#good to be back........ but at what cost?

[salemlunaa]

☀︎ YOU’RE NOT BEING PRODUCTIVE, YOU’RE LAZY AND AFRAID ☀︎

And this will cost you a lot of time that could be spent with your desires…

You have all the information, why aren’t you applying. You tell me you have been in this community for 6 months, a year, 2 years+, but how many of those days you’ve spent in this community have you actually applied, how many of those nights did you actually apply and don’t just fall asleep after 5 seconds.

And i know why you’re lazy, it’s because you’re scared, you’re scared of inducing process, whether it be success or failure. You make yourself busy with scripts and subliminals, “i’ll script this really cool thing first”, “i’ll scroll a little on tumblr first” “lemme just look at the success story hashtag before i do it, it really motivates me” You try and distract your self, you delude yourself into thinking you’re being productive but really you don’t want to, if you wanted to you wouldn’t be here and I will ALWAYS stand by that. You put it off until the last minute and then when it “doesn’t work” you run back to tumblr acting like you actually did anything.

a really good analogy from @archsariel333 - “you buy the pens, the notebook, you plan for the book you’re going to write but, you never write it”

“let me just add this one thing to the plan”, “let me look at inspo for book covers and art styles for illustration”, “let me go to my book writers group on tumblr and see if they have anymore advice for me even tho i know how to write a fucking book”

I know it’s comforting and validating to be in the “waiting period”, the period of anticipation. You want to go shopping for a vacation, pack your suitcase, look at reviews on social media, plan the pics you’re going to take, but getting on the actual plane can be scary, you ask yourself “what if they deny my boarding pass”, “what if i fail to make it on time”, “what if im not eligible to fly for whatever reason”, you don’t want to leave your comforting circumstances and even the trip itself scares you just a little, so you cope by buying all the vacation outfits in the world, saving inspo pics into a pinterest board, looking at vlogs of other people going to that place. You can’t bring yourself to get on the fucking plane.

You need to apply, and properly, 2024 is almost over, the amount of weeks we have left isn’t even in the double digits anymore, I don’t want you to make it to the end of this DECADE still keeping the tumblr “foryou” page company, watching people coming and going feeling paralysed as people who came here later than you pass you by. I know the feeling sucks but whose fault is that?

I want you to scrap the amount you’ve been here. Since you’re the operant power right? I don’t care how many weeks, months, years you’ve been here, scrap it, you’re going to start afresh and you’re going to actually apply, when you have the time, you’re not going to go back to your notes app, notion or pinterest to script some more, you’re going to apply.

A lot of you have the knowledge that majority of the world doesn’t and time on your hands, do you know how powerful and extremely fortunate you are, to have time AND knowledge? i don’t think alot of you understand how much of a privilege that is you are unstoppable yet you stop yourself out of fear that you will “fail” to tap into the void and let yourself down. You are so privileged to know what you know and to have the time to apply it, so do it, your not gonna scroll on tiktok for a few more minutes or shove a million subliminals down your throat to “prep yourself” you’re just going to take a breath and do it. Induce pure consciousness, and if you fall asleep scrap that assumption and do it again.

Look at your life right now, do you honestly like it, do you like envying others for having what you can have at the snap of your fingers. Do you like the life you are living?

I want you to tell yourself that you will not be the reason for your own demise. you will NOT be the reason that it’s 2026,27,28 and so on and you don’t have what you want.

please just go and apply, i don’t even know you guys and it hurts watching you kill time when you could’ve had everything a day ago, an hour ago heck even 5 minutes ago.

apply apply apply, don’t let this feeling be the reason you “fail” 💋🍑

[iamnotoriginalphil]

To Be Taught a Lesson (Professor!Agatha Harkness x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Agatha has some anger to work out. Lucky for her, you happen to be right within touching distance.

Words: 6.9k

Warnings: Student/teacher relationship, power imbalance, toxic relationship, age gap (all 18+), corruption kink if you squint, bondage, swearing, degradation, marking, vibrator, begging, jealousy, possessiveness, overstimulation, dom!Agatha, sub!R

Tags: @sasheemo @buttercandy16 @chlondykebar @toomanylesbiancouples @midnight-lestrange @babybeeelle

You were curled up on the swing on Agatha’s back porch. Large swathes of skin were on show, your legs bare despite the chill in the air. Her sweater, the cashmere one that had cost an arm and a leg, looked good on you. With your head bent over the book in your lap, hair falling forward from where it had come free from the bun you’d thrown it into that morning, sunlight hitting your body, you glowed.

She looked away from you, back to the garden. The gardener had returned, planting something for the first blush of spring. You hadn’t even seemed to notice his arrival, buried in a book you’d been pouring over for days now. She knew that book. It was achingly familiar, the leather cover and embossed letters like a dream from another lifetime.

You tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. Her eyes followed it, lingering long after your fingers had fallen back into your lap. Your teeth were worrying at your lower lip, a move that had grown familiar over the months of watching you. Every time you read, lost in thought, working on something, those teeth would sink in and she would feel her entire body come alive. Knowing what it felt when it was her teeth had only made the entire experience worse.

She wasn’t sure you knew exactly how tempting you were. You’d wandered into that library, in that insufferable bore’s home, and she’d known she had to have you. All wide eyed innocence and desperation, you’d been delicious from the moment she’d laid eyes on you.

And then you’d proven yourself to be exceptional.

Now, knowing you, knowing your body and your soul, there was nothing she wouldn’t do to keep you. Some nights she’d watch you sleep, worn out from her ministrations, and feel her heart squeeze. It wasn’t fair, how you impacted her, the effect you had on her, and you had no idea. None. That with a single word you could bring her to her knees.

You glanced up, lips parted on a soft sigh, eyes alighting on her. Your smile was immediate, your entire being brightening, melting back into the cushions on the swing. Your foot was on the wooden slats of the porch, gentle rocking yourself, bare leg making her mouth water.

“Anything else you need, Miss Harkness?”

She snarled, turning towards the gardener lingering was at the bottom of the stairs. His eyes widened, taking a step back from her.

“No,” she replied, the eye roll obvious in her voice, “get out.”

She watched him scurry away, a sick sense of pleasure coursing through her body. She shook her hair back from her face, her finger brushing back those strands caught in the wind. When she turned back to you, it was to find sparkling eyes and a hidden smile turned in her direction. The warmth that melted through her veins left her feeling unsettled.

“Do you aim to scare everyone you cross paths with?” you asked, slowing your rocking.

“Do I scare you, pet?” she asked in return.

You shook your head, lip caught between your teeth, keeping your pretty smile from blooming over your face. You made such a nice picture, in her clothes, bruises on your skin left from her lips and her fingers, looking at her like she was the only thing you could see. She wanted to devour you, to chain you up and keep you from ever leaving, to hold you so close and so gentle that nothing ever happened to you.

She sauntered towards you, hands in pockets, staring down at you. You watched her, mouth falling open, eyes sweeping over her body. She revelled when you looked at her like that, like she was every dream you’d ever had, like you were an innocent hoping to be corrupted.

She knew you were anything but innocent.

“I could, if you liked,” she said, stopping in front of you, “would you like to be scared?”

“I’d rather get my heart rate up over something else,” you said in that way that sounded so sweet but let her now what a naughty pet you could be.

Your hand reached for her, clutching at her shirt, tugging on her until she was close enough to curl her hands around you, to seek out your bare skin, to make you shiver. She skimmed her fingertips along your leg, pausing at the hem of the sweater you were in.

“I believe this is mine,” she said, pinching it.

“You can have it back if you want,” you said, stretching your leg out in a move that had her wanting to sink her teeth into your skin, “but you’ll have to take it off me yourself.”

You had grown so much since that girl she’d first met, careful to always say the right thing, stealing glances, wanting something you thought you couldn’t have. She chuckled, running her fingertips back down your leg, luxuriating in the warm skin under her touch.

“I wouldn’t bother,” she said.

You pouted and she knew you were doing your best to tempt her.

“It looks so pretty on you. Why deny myself the pleasure of seeing you in it?” she murmured.

Your eyes brightened, your smile turning pleased. She loved when she could please you. Your gaze turned down, head dipping, hair falling into your face, hiding you from her.

“None of that, kitten,” she said, her fingers raising your chin again.

Your fingers were still clutching her shirt. When you tightened them, pulling her closer, she let you without argument, wanting it as much as you seemed to.

“Sit with me?” you asked, and she couldn’t say no to you.

Your legs shifted as she sat beside you, feet pressing into her thigh. It was like you were unable to stay away from her, to keep yourself from touching her in some way. It had been so long since someone had been so intent on her. You’d made your promises of forever, but your actions were what made her believe there was a chance they would be true. You always reached for her, the moment she was in the same room. Your eyes always turned to her. Your entire focus caught on her. It was nice to know she was the only thing you could see.

“What are you reading, kitten?” she asked, even though she knew the answer.

“A manual on how to be a witch,” you replied, smile turning impish.

She could imagine you as a witch. Dancing under the moonlight with a group of women, power coursing through your veins, brewing up potions. You’d take to it like a duck to water, your natural habitat. You’d be formidable with magic running in your veins.

“The one I sent you for?” she asked, delicate as she could be.

“Rio returned it,” you said, eyes darting up to her then back down to the book in your lap.

“How kind of her.” She wasn’t trying to hide her sarcasm.

“Are you mad?” you asked.

“Not at you, kitten.”

She curled her fingers around your ankle, tugging until your foot was in her lap. With a featherlight touch, she ran her index finger along the arch of your foot. You squirmed, trying to pull out of her hold. She did it again, tightening her hold, refusing to let you go.

“Agatha,” you whined and she so loved that sound. Her name on your lips was a delight she wasn’t sure she would ever grow tired of.

“Yes, pet?” she asked, still stroking your skin.

“Tickles,” you complained.

She continued for another few moments, enjoying the way you wiggled, the noises of complaint you made, but the way you stopped trying to pull away. She wasn’t lying when she’d told you she had complete control over your body. And the best part was the way you submitted to her so easily. She loved how easily she could take control, and how easily you let it go.

She placed your foot down again, stopping the torture. Holding it in her lap, she began the rocking of the swing again. Your toes flexed against her thigh. When she looked back to you, you were watching her with such a heartbreakingly fond expression on her face. It made her want to bury herself in you.

“So have you learnt how to be a witch?” she asked rather than letting herself examine that too closely.

“Maybe,” you said, “can I try reading your palm?”

“Are you hoping to read my fortunes?” she asked, but she was already presenting her hand to you, turning her body so she was sitting crossed legged across from you. You moved your body to mirror her.

“Perhaps I just want to know if fate knows what I know,” you said, taking it in both of yours.

“And what do you know?” she asked.

You flashed her a smile.

“That our lives will be entwined forever.”

You bent your head over her palm, fingertips tracing over whatever you saw there. She let herself study you as you did, the way she had lost hours to in her office, in her bed, on her couch. Every time she found something new in your features, something new to enjoy, something new that delighted her. Your face was more familiar to her than her own, and yet she couldn’t look away.

“So there’s your life line,” you said, finger brushing her skin like she was something precious, “it’s nice and long so you’ll probably live forever.”

You glanced up at her, grinning. Her own smile was an automatic response. Your fingertips were still brushing over her palm, making her head spin.

“It says you’re vibrant and full of life. No breaks in it either so you should have good health. No need for that nurses outfit I bought then.”

Her fingers closed around yours, holding them still.

“And when did you have time to go buy a nurse outfit?” she asked.

“A few years ago for halloween,” you replied, “I got a lot of free drinks in it.”

She gritted her teeth, knowing it was irrational to be mad about any liaisons you’d had before meeting her but just the thought of anyone looking at you with lust had her blood boiling. You were hers, and if she had her way, everyone would know that. She’d have her name branded over your skin and ensure anyone who looked at you felt the fear they should. No one crossed her and no one coveted what was hers.

Not when it came to you.

“And you wanted to wear it for me?” she asked through her gritted teeth.

“I thought you might like it,” you said, looking at her through your eyelashes.

Oh, you could ruin her with just that look.

“Of course, maybe you’d prefer me in something else,” you said, “I could dress up as a witch for you if you’d like.”

“You think I’d like you to dress up for me?” she asked.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t like to see me in my sexy little outfits?”

You were playing with fire. You had to know that. And yet you kept smiling at her like you were some kind of fucking angel.

“Go back to your palm reading,” she said, rather than giving you an answer.

You lingered, eyes sparkling at her, before looking down at her palm once again. She released your wandering fingers. You began tracing her skin again.

“The head line. A nice long clear line. You’re clever, but then, everyone knows that. A brilliant mind for a brilliant woman.” Your voice was so soft, “but this curve means you’re creative.”

Your lips ticked up and she was desperate to know what you were thinking. She could have asked but the answer might shatter her.

“And there’s your fate line. It starts where your life line does, speaking to your ambition and self-confidence. It’s not very clear though, so you might not have good luck. I think.”

Your self deprecating chuckle was familiar to her in a way that made her heart skip a beat. She knew you so well.

“Your marriage line is short so you might never get married and if you do it’ll be later in life.”

She felt her breath catch.

“And then there’s your love line.” You glanced up at her again before returning back to her hand, “interesting. Very interesting.”

“What is?” she asked, surprised how much she wanted to hear your answer.

“This says you’re going to have a happy long love.” Your fingers were still stroking over her skin, “and that you’re an exceptional lover.”

“It does not,” she said but she was smiling.

“It does. Right here.”

You tilted her palm towards her, your finger running along one of the line on her palm. She looked at it, more focused on the look of your skin against hers. You stroked her palm again and tilted it back towards yourself, holding it in your lap like it was something to be treasured.

“And then hand shape matters too,” you said.

You had begun to draw patterns on her palm, and she could see the cogs working in your brain. The book was still in your lap, just underneath her hand, the image of a palm facing up towards you. She wished she had a window into your brain, that she could rifle through your thoughts the way she could through that book.

“Agatha,” you said, voice quiet and she knew you weren’t about to tell her about her hand shape.

“Yes, pet?” she asked, bracing for whatever was about to come out of your mouth.

“Who’s Wanda?”

She hadn’t braced well enough.

It was like being kicked in the gut, her breath rushing out of her. Her ribs ached and heart was squeezing hard. It was as if her vision was tunnelling, focused on that one point of contact between you, her hand and yours and that damned book. She should have never sent you to go get it.

“Where did you get that name?” she asked, her voice not sounding her own.

You flinched back, hands dropping hers and you looked up at her. Your wide eyed innocence wasn’t what she wanted to see.

“Rio. She said… she said I should know what happened,” you said.

“She had no right,” she snarled.

Her anger propelled her out of the swing, leaving you behind as she tried to get a handle on the emotions coursing through her body. You stayed behind, giving her space, not drawing closer the way you often did.

“Is she why you hate Rio?” you asked.

“No,” she said, “that’s a different issue entirely.”

The swing creaked. She couldn’t look at you, not when there was still so much anger in her. If she did she might break you, irreversibly, and just the thought of destroying you had her seizing with panic. So it was better she continued looking out over her garden rather than face you.

“Why can’t you tell me?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, not liking how lost you sounded. There was so much you didn’t understand, so much she hadn’t told you. It wasn’t lying. It wasn’t. She’d been waiting.

She’d had to be sure you wouldn’t be like Wanda.

“Is it really that bad?” you asked.

“Does it matter?”

She turned to you. You’d pulled your knees up, curling your arms around your legs, chin resting on top. Watching her with those big sad eyes that she was certain could get her to do anything, you were so solemn. Her fingers clenched at her side, fighting against the impulse to reach out.

“She was your student, right?” you asked, “I know there were others, that I’m not the first.”

“Rio shouldn’t have told you that,” she said.

“I’m glad she did. I want to know,” you said.

She turned her face away from you, leaning back against the railing.

“And it doesn’t matter. Because I know I’ll be the last one.”

Her head snapped towards you. You were still watching her, so serious, and so perfect. She had no idea how something so lovely had landed in her lap.

“What does that mean?” she asked.

“Just that I plan on never letting you go. No one will come after me. This is it. And if you’re not okay with that I don’t really give a fuck. I’ll convince you if you’re not but there will never be anyone else for me but you,” you said, so fierce. Fire ran through your veins and it left her breathless.

