#he just keeps it locked up behind a lot of walls very few bother to work around

[marc--chilton]

my new hc is that house is stupid when it comes to love, he just doesn't get to show it as often as wilson does (he, too, is stupid with.... well. yknow. three wives, affairs. maybe it's the illusion of stability that comes with marriage that makes wilson jump to it so often... weird guy. but we're not talking about him rn)

like stacy was moved in to his place a week after they met. ignoring what that says about her, this is HOUSE. pre-infarction, sure, but still house. he himself said he would have married crandall because they were young and he had a car! he mocks the idea of marriage! (this is probably just a jokey throwaway line but Listen)

i believe that if house didn't hide behind all these mechanisms he's developed to keep people away, to weed out the "weak" ones who can't handle him, his crudeness, his disability, his neediness, he would have had his heart broken so, so many times

[chimerahyperfix]

CW: Graphic depictions of violence, lots of Death and Gore, Psychological horror for like 3 lines, mentions of drowning. Please read the tags and take caution. This one's more than a little visceral.

-----

The King is here.

You walk through crowded halls of rushing Housemaidens getting into defensive positioning. It's like fighting a wave in the ocean, hard to push through the crowd. You make do anyways, curling through paths you normally wouldn't take.

It's a big deal to everyone but you, at this point. This is the big event, the big fight; to you it's simply where time loops back. Just another day, y'know? You've done it over and over, and you'll probably keep doing it anyways.

It's odd, pushing through the crowd. Everyone is going one way and you are going another. Rushing versus strolling. Your hands are in the pockets of your lab coat. You're practically whistling, for crab's sake!

You simply cannot be bothered this loop. It's a failure from the start: you crabbed up making the bomb, which means you're crabbed from the very beginning. You climbed up the Favor Tree and wedged yourself between the braches for a few hours to pass the time, because looping back would be too much of an inconvenience, and you could just wait until the tears started spawning in the house to go back. The birds had a good time at least, one starting to craft a nest next to you.

You ghosted throughout the day, and now its go time. Everyone else is prepared and ready to fight for time itself, and here you are just. Walking. Realistically you're searching for a tear to stop it all before it starts, but luck isn't on your side this loop.

You can hear it, hear it-- the horrors. All the screams of those unfortunate enough to cross the King's path and fight back. It would be easier, for them, to just bow back and let themselves be frozen-- but no one wants to be frozen, because that's having choice itself stolen from you, a cage of ice to lock yourself in forever. It's just as bad as being dead. Stagnant and eternally screaming.

So they march to their deaths.

The King does not take kindly to the Housemaidens fighting back. Some loops, the House isn't prepared for his attack. Those loops are the nice ones, the less gorey ones. Less dead and more frozen bodies, because no one was prepared to brawl with the monster. He can just... swoop on through and take the House without more than a handful of casualties. This loop is one of the bad ones, because your fellow housemaidens were all prepared. You always think your prepared, too, to see the outcome, but you never truly are.

You turn into the main hall, and freeze still.

No matter how many loops you go through, the carnage always gets to you. There's a nasty, overpowering smell of iron in the air and big dark stains painting the walls, the floors and the roof. Bits and pieces of mashed guts and viscera. There were people in this hallway, once.

Not anymore.

It makes you sick to your stomach like every other time. Just the thought of it. There were people here and now there's only parts of them left. Just ten minutes ago or so, there were people here.

There were people here.

The gore goes in a trail down the hall. Paints practically everything-- including frozen people, if you look down the hall. All frozen with shock and absolute horror on their faces. You recognize some of them.

You try not to think about it.

You push on. Try to ignore the way the blood seeps into your shoes very fabric so they become damp. Try to ignore the fact you're trailing someone's very life behind you now with bloody shoe prints.

There are still no tears.

Plan B, then. The King himself.

You hate going against the King. It always ends terribly with you in agony. But that's the only option left right now, so you chase him down on his little path carved from the blood of the innocent. You find him quickly, too- just down the hall.

He stops before you can get too close. The smell in the air is overpowering, the sharp tang of blood and the burning sensation of the sugar.

"Burning one." He says to you. You're not sure where he pulled that one from: the nickname was something different at some point, but you've long forgotten what it was. Maybe it's the smell of burnt, rotting sugar or maybe it's the potions that burnt your throat. You're not sure anymore.

He just... stands there. Turns around and looks at you. You can feel the dead expression you're pulling as you stare back. Blood glints on his armor, shining and the worst sight in the world and all the same kinda beautiful in its own way? Like the lightless gore is the night sky itself, sparkling with little dots. Makes you feel sick just thinking that.

"How have you done it?" He asks. He asks it every time the two of you face off, the same five words. How. A inquiry. Something you have done, you shouldn't have, and he knows it.

You... think you've gotten it, now. Your hypothesis: How you wished. It's not something you were supposed to do. You did something different something WRONG, and it did something to time itself, tearing a hole in the fabric of space. It's wrong. It's wrong, and you know it and so does the King.

He stares in your direction. You think? Despite his hands, blood-stained as they are, not being infront of his face, the mop of hair is still in the way. You can feel the glare still. Enraged. Daggers in your side.

"I don't know." It's the truth.

"You don't know?"

"I don't remember."

The King goes silent. It's odd, having an actual conversation with him. Even if it was a tiny exchange, it still throws you off. He's willing to talk, even if just a question. He's never really talked to you-- or anyone, to your knowledge-- before.

"Ouuuuhhhh... of course you don't." He wails. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to you. "You shouldn't have been able too, oohhh... not at all..."

He raises a fist up. It sparkles like the night sky, dark dripping from between his fingers. There's still someone's remains painted on them. Preemptively you brace and throw your arms up in an attempt to block.

It's a different thing that hits you. A new attack. A giant open palm slams into your chest, and you go flying backwards into the wall. The world turns to slow motion as something in you SNAPS. Crunches. Your bones shatter and explode with the force and speed, shooting little shards of agony everywhere.

It hurts. It HURTS. Pain rips through your entire body, and you realise you've started to scream when your chest begins to hurt. Blood splatters onto your glasses, blotting out your vision.

You look up at the King. How'd you get on the floor? How are you breathing, with no lungs? You can see fragments of bone stuck between the metal of his armor.

"Let this be a lesson to you, Burning one."

Metal clinks, and your vision swims-- dots in the corners, figures blur. Blood drips down into your left eye and paints half of your vision a dark shade. Nothing but pain.

Make it stop. Make it stop, make it stop make it stop-- it hurts, it hurts it hurts it hurts.

You

Simply stop thinking. Just for a moment.

So your brain can catch up! Yeah, sure. That's a good enough excuse.

Just. Pain. You are pain incarnate, and that's all you will be until you die slowly and loop back.

You

Blink,, and

The King. Is gone. You can hear him leaving, loud stomping footsteps dissapearing down a bloodstained trail, and you just stare.

How lucky, HOW LUCKY of you to be left alive this time. Like this isn't a fate worse than death. You gasp for air, and realise all you have left is blood filling your lungs.

It hurts. You want it to end, now. It's hard to see, over the blood and spots dancing across your eyes, but you see them; tears, floating around you. A quick out. You reach out, and the pain in you flares alive, ripping and tearing you apart. You feel like your flesh is going to peel off.

Your fingers brush into one of the tears, and you sob as the ice rolls down your arm and consumes you. It feels a hundred times better than what you were feeling before.

You freeze in time-- and luckily theres no nightmare you have to endure, you just wake back up at your desk. You spend a good chunk of the morning curled up in the bathroom getting sick, because, wow! That's the worst one yet! It's curled into your very being, the feeling of breaking your bones like rock candy, the feeling of drowning in blood.

You just... have to do it better this time, or... something. Hope is fading away into background static. You can't... do this anymore. It hurts too much. You want it to stop. Please make it stop.

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

I stumbled upon Fuegoleon slander today, so can I request comforting fluff with Fuelara, please?

We don't tolerate Fue slander in this house! So YES

I took my time, but this was very overly self-indulgent to write, and I just might make it be the most of a chapter of The Vows We Made once I get there. Anyways! I hope you enjoy! ^^

Pairing: Fuegoleon x Solara Fanfic type: Oneshot Genre: Fluff/romance Length: ~3.1k Contains: sleepy Fue, mentions of their twins, mentions of Salamander, maybe some possessive themes if you squint??? (The idea of "my family, I need to protect it", does that count??), just pure fluff, they're in love, and go to sleep There is a mention of "Ms. Rose", who is Briar Rose belonging to @/koneko-pi !

The long, quiet corridors of the castle that lead into an office, among a lot of things, which were lined by large windows that faced the courtyard. One could almost see the trees and the bushes, flowerbeds planted in there, but from this height, one would have needed to walk closer to the sheets of glass. And thus, it was only the faint light of the moon that could be seen coming from the outside. Just the sight of the dark blue autumn skies; the sunset had gone already.

Even the servants had gone home, or the bed, for the most parts already. Only the guards outside of the castle walls were awake to keep an eye; even though keeping an eye open was difficult both outside and inside of the castle walls.

