nightingales are singing, and a white moon beams. by Moominmammashandbag (M, 52k, wangixan, jin zixuan & lan wangji, no powers au, grief/mourning, aftermath of war, angst w/ happy ending, reunions, fluff & smut)

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12. I don't know if you still help finding fics about wanxian... but just in case, I would like to ask your help... I'm looking for a fic where wei wuxian and lan wangji are divorced, I think? and that lan wangji is a doctor and wei wuxian is like a secret agent or undercover agent with wein qing and wen ning. But then wei wuxian got shot at one of his undercover missions and as he was delirius and thought he was going to die anyway, he went to his ex husband's house and lan wangji, being a doctor fixes or provided first aid to wei wuxian. Turned out that lan wangji is still in love with him and they talk... it was not finished when I read it. But it was a good story full of angst... I hope you would bw able to help me find it.thank you in advance @etutb

FOUND? empty space beside me by scarletmoontears. I have a link but it doesn't work so I'm guessing the work was removed or locked. (I think it's removed, I logged in and clicked the link but still got the error message - Mod C)

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13. Hello! I've been pulling my hair out trying to find a wangxian fic. Unfortunately, I can't remember too much about it, but I believe it's a modern/university setting. The only scene I can remember is WWX going with LWJ to visit his uncle and brother. They live rather far and on a hill. LWJ doesn't visit often, and this visit is very tense between WWX and LQR. Something about past WWX doing to LWJ, or causing LWJ to get into trouble when they were younger. Anyway, LWJ then gets angry with his uncle about the treatment directed towards WWX. I also can't remember if baby a-yuan is in this fic and present during the visit, as sometimes fics blend together. I apologize if this isn't enough to go by, but I just randomly recalled this fic, and apparently, I did not bookmark it.

FOUND? ❤️ save a sword, ride a socialist by sysrae (E, 33k, wangxian, modern w magic, college/university au, fake/pretend relationship, single parent WWX, homophobia, light angst w/ happy ending, idiots to lovers, fluff)

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14. Hi. Im looking for a wangxian fic, where Wuxian had openly confessed to Wangji persistently until he dies in the seige. And then when he comes back in Mo Xuanyu's body, its wangji whose doing the confessing. Wuxian is sad sometimes, I think. @thatpantasticbitch

FOUND? When the Words Stop Coming by mrcformoso (T, 7k, WangXian, Canon Compliant, POV WWX, POV LWJ, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Pre-Sunshot Campaign, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Canonical Character Death, Love Confessions, Rejection, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, WWX confesses early on, But canon still happens, LWJ starts confessing after, but the tables have turned, Angst with a Happy Ending, LWJ rejects WWX, Then gets rejected by WWX after, "Get Lost", Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

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15. For fic finder, there was one specific fic - it may have been part of a series? - and I believe it was likely on the longer end, and may have involved time travel? The part I’m looking for is that in either WQ or WY’s POV, it explicitly acknowledges that wq and wy coparented LSZ while in the BM. If it helps, I solely read canon dynamics! @lovelyiknow

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16. hello for fic finder im looking for a fic where jyl married wq's mom i think? it's also time travel iirc. ive tried finding it in my history but alas. id really appreciate the help, thank you!

FOUND! 死而无悔 (To Die Without Regret) series by liverbiver9 (T, 26k, JYL & WWX, JYL/OC, WN & WWX & WQ, WangXian, JYL & WN, Time Travel Fix-It, Canon Divergence, JYL-centric, POV JYL, Genderqueer WWX, Trans Male Character, Kid Fic, Child WWX, Fluff and Angst, Family Feels, Found Family, WWX is a Wen technically, Demonic Cultivation, Falling In Love, Assassination Attempt(s), WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, teen wangxian feature in the epilogue!, No Sunshot Campaign, No Golden Core Transfer, Everybody Lives, except for WRH and his children, mentioned minor character death, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Trans WWX, Canonical Character Death, Time Travel Not A Fix-It, I make it kind of worse but kind of better?, YLLZ JYL, Demonic Cultivator JYL, Sect Leader JYL, Short & Sweet, Angst implied happy ending, Ambiguous/Open Ending)

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17. Hi! I'm looking for a fic where wangxian is in a zombie or apocalyptic setting. Wwx gets bitted and lwj is desperate to find a cure of some kind in a hospital but in the lwj has to kill wwx of smth like that. Thanksss!