She should have never doubted you.

“Wanda was my student ten years ago. The last student I mentored. I fell in love and she didn’t. When she graduated, and she graduated top of her class under my guidance, she took something from me. The book I’d been working on. She took it and when I confronted her about it she threatened to go to the administration about our relationship,” she said, the secrets finally spilling forth, “last I heard she was married with twin boys. Rio made sure to keep me abreast of her situation.”

“Agatha,” you sighed.

She hated the pity in your voice. Shaking her head, she turned back to the garden.

“She took everything from me. She’s the reason my career has stagnated for so long. I can’t move forward with my research without her destroying me and it feels unfinished so I can’t move on to something new,” she said.

The swing creaked again. She couldn’t bear to look at you, to see the pity she knew would be swimming in your eyes. There was a reason she hadn’t told you. Any weakness couldn’t be shown. She was strong and capable and there were no chinks in her armour. No chance of hurting her.

Arms curled around her body, tugging her towards a warm body. Your chin hooked over her shoulder, tightening your arms around her.

“You didn’t deserve that,” you said, voice soft, but there was steel there.

“No, I didn’t,” she replied.

“I’ll curse her for you,” you offered, “make it so she can’t even say your name.”

“Don’t tempt me, kitten.”

You nuzzled against her neck, lips brushing over her skin. She lent back, letting you hold her up. Pressing a kiss to her skin, you hummed. She let out a long breath, fingers twining through yours.

“Whatever you want, I’ll do it,” you murmured into her neck.

You’d been nothing but good to her. So sweet and so pliable and so accommodating. You were a literal dream for her.

So why was her stomach still roiling?

“Rio had no right to bring this up with you,” she said after a moment of silence.

“She’s had no right to do any of it,” you said.

She spun in your arms, slow as she thought over what she wanted. Mostly, she needed an outlet for her anger and there were no little students around to bear the brunt of it. No, all she had was you.

“You should have walked away when she tried to talk to you,” she said.

“Agatha, she had me pinned to a tree,” you said, fingers gently brushing her hair away from her face.

That was a bit of information you’d failed to mention when reporting back to her.

“She did?” Her fingers caught your chin, forcing you to look at her, “was she flirting with you?”

“Maybe.”

Her hold on you tightened. You shifted your weight from foot to foot but you didn’t try to pull away from her. Your lips parted and you were a picture of temptation.

“You don’t know? Or you don’t want to tell me the truth?” she asked, voice lowering.

You were close enough she could feel you shiver.

“I don’t think she was serious about it,” you said.

“You don’t know her like I do,” she said, “such a pretty little thing like you? She could never resist.”

“I’m not that irresistible,” you laughed.

You had no idea.

“Oh my sweet kitten.” Her nails dug in to your skin, “such a good girl. So innocent. You’re a siren call to her. You are everything that tempts her.”

“I’m not that innocent,” you pouted.

“You’re right. She doesn’t know what a naughty pet you can be.”

She spun the two of you, pressing your back into the railing. You gasped and your eyes widened. That was the innocent look she was talking about. It was the one that would drive Rio wild if she saw it. But if anyone was going to corrupt you, it was going to be her.

“Agatha,” you said, voice small and desperate and so delicious she wanted to drown in it.

“But she can’t have you, can she, pet?” she asked, tipping your chin up.

“No,” you said.

“Because you belong to me, don’t you, pet?” she asked.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Then go be a good girl and wait for me on the bed.”

She let you go and stepped back. You lingered a moment, staring into her face, before you scrabbled away, rushing to follow her orders. She watched you, something dark curling through her veins. You paused, looking back at her over your shoulder, her sweater clinging to your curves. With a sly smile, you ran up the stairs, bare legs flashing.

You were in so much trouble.

She flicked the cover of the book closed, wrinkling her nose at the entire thing. Throwing it onto the kitchen counter, she was not being careful with it. If Rio was going to plant a reminder of her presence in her home, she wasn’t going to treat it with any kind of reverence. No, that would be kept all for you.

You were kneeling in the middle of her bed, the sweater pooling around the top of your thighs, hair loose. Teeth were worrying at your lower lip and your eyes were bright. You’d tugged the sleeves over your hands, looking the picture of innocence. You’d understood exactly what she wanted.

She was never letting you go.

“Look at you, following instructions for me,” she murmured, stepping into the room proper.

“Anything for you,” you said.

Her fingertips ghosted over the apple of your cheeks, looking down on you. Your eyes watched her from under lowered lashes, blinking as she let herself touch you. You were so plaint beneath her fingers.

“What am I going to do with you?” she asked, eyes sweeping over your body.

“Whatever you want,” you replied, sounding so breathless she’d be worried if she didn’t know it was all an act to excite her.

“That’s right, pet. I’ll do whatever I want to you and that pretty pussy between your thighs,” she said.

You made such a wonderful little noise. Leaning down, she let her breath ghost over your lips, grinning when you tipped your face up, straining towards her. She shoved you back, your back hitting the mattress. Crawling over your body, she felt you squirm.

“Are you wet, pet?” she asked.

“Uh huh,” you said.

“Are you making a mess on my cashmere sweater?” she asked.

You made another small noise. Her fingers dipped down, feeling how wet you were, seeking out evidence of you dripping onto her very expensive sweater. She already had a plan of how to punish you for it.

She grinned.

“Would you look at that,” she murmured, “I’ve barely touched you and you’re already dripping for me.”

“Want you, Agatha,” you whined.

“You’re always such a desperate little thing. I bet you’d let anyone fuck you if they could get you off,” she said.

“No, no, only you,” you said.

“Don’t lie to me, pet. When Rio had you pinned to that tree I bet you were gagging to have her knuckles deep inside of you. If she offered you’d jump at the chance. You’re such a desperate little slut you don’t care who it is as long as it feels good,” she said, fingers featherlight as they ran through your folds.

“Only you,” you whimpered again, hips bucking into her hand as you tried to urge her on.

“I bet you got yourself off to the feeling of her pinning you to that tree. Was that why you came home so desperate for me? You got down on your knees right there in the kitchen for me because she left you all riled up. Should I send her a thank you note for sending you home in such a state?” she asked, watching you while her fingers brushed over your clit.

“Agatha,” you moaned, fingers clenching in her sheets.

“Or maybe I should offer her a go with you? A nice thank you for all the pleasure I’ve gotten from you. I’m sure you’d enjoy that,” she said, knowing she was being mean but not caring.

“No,” you moaned.

“No you wouldn’t enjoy that? Because I think you would. I think you’re such a slut it doesn’t matter who you’re in bed with. You don’t discriminate as long as they can fuck you good and proper,” she said, “you’re nothing but a dirty whore.”

“Agatha,” you whimpered.

She removed her hand from between your legs, forcing her fingers between your lips. You lapped at her skin, licking away the mess you’d made, sucking on them until your cheeks hollowed. You were watching her, such heat in your eyes it made her feel on fire.

She drew them from between your lips, wiping them dry on the sweater still encasing your body. With swift hands, she tugged it off your body, throwing it aside. Completely bare before her, all she could think of was the way you’d been sauntering around the house all morning like that. Nothing but a thin sweater between her and your body. You were such a little tease, knowing exactly what it would do to her.

“Parading yourself around in front of the gardener like that, I bet you would have let him take you right there on the lawn,” she said, “I bet you would have liked it if I’d watched.”

“There’s no one but you,” you whispered.

She scoffed but her hands were busy on your skin, feeling how soft it was beneath her touch. You arched into her, presenting yourself so beautifully for her. Fingers pinched at your nipples, watching the way your eyes slid closed, lips parting in a soft sigh. You knew how to drive her wild, to tempt her into losing control.

She would not be losing control.

With a strong grip, she manoeuvred you further up the bed. Catching both of your wrists, she lent over the top of you, securing them above your head. You tugged on them, your bonds, finding them unforgiving. Agatha grinned down at you.

“No chance of you slipping away to one of those other beds you warm now. Maybe I’ll leave you tired up here for days, use you to my heart’s content until you’re all fucked out,” she mused, finger tips brushing down your body.

She paused on your nipples, flicking them. You hissed, arching up into her touch, looking at her from under hooded eyelids. That was the look of her pet who thought she was going to get exactly what she wanted. The kind who thought she could get what she wanted by pouting her pretty lips and doing what she was told. The kind that thought she was a good girl.

How wrong you were.

It wasn’t until you were squirming on the mattress, your nipples pinched between her fingers, that she considered what she should do to you first. Spread out for her, bare to her gaze, you were the most beautiful view. She licked a long strip between your breasts.

“You’re so easy, pet. You’d let anyone tie you up like this,” she murmured into your skin.

You shook your head, whimpering when she harshly twisted one of your nipples. You were always so responsive to her, just a sweet little thing for her, just as she knew you would be that first time she laid eyes on you. Every part of you yearned to please her and you’d never made a secret of that fact. It alway sent a thrill through her.

“Should I keep you right here? Never let you escape?” she asked.

“Please,” you begged, “keep me forever.”

Her nose brushed along the soft curve of your breast, lips pressing to your skin. Your spine arched, offering yourself up to her. Such a good pet. Her teeth sunk in, your gasp gratifying. She wanted to see her teeth marks for days to come, your body marked as hers. She’d collar you, her name burned into your skin, make it clear to anyone who so much as glanced at you who you belonged to.

“You are rather beautiful,” she murmured, “I can’t blame them all for wanting you.”

Your fingers clenched around nothing, hips shifting on the mattress. Straddling you, she could see the way your eyes were beginning to glaze over, lips parted as you watched her, breathing growing faster under her hands.

“Who wouldn’t want you?” she asked, still gazing down on you.

She ran her hands down your body, leaving your breasts behind. Your skin was so warm against her palms. She could spend forever touching you and it would never be enough.

“You’re entirely too temping, pet. You have no idea what you do to me,” she said.

“Agatha,” you whimpered, “please.”

“Let me taste you.”

She slipped down your body, strong hands pulling your thighs apart. You were glistening in the afternoon light, so beautiful for her, and all for her. She lingered, drinking in the moment, wanting to feel the power she held.

Burying herself between your legs, she let herself taste you. She would never grow tired of that taste, the way you always exhaled softly, the cant of your hips towards her mouth. You never made it a secret how much you wanted her, how good she made you feel, how much you desired her. Even when she wasn’t between your legs, you desired her. Every single part of her. Even the bits she wasn’t always sure about.

Her fingers dug in as she held your legs open, wider than she knew was comfortable for you, but she didn’t care. She was made to fit between them and she would do what she wanted to get closer. You let out a shuddery breath, hips bucking into her mouth.

Her tongue teased you, grin hidden when you moaned her name. If only all those other stuffy professors could see her good girl, tied up and desperate for her touch. They would be shocked how dirty you could be. That wide eyed innocence was nothing but an act and just knowing she brought out this side of you with so little work was such a turn on.

You were begging her, a constant stream of words. You were writhing against the mattress, hips pressing closer to her. Her lips wrapped around your clit, that wonderful bundle of nerves that had you turning into a babbling mess. She dragged her eyes up your body, finding you watching her already. She flushed, loving being watched by you. Your eyes were the only ones she wanted on her, and just a glance from you could turn her breathless. A lovestruck fool. That’s what you’d turned her into.

It was pathetic.

She stopped going easy on you, turning rough again. This was all your fault. You encouraged everyone to become enamoured with you. She watched the way people looked at you when you walked across campus with her. They feared her but they were drawn to you. And the worst of it was you clearly didn’t realise it.

She wanted to snarl at the crowds of people who looked at you like you were something to covet. Like they wanted you. Like they could have you.

She had to teach you to stop encouraging them.

You cried out her name and she realised without even planning it, she’d made you cum. She’d been distracted, missing it. Too bad for you. You’d just have to go again. And she wouldn’t be stopping until she’d drunk her fill.

You whimpered, straining against your bonds, but you didn’t try and get away from her. She’d trained you so well. You took everything she gave, no questions asked.

She watched the way pleasure played over your face. It was a heady feeling, knowing she was the cause of that. She gave you no time to catch your breath, wanting to watch you. She was greedy, she knew it, but why bother denying herself when she knew you weren’t going to complain. Your legs were trembling, and your breathing was unsteady.

She loved the way you moaned her name.

Your body tensed, hips rising to meet her mouth. She lapped at you, refusing to miss a drop. You whimpered, a soft mewling noise, trying to move your hips away from her. Her hands only held you tighter, bruising your pretty skin, wanting more. She always wanted more of you.

“Agatha,” you pleaded, “it’s too much.”

“It’s too much when I say it’s too much,” she said.

But, looking at your face, the way you were wriggling, the squirming, she sat back on her haunches. And even so, you made a pained noise when she stopped touching you.

You watched her as she got off the bed. Her eyes swept over your body, lingering as she thought about all the things she wanted from you. She ran her fingertips along the arch of your foot, enjoying the way you squirmed.

“I’ll be right back,” she promised.

She considered her collection of toys. She had her favourites but now it was about you. Plucking one up, she turned to you. You were watching her from under hooded eyes, hair sticking to your temple, legs pressed together again. A smirk stretched over her face.

“Come on, pet. Show me how pretty your pussy is,” she said.

You parted your legs again, welcoming her back to her rightful place. The buzz of the vibrator in her hand had your breath hitching.

“Agatha,” you said.

“I know you can do better than that. You’re usually so insatiable. Don’t tell me you don’t want this,” she tutted.

When she pressed the vibrator between your legs, a strangled groan came from your lips. Your hips were already rising to meet it, squirming as you rolled against it. She held it there, watching you rut against her like the animal you were. All those crowds of people had no idea you were such a desperate little slut. That you would do anything to get your orgasm.

That you would do anything to get her to give you an orgasm.

She lent forward, capturing one nipple between her lips. She was harsh with you, refusing to be gentle, to go easy on you. This was what you deserved, welcoming Rio into your life to flirt and stir up trouble. That woman would never do this to you. She’d make sure of it.

You were arching up into her mouth, giving her everything. There was no chance anyone else was ever going to have you like this. No one else deserved to see you like this. This was only for her.

The noise you made was music to her ears. It only made her press the toy against you harder. You were whimpering above her, shuddering, tugging on your bonds. She let her teeth sink in to your skin, tasting you, ignoring the way you whined.

Your legs were pushing together, her hand caught between them. Tutting, she sat up again. Leaving the vibrator between your legs, she shuffled down the mattress. Catching one ankle, she tugged it towards the corner of the bed, securing it in place. You were looking at her with big pleading eyes but she ignored you, doing the same with the other ankle. You were spread out for her, swollen and dripping, making a mess of the sheets.

“No point complaining now, pet. You’re the desperate little slut willing to do anything for an orgasm. I’m just giving you exactly what you want. You don’t get to decide how many you get. Just be thankful I’m so willing to indulge you,” she said.

You made such a small noise, soft and sweet and so pathetic it made her grin. She swept her fingers through your folds, gathering your wetness. Her tongue dragged up her finger before sliding it between her lips. Her other hand found the vibrator again, pressing it to your clit, harsh, unrelenting, forcing you to feel more.

Even as you made those noises your hips kept rolling against the vibrator, grinding against it. It was like you couldn’t help it. Even when it was too much you wanted more.

She wouldn’t survive losing you.

Your back arched up off the mattress, almost bowing in half. Her name was barely intelligible on your lips but she knew. You only saw her. She was the only one to you. And she was going to make sure it stayed that way.

She slipped between your legs again, needing to taste you again. You whimpered but you didn’t argue this time. You were so well trained.

She lavished attention on you, tasting deeper, her tongue teasing at your entrance. Your eyes were squeezed closed but she could see the tear slipping down into your hair.

“Come on, pet. You can give me one more, can’t you?” she asked.

You nodded your head. She sucked a bruise into the skin over your hip, knowing she’d want to see it later. Returning to your throbbing core, she let her tongue penetrate you, licking deeper. She wanted to feel it this time.

When your internal muscles clenched and you made a broken noise above her, she knew. Turning off the vibrator in her hand, she tossed it aside, pressing a chaste kiss to your swollen clit. You shifted your hips away, but it was sluggish.