Solara could swear that he steps must’ve wobbled ever so slightly as she made her way down the halls, lit by the light of the moon that cast shadows at her feet. The shadows she barely saw as she struggled to keep her eyes open from the state of fatigue she was feeling. The weight of it that she felt had increased exponentially over the last few years.

It’s only age, she told herself, though she was barely past 30, not yet closing in on 40, even if that decade in her life loomed somewhere in the horizon. Not that the number bothered her. It was more so just that she could feel herself getting tired more easily.

She couldn’t keep up with the kids, who wanted to stay up all night long. Or so they said, and still dozed off at 9 the latest. Which was good. They needed their rest.

It was only that the twins had been restless during the last couple of days. The last of the baby teeth would be coming out, which was the cause of the poorly slept nights lately. This night included.

But now they were finally asleep; in their rooms, safely tucked in with Salamander by their side. Or, Sal’s basket by them to be more precise.

The Great Spirit of Fire had assumed a smaller form while living in the castle, and preferred to sleep in his small little wicker basket nestled in a blanket. But the basket needed to be in the common room that joined the bedroom of the twins, so that it could be equally close to both of them.

Solara had reasoned to herself that it was partially a wish of Sal, and partially Fue’s wish amplified in the dragonic spirit. The wish to keep safe. To protect. Make sure that his family was being looked after. The sentiment of ‘my family’.

And it would allow Fue to stay up to date via Salamander, though their communication was what it was. Limited to kinds of hunches. Feelings. That was still the idea how Solara understood it. That it was a non-verbal connection, which didn’t allow for that complicated discussion as with some other spirits might. It was just the nature of Salamander. He was a non-verbal creature, and his methods of communication were limited.

But she didn’t mind. She didn’t think any of them minded. It was just how it was.

A way in which father could be with the family, while working; he could keep an eye on the kids, while having to perform his duty. Even if from behind a desk. And there was no reason to lock the kids, or the family, into a sitting room next to his office.

No... life was out there. It was in the blades of grass, in sunshine, the glimmering of stars, in the frost bites and sweet drinks and the smile of those you hold dear. Life was never meant to be confined within the walls of an office decorate with motifs of grandeur.

The things he says... she mused to herself with a slight shake of her head. And still he very much confines himself into that office... her eyes fell in a slow blink, as her gaze and attention were directed somewhere far, far away, but her steps knew the way nonetheless. It was inscribed into her bones by now; she didn’t need to think about it. All for the sake of the people, he says... she smiled to herself, even if the smile bore a veil of melancholy over it. While trying to make it into every little event, to be there during bed time, read to Leon and Cyra, even though he’ll need to go back to complete something more... always something more...

Her chin lifted as she thought about it. All those moments when he had emerged from the office, with eyes that seemed to bear the weight of the world. But as the kids would go running to him, the weight would subside, he’d pick them up, and tell them how much he missed them.

He doesn’t-, I know that he wouldn’t need to come to us while he’s still working. To take a break to do that. And most wouldn’t. They’d just... complete whatever is on their desk and come home when it’s time for it. And I know... I know that he tries *so hard*. To be everywhere. To come home for a while, chat to the kids, maybe play with them for a while during the busy work days, and then it’s “off to bed, I’ll read a story to you”, she smiled at the thought. The precious moments during the hardest days.

Because during the good days, those that he had off, as much as he can have them off, he’d spend more time with Cyra and Leon. Give them as much attention as he could. Be as good of a father as he could.

But... she couldn’t claim that it wouldn’t be hard for the two of them. Because between work and the kids, there was very little time for the two of them. Which... it just made things a bit difficult. Not that they could claim there to be a real problem, but sometimes they would have liked to just spend time with each other. Cuddle and kiss and... perform spousal activities... maybe sleep a little longer... all the things for which there didn’t seem to be time or energy.

All the things... well... maybe after some time... The first 2 years are the most difficult, or so they say. And then it’ll ease up on sleep at least.

She sighed to herself as she reached the door. The large wooden door which was decorated with some carvings and a golden handle. To signify that it wasn’t just any door. Or at least that it wasn’t a cleaning closet out of all the things. Not that she could imagine anyone mistaking it for one in the first place. Not in this part of the castle.

Her hand landed onto the cold metal surface, without a knock. After all these years, there was no knock.

She wasn’t sure how many times he had had to tell her that she was among the few people, who wouldn’t need to knock when it came to him. That she’d always be welcomed, no matter what.

And how many times had it taken that she hadn’t believed? That she had still knocked. Maybe not waited for a reply, but had still knocked.

During day time she still would.

A silly little thing. She deemed it with a smile.

Just a small thing that amused her. Perhaps amused him too. A kind of a game for them to play. As foolish as it might have sounded. Him having to tell her with a smirk that the door was open, and how it’d always be open for her. And how she’d argue back with a grin of her own, telling him that she couldn’t know what he was in the middle of. That it was courteous. A little game of cat and mouse. Or maybe just two cats play fighting.

Perhaps the latter would be more fitting.

Perhaps that was why when she opened the door, there was no sound. Quiet as a cat.

But when her eyes were granted an image of the room from behind the wooden surface of the door, she stopped.

Just stood there with her hand on the door handle, and looked at her husband. Sleeping over the desk. A single candle lighting the room on his desk.

His mana hand wasn’t manifested, but his left arm was under his head. His chest was rising and falling, and there was the sound of steady, heavy breathing flowing through the air. It wasn’t quite a snore, nor did it sound forced. Just a very... intent way of breathing. Maybe due to the position he was in.

A hum broke through the steady sound. It vibrated through the air, speaking of how it must’ve risen from his throat, as a faint frown appeared on his brows.

But it disappeared just as quickly as it had appeared.

A small smile tugged up the corners of Solara’s lips as she looked at him. Poor thing... he must be exhausted...  

She took a few steps forward, closer to the table, with feather light steps, careful not to wake him.

Bed would be more comfortable... and if he stays in that position he’ll have a sore neck tomorrow. He’s bound to, even though his exercise routine keeps him in good shape and his muscles open. For the most part at least, she chuckled under her breath. But... since he is tired enough to have fallen asleep there, maybe I shouldn’t wake him up... at least for a while... Let him rest for some time and then... then wake him...

Her eyes turned to the door of the sitting room that was next to the office. There’d be a closet where there were blankets and a few extra pillows. Which might have been unconventional for a sitting room, but... they had deemed it better to have them, in case of such situations. An afternoon nap.

Perhaps there lied a danger too. Because since they had blankets and pillows close by, a nap would be more tempting.

A terrible danger, really.

Another amusing thought.

She looked at her husband, still sleeping over the desk with a neutral expression.

Stay there, she thought, joked to herself, before making her way to the sitting room and to the closet from where she found a blanket. A part of her was thankful that they oiled all the hinges of the doors so well, and made sure that no floorboards were creaking.

Yes, of course, it made sense to make sure that it all was in the best condition, but... sometimes such little things could me missed. Especially if you’re only moving around during daytime, when small sounds such as those didn’t seem quite so apparent. While during night time, they were as if amplified. Which was why she was mindful to close the closet, and the door, as silently as possible, before tip-toeing to him.

Don’t nap for too long, she thought while opening the blanket in her hands. You’ll get a sore neck if you do...

She placed the blanket over him, around his shoulders with as little movement as possible, and leaned over him.

But as soon as she did, his eyes begun cracking open and a groggy hum left him.

“Mm... What time is it?” He asked, while trying to gather his senses. His tone was quiet, nearly distant, like he was trying to grab onto reality while still being partially asleep.

“Almost two..” she whispered back before leaning closer and pressing a tender kiss onto his temple. One that was warm and comforting; that held a promise of a soft, warm bed where he might rest with a smile on his face. And the knowledge that he wasn’t alone in the world. That he had someone with whom he could share his smiles and his sorrows just the same.

“Mmm...” he hummed again before taking a deep breath and leaning back in his seat. “Maybe I should call it a night...”

“Maybe,” she half teased, half smiled before placing another kiss on top of his head.

“Did the kids fall asleep?” He asked as he pushed back his chair and stood up, making a dragging sound, wood scraping against would, break through the otherwise silent room.

“After a while,” she replied with a hushed tone, almost as if she was still trying to be careful not to wake him. “I have the monitor with me, just in case too.”

“The monitor?” He frowned while looking at her. “Oh yes, yes,” he continued before pinching the bridge of his nose. “The device Ms. Rose of the Research Department gave us...”

“Yes,” she gave a small nod, during which her eyelids fell in a slow blink. “She is a good friend.”

He hummed in agreement while pushing his chair under the desk.

His expression was neutral, as if there were no thoughts running through it. Which was probably true from his state of fatigue.

“Ready for bed?” She suggested, half asked, while reaching for his hand.

“Yes,” he uttered, while taking her hand into his, and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll take a quick shower first.”

She gave him a nod, while taking a step back to lead him towards the door.

“I’ll keep the bed warm meanwhile,” she assured him while squeezing his hand.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” he smiled to himself as his steps followed hers, easy and natural, like the flow of a river.