FOUND? 🔒 when the sun goes out by travelingneuritis (E, 176k, WangXian, Modern Cultivation, tech cultivation, Necromancy, Angst with a Happy Ending, insecurity around adoption, Dad!WWX, dad!lwj, Grief/Mourning, Mistaken Identity, Mood Whiplash, Body Swap, sex tears!, Falling In Love, Consensual Somnophilia, apocalypse (localized), Smut, unrealistic sexual stamina, Flashbacks, Time Skips, Illustrations)

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18. Hi, I forgot to bookmark this one but I remember that Wei wuxian lived but his soul was shattered like he was a lived but he wasn't acting like himself before and eventually he starts committing suicide and lan wangji was protecting him and caring for him until he successfully kill himself, lan wangji takes care of him for 13 years(it's and happy ending) @lanwuxian0725

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19. hi i was hoping u could find a fix for me i’m p sure it was like a dark!lz fic. i think he may have traveled back in time to protect wwx and stop his death. when he travels back he is in his own body as a child. and lan qiren is like freaked out by him bc lwj remembers how badly lan qiren treated wwx in the past so he’s like not rly trying to hard to seem normal or that he likes his family. but i think they take in wwx before jfm can and lan qiren in this environment rly likes wwx treats him rly well but bc lz freaks him out and is weirdly possessive of wwx lan qiren is like constantly scared for wwx and is like always keeping an eye on them. like kind of the opposite of canon he looks at lan zhen like he’s corrupting his favorite student (wwx). the whole fic lan zhan is like obsessed with wei ying in a way that is like scary to everyone else (except wwx). i don’t rly remember more then that. hopefully someone can help me out i keep thinking about this and can’t find it. i rly need to learn to bookmark things. pretty sure it was from lan zhans perspective but i could be wrong. thank u sm hope everyone’s having a good day today!! 💕

NOT FOUND A Matter of Time series by mrcformoso (E, 84k, wangxian, time travel fix-it, graphic depictions of violence, underage, LWJ pov, JC pov, dark LWJ, manipulation, grooming, teen body adult mind for LWJ, happy ending for wangxian, problematic consensual underage sex, blood & violence, insane LWJ, manic LWJ)

FOUND! 🔒Something is wrong with A-Zhan! by HeloSoph (M, 15k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Sort Of, Dark LWJ, Morally Gray WWX, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, WWX Isn't Adopted by the Jiangs, WWX is a Lan, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, JC Bashing, Smitten LWJ, Possessive LWJ, Engaged WangXian, Blood and Violence, a lot of people die, LQR Metaphorically Qi-Deviates, because of, Shameless LWJ, LQR Tries, to fit into the following tag, Good Uncle LQR, Semi-Public Sex, or at least wangxian's version of it, Scheming NHS, POV NHS)

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20. hi i’m trying to find a fic i read once where wwx stays in all the different sects for like a season or something on behalf of his sect to prove he isn’t like a danger to the cultivation world. it may have been multiple chapters but he goes to all of them and helps in various ways. i believe it was after the war in his first life. back when everyone was scared of him. sorry if that’s not enough info i can’t remember anything else tbh thanks for ur help 🥺

FOUND? Field Trips with Wei Wuxian by antebunny (G, 42k, WangXian, WQ & WWX, NMJ & WWX, JZX & WWX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Found Family, Angst with a Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, protective Jiang siblings, Unreliable Narrator, due to WWX assuming ppl hate him, JYL is gonna dropkick her baby bro into having friends)

FOUND? The "Patriarch" Was Supposed to be Ironic (or, Wei Wuxian, Chief Cultivator) by groignequi (E, 51k, WangXian, JC & WWX & JYL, JC/NHS/WQ, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, jiang friendly, Not Everyone Dies, Really Most People Live (Except JGS), Chief Cultivator WWX, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Anal Sex, Consensual Non-Consent, sort of (at a canon-typical wangxian level), Dom/sub Undertones, Protective Siblings, Nonbinary NHS, POV Multiple)

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[littlescaryinternetguy]

I had seen stills of this but never knew where it's from and Crispy Jesus McChrist.

I'm a day late for day 7 of this list of 30 days of gt self care here have my absolute favourite g/t music video. It's just the softest, fluffiest loveliest snippet of the life we all wish we had 🥺

[leothil]

fic recs: archive edition 28

With season seven now behind us and a long summer of hiatus ahead, I peered into my bookmarks from December 2021 and decided that the only logical thing was to assemble a list of Christmas-y fics! Maybe the most wonderful time of the year will make the wait a bit easier.

Previous rec posts can be found here!

i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars (@doeeyeseddie) Eddie agrees to accompany Buck to his old roommate's wedding (Connor! Making a comeback in this fic a year before he turned up in canon again!), but due to a misunderstanding everyone thinks they're married. Surely playing husbands for a weekend won't awaken anything in them! 19k words, rated T

this christmas (i'm gonna risk it all) by @bievanbuckleys The 118 rent a large cabin together for the holidays. Buck has long ago decided to keep his feelings to himself, but in such close proximity it might be hard to keep it all in. Oh, and one small problem - the room he's sharing with Eddie has only one bed. 27.8k words, rated M

this love we got (is the best of all) by @thatbuddie Buck and Eddie are hosting the 118 for Christmas Eve dinner the first Christmas after they got married, and Buck stresses about wanting it to be perfect. A sweet slice-of-life established relationship piece! 2.7k words, rated G

(as long as you love me so) let it snow by lecornergirl (@clusterbuck) Ok I'm cheating a bit, this isn't technically about Christmas. But they do get stuck in a snowstorm and the vibes are soft and fluffy, even when it starts with a funeral. 2.1k words, rated T

Merry Christmas uh, happy Pride and enjoy the start of summer! And please leave the authors kudos and comments, it's the only way they know someone has read and enjoyed their work!