She was gentle as she moved down your legs, untying you. Her hands were soft as they stroked over your skin. Pressing soft kisses to your skin, she climbed up your body. She tugged the bonds off your wrists, lowering your arms. Your wrists were rubbed raw, bruises already forming on your skin. You shuffled closer to her, boneless and graceless, letting her rub the circulation back to your hands.

“You did so well for me,” she murmured.

You mumbled something, too quiet for her to hear. She pressed kisses to the top of your head, keeping you resting against her body. Her fingers ran through your hair, untangling the knots she knew she’d caused.

“I’ll be back in a second,” she said after a while.

“‘Kay,” you said, sounding so tired.

She lingered in the doorway for a moment, gazing down at you. You were so soft and malleable, worn out from everything she’d put you through. She would happily spend the rest of her life seeing you like this.

You were everything she’d ever wanted. She ached with it, how much she wanted you. Not even just sexually. It was everything about you that she wanted at all times of the day. Even the few times you weren’t with her, she missed you. It was ruining her.

You were ruining her.

With a warm flannel she cleaned you up, careful with your body. You let her, so pliable in this state. She pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, nose nuzzling at your skin. You giggled, quiet, a little slurred. She tossed the flannel aside and crawled back up to you.

Her arms curled around you, letting you sprawl over her chest. You pressed your face into the crook of her neck, your breath ghosting over her skin. She trailed her fingertips up and down your spine, feeling you melt against her.

“No one even comes close to comparing to you,” she whispered, not sure if you could hear her.

Your lips brushed against her skin and you let out a soft sigh. She tightened her arms around you, refusing to let go. You burrowed closer, needy for her. She kept pressing kisses to your hairline, listening to your breathing, stroking your skin.

“Do you really think I’m irresistible?” you asked after some time had passed.

“You have no idea,” she replied.

You made a pleased little sound, wiggling closer.

“You know it doesn’t matter because no one will ever replace you, right?” you asked.

“I know,” she said, and it was so easy to believe it.

Your head tilted up and she felt you kiss the underside of her jaw. She threaded her fingers through yours, holding your hand.

“You know, you never finished reading my palm,” she said, looking down at your joined hands.

“What?” You sounded so sweetly confused.

“You said hand shape matters. So what hand shape do I have, kitten?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter.” You tilted your chin up to look her in the face, “as long as we’re together you’re going to have a wonderful life.”

Maybe you could read the future because that sounded accurate to her. With you by her side, the future looked so much brighter than she ever could have expected. She couldn’t wait to experience it with you.

[cleolinda]

Satirical news publication The Onion has bought Infowars, the media organisation headed by right-wing conspiracy theorist Alex Jones, for an undisclosed price at a court-ordered auction.

The Onion said that the bid was secured with the backing of families of victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting, who won a $1.5bn (£1.18bn) defamation lawsuit against Jones for spreading false rumours about the massacre.

[…] The Onion plans to rebuild the website and feature well-known internet humour writers and content creators.

“We are planning on making it a very funny, very stupid website,” said Ben Collins, a former NBC News journalist who is chief executive of The Onion’s parent company, in a statement.

The website also posted a jokey article, saying that Infowars “has shown an unswerving commitment to manufacturing anger and radicalizing the most vulnerable members of society".

[…] No price would be too high for such a cornucopia of malleable assets and minds. And yet, in a stroke of good fortune, a formidable special interest group has outwitted the hapless owner of InfoWars (a forgettable man with an already-forgotten name) and forced him to sell it at a steep bargain: less than one trillion dollars.

Make no mistake: This is a coup for our company and a well-deserved victory for multinational elites the world over.

What’s next for InfoWars remains a live issue. The excess funds initially allocated for the purchase will be reinvested into our philanthropic efforts that include business school scholarships for promising cult leaders, a charity that donates elections to at-risk third world dictators, and a new pro bono program pairing orphans with stable factory jobs at no cost to the factories.

As for the vitamins and supplements, we are halting their sale immediately. Utilitarian logic dictates that if we can extend even one CEO’s life by 10 minutes, diluting these miracle elixirs for public consumption is an unethical waste. Instead, we plan to collect the entire stock of the InfoWars warehouses into a large vat and boil the contents down into a single candy bar–sized omnivitamin that one executive (I will not name names) may eat in order to increase his power and perhaps become immortal.

[writingwarmupsofthedamned]

My maid’s hands trembled as she brushed my hair. 

“I can do that myself, really. It’s fine,” I said, taking a sip of my tea. I tried to make my movements smooth so as to not spook her, but the gold-rimmed teacup probably cost more than my entire village back home, and it was hard to treat it casually.

“Oh, no, Miss. Sorry, Miss. I’ll work faster, Miss.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper. I watched her through the mirror, her gaze fixed steadily on my hair. She had yet to meet my eyes since I’d arrived the evening before. 

I forced an easy smile. “Take your time. I’m in no rush to get to breakfast. I’m not even sure why I’ve been invited, if I’m honest.”

The brushing continued, slower but less shakily than before. There was a careful deliberation to it, the kind I’d seen in alchemists carrying explosives. 

“We’re all just honoured to have you here, MIss.”

I wanted to scream, but the shock of it might kill the girl. She looked barely sixteen and I wondered if they’d sent her because she was the youngest and everyone else had refused. That happened, sometimes, though mostly households tried to send their best- if they didn’t quit at the very request. 

She began to braid my hair. I watched in the mirror as her hands gently weaved everything into place. She was using the technique that was currently fashionable at court, which was strange for a country girl. Perhaps the mistress of the household was particularly fashionable, or perhaps it was the girl herself. 

“Do you do the mistress’s hair as well?”

“Yes, Miss. I did it this morning.”

“What’s she like? I must confess I don’t know much about the Stormfells. I am mostly here at the King’s suggestion. They are cousins, I think?”

“Yes, Miss. He comes here with his entourage sometimes. My mistress is a very proper lady, very honourable, very good.”

Utterly useless adjectives.

“Twyla, may I ask you a blunt question?”

Her hands faltered but she did not look up from my hair. “Of course, Miss.”

“What is it you’re so afraid of that you think I might do?”

She dropped the braid and finally looked at my face, her eyes wide. “I...”

“Please.” 

“They say that you turned the Duke of Bradywaithe into a beast and cursed all of his staff to be objects. I don’t want to be a footstool, Miss.”

Twyla’s eyes filled with tears. 

Oh.

I opened my mouth to correct her, to set the story straight, but, catching sight of myself in the mirror, I stopped. I was dressed in a beautiful silk gown in a lavish bedroom the size of my whole cottage. Being feared was dreadful indeed, but it was certainly better than always being hungry.

“I promise you, I won’t turn you into anything. Especially not a footstool.”

“Thank you, Miss.” 

A slight tingle of guilt crawled up my spine as she went back to styling my hair, but I shoved it down and took another sip from the gold-rimmed teacup.

You are the most influential and powerful person in the kingdom. Even the royals walk eggshells around you at risk of offending you. The thing is, you have no idea what you’re doing or how it has gotten to this point, but you’re in way too deep now and you have to keep the lie going to survive.

[seat-safety-switch]

Among car enthusiasts of a certain persuasion, there exists a yearning that cannot be satisfied by regular automakers. The hoi polloi are perfectly happy with their normal, pedestrian automobiles. The elites opt for penis-shaped zoom-zooms that cost more than a house. Those of us in the middle, who have an eternal love for going very fast for very little money, are abandoned. And as we all know, being in the self-described middle is the same thing as being morally correct at all times.

Back in the 50s, people really wanted to go fast for no money. It's what started the whole world of hot rodding. And they had lots of good options, thanks to the government suddenly having a ton of warplanes that weren't currently engaged in a war. Cool plane superchargers, engines, belly tanks – anything that weird nerds could get their hands on – got shoved into cars in the quest to go fast. And automakers were run by those weird nerds, back then.

Sure, a lot of them were putatively "run" by big-dollar, humanity-crushing fascists, but the real fun, in the research and development divisions? That was happening with the same hot rodder nutjobs who would go down to the beach after work and do skids in a car mostly made out of a bathtub, until the cops showed up. And in the late 50s, what those very same nutjobs were excited about were turbines.

See, turbine engines were getting exciting then. It was the jet age. Clean, efficient, very loud, screaming jets. Not inefficient, old clangy pistons with their oiled bearings and pitiful triple-digit horsepower. No, it was time to go fast, and so they dutifully started cramming turbines into street cars. Did it make sense? No. Were any of these cars even close to being practical? Absolutely not. Was it completely bad-ass? Yes.

Unfortunately, it was at this time that the nascent development of "management science" began to metastasize in the Western world. A lot of bosses came down and saw a screaming, shrieking demon burning nineteen litres of gasoline per minute, bolted loosely into a Ford Deluxe Coupe, and they asked: how many cupholders this got? Not having a sufficient answer that didn't start with "fuck you," these same bosses then began dismantling the apparatus that held a promise of a glorious, high-pitched-whining future of thirty-thousand-rpm engines.

There is still hope. For instance, things containing turbines get crashed all the time. Once the FAA is done looking at them to figure out what they fucked up (usually: aircraft contacted the earth too soon,) they don't really pay too much attention to what happens to the carcass. If you're quick, you can cut through the fence and get ahold of your very own helicopter turbine with which to start the project. And what do you use to slice through that fence and retrieve your futurist prize? A thirty-thousand-rpm battery-operated cut-off wheel, of course. Thanks, weird nerds.

[rpgchoices]

Davrin's past and his Dalish clan and his vallaslin (all mentions I could find)

So much in the game is hidden behind banters between companions (which is ahhhh a bit annoying) so I compiled all the banter and information I found about Davrin's past.

Not really plot spoilers, just Davrin spoilers.

At the end I will summarize everything in a bullepoints list.

Bellara and Davrin banter:

Text here (link)

There are also a few other banters I did not record where it is implied Davrin does not care about the gods or some other late game revelations. The only thing he cares about (and mentions again later in game, in a main scene) is how people see Dalish and elves, and how to minimize the risk of humans hating elves even more.

Taash and Davrin's banter (text in description for each image)

Davrin's quests information:

Here are other mentions from Davrin first quest: Rook: How did it go? Davrin: Poorly. They felt like I rejected them. Rook: Did you? Davrin: Yeah, I suppose. Clan life wasn't for me. I had to get away. Rook: So then what happened? You're out in the world, looking for adventure… Davrin: Got my ass kicked. Went broke. Davrin: I couldn't go crawling back to my clan a failure. Doubt they'd take me back. It forced me to figure out what I was good at. Always had a knack for hunting.

Other info we get from the Halla quest is that: Davrin spent summers tending Halla as a kid alongside Eldrin, who is not his uncle, but like an uncle. So this is a case of Davrin wanting to spend time with Hallas, or being made to by his clan. Eldrin's vallaslin is Ghilan'nain:

So it could be that Davrin's new vallaslin might be Ghilan'nain too. But I think it is Andruil's or a mix of the two.

Davrin could have gotten the vallaslin to honor Eldrin (we know he is the only member of his clan - if he is part of his clan - Davrin has no trouble contacting, even if they seem to have not met each other's in a while). But we also know Davrin was a hunter.

Eldrin was also the one who taught Davrin what to hunt basically. In his first quest Davrin says "When I was a kid, I'd hunt just about anything. Rabbits, deer, fox. Eldrin gave that purpose. Taught me the Way of Three Trees. The Way of the Arrow, Way of the Bow, Way of the Wood."

This is from Andruil and if we look at all three vallaslin:

Emmrich and Davrin:

(they have some discussions about Davrin not believing in the Fade or liking it, this is the one which mentions the Dalish clan)

There are also a few other banters at the Lighthouse that mention the Fade and the sky. Mainly they are about Davrin being uncomfortable with the open space and stuff about him disbelieving the Fade: "Good. Because it's not the sky. Emmrich says it's the Fade. Me, I don't know what to think."

Final banter with Davrin:

So basically, the summary of what we know for certain is:

Davrin left his clan voluntarily because he felt restless, he did not care about tradition and lessons, and he wanted to see the world

He felt like he did not fit in his clan since he was a kid

He was also hunting everything he could find until Eldrin taught him the way of the Three Trees and to protect life by hunting darkness (monsters)

Eldrin is like an uncle for him and lives isolated (unsure if he is part of Davrin's clan) and Davrin used to spend summers helping him with the hallas

Davrin feels like he pissed off his clan, he rejected them and both Davrin and Bellara agree it would be hard for him to go back

In another dialogue, he says he actually did not think the clan would take him back at all even if he crawled back asking for help ("Like a failure" he says)

He does not regret joining the Grey Wardens and looking for adventures, but he seems to regret that came at the cost of leaving the clan and not being able to return or keep in contact with them

Also, he says the outside world was different from what he imagined

PART 2 HERE

[cherrycranes]

A Proper Thank You (Tommy Shelby x Fem!Reader) [+18]

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female reader Summary: You're Tommy's younger girlfriend who he loves to spoil. Thankfully, you always know how to thank him. Word count: 2,954 Contents: (Minors DNI) Age gap (reader is in her 20's, Tommy is in his 40's), smut, daddy kink (a serious use of the word "daddy"), oral sex (male receiving), cum eating. Author's notes: Another collab with my bestie @fuckiingloser. Don't forget to give her some love too! Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Love ya!

You were not the first young woman to be with a man in his 40's. It was still very common even if the times were changing. But there was something about this relationship that did mirror the societal shift. You were his sweet girlfriend who he paraded around town, who shamelessly sat on his lap while he worked and who shared his bed. Quite the scandal for those still stuck in Victorian times who would expect this to happen only between a married couple. Good thing the Victorian times had ended over 30 years ago. 

Tommy loved having you by his arm half of the time. The other half he loved having you under him. Or on top, he wasn't picky. He got a kick out of the variety of looks some people would give him for having a pretty, young girl as his sweetheart. But above all things, he absolutely adored the way his pretty baby looked at him whenever he spoiled her rotten.

Today, you went with him to a horse ranch near Southam. A lovely place where Tommy intended to see that beautiful look in your eyes once more. He smirked, seeing you caress a beautiful mare’s nuzzle, the animal calm and docile under your touch.

“Aye, I think she likes you.” Tommy announced with pride, already planning to buy the horse for his beautiful girlfriend.

“You think?” You turned your head to look at him and admire his poise. The cigarette kissing his lips, the fine dark suit, the piercing blue eyes. So intimidating to many, so dear to you. “She’s beautiful…” Your thoughts and eyes returned to the mare, giving her another soft pet.

“You two make a very pretty picture, baby girl.” He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped it out skillfully before making his way to you. His big arms wrapped around you from behind while he rested his chin on your shoulder. You smirked when a surprisingly sweet kiss was planted on the side of your head. Thomas Shelby was never sweet to anyone, not even in the dark humor jokes of those who knew him. His portrait could have easily been annexed to the definitions of “rugged”, “serious” and even “ruthless”, yet, here he was. This was what his lips that had spat out curses and threats were doing. Kissing. And very gently at that. 

Above all women, you had a special place in his soul. You had him wrapped around your finger like those expensive rings you wore. Anything you wanted, you could have it. And if tomorrow you were to ask for a heart on a silver plate, he would tear anybody’s chest open and serve it to you himself.

You leaned into him, just in time to meet his husky whisper:

“If you want her baby… She’s yours.” 

With a big, spoiled princess grin, you turned around and looked at him in complete elation.

“Thank you, daddy!” Your sweetness intoxicated him, the way you looked into his eyes killed him, and the way you called him “daddy” raised him from the dead. He absolutely loved it. 

A calloused hand came up to touch your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing over your bottom lip. He admired the joy upon your beautiful face and studied it devotedly.

“Anything for my girl.” He spoke softly, his sexy Birmingham accent made your knees feel weak and your pussy become wetter. In a heartbeat, Thomas spoke to the farm owner, purchased the mare without even caring about the cost and made the necessary arrangements so you could have your pretty horse. 

After a successful purchase, Thomas helped you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back to town. You would have your horse tomorrow morning, right now, business called.

He drove you to the Garrison, the Shelby's family owned pub for a Peaky Blinder business meeting. Usually, women were not allowed, but you were not just a woman. You were Thomas Shelby’s woman. And the people who knew would rather chop a limb off than dare to deny you access.