Like this was the only course he should take. As if this, squeezing her hand and following her to rest, was just like drawing breath.

As if the way back to their room was no journey at all, despite the winding, twisting and turning corridors of the castle where one could get lost in. Plenty of people did. And even him, admittedly, sometimes needed to think what might be the quickest route from one place to another. Still, after all these years of living there, he still needed to think from time to time.

But these steps, over which the silvery moonlight cascaded; the way it reflected from her hair, and embraced her form, as if she was some divine being brought to him in sleep rather than a mortal just like him... It felt like no time passed, as he followed her.

Time didn’t exist.

It was just the two of them.

It was just him, trusting that she’d lead him to the sanctity of their bedroom, where it was soft, warm and safe.

As if he wouldn’t have known the way.

But perhaps he would have stumbled in his drowsy state.

Perhaps, perhaps not. None could tell. For it was left in the sea of possibilities.

The sea that wasn’t important; that lost all meaning as they reached their room, as if in a dream.

The door was closed behind them, and he stopped, but didn’t let go of her hand as she tried to continue further into the room. But the stop created a tug, and the tug made her turn around with raised brows and hum out a question. A simple: “Hm?”

It was only then that he took a step closer, as if to step into her embrace, and pressed a kiss onto her forehead.

“Go to sleep, my love,” he whispered against her skin, letting the words glide over her like a river of warmth and tender affection. Like something so soft and gentle he couldn’t name, even if given a millenium to describe it. “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” he promised.

He always promised, and he always kept that promise.

“I can’t promise to stay awake for ten minutes,” she partly teased, partly joked, but mostly she told the truth.

“I’m not expecting it,” he hummed with an amused smile while pressing his head against hers. “You should sleep, if you’re tired,” he told her. “I’ll find my way to you.”

She smiled to him with closed eyes, not making a move to make her way to the bed.

“I always will,” he promised again. Yet another promised he intended to keep. Another promise he had always intended to keep. One that felt like it was a promise that he had made so many times before that he couldn’t count.

But would he need to? Count them? He didn’t deem it necessary.

“Go on, my love, I’ll be there soon,” he nudged her head with his, before slipping into the bathroom. And she slipped into bed in the meantime.

The covers were soft. A bit cold, but they’d warm soon enough.

She rolled onto her side, towards his pillow, and resisted the urge to pull the pillow closer so that she might bury her nose into it and breathe in his scent. Just like she resisted the urge to shift onto his side of the bed. Just like she resisted the urge to gather his side of the covers into her arms, so that she might feel him close to herself again.

All the things she resisted. And yet she could feel her consciousness slipping away.

Little by little, she was drifting into a sea of dreams.

But then again, she hadn’t promised to wait for him to get to bed. She trusted that he’d some soon.

Within ten minutes.

Even if those minutes felt like an eternity.

Or maybe one fifth of it.

A fraction.

The bed shifted next to her.

She tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids felt heavy. Too heavy to open fully, but still her hand reached closer.

There was another kiss on her temple.

“Thank you for warming up the bed,” he whispered. But she could hear him loud and clear; his voice vibrated to her through her heartstrings, or perhaps the golden threads of fate that had spun into ropes. “I loved you,” he whispered again.

She smiled, must’ve smiled. Her hand took a hold if his. Fingers intwined together with his into a secure hold.

“[I love you],” he professed again, sounding a little more drowsy than a moment before.

“[And I love you,]” she replied with a hushed tone. “With all the days I have left,” she continued, not sure if he was still on the brink of the twilight zone, or already within a dream. “And even beyond it...”

She wasn’t sure if he’d hear, but she was sure that he knew. He knew, but still she needed to tell.

She’d always need to tell him. To remind him.

That she loved him too.

She’d always need to tell...

And through the darkness, her drowsy state, she could feel him squeeze her hand back.

[mrs-luigi-vargas]

Um. Hi. So I was reading @theangelofangst's newest work and it gave me Blorbo Thoughts. Unfortunately my blorbo is Kamek, so uhh…yeah.

Anyway, I wrote a thing based on it! Sorry if the lore/timeline (or the cipher) is wrong; I started writing this after Chapter 3 came out and then Chapter 4 came out as I entered the editing phase, lmao.