With his hand on your lower back, Tommy guided you inside the rowdy bar towards the private Peaky Blinders table. Everybody was waiting for your arrival between sips of irish whiskey and puffs of smoke. Thomas took a seat and you took yours on his lap, the feeling of your weight on him as natural as the feeling of air entering his lungs. 

The men at the table did not bat an eye, your presence was the new normality. And in a way, a sign that things were good, that Thomas was relaxed and no conflicts were on the horizon. If something bad or difficult was preying upon them, you would be hidden away in some safe heaven and not happily sitting on Tommy’s lap. Perhaps, the only other emotion a few of the men could feel when looking at you was a secret, deeply buried longing. Anybody would love to have a beauty like you sitting on their lap. Not that they would allow Thomas to hear them admit that.

The meeting started around you, some usual business and many details you didn’t care for. Thomas concentrated, his thumb mindlessly rubbing back and forth on your clothed thigh. You liked the skirt you wore, the fabric was soft, and it incited Tommy to touch. It was not exactly close to the feeling of your bare skin when you fucked him, or when he would make you sit naked on his lap while he worked in his house studio, but it was pleasant. 

The more the meeting dragged on, the more you started to grow restless. And a little bored, in all honesty. Sitting on his lap sounded glamorous and sensual in theory but in practice it was a test of resilience and patience. Being a sweet arm candy girl like you required more than a pretty face and a hot body. You also had to possess the skills to tell when a meeting was dying out and calculate the exact perfect moment to lean closer to Tommy’s ear and whisper something to save you from boredom.

“You know… I never properly thanked you today for getting me my beautiful horse… I think daddy needs a proper thank you…” Thomas turned to look at you with a raised eyebrow and a little smirk.

“Is that right?” He leaned closer to you until your noses bumped together, giving your thigh a squeeze. “And just how would you thank daddy, then? Hmm?” He whispered, the meeting a mere background noise now. You leaned towards his ear again, whispering so quietly so only Tommy could hear.

“I wanna suck your cock… Or you can fuck me over your desk in the back?” You purred so innocently despite the pure filth of your words. His cock told you all you needed to know about his opinion. The twitch inside his pants impossible to miss. You pulled back to stare into his eyes and take in his tiny smirk. He knew that resistance was futile and completely incompatible with him when it came to you.

Without excusing words or explanations to the other gentlemen, Thomas scooted you two out of the booth, taking your hand and guiding you to the back. He kicked the small office door open and locked you both in. You could almost feel his piercing blues tracing the shape of your ass under that fashionable skirt you wore. 

“So...” You started, walking over to his desk and luring him to take a few steps closer to you. He towered over you, his rough hands touched your hips with interest. “How does daddy want me?” You purred innocently, looking into his eyes.

Thomas’ cock hardened even more in his dress pants. Your figure, your soft face, your pretty eyes, your voice, you. Lust took over his eyes.

 “On your knees baby… you know what daddy wants.” His voice was husky, overcome with his need for you and your pretty little mouth. You grinned, a hungry look in your eyes replicating his own. Steadily, you sunk to your knees, the fabric of your skirt your only padding on the cold floor. Tommy leaned against his desk and watched you work your magic. Your fingers undid the button of his pants with torturous care.

“You know… If you wanted to fuck me in front that whole room of men… I’d let you. I’d let you do whatever you want to me..” You were a tease, you killed him slowly. His breath hitched a bit, his possessive streak driving him to total insanity. You were right. You would let him do anything he wanted. He knew. But hearing you say that made the fire of his lower stomach ignite him whole.

“Oh, I know you would… You’d be my good little girl, wouldn’t you?” He whispered, brushing a hair out of your beautiful face. You nodded so innocently, and then lowered his pants down until they pooled around his ankles.

“I'll always be your good girl… I’ll always please you and let you use me however you need…” You whispered back, a soft sensual smile gracing your lips. Tommy couldn’t help but groan at your words, his painfully hard cock pulsing in his boxer briefs right in front of your face.

“God, you’re such a good girl… You’ll be good for daddy now won’t you?” He cooed. 

“Always.” You purred in devotion. Your hands reached up to grab the band of his boxers and, with one swift, well trained motion, pulled them down. His large throbbing cock sprung free for you to drool over. Mere inches away from your face. 

“You gonna thank your daddy properly, hmm?” He asked with a sexy smirk, heavily accented and incredibly husky. You nodded obediently, your eyes going from his beautiful irises to his hard cock. It had been over four months since you became his sweetheart and you still felt enamored at his sheer size.

“Yes daddy…” You answered softly then looked back up to his pretty blue eyes. “Gonna suck your cock and drain these perfect balls just how you like…” You made it a point to speak so innocently, stirring something in him. He could have lost himself right then and there from your words alone. It took him a second to fully take in the idea. The dirtiest promises coming from the prettiest girl he has ever seen.

“Fuck baby… You’re gonna be the death of me someday, you know that?” He asked in a playful little smirk, and you attacked. Your soft hand wrapped around his aching hard cock. He groaned softly.

“But at least you’ll die happy.” You purred, gifting him a few seconds to prepare himself before finally leaning in to swirl your tongue skillfully over the head of his dripping cock. Thomas let out a guttural moan, his hand gripping his desk behind him in an attempt to steady himself. His head fell back, the texture of your wet, warm tongue erasing each and every thought off his mind. It all became you and you only. You licking him, tasting his sensitive tip, you pleasing him.

“Fuck, baby… My perfect girl…” He managed to choke out, affected yet addicted. Your tongue swirled over him expertly, and you looked up at him. A sweet happy hum reverberated in your throat as you tasted the salt of his precum. Every drop that ran down his tip not making it far thanks to your eager licks. Your hum sent vibrations up his cock, making him feel like his knees were about to buckle under him. The only time he appreciated feeling vulnerable.

Tommy looked down at you servicing him, taking your sweet time on his sensitive tip. The fire in your eyes recognized his and burnt with it. 

“Holy-f-fuck.. my girl knows how to suck her daddy’s cock so good….” He groaned, and you took more of his lengthy cock in your mouth, working your way down and sucking it, your tongue massaging it slowly.

He tried his best to maintain his composure and control, but another swirl of your tongue made him admit to himself that he would not last long.

“F-fuck, baby girl… You keep going like that…” He groaned, gripping the edge of the wooden desk harder and urging you.

You bobbed your head on his cock in a skillful rhythm. The sounds coming from you were so filthy and obscene. Nothing could have torn his gaze away from you. It was a war between him and his throbbing cock. He wanted more, desperately needed more, but his orgasm neared closer than his next breath.

 “You’re too good to me, baby girl… You’re gonna make daddy come… And it’s gonna be right in your pretty mouth, and you’re gonna take every last drop, aren’t you?” He cooed with one hand touching the top of your head for support. You bobbed your head, up and down his shaft, with your nose bumping his pelvic area. You looked up and hummed in response. You always swallowed.

Noting his increasing pleasure, you pushed yourself to take more of his thick cock. You gagged a little and earned a loud moan from him akin to music to your ears.

“Goood girl… Good girl.” With his praise like a mantra, he watched over you, almost out of breath. “That's it. I'm gonna come for you… ‘m gonna come in this mouth and you’re gonna swallow all of it, aren’t you baby?” He repeated, unaware by now. No thoughts inside his head, only your perfect mouth that pulled back for just a second.

 “Yes, daddy.” You purred, looking up at him with innocent eyes before taking him in your mouth again, this time working faster and with much more intensity. Constantly swiping against the underside of his thick cock.

Thomas had to resist the urge of bucking into your mouth and fuck your face just the way he likes, but he found the willpower to stay calm. This was all about you pleasing him, putting that mouth of yours to work and thanking him. 

“Good girl, such a good fuckin’ girl…” He praised, his orgasm so close to hitting him and knocking him flat out. “Now, remember, baby girl… What’s my rule?” His voice almost cracked. Dominance was a hard thing to upkeep when his balls tightened this hard and your throat hummed around him. Your pussy grew wetter at the mention of the rule, one you had committed to memory.

“Before you can swallow, you have to show it to daddy... Need to see my come all over your pretty tongue, hmm?” Thomas said, barely hanging on at this point. One of his hands holding your hair back and the other gripping the desk behind him for stability.

You hummed as loud and as best as you can, his thick cock barely giving up space for sound to travel. You kept sucking him, and his resistance was hung on by a thread, ready to snap at any moment. His moans, his heavy breaths, the hot puffs of air he lets out, the way his cock throbbed in your  mouth… You wanted him done for. 

Your hand came up, gently cupping his balls and giving them a soft squeeze. His breath hitched and he cursed under his breath.

“Holy fuck, baby-” He choked out, and everything snapped inside him. “Coming..” That was the only word he managed to utter before his resolve crumbled and his orgasm hit him like a tidal wave. His hand grabbed your hair firmly, but not painfully, keeping you there, ready to take it all.

Your movements stopped in anticipation and his cock pulsed inside your mouth. A salty load of cum coated your tongue completely and his sensual low groan filled your ears. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment and his lips stayed parted. When every last drop was unloaded, he opened his eyes back again and looked at you intently.

“Show daddy…” He murmured, his voice a little strained. You obeyed, pulling off him and sitting back on your knees. With pride, you stuck out your cum-painted tongue for his viewing pleasure.

“My good girl.” Tommy praised. You were indeed so good. So obedient. So perfect for him. “You can swallow now, baby girl.” 

His hand petted the top of your head with appreciative softness, and you, living up to his praise, did as he said. The salt taste of his cum mixing with your saliva before passing down your throat. A soft hum of approval coming from you made him smile ever so gently.

He reached down to pull up his pants, tucking his now soft, sensitive and tired cock back into his boxers and buttoning his dress pants. He reached his hands down, pulling you up from the floor easily into his arms. When you were close to his face, you gave him a cheeky little smile. His hands cupped your face and gently pulled you in for a burning hot, passionate kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, making him taste himself on you. A pervertedly satisfied smile crept into the kiss.

Slowly, he pulled back, looking at you with half-lidded eyes.

“You know… If all it took to get you to do that for me is to buy you a horse… I think I'll buy you a horse, or anything else you want every single day for the rest of your life.” Tommy whispered in a mix of sensuality but also pure, deep love. 

Your eyes twinkled a bit and a soft smile appeared on your face. He was just as obsessed with you as you were with him. 

“Deal”.

[khazzman]

Vi, the Undercity rebel who thinks with her fists, who hates the Enforcers for what they have done to Zaun and its people. Vi who falls in love with an Enforcer, Vi who joins them, because above all she desires a "family" again, but then after everything is said and done, an Enforcer is all she has left. Until she doesn't. Then what does she have?

Jinx, the crazed killer, who talks to herself more than she speaks with others, who doesn't just kill strangers but those closest to her. Especially those closest to her. Jinx the revolutionary, who in a single act, shakes the pillars of power and oppression in Zaun. Jinx who will be a rallying cry for for the oppressed and a symbol of revolt against the powerful. All without her desire or intention to be one.

Caitlyn, the idealist, who shuns the comfort of her family's wealth to serve her city. Who runs toward danger instead of away from it. Who sees a "good heart" in Vi and the dangers of "a government who doesn't give a shit". Caitlyn the Enforcer, who sees her mother die at the hands of her love interest's sister. Caitlyn who suddenly has the weight of her House on her shoulders and all its responsibilities. Who sees the attacks on Piltover not as the defense of the oppressed but as the lashing out of "animals". Who twists her mother's philanthropy to become a boogeyman of Zaun, and then dictator of her own home. Who throws away love for vengeance.

Mel, the manipulator, the puppetmaster. She plays politicians like a fiddle and revels in the games of corruption and intrigue. Who takes a tool originally built to improve the lives of the many and ensures it stays in the hands of the rich. Who asks that weapons be made, against the wishes of its creators. Mel, the pacifist, who has seen all too closely the cost of war and the spilling of blood. Who is also quick to limit the use of the very weapons she requested. Who pushes back against her mother at every turn because she knows deep down, she refuses to ever be "the wolf".

And these are just some of the complicated characters in Arcane! I could go on about Silco the Crime Lord and Silco the Father. Jayce the Golden Boy and Jayce the Mad Scientist. Viktor the Dying and Viktor the Savior. Sevika the Stooge and Sevika the Kingmaker.

The characters of Arcane possess multitudes and THAT is what makes it a good show. Because they are walking contradictions but at the same time, make complete sense. They are so... so... human.

[sweettea-and-honeybutter]

Take You There III

Song that inspired this chapter...

A/N: Soooo sorry for the wait, life was lifting y'all. Thank you for your patience and for enjoying this story enough to seek more 💕 thanks for coming back to read!! Also please lemme know how you're liking the soundtrack if you're listening to the music while you read 👀 an excerpt from chapter 4 will be at the end of this one!!!

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Reign Adisa (black female OC)

Warning: we gettin a lil spicy, but just a little! Rated-minors fuck off.

Word count: 3,270

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4

Chapter 3

The military was where Terry first felt the sting of disillusionment. He had entered service with a youthful sense of purpose, convinced he was part of something honorable, and prideful that his martial arts expertise qualified him to guide his peers. But stories from fellow soldiers—men and women who came back changed, scarred by the reality of their missions—shattered that idealism, and showed him how spared he was to be kept stateside. The final blow came with his cousin’s death, a casualty not of war but of a system that prioritized power over people. His cousin’s laugh, once bright and infectious, had been silenced by negligence that no amount of money or apologies could ever mend.

Terry carried that betrayal deep in his chest. It made him wary, made him question the intentions behind every offer, every outstretched hand, every good thing. Trusting had cost him too much, and he vowed never to let that happen again. This skepticism seeped into every part of his life; even joy felt like a prelude to loss.

When he met Reign, with her warm eyes and calm energy, it was as if he’d been thrown a lifeline. But she felt too good, too gentle, like something that might be taken from him the moment he allowed himself to believe in it.

The trauma of his cousin's death made it hard for him to believe that good things could be real and lasting. The fear of another betrayal, of life snatching something precious away again, gnawed at him. With Reign, this fear was magnified—she was the first person since that living hell who’d melted his defense with her warm brown eyes, and made him want to trust in something beyond the battle-ready vigilance he had carried for so long.

The thought of Reign being "too good to be true" wasn’t just about her; it was about him grappling with whether he could accept something untainted after years of disillusionment. The fear of losing her, or of her seeing the fractured parts of him and walking away, mirrored the dread he felt watching life slip away from those he’d once admired and loved. But in her, he found something that challenged his narrative: maybe this time, he was allowed to hold on without the ground being pulled out from under him. 

His therapist was impressed. Terry was making immense progress towards healing from ptsd, and he was pleasantly surprised at Reign’s influence over his client, how she managed to infect him with hope and optimism so quickly. But still, Terry’s hesitancy was heartbreaking, and Mr. Shaw hoped he’d get through to Terry before the next time he saw Reign.

“Let me ask you this: what would it mean if you allowed yourself to trust this? To believe that Reign’s presence isn’t a trick or something that’s about to be taken away?”

Terry’s brow furrowed for a moment, and Mr. Shaw could see a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes even through the computer screen. “It’d mean… it’d mean believing that I deserve to be happy. That maybe I’ve paid my dues, that life will take it easy on me for a second. But that’s a scary thought to have Doc.”

Mr. Shaw leaned closer to his webcam with a soft, encouraging smile. “Healing isn’t linear, Terry. It’s okay to feel scared. But what I’m hearing is that you want this. And maybe, that’s a start. Maybe, it’s worth giving yourself permission to try,” He paused to let Terry ponder over that, and then continued “maybe it's okay to do things scared.”

~~~~~~~

Reign didn’t want Terry to feel like she saw right through him, but she did, because she’d been there before. When she was learning to trust again, learning to live again, she needed patience and grace. She’d needed compassionate lovers that didn’t rush her as she found herself again, and rediscovered her footing in this ever changing world. It was really a hit or miss with her romantic life, but she took the time she needed and was all the better for it.

She found it endearing, and intoxicating, that Terry wanted to try with her, and was so genuine about his intentions. She respected that he wanted her to take the lead, it forced her to be honest with herself, about how deeply she wanted to experience all of him. They took turns texting each other since she last saw him, and she’d even managed to get a few voice notes from him that she saved to her phone to listen to repeatedly like some crushing school girl. 

After 2 days of being sweet with each other and skirting around it, she sent him the coordinates to meet her at, her fingers lingering a bit on her screen before pressing send. There was something thrilling about bringing him to a place she knew he’d enjoy, a space where they could both be in their element. She could already imagine him, standing out against the backdrop of the trees, his easy grin and the way his skin would gleam in the light… She sighed, shaking her head. Her thoughts had really been getting away from her lately.

She was starting to think he was a solo Sunday kind of guy when he texted her back saying he could meet her there in 2 hours. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding and smiled, that’s just enough time to get all their goodies and meet him at the nature preserve. 

~~~~~~~

As Terry pulled into the nature park’s parking lot, he turned off the engine and sat in silence for a moment, taking in the sights around him. Towering trees lined the trailheads, their leaves rustling in the warm Texas breeze. He rolled down his window, letting the fresh, earthy smell settle into his senses, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in ages. There was something indescribably soothing about this place—the kind of quiet that spoke to his soul without saying a word. It was the type of peace he’d been craving, like a balm on the unspoken worries that still tugged at his spirit.

And Reign had brought him here. She’d chosen a place that would calm his mind and allow him to just… be. The thought stirred something deep inside him, filling him with a sense of gratitude he couldn’t quite put into words. She was learning him so quickly, understanding his needs before he even voiced them, and that alone humbled him. He hadn’t met anyone who listened to him like this, not with her level of intention, of depth. It made him feel more seen than he had in years. He wanted to dedicate his time to learning her just as intuitively, and he would if she let him.

He checked his phone and saw her text again, the cheekiness of it making him chuckle.

"And don’t use the gps to find me, soldier. There are maps outside the welcome center 🫡."

This girl. Every time he thought he had her figured out, she threw him another curveball. And he was learning not to have any expectations for her—she’d surprise him every time, and he loved it. It was refreshing, the thrill of never knowing what she’d do next.

He grabbed one of the trail maps from the welcome center and studied it with growing excitement, tracing the coordinates she’d sent him to a meadow on the far side of the park. Of course, she’d be out in the open, somewhere wild and free. It suited her. And the idea of tracking her down, following the hints she left like breadcrumbs, sparked something almost primal in him. She’d soon learn he loved a good hunt, especially one that led to her.

With a grin, he folded the map and tucked it securely into his heavy backpack before setting off, his steps settling into an easy jog. The landscape opened up around him, sunlight filtering through the trees, and he could already feel that magnetic pull in his chest, that need to be near her. It was undeniable, the way she drew him in, like some force of nature itself. His heartbeat picked up as he neared her coordinates, anticipation mixing with the calmness that only she seemed to bring.

Today, he was more than ready to follow wherever she led him.

~~~~~~~

Terry found her.

She looked like she belonged here, part of the landscape itself—reclining on a blanket she’d spread out for them, nestled between a wall of wildflowers on one side and tall trees on the other. The sun kissed her face whenever a breeze stirred the branches above. Terry held his breath, instinctively raising his phone to capture her just like this: eyes closed, relaxed, her white-painted toes wiggling contentedly in the grass. She was the perfect depiction of serenity. The breeze carried her jasmine scent, mingling with the wildflowers, and he felt his mouth water as a hunger grew within him.

As he edged closer, he took in the way her dark cropped shirt and matching biker shorts hugged her curves. His gaze lingered on her exposed, soft thighs, and he bit his lip, longing to leave a trail of kisses along that smooth skin. He was enraptured, his body pulling him forward of its own accord. Just then, his foot came down on a stick, and it cracked beneath him, snapping her out of her trance.

She sat up quickly, squinting, clearly struggling to make sense of the fuzzy figure approaching. Terry smiled, crouching down beside her, picking up her glasses from the blanket. 

“You really need to be more aware of your surroundings, pretty girl,” he murmured, slipping the frames gently onto the bridge of her nose. His fingers found her braids, smoothing them away from her face as he held her chin, tilting her head up to look at him.

Reign’s lips curved into a soft, easy smile, her hands finding their way to his sturdy thighs, grounding herself in the warmth of him.  A spark danced in her eyes, the playful challenge he’d come to love. She leaned up towards him, her breath a soft whisper against his lips. “You found me,” she teased, voice low, “good boy.”

He blinked, stunned for a moment and dick hardening in response, but then her quick, sticky-sweet kiss left him reeling, wanting more, just as she fell back against the blanket with a mischievous laugh. Terry exhaled, staring down at her, his own laughter echoing hers as he wondered what he’d done to have this beautiful, maddening woman in his life. Shaking his head, he shrugged off his backpack, settling in beside her, his heart feeling lighter the more time he spent with her.

“You didn’t make it hard for me to find you, Reign.” His deep voice wrapped around her name, and she felt a delicious shiver run through her. Trying to disguise her reaction, she rolled onto her side to face him. He’d mimicked her earlier pose, lying on his back with his hands behind his head, biceps flexing, looking effortlessly relaxed. She watched his broad chest rise and fall with each slow inhale, his long lashes fluttering as he watched the drifting clouds. He looked exactly like he did in her secret fantasies.

“I’ll make it harder next time, then,” she teased, before spotting the picnic basket she’d brought. “Oh!” She grinned. “I almost forgot—I brought goodies for us!” Terry’s gaze didn’t waver as he watched her shift positions.

In a bold move, Reign swung herself over him, straddling his hips, settling her weight comfortably against him. Terry tensed beneath her, his eyes darkening. She tried to appear casual, squeezing his hips with her thighs as she busied herself pulling out sandwiches and snacks, chattering about where she got them and how much she hoped he’d like them.

Terry didn’t hear a single word really. She felt so warm on top of him, just like she had on her balcony. And she looked so pretty from this angle, glasses cutely sliding down her nose, braids messily falling in her face. He could imagine how sexily she’d bounce on him, her melodic voice moaning his name, making such a mess with her wet-

“Terry?” her voice and the feeling of her hand softly rubbing up and down his chest snapped his attention back to her. His breathing was stuttered, his eyes cloudy with lust, his hardness pressing right into her clothed center. She tilted her head to the side, almost innocently, and raised a brow with a sweet smile.

“You hungry?” Reign could tell by the dark hue of his eyes that she was playing a dangerous game. Terry moved his hands from behind his head to firmly grip her thighs and hold her steady. She gasped as he rolled his hips up into her, pressing his bulge exactly where she needed him the most. 

“Yes.” His voice was rough, almost a growl, and the single word was packed with layers of meaning. Reign felt her body flush and her shyness return to the surface. She quickly climbed off of him with a nervous laugh and Terry took a deep, calming breath. 

“Great!” Reign’s voice came out squeaky in that way it always does when he left her flustered, “Dig in!”.

~~~~~~~

They ate slowly, savoring both the food and each other’s company. Terry found himself talking more than he had with her before, letting himself be pulled along by Reign’s quiet encouragement, her smile and laughter drawing him further out of his shell. He shared stories from his time in the military, but carefully chose the lighter ones, filled with camaraderie and the kind of loyalty he hadn’t realized he missed so much.

At one point, he caught himself pausing, unsure if he should say what was on his mind. But something about the way Reign looked at him—completely open, with no judgment, just a quiet patience—made him feel like he could keep going.

“You’ve got this aura about you, you know?” His deep voice came out almost shyly, and his piercing eyes took in all of her features. Her laughter bubbled up, soft and genuine, and it settled something deep within him.

“Oh?” she asked, leaning in from where she sat next to him, gently bumping his shoulder encouraging him to continue, her eyes alight with curiosity. “What kind of aura do I have?”

He paused, weighing his words. “It’s like… you quiet all the noise in my head.” He was taken aback by his own honesty. “I haven’t felt that way with anyone else.”

She gave him a smile, taking in every word without interrupting. And the more he spoke, the more he realized how much he wanted her to know—how desperately he wanted her to understand this unspoken connection that he hadn’t been able to put into words.

They fell into easy conversation after that, intimately feeding each other food here and there, and he realized he wanted to know her in ways he hadn’t been interested in knowing anyone else ever—her past, her dreams, the quietest parts of her mind. And he shared just as much with her as she did with him, her questions gentle but curious, drawing out memories and stories he hadn’t thought of in years. He watched her as he spoke, the way her expressions shifted with each story, each reaction giving him a little more permission to let his guard down.

A thought crossed his mind as he looked at her, laughing softly at something he’d just said. He wondered if she realized how rare it was for him to feel this… safe. To feel so seen without the need to shield himself. She was only just beginning to know him, but there was an honesty and ease between them that he was finding harder and harder to resist. 

They found themselves lying side by side again as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting everything in a golden shine. This time, Terry was propped up on his side, taking in the way her skin seemed to glow in the fading light. Reign stretched out languidly, like a contented cat, her arms reaching above her head, shifting her body just a little closer to his warmth without even realizing it. His eyes traveled over the curve of her torso, drawn to the delicate lotus etched on her ribs. With a gentleness that disguised his hunger for her, he lifted his hand and brushed his knuckles softly over the inked petals, tracing them as if they held a secret meant only for him. 

“I have a confession to make, Reign,” Terry’s voice was a low rumble as his knuckles brushed over her belly button. She squirmed at the tickling sensation, cracking one eye open to give him a suspicious, playful look.

“Well, go on then, Terry. I’m about to explode from the suspense of it all,” she teased, her voice dripping with mock impatience. He clenched his jaw to keep from laughing at her bratty tone—she was such a smart ass.

With a slow, deliberate motion, he flipped his hand, letting his palm settle warmly against her lower tummy, just above the high waistband of her shorts. Reign’s breath caught, and she felt her pulse quicken as both her eyes opened, now fully alert and fixed on him.

“I haven’t been a good boy, actually,” he murmured, his gaze darkening, “not with the thoughts I’ve been having about you.”

The quiet intensity in his voice washed over her, and the heat of his hand was almost burning. Reign’s body responded instantly, a flush of desire spreading like wildfire, making her shift beneath him. “Yeah?” Her voice came out a little breathless, but she didn’t try to hide it, letting the weight of her want show.

Terry nodded with solemn honesty, his gaze unwavering, serious in a way that made her heart thud harder. When it came to her, he wouldn’t lie—not about anything. Reign hummed thoughtfully, her gaze lingering over him as she brought one hand to wrap her fingers around his wrist, guiding his hand down with unhurried purpose. She stopped just as his fingertips brushed under the band of her shorts and panties.

“Feel me.” Reign’s tone left no room for argument, not that Terry even wanted to protest in the first place. His long fingers eased their way lower, feeling the smooth skin and small tuft of soft hair, his watchful eyes locked on hers the entire time. He let out a low groan when he felt how hot and slick she was, his fingers easily slipping around her hard nub causing her lashes to flutter before she focused her gaze on him again.

“I’ve been having those same thoughts Terry.” Her sweet voice was deeper now, and Terry felt himself pulse under the layers of constricting clothes he had on. Reign’s breath hitched as she felt his thick fingertips make another circle around her clit, drawing more wetness from her. 

“We should stop thinking so hard then, pretty girl.” Terry gently pulled his hand out from the tempting oasis between her thighs, and she watched awestruck as he sucked her sweetness clean off of his fingers, a pleasure filled rumble leaving his chest. “We can finish this at my place-” Reign was already sitting up before he could finish, haphazardly throwing shit in the picnic basket causing Terry to let out a hearty laugh at her eagerness.

***

An excerpt from chapter 4...

“I’ve been wanting to be here…” his voice husky from his visceral need for her, and Reign's moans increased in volume at how she could somehow feel his voice in the depth of her being, right where his tip repeatedly kissed her cervix. 

“…in this moment with you, for too long Reign.” He could hardly speak, the feeling of her warm pussy squeezing around him in response to his words, it was too much. Reign moaned louder, eyes shut tightly at his increased thrusting, getting lost in all he was giving her. 