Also if you haven't read Speechless Symphony yet, you really really should! It's a delight of a story and the ending is very good :D

~~~

Sivsocavoup & Sitvusevoup

[AO3 Link]

Sitting in a cage in a pitiful excuse for a dungeon really gives you a lot of time to think.

A lot of time for your mind to wander, bored with staring at golden bars, white walls, the glint of metal spears meant to poke you if you’re out of line, the closed door denying you freedom. Nothing to stop thoughts and memories from surfacing, and of course those thoughts and memories can't do you the decency of being any semblance of pleasant.

No, the memories that float beneath your eyelids and repeat ad nauseam are those having to do with how you had ended up here to begin with. That plan, that infiltration, that confrontation. That oh-so-satisfying spray of blood, those delectable cries of fear. That green human’s face flipping to pure rage at a speed that could have put even King Bowser to shame.

That lucky throw.

That throw that shouldn't have been of any note, as the object flung through the air had been just a small stone. But it hadn’t been until the flames King Bowser had been gathering abruptly died out and he'd begun clawing at his own throat that you’d realized something was wrong. But you had barely been able to raise your wand to do anything about the way his face had twisted in pain before the green one struck, with a blow to the head that cast your world dark.

And then you had woken up here.

You spend the first hours after reorienting yourself fuming about the indignity of it all. Swearing vengeance for being treated like this, cursing those blasted humans who had landed you here, vowing to break out with King Bowser and —

The panic that had been blooming in your King’s eyes flashes in your mind, then. If you were an optimist, then you would next hope that whatever had been wrong with him had somehow resolved itself, and that he was waiting somewhere in the wings with a grand plan to break you, his esteemed second-in-command, out of this dreadful place. But you know exactly what had been wrong with King Bowser, and you haven't gotten this far in life with anything as worthless as optimism.

So you flick your wrist when the guards aren't looking, pulling up that monitoring charm you’d attached to your King back when he’d been a trouble-making prince, one you’d never bothered to remove as he’d aged. It stares back at you, fuzzy and buzzing with static as if it had never been anchored to him at all. You allow yourself one tremulous breath, paired with a single overlong blink. You’re behind enemy lines, after all.

...

...He’d been a great king.

For the next few days, you comfort yourself with the fact that the Mushroom Kingdom’s hero, at least, had been injured enough that he likely hadn’t survived that encounter, either. But even that solace is denied to you, as you overhear the guards standing near your cage chatter about Mario. About Mario’s recovery —

You struggle to keep your magic under control. They'd taken your wand away when they’d locked you up, in the assumption you were powerless without it; there’s no need for them to have evidence to the contrary. Still, you seethe over the meager, tasteless prison food they’d given you. You should have known the lack of funeral bells was a sign something wasn't right. Not only does that green hero get to walk away a murderer, he gets to have his brother with him, safe and sound. A duo of goody-two-shoes, prancing about as if they hadn't destabilized an entire kingdom in one fell swoop. As if they hadn't —

Again, you wrestle your magic down. It still simmers beneath your skin, eager for an outlet. And you're eager to give it one, one that ended in those brothers suffering a thousand times the amount King Bowser had, as he’d burned from the inside out. Yes, they would rue the day they crawled out of whatever wretched hole they’d surfaced from, so long as you still lived.

---

For a while, you entertain more...outlandish forms of revenge. A curse to cause unending nightmares as it puts them to sleep for good; an “accident” that leaves them both blind and deaf and crippled for life; the red hero held down, helpless to watch as you break every one of his brother’s bones one by one by one.

But those ideas, while satisfying, still aren't enough. You haven’t gotten this far in life without a reliable and fine-tuned cruel streak, and in that fine-tuning you’ve learned cruelty is a dish best served cold. So you let those short-sighted scenarios pass you by, sorting through the chaff for the perfect one.

You also know cruelty is a dish best made to the servee’s tastes, and for that, you need intel. You haven't needed a wand to cast simple spells since you’d learned to walk, so it’s trivial to attach little eavesdropping charms to the food trays and cutlery those fungal peons bring to you at mealtimes. Emphasis on little, because while you have been doing magic longer than any of these imbeciles had been alive, you know the Princess, at least, isn't as much of an idiot as the rest of them regarding magical matters, and you haven't gotten this far in life without a healthy dose of caution.

So you do what you do best — you listen, and you learn. Those brothers visit the castle often, and thus you find the red one hadn't actually escaped King Bowser’s final attack unscathed; apparently, his voice box is forfeit. The world forever spared of that idiot’s worthless blathering...for the first time since waking up imprisoned, a ghost of a smile curls up on your face. Even in death, your King’s vicious nature still prevails. You’d taught him well.

And, in a lucky break, you manage to eavesdrop on your King’s murderer well enough to catch the guilt in his voice when talking about the state of his brother. You take a risk and upgrade the charm to give you visuals, and you see with your own eyes the self-condemnation lining his shoulders. The sight is enough for the second grin of your prison stay. But it isn’t enough to satisfy you completely; you need it to hurt more. Nonetheless, you could still use this; the only reason King Bowser’s blow had landed — besides his unrivaled combat prowess — was because his initial target had been too busy cowering in fear to see the strike coming.

Without access to your spellbooks, it takes a while for the perfect idea to manifest. But that’s fine; you haven’t gotten this far in life without a wealth of patience. You mentally flip through them, one by one, for the perfect spell to make those humans pay, as you bide your time for an opportunity to escape.

And the perfect inspiration comes months later; after months of awful prison food and taunting from the guards and absolutely no privacy, you sit next to the light of the moon, thinking about your late King. Not in a moment of weakness, as someone soft-hearted would assume, but of the power vacuum he’d left in his wake. To be filled by whatever schmuck made a big enough power play, by the circumstances. You frown imagining it, a headache half-budding in your temples. If you were a lesser man, this would be when you would wish to do anything to have King Bowser back to take his rightful place once again. But you are greater, so you merely cast that thought aside; when you return to the Darklands you’ll find some poor saps to use as fodder for whatever revival ritual you’ll perform to get King Bowser back to his glorious, living self.

But...you do know someone lesser. Many people, in fact. One person in particular, however, would be perfect to cast in a certain role. And there’s another who would be an excellent fit for the tragic hero of this upcoming tale. And you won't even have to hatch another escape plan to direct it!

Originally, the spell you’re thinking of was something to cast on oneself in a saccharine moment of self-sacrifice for a loved one, but you know better. So you spend the next week or so keeping to yourself, those pathetic excuses for guards long since bored of you, recalling the exact shape of the incantation you need, building your magic reserves as much as you can to cast the spell itself the way you want to, knowing your slight magical atrophy and the lack of magical focus would make things marginally difficult. Or rather, it would have made things marginally difficult, if you weren't the greatest wizard alive.

As such, soon enough, with the moon sitting high yet hidden in the night sky and almost a year to the day since King Bowser was killed, you deem yourself ready.

In the darkness, you kneel on the metal floor of your cage. With a deep breath, you close your eyes and focus your attention inward. You think of your King, that look on his face, the last look you had seen on him while he was still alive. The look he probably died wearing. Surprised. Agonized. Frightened.

The vowels and consonants of your native language fall from your lips easily; low, whispered, with the barest of shaking as you concentrate. You feel the spell reach out to you, wanting you to pay your price. You feel it reach out beyond you, toward the Darklands, wanting to restore what was lost in exchange.

But you aren't a lesser man, so you don't give it the chance. You gather your magic and push it away, away out of the room, towards the magical signature you want it to latch on to instead. While the act of doing so is simple, it still costs a fair bit of energy, and without your wand you’re left panting from the effort of avoiding becoming ensnared by the spell yourself. You’d chosen it for a reason, a reason that was rather deadly. It wouldn't do to fail now.

The moon sits high in the sky and the rest of the world is asleep, so you shift to a better sitting position and lean back against the bars of your cage. You feel the traces of magic stretch out toward where you sent the spell, winding down pathways and weaving between buildings, to a little house in a town, to a certain murderer’s sleeping form. They’ll figure out what you’ve done sooner rather than later, you know. And with the spell you’ve cast banned in every country and scrubbed from every text published in the last century, they will have to come to you to learn how to break it. Not that you’ll tell them, of course.

So now, all there’s left to do is wait. Wait for them to come with their distress and their anger and their paltry threats. Wait for their tears, their denial, their attempts to bargain with you. And as the only one with answers, you’ll be free to give the ones that would only send them further into despair.

As your magical exhaustion ushers you to sleep, a cold smile dances on your face. You haven't gotten this far in life without patience and cruelty, after all. And it looks like both are about to pay off.

You can hardly wait for it.

[cloudbattrolls]

Public Works

Kasolm Varzim | Present Night

Kasolm yawned as they rubbed conditioner into their curly hair; didn’t want it drying out, especially now that it was definitely the light season. Heat drifted through the city like the clouds up above, settling in like the fluffy plant seeds that blew around, gathering on the streets and sidewalks.

They looked in their ablution trap’s mirror, nodded in satisfaction, and rinsed their hands off before wiping them on a soft hand towel that had a pattern of statues on it.

Then they walked out of it, stretching, and paused to take a look at their cat, who opened one green eye to regard them as they passed her resting place on one of their wall-mounted shelves. 

“Bella, you bum.” They said affectionately. “Why do I keep you? You do nothing but shed.”

The fluffy white animal did not dignify her owner’s response with one of her own, and simply closed the eye again as her plume-like tail twitched slightly.

“That’s what I thought.” They said, shaking their head in mock chastisement. “You can’t even be bothered to give me an excuse. Who taught you rhetoric, eh? Os jovens são preguiçosos.”

The whispers sounded in their ears as usual while they walked to their front door, but equally as usual, Kas couldn’t make them out, and the amethyst necklace kept the worst of it at bay. It was practically imprinted into their dark gray skin with how much they wore it.