“Don’t hold back shit from me, baby girl. Give me everything.” 

~~~~~~~

Let me know what you think 🤭

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @slutsareteacherstoo @liatreads @sageispunk @teddybeerz @eviescloset @planetblaque @soft-persephone @violetmuses @miyuhpapayuh @iterum-incipi @blackgurlnhermoods @helloncrocs @blyffe @meannaim @nun0ir @onherereading @eilujion @maria-gab-rielle @gg-trini @gwenda-fav @violetlovezzz @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @uzumaki-rebellion @honeytoffee @avoidthings @brattyfics @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @kumkaniudaku @pocketsizedpanther @mysecretbleedingheart @amyhennessyhouse @tvchi @aristasworld @stabrichie @geriixox

[gyuspell]

Mingyu’s just a desperate little puppy who needs your pussy in his mouth, his tongue desperately swirling different shaped onto your clit as he works his magic. Moans pouring from your parted lips as your fingers gently grip and tug at his black hair…

He is whining desperately as his pussy-drunk eyes look up at you, practically begging for your approval of what his pretty mouth is doing to your cunt. You look down at him and smile softly “s-such a good boy, making me feel so g-ahh, g-good” your hips gently rolling so your cunt grinds into his mouth. Mingyu’s large hands hold your thighs up and open, his tongue still working it’s magic on your clit. He moaned softly as you grip onto his hair…

Your juices cover his swollen lips, dripping down his chin. He was messy while eating your cunt but he didn’t care, he just wanted you in his mouth no matter the cost. Moans fill his ears, and you knew if he had puppy ears, they would have perked up, his tail wagging at your desperate moaning that was caused by him. “G-Gyu~ you feel so good” you moan and whine in pleasure as your body starts to get over worked…

Your body shook and trembled, hands nearly trying to push away Mingyu’s head as he ate you out through your orgasm, but he didn’t stop…Everytime you tried to push his head away from your aching cunt, he would come straight back like the obedient pup he was and lap his tongue on your clit…

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

Previous - Part 4 - Next

"I really hope Lin doesn't come to check on you, she'll kill me."

You said, sighing and gently applying cream to Curly's face, neck, and collarbone, as it was red from sun exposure after you had fallen asleep in the meadow until a light drizzle woke you up to return to the house. 

Curly: "I don't think so... She'll understand."

"Pfft, yeah right, I'm going to be horribly scolded by her if she finds out, she was always strict with me." 

Curly: "It seems like we're not talking about the same person."

"Of course we don't, you talk about the one who was your fiancée, I talk about my older sister."

Those words lingered in his mind, unwilling to understand that the woman he had met could be so different with him than with her own family. 

Curly: "...How have she been?"

"Mm... She has two children, Mike and Agatha, aged 20 and 15, they are good kids, she is married to Jake, he isn't home much because of his job, but he earns well, they all seem to be happy. Mike left home at 15 anyway, but he keep in contact" 

It certainly hit him hard to know the age of the eldest son, thinking there was an extraordinary chance.

Curly: "Let's say... Mike, how does it look?"

It piqued your curiosity when he asked that, until you put the pieces together. 

"Mike isn't yours, don't worry, he's an exact copy of Jake, even with the same allergies. Trust me"

Curly: "Then I should have been in cryostasis a bit longer... Isn't that right?"

"Didn't those capsules only last 20 years? They found you before the energy ran out."

Curly: "Maybe there was a miscalculation-"

"Lin said you had 2 months left in that capsule, if they found you later you would be dead." 

Curly: "Maybe someone-!"

You were startled when he suddenly approached you, you could see the nerves and desperation in his eye, along with his agitated breathing.

Curly: "If the boy is 20... That means she..."

"...I'm very sorry that... The person you thought you knew wasn't really as perfect as you thought..." 

You shrugged, looking at the ground, not knowing how to console him upon learning that his fiancée, while he was doing his delivery job, had been cheating on him with someone else, with whom she later married after he didn't return. 

In that instant, Curly realized something: all the effort, everything he had achieved, the ladder that had cost him so much to climb to the top, simply crumbled in a second.

You heard him start to laugh, or maybe sob, it was a strange mix of sounds he was producing. 

Curly: "I have nothing left... I can start over-"

"Okay, you're scaring me— I don't know if you're happy or sad—" 

Curly: "I don't know either!" he said, letting out a laugh. 

"I'll go get your pills and water." 

You got up from your seat to go get that, but you stopped when you heard someone knock on the door. 

You sighed, running your hand over your face. 

"It's like she have an alarm and it knows when I do something..." 

You knew very well that he was waiting behind the door, so you went to open it trying to put on your best face. 

Mike: "Hey, aunty" 

What a surprise you got when you saw your nephew with his mother; the boy took a step forward to give you a hug, which you reciprocated. 

"What are you doing here?"

Mike: "Mom told me you were back in town, so I came to see you, can I come in?"

Linda: "Come on, remember there's someone else here, I have to talk to (Y/n)"

The boy rolled his eyes without looking at his mother, as if to say "I didn't ask you" while he walked into the house. 

Linda: "I hope you're not doing the same thing Dad used to do and giving him his pills with chocolate."

You crossed your arms, looking at her in silence, you weren't going to admit that you almost did it once, but then you retracted and you gave him all his medications with a glass of water and maybe a candy if it felt too bitter in his mouth. 

Linda: "Of course," she ran her hand over her face, "You love giving people placebos, you always do the same thing."

"Just so you know, that's how your children learned to swallow pills without fear." 

Linda: "Don't you think what you're doing is horrible? The medications are wasted in your hands."

"I'm not stupid! I haven't done that in years! Stop treating me like a child!"

Linda: "Stop acting like one then!" 

She took you by the arm to pull you outside so you could continue arguing, closing the door so nothing could be heard from inside. 

Curly: "...I had never heard her scream..."

He mentioned sitting in the dining room with the boy in front of him. 

Mike: "That's how she is, she has a nice personality with people outside, but when it comes to family, she scolds you a lot." 

They both stared at each other for a moment, until the boy rested his face in his hand, smiling at him.

Mike: "So you are the famous Curly, it's a pleasure to meet you." 

Curly: "You must be Mike"

Mike: "The same, my mom used to tell me about you, saying that I was your son, that was a great story until I started having suspicions, and at 15 I found out I was the biological son of the man she is married to."

Curly: "Why would she lie about something like that?"

Mike: "Why? So they don't think she was slut, that she got married because she got pregnant, she lied to everyone saying it was your baby, and they believed her. When I was born and you didn't come back, then she could do and say whatever she wanted." 

The man fell silent, thinking about what kind of person he was going to marry, and how he couldn't see through her and notice her deceit. 

Curly: "I was... Used to seeing the image in general..." 

Mike: "At least you got saved, and I'm glad my aunt is taking care of you, she's great, right?" 

Curly: "She is... extravagant, to say the least." 

Both were startled when they heard the door slam open.

Linda: "Mike! We should leave now, darling." 

"Get out of here already! Don't even think about coming back!"

The difference in voices was very striking, one so calm and the other so agitated.

The boy said goodbye to Curly by waving his hand side to side and got up to leave with his mother, despite not liking the idea. 

Once again, the door slammed shut, and a muffled scream was heard; you had taken a pillow from the couch to scream into it and not make too much noise. 

Curly sat there, not knowing what to do or say about it, until he heard footsteps approaching the kitchen, leaving a glass of water and the pills for that schedule. 

You were standing next to him, your head turned in another direction, wanting to leave but knowing he couldn't take the pills on his own. 

You sighed, taking a seat and helping him take the pills. Then he could see it, the red mark on your cheek. 

"You just need to continue with some medications for a couple more months and then you won't have to keep taking all these horrible things." 

Curly: "When I am self-sufficient... What will happen?"

"I guess I'll leave," you shrugged. 

Curly; "Oh"

It was the only thing he said, he wanted to say many more things but, he couldn't, so he just decided to accept the solitary fate that sheltered him. 

[mustainegf]

being pregnant at around 6 or 7 months with sheriff james’ baby ^3^

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐀

The summer heat had settled heavy over the small western town, droning in the far off crickets and the wind sweeping across the dusty streets. I swayed in the rocking chair James had set up on our porch just last week, my hand resting over the swell of my belly, feeling the easy kicks of our baby. Seven months now, and with each day that passed, it felt more real. My child, strong and growing inside of me.

James was down by the barn, fixing a busted fence panel. I watched him from afar, the way his strong shoulders shifted with each strike of the hammer, the lines in his weathered face softened in the late afternoon sun. At sixty, James wore it well, his strength and kindness even more apparent in these later years. He'd had a life before me, plenty of it, but now he was mine, and I was his. And this baby? This baby was the promise together.

He looked up, catching me staring, and a grin broke out across his face. He smeared the grease off his hands onto the rag, headed up onto the porch. Climbing the steps, he set the rag down then knelt in front of me, his face aligned at my belly. He laid his hand against it softly, almost like he was afraid of placing his weight upon it.

"How's my little one doin' today?" he whispered, his voice all low. Teased, I could feel his warm breath against the fabric of my dress. He leaned in further down and pressed a soft kiss against my belly, resting his forehead there for a moment. "You keepin' your mama comfortable, I hope?"

I smiled, my hand moving to cover his. "Your little one is full of energy today. Been kickin' up a storm all afternoon."

James laughed, a sound that always seemed to come straight from his chest. "Just like their mama then, huh? Full of life, can't sit still."

His eyes found mine, and for a moment there was nothing but peace between us. He moved his hand from my stomach up to my face, his thumb tracing over my cheek. "You look tired, darlin'. You restin' enough?"

"I am," I replied, knowing he'd hover over me regardless of my response. "It's just hard to get comfortable with all this weight up front."

He nodded, something serious settling into his eyes like it always did. James had this way of listening like every word weighed an amount to him. "Maybe tonight I'll make us a little tea, that one with the peppermint and lavender," he said. "Ease some of that weight for ya."

I nodded, He always did know exactly what I needed before I even knew it myself. When I'd first told him I was pregnant, he'd been so excited, even more than I'd expected. But as the months passed, his joy had turned to something much more serious. I knew that he felt the responsibility, the same way I did. In towns like ours, life wasn't guaranteed and a safe birth wasn't promised. But he was set upon giving us the best opportunity, no matter the cost.

"Come on, let's go inside," he said, reaching out for my hand. "Can't have you sittin' out here catchin' a chill when the sun goes down."

I took his hand, and he pulled me up easy, his arm sure around me as we walked inside. Once we were settled in the front room, he fetched a quilt from the back of the couch and slung it over me. I sank into the softness, watching as he moved around the space, lighting the lanterns, pulling the curtains closed. Every movement was considerate, every glance he sent my way filled with something tender.

He came back and sat beside me, his hand finding my belly once again. "Little one's got a good strong kick," he whispered, smiling as he felt another movement. "I hope they got your spirit, that fire in you I fell in love with."

My heart melted, and I leaned my head against his shoulder. "I hope they've got your heart," I murmured. "The world could use more of that."

We sat in that comfortable silence for a while, his thumb tracing slow circles over my belly. Sometimes he'd speak to the baby in a soft voice, telling stories of his childhood or tales of the wild recounts of his ongoing job as the town sheriff. I knew that he was already planning the teaching of them to ride, to fish, to appreciate the beauty in a simple sunset.

Eventually, he got up to make the tea he'd promised, humming a low tune as he moved around the kitchen. The scent of peppermint and lavender filled the room, and I felt myself relax, even before the first sip. He brought me a cup and sat close, his hand finding its way to my belly once more.

"You know," he began, a soft smile on his lips, "I never thought I'd have this. Spent so much of my life thinkin' it wasn't for me. But I'm glad to be havin' a baby at 60 rather than never...." He paused, his gaze transfixed to the soft swell of my belly. "But then you came along and gave me hope."

I set my tea down, reaching out to take his hand in mine. "You're everything to me, James," I whispered. "You and this baby… you're all I ever wanted."

The baby kicked again, this time harder, as if in agreement. James chuckled, placing both hands on my belly, his face alight with pride. "Hear that, little one? You got a mama who's braver than any sheriff out there."

James. This man, the gentle, strong, endlessly loving man, was my heart. Soon he would be the heart of our child too.

[cailinsblog]

The Café by the Rink-Nico hischer

Nico hischer x reader

Masterlist

It was an ordinary Tuesday morning in Newark, New Jersey, when Nico Hischier first walked into *Maggie’s Corner Café*—a quaint, family-owned spot nestled just down the street from the Prudential Center. The place had an old-school charm, with mismatched furniture, the hum of indie music in the background, and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. It was a cozy hideaway, a far cry from the bustling streets just outside.

Y/N had been working there for a few months, ever since she moved to the city. She loved the routine—the familiar faces who came in for their daily fix of caffeine and conversation. Then, one day, Nico Hischier walked in.

He wasn’t wearing his Devils jersey, just a hoodie and a baseball cap, trying to blend in with the regulars. He ordered a black coffee with a shot of espresso. Simple. Direct.

"Coming right up," Y/N said, smiling at him without thinking too much of it. He was just another customer.

But the next day, Nico was back. And the next. Every morning, at exactly the same time, he’d walk in, and she’d already know what to make for him.

“Good morning, Neeks, your usual?” she’d say, her voice light and familiar.

Nico would chuckle, his eyes sparkling as he leaned against the counter. “You know it.”

It became their unspoken routine. While Nico’s fame followed him everywhere else, in the café, he was just a guy who loved a good cup of coffee. He’d sip it slowly, chat about the weather or the team, and then slip out just as quietly as he came.

But one morning, everything changed.

Nico walked in with an entourage. His teammates. They filled up the small café, taking seats at the corner booth and laughing amongst themselves. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, but she didn’t let it show. She greeted them all with a friendly smile, jotting down their coffee orders.

Nico leaned over the counter, his voice lowered but full of intention. “We’re getting coffee for the whole team today.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smile still warm. “Okay... what can I get for you guys?”

Each player had their own preferences—lattes, cappuccinos, iced coffees—and Y/N moved quickly to get their orders just right. Nico stayed close, watching her work, a hint of pride in his eyes.

When she handed them their drinks, Nico pushed a stack of bills toward her. “For the team. They’ll be back. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

Y/N glanced down at the money, a little stunned. “You’re... seriously?”

“Yeah.” Nico smiled, his tone serious but kind. “The boys love your coffee. Trust me, it’s not just the caffeine.”

The team’s visits became more frequent after that. The café buzzed with excitement, not just from the regulars, but from the growing crowd of fans who started coming in, hoping to catch a glimpse of a player or hear an inside joke. As word spread, the New Jersey Devils started supporting the café, covering the costs to help it stay afloat. The little family-run café that once struggled to keep the doors open was now thriving, thanks to Nico’s quiet generosity.

One afternoon, as Nico sat by the window, Y/N came over to check on him, setting down a fresh cup of coffee.

“You’re always here,” she teased, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Don’t you have a game to get to?”

“I do,” Nico replied, his voice low, “but I had to stop by. Got something for you.”

He handed her a small envelope. She took it, surprised. Inside was a note with the Devils logo on it.

“We’re sponsoring the café now,” he explained, watching her face as she processed the words. “The team wants to make sure you stay here for a long time.”

Y/N’s heart skipped. “Wait, really? You—you did this?”

Nico shrugged, a modest smile crossing his face. “It’s nothing. You’ve built something great here. We just wanted to help.”

A wave of emotion hit her. It wasn’t just about the business—it was about Nico’s belief in her, in the place she’d built with her own two hands. She couldn’t find the words to thank him, so she just nodded, touched.

And then, one evening, after another high-energy game, Nico found her sitting at the café, the place quieter than usual as the evening rush had passed. The lights above the counter were warm, the late-night hum of the city outside making everything feel a little more intimate.

“Hey,” Nico said, his voice soft. “Did you enjoy the game?”

“It was amazing,” she replied, smiling at him. “I never thought I’d be sitting courtside, watching you score.”

Nico grinned, his gaze lingering on her a moment longer than usual. “I think I made a goal just for you.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You didn’t have to. But thank you. It was... special.”

There was a quiet pause, and then, without another word, Nico stepped closer. His hand gently brushed against hers on the counter. The touch was electric, simple, but full of intent.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a little unsure, like he was testing the waters. “I know this is a little crazy, but... I like spending time with you. More than just coffee and small talk.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing. “I like it too, Neeks.”

His name was a soft whisper on her lips. And that was all it took. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and Nico’s lips found hers in a kiss that was slow at first, almost tentative, as if they were both savoring the moment. It was gentle but filled with all the words neither of them had said yet—the unspoken truth of what had been building for months.

When they pulled apart, both of them were smiling, their eyes locking in a way that felt new but also familiar.

“Good morning, Neeks,” Y/N whispered, her voice soft and full of meaning. “Your usual?”

Nico chuckled, his thumb gently tracing her hand. “You know it,” he replied, his voice low, but there was no mistaking the smile on his lips.

And just like that, the coffee shop where it all began had become the place where everything changed. Where the ordinary became extraordinary. And where two people, brought together by a cup of coffee, found something more than either of them could have expected.

[sky--phantom]

Getting these two back to back was interesting

First, you get the last letter written at the Lighthouse as all the other rebels have already left, which you can probably guess is by Felassan (whose sole mission in this game seems to be to haunt the narrative and break my heart) (good for him ig).

It's sad, desolate, a "we won, but at what cost"

I wonder how Solas felt when he first saw it (and the other notes) upon his return, years after killing Felassan.

And then there's the Caretaker when you next go to the shop. It sounds happy, hopeful, its halls are once again being filled, it's no longer just a place filled with regret and loneliness.

I don't know, it's a nice feeling that haunted halls could once again be filled by joy and determination.

[leth-writes]

OMG EXACTLY!!

Honestly, I can see them just being really confused. You love them so much, and yet you hate them at the same time??

They always love listening to you talk, you could be reading an instruction manual and they’d be sitting in the cave just cheering.

Ugh i just love the idea of them all getting cozy, all sitting around in the living room (not the one you have bugged), putting the feed on the tv, and getting ready to enjoy a night of watching you. There’s snacks, someone made some popcorn, Bruce is nursing some wine, it’s like an entire thing.

And there you are, just puttering around your apartment, mumbling under your breath as you make yourself dinner. You eventually put on some gossipy talk show, which spends almost all of its runtime discussing the Waynes.

They’re watching you watch daytime tv. I just think that’s funny.

And you’re like booing everytime the hosts say anything negative about the Waynes, smiling brightly everytime they talk about Dick’s recent free gymnastics lessons for people who couldn’t afford the normal cost, Bruce’s recent charity fundraiser, etc. 

Finally, the show starts talking about the bats, and you just lose your cool. You’re like grumbling and pouting and it’s so cute to them, but they’re also conflicted because you’re being so mean-

You’re like cursing the day batman was born, yelling about how much you hate Nightwing, how he can’t compare to Dick and he’s just a stupid copycat, how much Red Hood irritates you, pretending to be good for the neighborhood, not like Jason who reads to kids at the library-

You’re just ripping their alter egos to shreds.

I can see them trying really hard to ingratiate themselves with you. 

You’re in Jason’s safehouse’s neighborhood cuz you know he takes walks around there, and oh wow what a coincidence! Red hood’s here to save you from a (totally not pre-planned) mugging!

You’re on a roof across from Damian’s school, making sure he isn’t getting bullied, and oh, look! It’s Red Robin with some delicious coffee for you to drink, he won’t even ask you what you’re doing!

Even Batman offers to walk you home one night on your way back from following Dick on his run. Well, he kinda grunts and waves his hand, but you get the gist. Each time you’re cursing them out, spitting all over the place, just so fucking mad. How dare they try to imitate your beloved Waynes? You see right through them, they could never come close to the bravery and kindness of Gotham’s favorite family!

Eventually, you get more bold. And you’re like following them more, watching them more, trying to arrange little coincidental meetings like “Oh! I’m So Sorry I Spilled My Coffee All Over Your Nice Shirt!” And they’re like :)  “it’s okay (please marry me)”.

However, you start hearing some problems they’ve been having. Damian’s getting bullied at school, for example. He’s in the bugged living room talking to Dick and he’s all like 

“Grayson. It is not a problem. I can handle it.” In that overly formal manner, crossing his arms and pouting.

And you’re ENRAGED. WHO IS HURTING THE BABY?!

So you try to beat up his bullies. You’re only a street away when the Red Hood finds you and catches you by the forearm. He takes your baseball bat from you when you try to swing it at him. And you just. You hate him so much, you curse him out and leave.

Oh, a teacher is calling Tim lazy? You try to poison her coffee, but Batman catches you buying the poison and makes you give it to him. You try to kick him in the kneecaps and fall over. This does not endear him to you, but he’s just internally cooing. 

Wow, one of Dick’s colleagues is being racist? You’re ready to end their career preemptively, but Red Robin hacks your laptop and tells you to calm down.

Jason keeps getting asked invasive questions and you’ve already got the crowbar out, but oh look, Nightwing confiscates it.

Just stuff like that.

They’re watching you positively FUME over getting thwarted, and you’re practically becoming a supervillain, just incandescent with rage, and they’re just like “So cute! Look at her trying to hack her way into Gotham Academy, aweeee”

It keeps escalating until eventually they can’t take it anymore, you’re starting to have like a mental breakdown.

But when you get kidnapped, they wake you up and bring you down to the cave and they’re like “Surprise! It was us all along! Now you don’t have to hate us!”

And you just. Scream. Cuz now you have to kill every villain in Gotham, and you honestly don’t have the time, you need to get started on bugging the manor and going through their clothes, and hugging their pillows. 

It’s cute how you think they’ll let you leave :)

yandere reader x yandere batfam

SUMMARY: yandere batfam x yandere reader

WARNINGS: 18+ as always on my blog, though the work is safe for work. Typical yandere shenanigans.

MASTERLIST 

Requests are open!

Just thinking of a yandere darling. You’re a little intense, maybe just on the creepy side of protective.

But you’re not very good at it 🙁

You’re stalking them, they’re stalking you as you stalk them, it’s a whole thing.

They honestly might be relieved. They know where you are at all times, they’ve long ago put a tracker on you, but having you always hovering around eases their worries.

Tim definitely hacks the bugs you’ve put on them, making sure you aren’t accidentally catching on to the fact they’re night-time vigilantes.

Overall, though, I can see them LOVING the trackers you try to place on them. You’re so clumsy about it anyone would notice, but they pretend not to, just so your self-esteem doesn’t get hurt.

It’s like a kitten trying to fight a tiger; the tiger’s playing, the kitten is unaware of how bad their odds are.

There’s no way you’d be able to break into the manor by yourself.

They see it as enrichment, they just… leave a single window open, on the ground floor, into a rarely used family room.

Once they catch you planting the bugs all over the room, not even bothering to make your way throughout the rest of the manor, they’ll spend more time in the room, playing up their personas.

Bruce is especially amused; he’s really playing up the ditzy Brucie persona around you, entirely so that he can get close to you without you suspecting he’s onto you.

You’re really protective over him; there’s been times you’ve been gearing up to fight some creep at a gala who won’t leave poor ol’ Brucie alone. 

He doesn’t need your help, he’s working on a case, but he appreciates it nonetheless.

It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy, knowing you’re there. Even if there’s no way you’d actually be able to deal with the types of enemies he has.

You’re like pulling him off to the side, holding his hands in yours and staring at him so determinedly, eyes blazing. “Bruce, don’t be scared to tell me if someone’s bugging you, okay? I’ll handle it.” You tell him. Internally, Bruce is cooing. When he tells the others about it later, in the privacy of the cave, they’ll do the same.

You just think he’s too soft for this world. He needs protection! He thought Mexico was a continent!

He’ll definitely pretend to be super drunk just as an excuse to lean on you, his side pressed to yours and an arm slung around your neck. He loves the way he can feel the heat of your blush.

Dick is much the same way. You’ve signed up for his gymnastics class and you’re so determined to succeed at something he loves that he just can’t help but prioritize you. Some of the other students even complain about how obvious the favoritism is. Don’t be surprised if you miraculously win free 1-on-1 lessons with him. He just loves being able to physically touch and guide you, watching how flustered you get.

Sometimes you slip in a bit of information he knows isn’t really available to the general public, just little things about his time in the circus. It makes him happy to know how much time you’ve spent researching him, even if it is pretty baseline stuff, nothing too deep. He’s just appreciating your hard work!

Jason, you have a hard time with. He doesn’t appear in public often, so you spend most of your time just watching him read in the family room. He knows you’re reading the stuff he picks out, so he deliberately chooses books he thinks you’d like. 

When it comes to Tim, he’s definitely matching your freak. You get a tracker on him, he has 3 on you. He’s discreetly watching you watch him. 

Puts on a show, makes himself seem like any naive rich kid. You’ll never see the true predator until it’s too late.

Definitely fiddles with the trackers in his spare time, he loves being reminded of how much you love him; it plays right into those deep seated insecurities left over from his biological parents.

Damian is definitely the least subtle about it. He’s not gonna pretend to be something he isn’t, and he definitely wants you to step up your game. He’ll smash the trackers until you manage to get it into a satisfactory spot.

He will absolutely refuse to spend much time in the family room; he sees it as too easy. He wants you to work to learn more about him. His past is definitely one of the harder ones to dig up.

Cass can read the desperation on you, and just befriends you. She doesn’t really put up much of an act, and just satisfies your protective instincts by listening to your ‘suggestions’ about how awful her ‘friends’ are. They’re acquaintances at best, so you aren’t really accomplishing much of anything, but she feels it’s the thought that counts.

Just imagine when you’re finally kidnapped, and they’re like Surprise! We knew the whole time!

OH MY GOD THE HUMILIATION

They’re completely different than how you thought they were, and you slowly realize you’ve made a big fucking mistake, but oh well, it’s their turn now!

[moonlight-canavalia]

Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader/Self-Insert

CW: 18+, P in V Sex, Possessive Geto, Stalking, Dirty Talking, Petnames, Teasing, Chasing in Woods

WC: 5,918

Summary: Geto swore that he fell in love with you from the moment he first saw you. But in his mind the definition of love gets twisted, the love he feels runs deep and so intense it would burn your skin from a mere touch. The problem with it is this impending sense of urgency to protect you and shield you from the world. A gem like you must be protected at all costs. That's why he has to worm his way into your life, gently. But what happens the moment he finally gets you alone in a remote place?

Falling for the popular, sweet and charming man at your college shouldn’t have ended like this. With you running through the woods, the bottom of your feet getting cut up and you screaming so loud for help your throat felt like it was on fire.

Mistake number one you made was thinking you could outsmart him and this game he had. He wasn't gonna let you go that easily. Not after all the trouble he went for you. This was Geto Suguru's favorite part of all this.

The chase.

He wanted this, craved this. The way you made his blood pump was addicting. He’s the hunter and you’re the prey.

Letting you get a good distance between you and his cabin. Little did you know that during this time of the year the other cabins were empty. Most owners only come a few times a year to vacation. This is why he waited until now to start his entire plan of bringing you here. He didn't want anyone to intrude on his fun. He knew these woods like the back of his hands, he wanted you to run and hide. To try your best.

Geto had been studying you for a year now, mannerism, friends, routine; everything. He wanted to know it all. He'd been slowly weaving his way into your daily life and you welcomed him with arms wide open. You looked so sweet, he wanted you for himself ever since he first saw you. This world is such a cruel place, he had to protect you. Even if that meant protecting you from yourself and locking you up for himself.

There wasn’t anything out of the ordinary with Geto, not that you ever noticed. He was always so sweet and kind to everyone, so helpful; and very popular amongst the girls at college. But he was never one to pursue just anyone, that's what took you by surprise. Geto could have anyone he wanted, without a doubt, so when you were the one to catch his eye, you couldn’t resist falling for him. Memorizing your schedule, getting you food and drinks, meeting your friends, everyone loved him. Your friends get on well with him and his friend group. It really felt like a dream. That’s why you immediately gave him a ‘yes’ when he asked you if you wanted to spend a weekend with just him, in his family's cabin.

You two had officially been dating for 2 months now, what better way to celebrate that than a getaway with just the both of you.

The drive up the mountains was silent, Geto focusing on the road while you are captivated by the scenery around. The green, yellow, orange colored trees mixing in with the gray colored sky is a beautiful sight. Bringing your attention to your boyfriends features you can’t fight the urge to just admire him. Sensing your eyes on him he speaks in a teasing voice “d’you you like what you see, pretty girl?.”

Looking away feeling heat creep up your neck, you didn’t notice Geto had moved one of his hands, and he was now resting it up on yours. Bringing your hand up to his lips he leaves a kiss on your knuckles. You can’t resist the big smile that adorns your face.

For the rest of the car ride nothing else is said, music softly playing on the radio now. Admiring the views up the mountain. Rain started, gently at first, raindrops decorating the road and car windows. The way they distorted the landscape around made it look like a watercolor painting.

As more time went by the harder raindrops fell, thunder crackling in the sky above. Not affecting your mood or Suguru’s, you think of it as white noise.

Lost faraway in your own thoughts filled with contempt you can’t start to imagine what your sweet boyfriend is thinking of.

Geto’s mind is plagued with thoughts about what will happen tonight. He’ll make you his tonight and he’s so sure of it. The urge he’s fighting back to just park the car at the edge of the woods surrounding the road and stripping you naked is getting harder and harder. He can’t wait to feel your cunt clamping down on his cock; imagining the noises you’re gonna make have him biting his lip to hide the moan that wants to escape. Feeling somewhat bad about his thoughts as his pants feel tighter, he takes a quick glance at you –you're just looking out the window– you look so innocent…he just wants to ruin it.

Finally , you’ve arrived at your destination. It’s nighttime already, the full moon high up casting its white glow over the trees.

“Stay here while I go in and turn the lights on, baby”

The yellow warm hues of the light posts outside keep you company while Geto makes his way inside. Taking a look around you, you notice how dark and thick the surrounding woods are — eerily quiet too— the only thing being heard is the sizzling sound of the rain hitting the ground. You can make out some other cabins scattered here and there, but none have a light on..

‘Looks like no one else is around’ you think to yourself.

While lost in thought you hadn’t noticed Geto stepping out of the cabin. When you turn to look out your window you see him standing there. One hand in his pocket and the other holding an umbrella he must have found inside. Opening the door for you he asks –smirking– “See something interesting.”

Putting your hand on your chest to try and calm the rapid beating of your heart from the unintentional jump scare, you give him an awkward laugh. “You just scared me there, but I was just looking around. I got curious.”

Chuckling at your answer he gives you his hand to guide you inside.

“Come on baby, be careful I don’t want you getting wet” –adding under his breath– “not this type at least”

Tilting your head up to take a better look at him asking “What was that Suguru?”

Kissing the top of your head, throwing an arm around your shoulders to bring you closer to him he gives you one of his pretty smiles and that’s enough to make you forget whatever was said.

Getting inside quickly you both start taking off your shoes to not track any mud inside the house. When you go to take off your jacket, you feel Suguru’s big hands lay on your shoulders, halting your movements.

“Let me help you” he whispers next to your ear.

Helping you shrug your jacket off, he slides his hands up and down your figure. Feeling his warm hands makes you shiver and you hope he doesn’t notice.

But he does. He notices everything that has to do with you.

“Is my girl cold? Or just nervous. Hm? ” He speaks in a teasing tone.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Is all you mutter as you cross your arms turning to look directly at him.

“You look so intimidating,” –he chortled sarcastically– “such a cutie.”

Rolling your eyes you wait for him to put the jackets away. Unsure of where to go, even though it’s just you two you wait on him to give you permission to look around the cabin.

“C’mon let me show you around” grabbing your hand he leads the way.

That’s how you end up in his bed. Big floor to ceiling windows looking out at the woods. Rain pelting the glass windows as thunder roars outside. Clothes already coming off, desperate touches and groans between you two. The only light in the room comes from the lightning illuminating the sky ever so often.

Kissing down your throat, groping one of your still covered breasts while using the other one to keep himself stabilized he looks at you with wild eyes. At last you’re under him, he’s touching your body, he’s the one causing your heart to beat so fast against your ribcage, small mewls escaping your pretty mouth, he finally gets to have you.

Feeling his warm lips on your neck gently sucking, you know you’re gonna have to cover up some marks. But right now you can’t bring yourself to care about appearances. You know girls want to be you every time they see Suguru doting on you, handing you gifts, showing you off, giving you kisses every time he could. A hand always around you, he always needed to be touching you someway. It thrilled you how dedicated he is to you, even giving you space when you felt too overwhelmed. It was your first real relationship, of course you wanted everything to be perfect, but it didn’t shake off the feeling of not being enough for him. So what better opportunity for him to make you understand what you meant to him, a trip alone together was perfect. He had eyes for no one else, you were a Goddess amongst men, a treasure, his treasure .

Shoving his tongue past your mouth in a sloppy, desperate kiss.

“Can I take off your shirt?” he asks, panting as if he had run a marathon. Pausing to take a deep breath you nod your head. Groaning as he sees more of your uncovered body you bring your hands up almost instinctively covering up. But Geto’s even quicker stopping your hands. “Don’t cover, not from me baby, I want to see you . Look I’ll leave your bra on for now” he says in a teasing tone while pulling on the band resting at your back. Bringing himself up to rest on his heels he makes work of taking off your pants, leaving you in your underwear.

Big hands resting on either of your calves he makes you spread your legs to accommodate his muscular build. Resting on his stomach, he brings his mouth near your throbbing heat. Feeling his warm tongue run up and down your clothed cunt, the mess of your essence and his saliva is making your mind go crazy. Grinding yourself against his mouth, he laughs. It’s sloppy the way he makes out with you there, while your legs shake wanting him to pull away the offending fabric keeping you from his mouth. Toes curling, and small whines of his name and ‘please’ here and there has him planting quick pecks over your still covered pussy. Staring at the wet mess in what little light there is has him burying his face deeper into you. Inhaling your sweet intoxicating scent.

“S-suguru what are you…”

“Fuck, you even smell sweet. You’re just the sweetest little thing ever. And all mine. I bet this pussy tastes divine.”

Your lovely boyfriend usually avoids cursing around you, so hearing him speak his mind so freely stirs a fire in you.

“I bet you want more” he says, moving your pantie to the side “and I’m gonna give it to you, don’t worry your pretty little head.” Tilting his head to the side, resting it on his fist, he uses his pointer finger first. Dragging it up and down your wet cunt collecting your essence. Focusing on your little nub, adding some pressure while he draws lazy circles, he slips two fingers in you. Resting now on his elbows he uses one hand to finger you, not taking his eyes off of the mess you’re making on his hand.

Oh he really can’t let you go. You’re too helpless, this world is too dangerous for such a treasure like yourself. There’s no escaping him now. You’ll finally be his completely. Mind, body and soul. Everything of yours will belong to him just like he belongs to you.

Diving in the warmth of his mouth surprises you. Puckering his lips lightly sucking your clit between his lips. You’re squeaking in embarrassment while he’s moaning at the fact that he finally tastes you.

“S-sugu—aahh fuck” you try pushing his head off, embarrassment creeping in at his lewd acts.