They smiled as they opened their door and locked it behind them, though they noted it could probably use a new coat of paint in a few perigees: the current blue was flaking off a bit. It had been a while since they’d last called for carpenter droids.

They yawned again, walking off down the sidewalk. Not one of their livelier nights, but enough energy to keep their appointment. Just so long as no one bombarded them with too many questions, it would all be ducky.

The park wasn’t too far; they’d have taken a bus otherwise. They preferred not to, though: they stuck out like a fine painting in a public bathroom, being a purple cusp on public transport. Their size didn’t help either; squeezing into a crowded area when they were wide and tall had gotten them dirty looks at least a double-dozen times.

It didn’t bother them much, but it wasn’t as if the highblood enjoyed such resentment either.

Especially now. 

They were growing accustomed to keeping their powers at a low ebb - feeling only passing sparks of growth, feeling, thoughts - but it wasn’t perfect. Getting too overwhelmed or exhausted put them at risk of being a magnet for all that, and nosing into others wasn’t their thing to begin with.

Or causing some other loucura like the living painting incident to happen. No, thanks; they could do without all that.

Kasolm smiled when they reached the park, relaxing as they came closer to the trees and the laughter and screams of the playing pupas and the occasional lusus. Just a little further to go.

“Mx. Varzim!” Called one of the waiting trolls - a young oliveblood. “Everything’s ready.”

They looked over the canvas and paints that had been set up for them, as well as the bucket of water, and nodded approvingly.

“Bom trabalho, you lot.” They said with a smile. “Nice, very nice. Let’s hope the kids don’t think it’s boring, ay?”

The olive looked a little worried, and the two lowbloods with him who’d helped set up - a yellow and a maroon - shrugged.

“That’s up to you, ain’t it?” Said the maroon, blunt if not unfriendly.

“Sure is, mano.” They agreed breezily. “All right - hora de começar. Stand back and make sure no wayward caretakers or nothing gets close to the canvas, please.”

“Yes, boss.” Said the yellowblood with a sarcastic salute that Kas chuckled at. The olive looked at them in worry and annoyance; he needn’t have bothered. The other two had worked with them before, unlike him. They knew Kas to be as mellow as a sleepy lizard.

They walked over and took out their big paintbrushes from their sylladex, the kind for wide sweeping brushstrokes. Tonight, with its warm air and smell of blooming trees and flowers, wasn’t a night for subtle work. 

Not as the wrigglers of various ages and castes filed in, some with curious expressions, others looking more skeptical or even slightly hostile, a few regulars whispering in excitement. Some sat in the provided plastic chairs; a few of the midbloods and a lowblood or two took out their own.

A few pigeons and gulls flew around the group, and Kas hoped they didn’t steal the grasped packets of snacks in anyone’s hands or decide to relieve themselves on their heads. They also hoped no one’s lusus decided to snap at one; that had happened before and it had been a mess to sort out, even if no one had gotten seriously hurt.

“All right, crianças!” They called in their loudest voice, and the talking mostly died down. “What color should I start with?”

“Blue!”

“Red!”

“No - gray!”

“Purple!”

“Piss yellow!”

Kas nodded at all the suggestions, even the last one from a kid who looked incredibly smug about what he’d just said.

“Ah, sorry, mano, my favorite yellow is the kind when your eyes are all gummy with sleep and you wanna be back in recupe and not at schoolfeeding.” They said with mock sorrow as they shook their head, and several of the kids laughed and crowed in agreement.

Even the one who’d spoken gave them a grudging hint of a smile.

They dipped their brush into it - turmeric and arrowroot powder, all natural pigments like ybe other colors - and began making bold, quick strokes across the canvas with little care for how or where they fit together.

“That doesn’t look like anything!” Called one kid, and Kas nodded in agreement.

“Not yet!” They called back. “Which color now?”

“Brown!” Yelled the boy from before. 

“Nice try.” Chuckled the purpleblood.

“Green? Blue!” Came the call from a few kids.

“Green it is.” Agreed Kas, and used a different brush to splatter the drops - crocus and indigo material mixed together - all over their existing strokes.

They added red, then black, then stopped for a moment. The canvas was now mostly covered in completely random strokes and splatters of paint; the whole thing looked like one of the abstract exhibits from their museum.

“Here comes the fun part.” The cusp said. “Now watch closely, and feel free to use your hands, ‘cause I don’t want anyone saying this is just illusion psi or voodoos. I got none of that. All I got…”

They dunked their paintbrushes in water, and put them aside, before reaching out a hand to touch the canvas.

The ingredients in the paints - parts of things that had once lived and grown - grew again, springing from the canvas and carefully weaving and blooming together into a cohesive piece of art, taking form into a cityscape full of light and color - all formed from carefully colored petals, leaves, and stems.

Music drifted from the canvas as well, the distant sound of dayclubs and street buskers. 

The sound of light season life.

“…is this.” Finished Kasolm with a proud smile as they took their hand away.

The kids broke into excited and disbelieving chatter, running up to touch the plants that burst into existence before their gray-hued eyes.

Kas stepped back, happy to let them pull on and even take parts of their work if they wanted. This wasn’t the museum; their park art was for the wrigglers, meant to be touched and played with. The flowers would die in a few nights anyway; they were just regular plants, despite how they’d been created.

They noticed the olive, too, was staring wide-eyed.

“I - I don’t understand.” He said. “Are you a psiionic?”

“Eh, close enough.” Kas said with a shrug.

“But you’re a highblood!”

“Don’t let it bother you, mano, I don’t. And I gotta live with it.” They said with a flippant tone and a shrug.

He looked…slightly afraid.

Kas softened a bit.

“I’m just an artist.” They assured him. “Don’t wanna be anything else, ay? Too stressful. Look at the kids, do they seem worried?”

Several of the children were throwing flowers at each other or feeding them to herbivorous lusii.

“No…” He said, his trailing off voice making it clear he didn’t put a lot of stock in that. Even though they doubted he was more than seven, at most.

“Are you worried about Kasolm?” Snorted Iolett, the maroon. “Don’t bother. I never met a more relaxed indigo. You think I’d work for some raging lunatic?”

“You would if they paid you good.” Shot back the yellowblood, Dakkry, and Iolett flipped him off as she went to clean up the canvas and paints, the former of which had been stripped mostly bare.

Kas laughed softly and yawned again. Reaching their limit, but hey, all worth it.

“Thanks, all.” They said with a wave to their helpers, the pair of lowbloods nodding back before returning to their bickering.

They didn’t bother worrying about the olive. Either he’d be a problem, or he wouldn’t.

They were just happy they’d found a way to use their powers without harm, a way that brought others joy and let wrigglers know for a moment that there was wonder in the world.

That made it all worth it.

[hellenicdreaming]

Lestat De Lioncourt, a 200 year old vampire wakes one night to the sound of a heartbeat, beating so loudly and only to him.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

Chapter One

Thump Thump! Thump Thump! Thump Thump!

It was driving him mad, every night from when he woke at night to the morning when he slept, nothing but that sound. He was both fascinated and annoyed about it, that little heart calling to him like a spell. He could tell by how it was beating that the little heart was fighting every second, rebelling against the natural order to give in. It fascinated him how such a mortal could keep going like that. How it was him who heard its cries. He had asked the others about it, but they all denied its existence. Lestat was sure it was real, either that or he was going mad.

It was one fateful night, fresh from a kill that Lestat stumbled upon a house. Secluded from the rest of the street, tucked away in a world of its own. The front garden overgrown, windows bordered up or smashed in, it looks older than Lestat. Though years had not been kind to it. The vines of nature claiming it, but Lestat knew there was life in there. He heard that oh so familiar heart beat that was so strong. He made a feline leap over the rusty gate, landing gracefully in the front yard. He fully intended to know what that sound was.

He could sense others of his kind, three he thought. Rather young ones, no more than ten years into the vampire life. They were in the upper part of the house. The heart beat he could hear didn't belong to any of them, it was located a lot lower down in the very bottom of the house.

He followed it like a spell, needing to find out what it was. What it was that had bothered him so much for many nights. He decided to look around the house first, seeing if there was a clear entrance in that wouldn't alert the occupants of the household. He had moved to the back, finding it a safe route then the front, there he found the back door locked and very intacted. He managed to unlock it with his mind and enter into the building.

Lestat had no real clue where anything was in the house and was purely running on the heartbeat to guide him. He was led into the hallway, a little small square space just before a giant kitchen, the whole building inside smelt of decay, he was sure someone had died here recently or maybe a few given the intensity of the smell. To the left of him was a door, he could hear the powerful thumps of the heart.

He, too, had to unlock it to get inside. The door creaked open as the hinges protested. He was met with a darker room one mortal eyes couldn't see in, but him, having vampire powers, could see just fine. He started his descent down the old wooden stairs, each creaking under his weight. He made it to the bottom in seconds, a big open area before him and the smell of decay even stronger.

He scanned the room quickly, disgusted with what greeted him, in the room filled in every corner were bodies of the young. Stacked up on each other like garbage. He could see them with their eyes wide open and their necks torn to pieces, each holding the same lasting expression of terror. The vampire that did this was fussy, each person mirroring each other, same build, same hair, same eyes. All girls around 15 to 20. It eerily reminded Lestat of his begins as a vampire. He stepped over bodies to dive in further, still following that oh so powerful heart that beat the loudest he'd ever heard it.

He saw a room at the back of the larger one. The door was shut, but he was convinced that the mortal with the powerful heart was behind it. He unlocked this one too and slowly pushed the door open. He was met with a dim lit room the bulb in which the poor light was coming from was barely working and flickered every now and then. The room felt cold, even to Lestat. He scanned around the small box like room finally landing his blue eyes on a figure huddled in the corner. She was curled up against the wall, her whole figure trembling as she attempted to push herself further to the wall. Lestat took a slow step towards her, not wanting to scare her too much. He could hear the fear through her mind and didn't want to add to her torment.