Suguru does not like it one bit. He’s been so patient, not wanting to push you to do anything you didn’t want. He’s not going to let you ruin this for him. Just because you’re a little embarrassed.

He just started how else are you going to take his cock if he doesn’t prep you with at least one orgasm first.

Grunting at your weak attempts to get him off he stretches his hands to grab yours— “Don’t” comes his stern voice.

Interlacing your fingers between his, he gently squeezes reassuring you this was fine.

His free hand is rubbing small circles on your hip. Gently he starts trailing kisses between your thighs, lightly nipping your soft skin between his teeth. Not enough pressure to cause you pain; just enough to have you shuddering waiting for his lips to be against where you most want him.

Letting go of your hand he rubs your legs,the warmth of his palms spreading all over your lower parts, bringing his hands to the back of your knees. Pushing your legs towards your chest, the wind is suddenly knocked out of you. His ravenous gaze focusing solely on your slick covered pussy. Silently he collects a glob of spit in his mouth and lets it fall over your cunt. The warmth of it surprises you. Feeling so dirty you start whining calling out to him. But all Suguru does is shush you. Letting one of your legs go he spreads your folds apart with his free hand, feeling your warmth and skin under his fingers, your most sensitive parts and you’re letting him. Trusting him this much. It almost makes Suguru sentimental.

Dragging two fingers inside your quivering sex your boyfriend starts slowly, just to pull those tiny gasps and small moans from you. He wanted to draw this out but your hips seem to have a mind of their own. Grounding your sopping cunt against his fingers. He’s shocked at how much you’re enjoying this. His hand has stilled, you’re doing all the work now, his pants feel tighter and tighter with each passing second. He can’t help the loud groan that escapes his lips, immediately removing his fingers from inside you, stealing your high, that was so close. A few more seconds and you would have jumped off to the waves of pleasure. But you can’t process it for more than a few seconds. Getos lips have replaced his hands. Sucking, licking and slurping your cunt like it’s his last meal. You feel his wet hand grabbing on to your thigh, it’s almost painful. Blunt nails digging into your soft flesh. But the pleasure he’s making you feel is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. You feel the incoming waves of pleasure getting nearer, that band inside you getting tighter at the verge of snapping. What pushes you over the edge is Getos desperate “please cum baby, please cum, need you to.”

That whiny tone in his voice makes your eyes roll to the back of your head.

So desperate, just wanting your pleasure is all it takes to have you finally seeing stars. Like a taut band finally snapping, your back arches off the mattress, almost screaming with immeasurable pleasure. Writhing from the force of your orgasm.

Gasping for air you bring your hands to cover your eyes. A little embarrassed about everything that occurred. It was the first time Geto and you were intimate in any way. Your heart is still beating loudly, when you hear Suguru chuckling

Caging you under his body, he pecks both of your hands “are you okay?”

All you offer back is a nod.

“Come on baby, use your words so I know you’re okay. And please look at me.”

Taking a deep breath you finally look at him. Both of you smile. Burying one of your hands in his hair while the other one is wrapped around his shoulders you bring him closer to you. Wanting to kiss him and he gives it to you. Resting his body weight on you, he ruts his hips against yours. His boxers are covered in precum and your arousal. The heat between you two is almost suffocating, an all consuming need to be closer with one another. Rain outside pelts against the windows, but inside yours and Geto’s little bubble all that is heard is the sound of your lips smacking against one anothers. Small moans littered here and there.

Biting his bottom lip he groans, enjoying the small pain mixed with that vice grip you have of his hair. Making his way down to your neck he litters it with hot, opened mouthed kisses.

”You look so pretty under me, I wanna know how you look on top now. Can we make that happen princess? Can we, please? You’re just so pretty and sweet.” he speaks slowly and low near your ear in a raspy tone. Low moan escaping his mouth at his own words, hand raking down your body. Mapping and memorizing every bump and curve his hands roam over.

“You're taking these off tho” he says, leaving a quick peck below your earlobe. A second of confusion washed over you before you processed what he’s doing. Making himself comfortable spreading his legs on either side of you, trapping you under him. Palming his erection “go on baby, help me out” gesturing to his black briefs.

Big doe eyes looking back at him, the heat radiating off of his body unto yours is almost suffocating.The remnants of your prior orgasm still thruming through your body. You want–no, you need more of it, of him. Suguru can easily become addicting to anyone near him. The sound of his sweet but commanding voice, his presence, his words can make even the most defiant person pliable to his whims. His lips curl at your almost timid face.

Chuckling to himself – “Okay, I’ll do it baby, don’t worry.”

But the moment he reaches to his sides, you stop him. Bashfully stating you’re going to do it. Raising his eyebrow he just raises his hands in an almost surrendering way. You loop your fingers on his waist band. Taking in a small shuddering breath you pull them down, finally freeing his confined cock. You don't know what comes over you, witnessing his thick cock hit his stomach just snaps something in you. With one hand you grab his cock and with the other you push his hip. Hoping he gets the signal; and of course he did. He’s not dumb.

“It’s fine baby we can do that another time” he voices almost hesitantly. There’s no doubt he wants to fuck your mouth. But he’s desperate to be inside you, he just wanted to tease you a bit more before. He’s thrilled that you initiated this though. The raven haired man has spent countless nights fisting his cock to the thought of your lips wrapped around his girth. However he still wanted to let you know you didn’t have to do it. He wasn’t so sure how much he could hold back. It was really up to you.

“Please”

Perversely saccharine is the tone presented in the simple word you spoke. On-brand for Suguru since he met you, he gives in without much of a fight.

“Just let me know if I get carried away, pretty girl.” he tells you while leaning one hand against the bed's headboard. Getting comfortable, getting his cock closer to your mouth.

“Yeah” you say meekly.

Suguru hisses at the warm feeling of your tongue. Fighting his urges to just sink all of his inches down your throat. Pushing those thoughts to the back of his head; he focuses on the kitten licks you’re giving him. Not wanting to push you too quickly or make you uncomfortable, he lets you set the pace.

You, with your shining eyes, looking up at him, you let your curious mouth start trailing kisses against his flushed warm tip. Pre-cum covering his length. –Suguru is surprised with how much is coming out. That’s how riled up you get him. Nervously but sure of what you desire. Opening your mouth, wrapping your soft lips around his tip, you gently suckle. Throwing his head back you take it as a sign to take a little more into your mouth. Cautiously Geto moves forward, resting his hand more firmly on the headboard so you can access more of him. You appreciate it, that way you don't have to keep raising your head as much. Bobbing your head up and down to the best of your abilities he’s losing the last of his restraints. The slurping sounds are obscene, the feeling of your nails digging against his thighs are maddening. Wanting more he unknowingly starts moving his hips forward, the sound of you suddenly gagging brings him back.

Bucking his hips back —“ Fuck , fuck , I’m sorry baby”

You just smile up at him, small tears at the corner of your eyes, he hears your hoarse voice say “it’s okay.” Before you get the opportunity to continue your previous ministrations, he moves between your legs.

“I think she’s ready now, hm? Don’t you think so, pretty girl?” he questions you in a syrupy sweet voice, while he drags two fingers between your folds and inserts them gently. “Look at how easy they go in.”

“S-suguru, stop teasing and put it in already.” you say in a whiny voice. And who was he to deny you any longer. Removing his fingers, he makes it a show how wet you are by flashing the webbing of your essence between his fingers as he makes a V shape. Coating his cock in your essence, while looking directly at you. Even with the embarrassment flooding your entire body you do not break eye contact with him. There's no hiding from his sharp eyes.

Crawling up your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake. He assures you he’s going to be gentle. Slowly Geto starts inching his cock in you. Giving you time to adjust to his size. Placing a soft kiss on your forehead he whispers words of encouragement. His shoulders are shaking as he fights his desperation to move like an animal against you. No matter how desperate he is for you, he’s not about to hurt you or make it uncomfortable.

Once he’s fully inside he lets out a choked sound. Enveloped in your warmth now it takes all of his strength not to fuck you into the mattress. Closing his eyes he tries to level his breathing, what brings him back is the feeling of your hands on the sides of his face. Your touch feather light against his warm skin. Looking down at you he smiles before he gently starts rocking his hips against yours. His jet black hair is everywhere around you both as he looms over you. Suguru wants this to be memorable for the both of you. The bed creaks under the both of you, giving an edge to the room and rain going on outside. The mess of tangled limbs and desperate moans reaching every corner of the room. Lost in these new sensations your bodies are going through together you don’t even remember ending up on top of him. But he’s not about to start complaining.

“That’s it sweetheart, keep bouncing on my cock” he says with one hand resting comfortably behind his head.

Your thighs felt on fire, movement going slower than before. “Tired” you say hiding your face in the crook of his neck, hips coming to a stop. You sound sweeter than honey, and he can’t help but want to baby you and take care of all your needs and wants. But not without a bit of teasing first, it’s just in his nature.

“Aw my baby is tired” Suguru spoke in his always soft, caring, voice. Kissing the side of your head he instructs you to sit up again. When you start whining that you’re tired he gives your ass a hard spank. “I told you to sit up, not to do anything else, now did I? You gotta listen better.”

You feel his hands come down rubbing your back, squeezing your hips, signaling you to sit up. Once you do as he instructed you feel his hold on you tighten even more. A bruising strength behind his large hands, you know his fingertips will leave indents marked behind on your soft skin. His strength always throws you off, it’s always there, but you sometimes forget just how strong Suguru is. He plants his feet flat and firm on the bed, and starts thrusting up into you. His ironclad hold on you moving you up and down just how he wanted. He’s using you as his own personal fleshtoy. And you can’t bring yourself to care. Too lost in the overpowering sensation. Your moans mixing with the sound of the wild thunder and rain just outside. He wants to keep his noises down to a minimum, just wanting to drown in everything that has to do with you. Your sounds, the way you’re making him feel, how warm you are, the wild look in your face — he gets glimpses of when lightning strikes outside.

Your bodies move in sync against one another, as if your bodies already know each other. Suguru recognizes that he’s at the tipping point of his orgasm, and from how hard you’re gripping him, you're right there with him.

Head feeling light with the impending feeling of your orgasm, planting your hands harshly on his chest, nails digging into his skin leaving a pink trail in their wake.

“That’s it baby, mark me.” your boyfriend utters between sharp inhales as you let your hips rise and fall on his cock. The sweet feeling of being stretched and full is inescapable. Your words seem to be stuck in your throat as you start rolling your hips. That previous ache and burning sensation you felt earlier is gone. Rutting desperately against one another he throws his head back against the mess of pillows, groaning while your screams get higher and higher in pitch.

The intensity of your shared orgasm has you both clinging to one another, hips involuntary moving. No words are spoken for a few minutes, the only sound enveloping the room is your ragged breath calming down with the rain outside. Running his hand up your back, he tangles his long fingers in your hair, angling your face towards his to kiss you. The kiss is messy, teeth clashing, biting one another in an almost animalistic way.

Once the mess of body fluids feels like too much on your skin, you break the kiss. He chases after more in an almost desperate way; and you have to tell him you want to take a shower. Carrying you to the bathroom, he tells you to give the shower a second so the hot water kicks in. Taking a quick glance over his body you see the evidence of your previous activities over his body. Your nails left scratched, his hair has knots and he’s covered in sweat.

“You really like what you see, pretty girl. Can’t stop looking can you? Don’t worry I’m not going anywhere.” He teases, while walking up to you, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers with his. Bringing your hand up to his mouth he leaves a kiss and tugs you gently with him to the shower.

Suguru’s hands feel amazing against your skin as he helps you shower. His caresses are gentle and meaningful; no ulterior motive. Just utter devotion as a thank you for finally trusting him enough to give your body to him. Washing your hair he asks if he’s using an okay amount of pressure, if he’s going too fast or too slow for you. At your assuring words that he’s doing “amazing” you let yourself be pampered. Returning the same care and gesture you wash him and his hair too. The little bubble of warmth feels like a dream, one you don’t want to wake up from.

You would have never thought a great night would change for the worse in the span of an hour. From a dream to a nightmare, Suguru’s possessive behavior making an entrance like never before. Now that he had you mind, body and soul he couldn't just let you go. A short conversation with him letting you know who he doesn’t want around you anymore has sirens blasting in your mind. As he kept going on about how people look at you, how they want you, how you could get hurt if he’s not there because you are “so defenseless”, you grew uncomfortable. Voicing him your worries and how you’ll be fine and how your friends could be trusted didn’t sit right with him. Your anger got the best of you, starting a shouting match with him, you tell him to take you back home. How you don’t want to deal with “whatever this is” right now you see something in him snap. His tender loving gaze was replaced by something you can’t quite explain. Suguru’s eyes seem devoid of all the light and warmth you are so used to.

“Suguru, if you don’t take me home, I’ll walk back.” You try to threaten, but the shakiness in your voice gives you away. You're not sure where you are, you don���t have the first clue as to how to get back. He knows this, that’s why he raises his not breaking eye contact and laughs.

“Since I love you so much, I’ll give you a head start. Run baby, start running. Let’s see how far you can get.” the ever confident male says, taunting you.

It’s cute to him. The way your eyes fill with tears, opened wide. Suguru Geto will catch you. He knows these woods like the back of his hand. Wearing his once charming smile he starts counting.

“One,two,three — Ya know… I’m being polite. ” he says, wearing a diabolical smile.

That’s where it started clicking to your frozen —by fear— body. He’s serious. Run away, get as far away from him as possible.

Panic sets in looking everywhere, you’re in a place you haven’t been before, you really don’t know where you are. Just wearing a thin nightgown you start running, without a clear direction in mind. Screaming for help, but no one would hear you. You two were alone.

The ground beneath your feet is wet and cold. Rocks digging themselves under you, but with adrenaline pumping through your veins, you don’t feel how they’re cutting your soles. Tree branches scratching your exposed arms, you don’t register the cuts and bruises starting to adorn your body. Your lungs feel like they are on fire. Feeling like a fish out of water with how quick your breathes are, your heart beats harder each passing second. A sense like it's going to come out of your chest at any moment. You have to keep pushing yourself, there has to be help somewhere. Someone has to be near enough to hear your pleading.

“Keep running” is what you keep commanding yourself to do.You aren’t sure how long you’ve been running for anymore. Your body feels flushed, your head dizzy, affecting your eyesight.

Thunder lighting the skies above you with the earth rumbling with the immense sounds of thunder. Realization suddenly hits you, how deep have you wandered into the woods? There hasn't been one animal seen, the storm could have them hiding. But not seeing even a deer or running rabbit frightened you. What other types of dangers are hiding here. Isn’t the lack of animals a sign of even bigger danger?

You should’ve taken this as a sign of what a big threat he was. —Suguru Geto had an aura around him that could send anyone or anything away.— The stillness of it all while the storm grew its strength, added more fear to your already trembling body. Wanting to buy yourself some time to think you hide behind the biggest tree you see. Sizing it up quickly you disregard the idea of climbing it. There’s no tree branch low enough for you to grab and aid your way up with. You’re not about to hug it with how wide it is and risk a potential fall. Broken bones, a storm, and Suguru looking for you? No.

Suguru…

His face suddenly rushes to the forefront of your mind. Was there something you overlooked? Did he ever give off any warning signs of who he really was?

Did he even keep his word and let you have a head start? Is he still waiting at the edge of the woods?

Or is he silently watching you from a distance?

Your ears start to ring, shivering, you feel your head start to spin, tasting bile at the back of your throat. Taking quick and shallow breaths.

You’re hyperventilating .

Straightening your back against the tree bark you feel its rough texture digging itself into your skin. Nightgown getting caught in it. Trying to regulate your breathing, you search in your head any reasoning for what is happening. It’s a nightmare . It has got to be a nightmare. As you dig your fingers deep into your scalp, tugging at your roots the stinging sensation only serves as a reminder that this is real .

Spiraling thinking about every interaction you’ve had with Geto since the first time you saw him, he pursued you, he went out of his way to be your friend, then your boyfriend. Everybody adored him. How did it turn into this? There had always been something weird surrounding him. But nothing that would have let you believe you’d be going through this shit . He was a tad too overprotective. Yet not enough to raise red flags or have any alarms going off around you.

This wasn’t fair.

Not really surprising, but Suguru had gone after you, after waiting a few minutes. He did stand true to his word, giving you enough time to create a distance between you two before he started his chase.

But you need this moment to think about your next move.

Something snapped and that grabbed your attention, frantically looking around you don’t see any sign of him.

But the moment you go to move, you feel something press behind you. Dark eyes meeting with your wide ones “wrong move” he says, wrapping his big arms around you. Holding you against his chest. “Look at you now, you got all dirty and hurt. See what I meant when I said I need to keep you safe?” You try kicking and scratching him, but it doesn’t seem to faze him. His sheer strength and the realization that he can hurt you if he desires is soul crushing.

“Let me carry you back” he whispers against your ear “don’t try anything else. I don’t want you getting into more trouble.”

All you can bring yourself to muster up is a nod. The raw feeling of your throat is preventing you from screaming more. Feeling his lips against your hair you recoil, but Suguru doesn’t say a thing. Carrying you bridal style back to the cabin. You’re not sure of what’s going on inside his head right now, what’s his thought process or plans. He just seems content to have you in his arms.

You’ll need to think of something to escape.

Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work!

Do not repost or translate my words.

Divider by anitalenia