Her neck too had been torn at, but multiple times. She had refused to die to her attacker, and by the looks of it, the vampire had returned for more. She whimpered a delicate noise to Lestat ears as he stood in front of her, he bent down as to not appear so intimidating. The heart beating faster in her chest as a silent cry that it was ready to battle again.

The girl looked exhausted though even the little act of moving towards the wall had worn her out and she rested her head on the wall trying to preserve her energy a little.

“ I won't hurt you" Lestat stated to her calmly. She made no attempt to response in words, just tighten her hold on her legs a little bit and pushed her head close to the wall.

“ I heard your heart, Cherie, I came to save you.” He stated again, hoping she would believe his sincerity.

She raised her head a little, and he was met with these very intense blue eyes, a little too big for her face. Her face an oval shape, very pale with little freckles adorning her cheeks and nose. Her lips were full though dry and cracking, her thick mousy brown hair fell in front of her face, a thick wild mound with a mind of its own stuck out from every direction.

Lestat could see her beauty even in the filth that it was caked in. Her eyes were weary, filled with tears and bloodshot from lack of sleep. Lestat could see she was battling to believe him. Her small, petite frame shocked from either the cold of this small room or fear.

He waited patiently for the girl to make the next move, and that she did. Very delicately she reached her small hand out towards him and the rattle of chain connected to her shackles filled the room. He stayed still curious about what the girl would do. She rested her hand on his chest, pushed very little, but he barely felt it.

“Real?” She muttered, barely audible but Lestat heard it with his sensitive vampire ears.

“Yes Cherie very real. I'm here to save you.” He stated to her again.

“Do you want that Cherie. Would you like to come with me out of this place?” He asked, trying to prompt a response from the girl to get her out of this place. He was listening intently to the occupants upstairs to make sure they weren't coming anywhere near down here. Even though Lestat could take them with all his strength, he just wanted to get the girl out calmly and quickly.

The girl nodded after thinking a lot. This gave Lestat the permission he needed to do. He reached for her wrist gripping at the shackles on either side and pulled, breaking the shackle from her wrist. He then scanned over her other limbs to make sure that she had no more attached to her. Her wrist looked sore, lestat was sure the girl had been here a while.

“Im going to pick you up, Cherie.” He warned her as he moved closer, scooping her up, careful not to hold her too tightly for he could break her so easily.

She curled up into his chest. Her head buried in the side of his neck.

[shitpostsfromtheinvisiblelibrary]

‘Welcome to Corvid house,’ Vale said, stepping out of the doorway and ushering Irene and Kai inside. ‘You will have to forgive how dark it is, it has always been like this, a trick of the architecture I believe.’

It was gloomy inside, even if it wasn't for the trick of the architecture, as Vale called it, there were heavy curtains drawn across all of the windows, the floors were dark wood and the wallpaper was dark too.

‘Thank you for coming,’ He sighed and slumped his shoulders. ‘Plenty of things for me to be doing and yet nothing that can keep my attention for more than a moment or two.’

Irene set her small case down as the door was shut behind them. ‘What do you need our help with?’ She asked, looking around, not that there was much that she could see in the gloom. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘Or did you just miss our company?’ Kai’s smile was cheeky and toothy and he managed to draw something of a smile from Vale in return. ‘Wait. Really?’

‘I have been putting off my responsibilities here for too long and there is a lot of work that I need to be doing, however,’ He spoke with a pained slowness that made it obvious that he did not want to be confessing this. ‘Doing it without anyone as company when I do take a break is particularly unpleasant. I hope that I am not taking you both from anything important?’

‘You’re here alone?’ Kai said. ‘Your siblings and mother?’

‘Columbine has her work, I do not care to keep up with whatever Aquila is currently up to and my mother simply cannot stand to be in the same house as me for longer than an hour,’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t take it personally any more.’

‘Well,’ Irene said. ‘We will unpack and then we are going for a short walk, you look pale and definitely need some fresh air,’ His something of a smile was back, a little brighter this time. She stepped forward to kiss his cheek. ‘And you are going to have to show me the family Library, assuming that there is one?’

There was, in fact, Vale’s bedroom was the one closest to it.

‘We don’t all have to share,’ Vale said. ‘There is plenty of space for the three of us in here but you can have your own space.’

‘It is cosy,’ Kai said. ‘Perfect,’ He put pulled his jacket off and draped it over the edge of the bed. ‘Unless you would rather we take another room.’

‘No,’ He touched Irene’s arm as she pulled back heavy curtains to peer out and see what kind of view Vale had. Another reason for the dark, the curtains were made out of a thick heavy silk brocade, some ten years out of date in terms of interior decorating, smothering any sound of light that could make it inside.

‘I’ll show you the gardens,’ He said. ‘I don’t think anyone has bothered with the curtains for years, I don’t think choking on the dust would be a good way to spend the day.’

It was a surprisingly sunny day for early spring but it was still cold enough that they all wrapped themselves up again to step outside. There was a path leading down the centre of the garden lined with cherry blossom trees, the flowers wouldn't last long but the few weeks that they were there would fill the garden with the scent and turn the grass pink with shed petals.

He led them over a rough stone path. The house was on top of a hill and a decent way away from any actual city, town or village. By horse and carriage, it was a two-hour long, very uncomfortable ride from Leeds Aeroport.

They leant over a stone wall and looked out across the Yorkshire Dales, the wind whistled around them and rustled through the trees and grass. Kai turned away, sneezing several times as they breathed in the smell of flowers and grass, proving too much for his sensitive nose.

Vale had to be up early the next day, taking a pot of strong coffee and a plate of toast, at Kai’s insistence, into the study and locking the door. Irene and Kai shared a look before rolling their sleeves up and pinning back their hair.

‘The curtains?’ She asked as Kai started to look through the storerooms just off the kitchen.

‘There should have been servants stopping it from ever getting to this state,’ He muttered.

‘You know Vale,’ Irene said. ‘He probably forgot that he would have to come back here, or assumed he could just keep putting the work off.’

‘Either way. He has been here for two weeks, breathing in all of that dust, it can’t be good for him. Now, can you tackle the Library without getting distracted or do you want to take on the bedroom?’

Irene almost pouted. ‘The bedroom,’ She said finally. They’d left her to her own devices in the library the night before, Kai and Vale retreating for a game of cards, splitting most of a bottle of brandy that Vale had retrieved from a dusty wine cellar, bringing Irene up a glass to sip on as she perused the books.

She had found many books that she was itching to get back to and was never one for resisting temptation.

‘You are going to want to wrap a handkerchief around your mouth,’ Irene said, pulling out her own handkerchief. ‘So you don’t choke. Should we be doing this with your allergies?’

‘It isn't like we can go and hire a couple of people to deal with it for us,’ Kai shrugged. ‘I will be fine.

By the time it was noon (Irene was unhappy that Kai had suggested that they all get up and have breakfast together) Irene was aching and covered in more dust than she thought could have been held in curtains. She was pulling fluff clumps of dust out of her hair and flicking it away as Vale came in, blotting ink off his cuff.

‘What… are you doing?’ He asked, stopping in the doorway.

‘Cleaning,’ Irene said, she had succeeded in beating the dust off both of the curtains and pulling them open to bring bright sunlight into the room. ‘When was the last time you had someone in here?’

‘I don’t think I have ever arranged for someone to clean.’

‘Your mother?’ He shrugged.

‘I believe she just arranged for her own space to be cleaned as well as the areas that she uses, the dining room, sitting room and drawing room seem fine, and I haven't checked her bedroom’ He brushed some dust off her hair and smoothed some errant strands behind her ear.

‘You didn’t have to do this,’ She pulled the handkerchief around her mouth down to her neck.

‘Kai has pointed out that breathing in all of the dust is bad for your health,’ She said. ‘He’s been working on the library, we are doing the study next, whether you like it or not.’

‘Why?’ He spread his hands and Irene could see that he’d probably spilt the ink bottle onto his hand.

‘Because,’ Kai said, Irene hadn’t heard him approach but Vale clearly had as he hadn't jumped, merely turned to regard him and step into the room and out of the way of the door. ‘We want to do something to help you.’

‘Kai wanted to help you, I wanted to read,’ Irene said. ‘Luckily, he is very persuasive,’ Kai put a hand on Vale’s back and brushed a kiss to his temple.

‘We couldn’t leave you to deal with it for however long you are stuck out here,’ Kai said. ‘Besides, we spend a day or two cleaning what we can and then the rest of our time here distracting you from your work with various elaborate methods.’

‘You will both be found with your noses in books and no knowledge of what year it is.’

‘That too,’ Kai smiled. ‘Are you taking a break?’

‘I just needed to change my shirt,’ Vale said, raising his hand so that Kai could see the damage. ‘I have had a casualty during budgeting. I should have asked Columbine to look at it, she is much better with that kind of stuff than I am. It is boring.’

He stripped off his jacket and shirt, Irene and Kai sitting on the edge of the bed, or at least, Irene was sitting, Kai flopped backwards with a sigh. He stretched out and yawned.

‘The country air really just takes it out of you,’ He said. Irene reached down and began playing with his hair, idly curling strands of pure ebony around her fingers before pulling them free and winding them back in again. Kai’s eyes half shut and the corners of his lips curled into a smile.

He very nearly started purring as he tilted his head back to press his head into Irene’s hand like a particularly needy cat, not that he would say that connection out loud, but Vale probably would have done.

‘It is a lot easier on you than the London air,’ Vale admitted as he tossed his shirt into the laundry hamper and started to pull on a new one. Both Irene and Kai turned to watch him, rewarded with a brief glimpse of taut muscle seamed with scar tissue much in the same way that they were.

Irene pushed herself off the bed and took Vale’s wrist in hand to do his cufflinks for him, stroking her fingers across his skin before doing them up.

It wasn't common that Vale’s smiles were pure, genuine happiness, but when it did happen, Irene swore it was one of the best things that she had seen.

‘Thank you for coming here,’ He said, not meeting her eyes. ‘I needed the company,’ Irene touched his cheek, like Kai, he tilted his head to press into her touch. ‘Love…’ His voice was low and soft.

He was so tired.

‘You should get some rest,’ Irene said. ‘If Kai is tired as well, I’ll go and make some lunch for us all.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You are a terrible liar,’ She dropped her hand. ‘Just a quick rest, for me.’

‘Emotional manipulation? Really, Winters?’ She pushed him towards the bed.

‘Really.’

Irene's hands were black with soot as she cleaned out the grate in the sitting room, it looked like it hadn't been cleaned out after it was last used. She cleaned off her hands as best as she could on a rag that was streaked with ash.

The good weather had taken a turn and Vale was certain that the thick grey clouds were going to bring heavy rain and a few days of it at least. Kai was happy with that news and was currently out in the gardens, breathing in the smell of petrichor.

She and Vale were less than keen on the heavy weather as it would keep them inside.

She added newspaper to the bottom of the fireplace, there was a stack of it already put to one side for this use, before going outside to collect wood from the small shed at the side of the building, making several trips to retrieve enough so that if the weather was nastier than anticipated, no one would be having to run out and hope that the wood doesn’t get too wet.

She didn’t light the fire, she just lay it ready for later on when they would want the warmth.

The front door opened and, wiping her hands on her dress, Irene peered around the kitchen door and into the dark hallway, expecting to see Kai shaking the rain out of his hair and kicking off muddy boots but was instead met with the sight of a woman a few inches shorter than her with steel grey hair and a thick fur coat of some years old.

The woman’s eyes were sharp and cold though she supposed that they could be the same hazel as Vale’s if perhaps they contained any warmth, there was no doubting who this woman was.

‘What are you doing in my home?’ She demanded in a voice cold as those eyes, sharp and with obvious disdain as Irene somewhat reluctantly stepped into full view.

‘I am here upon the invitation of your son,’ Irene said. ‘Assuming that you are who I think you are Lady Vale?’ Vale had never given a first name for his mother, nor much in the way of description. They had never asked.

‘A likely story,’ She sniffed. ‘And where is my son?’

‘He is working, ma’am,’ Irene said. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ She wasn't sure if Vale would be very happy about her inviting his mother into the house but she didn’t want her storming off and interrupting Vale.

She sniffed and after a long and hard look at Irene, she headed upstairs.

‘Really, ma’am, he doesn’t want to be distracted,’ Irene said, following her up. ‘He’ll be wanting a break soon anyway, I’m sure we won't have to wait for long,’ Lady Vale continued to ignore Irene and threw the study door open before Irene could stop her.

Vale shot up out of his deckchair, an uncomfortable thing of brown leather and dark wood.

‘Mother what are you-’ He swallowed. ‘How may I help you today?’

‘You’ve taken to keeping your mistress here?’ She gestured to Irene. ‘Well, I suppose that I should be proud that you finally found a woman who wants to stay around.’

‘Excuse me?’ Irene snapped.

‘Mother, if you are not going to be polite to my friend then I think that you should leave,’ Irene wasn't sure which hurt more, being assumed to be a mistress, or being just Vale’s friend. She knew why he said that, their relationship would be heavily scrutinised if people knew. But still.

‘Well, you have a woman kept in the house with just the two of you,’ She sneered at Irene. ‘What should I expect?’

‘She is visiting me with her husband,’ Vale said. ‘I believe he has stepped out for a walk, Mrs Strongrock?’

‘He left about half an hour ago,’ Irene said. ‘He shouldn’t be much longer.’

He turned back to his mother. ‘I advise you to keep a civil tongue about my guests in my house, especially if you want to keep access to it.’

‘Well,’ She sniffed. ‘I see I failed to raise you with proper respect for your own family.’

‘I do respect my family,’ Vale said. ‘My family, the ones that I chose. Now, if you will excuse me, I have some work to be getting on with. Stay away from my friends whilst you are here. And shut the door on your way out.’

She slammed the door, making both Irene and Vale wince.

‘Are you alright?’

‘Shouldn't I be asking you that?’ Irene perched on the edge of the desk and took his hands in hers, squeezing lightly. ‘I did try to get her to stay downstairs.’

‘I didn’t think she would come here knowing that I was-’ He smiled and smeared away ash from her cheek.

‘She probably assumed that I was the help,’ Irene said. ‘I think I would rather that than a mistress.’

‘I am sorry about that,’ He sighed. ‘And saying that you were just a friend, you are much more than that. So much more.’

‘I know,’ Irene said. ‘She can’t know what is really going on, if she would even understand it, I’ll try and move mine and Kai’s things into one of the other bedrooms.’

‘Hopefully, she will go away soon,’ He said. ‘When she figures out that she isn't going to get the results that she wants.’

‘I will go and find Kai and let him know that we are married now,’ Irene smiled. ‘Not how I saw myself getting married but here we are,’ He shook his head before kissing her on the temple and pushing her off the edge of the desk.

Vale lay in bed staring up at the ceiling unable to sleep. The bed was too big and empty, he hadn't enjoyed sleeping without Irene and Kai before they had arrived. It was torture knowing that they were probably sleeping easily in the next room.

The work wasn’t taking as long as he thought it would, it was fairly easy once he managed to focus on it, the focussing was the hardest part and took the longest. It didn’t take much energy to get through and now he was still wide awake.

He couldn’t even go out and get some fresh air as the rain had well and truly started and he wasn't stupid enough to try and withstand the squall that had started whilst Kai had cooked them dinner.

He was left to either lay in bed or get up and wander the house and with his mother around, option one was the far more preferable option. The rain outside lashed against the windows, shaking the glass in their wooden frames and loudly rattling them.

Kai found it a comfort and when they were together, the nasty parts, the soaking wet clothes, the chill, etc., were all well worth it just to see how happy it made him when soaked through. He’d watched Kai run out into a storm before dragging him out into it as well, they had shared a kiss hidden amongst the heavy branches of an oak tree that sheltered them from prying eyes but let enough rain through the leaves to still shower down on them.

With Irene, the rain was perfect for working inside in quiet companionship, side by side with their own things, fleeting touches and the brush of her hand on his as they reached for the same piece of paper, shared cups of tea as they watched rain run down the windows, comfortable and warm inside, the sounds of the rain warring with that of the roaring fire.

He got out of bed and put on slippers and wrapped his red dressing robe around himself, he wasn't going to be getting any sleep and there was no point in laying there trying to sleep when he had work he could be getting on with instead.

He could smell dust left from Irene and Kai’s cleaning as he let himself into the study, they had kicked him out whilst they had tackled it together to cut down on how long it would take, emerging two hours later, both tired and covered in dust and the study curtains wide open to reveal the garden.

If the work was interesting maybe he would find it easier to concentrate, as it was highly dull, he sat there staring at it for a few minutes before sighing and finally putting pen to paper.

His eyes were burning as the sky began to paint the sky pink, the storm clouds blown away by the wind, for now. Kai knocked and let himself in, he locked the door behind himself before giving Vale a cup of coffee.

‘Have you been up all night?’ He asked.

‘I slept,’ Vale said. ‘Thank you,’ He reached for the coffee but Kai slid it out of reach.

‘Don’t lie to me,’ Kai said. ‘How long did you sleep for?’

‘I didn’t count the hours.’

‘Peregrine,’ Vale winced.

‘I think it was more than an hour?’ Kai slid the coffee back towards him. ‘Was that necessary?’

‘Apparently, yes,’ He said. ‘What can I do to help?’

‘If you are thinking of killing my mother, don’t.’

‘I wasn't planning on it,’ Kai smiled. ‘Irene on the other hand… I will let her know not to,’ Vale didn’t wait for his coffee to grow cold when he started to drink it. ‘I will bring up something for you to eat as well, Irene is in the library and we haven't actually seen your mother this morning, she could have left early.’

Vale shook his head. ‘No, she came here for a reason and she wouldn't have come just to mildly irritate me, she probably wants something.’

‘What?’

‘I know a good many things and what I do not know I know how to find out, except for one thing. The way that woman’s mind works,’ Kai chuckled. ‘Women have always been hard for me to understand and she is the hardest.’

‘We will try to keep her away from you.’

‘Leave her to do as she please,’ Vale said. ‘I can tolerate her behaviour, I don’t want to risk her saying something to either of you two that could cause offence.’

Vale locked the door to the sitting room that Irene and Kai occupied, a tray of tea and cake between them, as well as a stack of books that they were making quick work of. He leant against it heavily.

He was entirely silent as they marked their places in their respective books, he crossed the room, shaking off his jacket and discarding it onto the back of one of the armchairs before collapsing into the space between them.

It was with an unspoken agreement that Irene drew the curtains and Kai folded a blanket around Vale before holding him close.

Days without something to test his brain were always hard. His mind wanted to wander and it was easier to let it go, even if it brought back hard to deal with thoughts and urges.

There were few benefits for living in the middle of nowhere, no one to purchase morphine off for starters.

Irene sat down again before neatly draping herself comfortably over Vale’s lap, resting her head on his thigh, a comforting weight, familiar and much needed. His hand found a place in her hair automatically.

Kai’s arm was around his shoulder and Vale rested his cheek on him.

‘Get some sleep,’ Kai murmured. ‘It’s okay.’

His mother had never tried to understand the way that he was nor had she ever accepted the fact that his inclinations did not match up with what most people expected of him. There was no desire to produce an heir nor find a wife, he had never found the interest in taking a mistress or many.

She had interrupted his work several times already reminding him that he had indeed yet to take a wife and that locking himself away in the countryside with another man’s wife, regardless of whether or not her husband was there, was improper behaviour and people would make their own assumptions.

He had ignored it all of course, it wasn't like he hadn't heard it all before, he had been hearing it all from the age that he became aware that girls were indeed a thing that he was supposed to take interest in.

It hadn't mattered to him then, why would it? There were more interesting things to see and do than find someone to settle down with, he’d first thought that maybe he would find an interest after university, and then after a few years of his work, and then it was just a matter of meeting the right woman.

But there was no right time, no right woman.

And he was entirely happy with that.

His mother had other ideas though and had suggested a long list of eligible women. He had started distancing himself from everyone but his sister long before graduating. He found comfort in the letter his mother had sent him, the last letter in fact.

She was giving up on him.

He felt Kai’s lips touch his temple.

He didn’t need anyone’s approval.

He had what he wanted.

What he needed.

Who he needed.

He woke up stiff from sleeping sat up, but Kai was still holding him and Irene was still laying over his legs, they were talking in low voices. The room was dark when he slowly opened his eyes, the fire was the only light and the warm glow turned Irene golden, Kai too as he turned his head to him.

‘Sleep well?’ Kai smiled. Vale yawned.

‘Better than I did last night,’ He nodded. ‘Thank you,’ Irene sat up with some reluctance so that he could get up and stretch, his back clicking in a few places.

‘Dinner?’ Kai suggested. ‘I’ll cook.’

Lady Vale cleared her throat and Irene and Kai turned to her before they could stop themselves, Vale ignored her and continued to eat. She coughed again.

‘I have some cough syrup in with my luggage if you need some,’ He said, he still did not look at her as he reached for his wine glass. ‘Though perhaps a glass of whiskey will do the trick, you obviously know where to find that.’

‘I honestly thought I had raised you to have more respect for your own mother,’ She sighed dramatically. ‘But apparently, I have failed, I, instead, am ignored whilst you wine and dine another man’s wife in front of him.’

Irene put her fork down.

‘Don’t,’ Vale said but she ignored him as she turned to Lady Vale.

‘Madam, you may make one of two assumptions, that your son has decided to pursue a relationship with another man’s wife, or that he has no issue with being pursued by a married woman. Which would you rather?’ Irene smiled brightly as she got out of her seat and stood in front of Lady Vale.

‘I don’t mind what you think of me,’ She continued. ‘I have never really bothered myself with the opinions of those who judge without any true knowledge in their heads.’

‘Irene,’ Vale almost whined.

‘No,’ He brushed her off. ‘I have had the honour of meeting two of your children and honestly, they must have got their intelligence from your husband because you certainly seem to be vane and entirely obsessed with what other people may be saying about you.’

‘Regardless of how little you think of me, it means that you would have utterly failed in raising your son and I think that says far more about me.’

‘Are you done?’ She asked.

‘I was thinking about hitting you, I will be honest,’ Irene raised her hand and turned it over. ‘But I wouldn't want to ruin these gloves,’ Despite Irene saying that she wouldn't hit Lady Vale, the elder woman still flinched like Irene had struck her. ‘Now I am done,’ She sat down and picked up her wine glasses, staining her lips blood red with it.

‘I forgot how mean you can be,’ Kai smiled. ‘It is always pleasant to watch.’

‘She’s left,’ Vale let himself into Irene and Kai’s bedroom without knocking, it wasn't like he hadn't walked in on them enough times for any of them to actually care enough about it. ‘I know we are only here for a few more days, and it is going to rain again tonight but…’

‘How much work do you have left?’ Kai asked.

‘I’ll probably be finished by noon tomorrow. If we want to return to London sooner, we can do that.’

‘We can stay, a holiday of sorts,’ Irene said.

‘You have a reading list to get through, don’t you?’

[haoluvr]

For a request, could you do what kind of lingerie the members like to wear? Thx in advance!

boys in lingerie make my mind go brrrr ty anon

cheol: something that covers him up more, feels too embarrassed with lots of skin out. but still wears a bold bright red color. even with full coverage lingerie on he’s still a shy blushing mess when he comes up to you with it on. needless to say he looked so cute that you just had to expose all his skin a moment later.

jeonghan: frilly and cute, baby blue colored sets. he loves how pretty the fabric looks on his skin and the innocent baby blue color really highlights his sluttiness. would even prefer his panties being pulled to the side and fucked with his lingerie still on, loves to feel the fabric rub against him as you play with his incredibly sensitive chest.

joshua: lavender with lace. very confident in his pretty set, will come out of the bathroom after putting it on and walk around like it’s a fashion show. says the classic “you can look but you can’t touch” line, which leaves you bothered and him pressed up against the wall as you take him from behind, running your fingertips along the lace that decorates his body.

jun: white, see through, skimpy. barely covering anything while you can see his cock already dripping with precum through the small panties. sits on your lap with a pout and starts rubbing himself against you, not saying anything until you practically rip the fabric off of him and fuck him into the couch. your local lingerie store knew you two by name since you ripped his sets so often and needed to buy a new one nearly every week.

hoshi: leopard print would adore dark colored sets, another see through lover just because he loves teasing. he knows that you get riled up when he wears lingerie so he makes sure to occasionally wear different sets under his normal clothes just to give you a little surprise when you peel off his clothes at the end of the day. obviously seeing his body decorated with such pretty fabric makes you take him for round after round, just how he likes it.

wonwoo: anything with a little skirt, probably likes cat ears too. this man loves being bent over his gaming desk with his skirt flipped up while you fuck him, headset still on as he struggles to continue his game with you pounding inside of him. gets quite a few complaints in his ear from his teammates but all he can do is keep his mic off and babble to you about how good it feels.

jihoon: big t shirt with tight lacy panties underneath. will wear it all day just to tease you, making sure he bends over in front of you and let’s his shirt ride up so you can clearly see what he’s wearing. after what feels like years of torture you lock the door to his studio and take him in every position possible. poor boy couldn’t walk straight for a full week.

minghao: lacy and overall beautiful, intricate sets. always wears matching robes on top too so he can let you unwrap him like a present. sometimes just lounges in lingerie because he loves the way it looks on him and how it feels on his skin. and most of the time it’s he silent way of asking you to fuck him.

mingyu: tight tight tight and frilly. plus bottoms with a little tutu on them that give him virtually zero coverage. seeing this big beefy man so embarrassed and exposed makes you want to take a picture and store it in your mind forever. and he lets you take a few pictures, a bright blush on his cheeks with his eyes cast down, too embarrassed to look you in the eye as you shower him with praises.

seokmin: another shy beefy boy who loves pretty sets, usually dark red in color. but seeing him in a set is something that only happens every once in a while. he’ll usually put it on while you’re away to try and hype himself up but gets embarrassed after wearing it for a while. will start taking off his bra right when you walk in the door, now what you get is a flustered seokmin with his bra strap falling off his shoulder, hands flying to cover his chest and cock as he starts to grow harder.

seungkwan: soft pink and frilly, thong panties that cover nothing and put his entire cute ass on display. a confident man who struts around in his lingerie all the time- even just for fun to admire how he looks in it. takes photos of himself in sensual angles and poses and sends them to you while you’re out the house knowing that you’ll quickly drop what you’re doing to come home and fuck him silly.

vernon: another full coverage lover, not putting too much on display but still getting excited by the amount of skin that he’s showing to you. you’ll have to buy him lingerie and ask him to put it on for but when he slowly steps into the room, playing with the straps of his set as he avoids eye contact, he’ll finally realize why people like it so much.

chan: dark blue with lots of pretty designs. he buys his own sets and surprises you with each one, giving you a lap dance which eventually leads to a heated makeout session with him grinding against your thigh, precum leaking through the fabric and making your skin slick. always leads to passionate sex while he lets out delicious moans and neither of you care about bothering the neighbors.

[writtendaydreamm]

One Rule

Daniel had one rule he followed on race weekends. No sex.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, smut

It was a Grand Prix weekend and the first one y/n’s been able to attend all season. While Daniel was excited to have his girlfriend cheering him on during qualifying today, he wasn’t too thrilled about what a tease she’s been as of late. She was proving to be quite the distraction. Not exactly what he needed leading up to a big race.

It was a bit out of character for y/n. She normally tried to be as unassuming as possible during race weekends. The last thing she wanted was to jeopardize Daniel’s focus or performance. She mostly stayed out of sight and out of mind allowing him to get into the right headspace. She understood being a driver’s girlfriend required sacrifice. Fortunately for her, Daniel never asked for much. He really only had one rule during race weekends. No sex.

Now, if you know Daniel, you know he’s not really a follow-the-rules type of guy. He was more of a rule-breaker if anything. So for him to even have a no-sex rule at all, meant it was something he took seriously.

This all started very early on in his career after a horrible performance during a race he happened to have sex prior to. Needless to say, that race was one of the worst he’s ever had. Whether that incident was a fluke or if the sex really did affect his performance, only God knows. Either way, since then Daniel made it a rule to never have sex before driving. Whether that be for free practice, qualifying, or the actual race.

In accordance with his no-sex rule, the couple kept it PG these past few days sharing nothing more than some chaste kisses. It was driving Y/n up the wall. This rule never really bothered her before. But it had been so long since she and Daniel got to spend any real time together. It’s probably been around a month since they last saw each other in person. Every part of her missed him. His presence. His touch.

If she weren’t so desperate for him, she’d be impressed by his willpower. If the roles were reversed she would’ve given in by now. Y/n was not making it easy for him at all. Teasing him every chance she got. But to no avail. Dan still hasn’t budged

Y/n was just about ready to accept defeat until last night when Daniel’s resolve started to show signs of wavering. In a last-ditch effort to try and turn Daniel on enough so he’d finally fuck her, y/n wore nothing more one of than his t-shirts to bed. She was hoping for the best, but not expecting much. Daniel was already settled under the covers, headphones on, and ready for bed by the time she got there. But around a few minutes after she joined him, he got up to take a shower. Odd, since he had already taken one just before bed. Then after hearing a faint but familiar grunt coming form the bathroom, it clicked. He was taking a cold shower to get rid of his boner.

So when Y/n got dressed this morning, she didn’t choose the skimpy summer outfit she was wearing by chance. It was a calculated decision. One that would hopefully break whatever was left of Daniel’s resolve so he’ll finally toss that no-sex rule out the window.

When y/n asked him to tie her top from behind, Daniel nearly lost it right then. All he wanted to do was pepper kisses all along her neck and shoulder. How he wished he could just turn her around and pepper kisses along her breasts that were supported by nothing more than this flimsy top. But remembering his rule, he took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts aside.

Today was qualifying and Daniel was determined to earn a starting position within the top 5. He needed to be laser-focused on driving his race car at its limit today. Getting everything he can out of it. He had half a mind to lock y/n up in his car for the rest of the day the way she was acting right now. She was being a total tease the entire drive from their hotel to the circuit. Doing all the things she knew would turn him on. Like playing with his curls. Lightly massaging that spot on the nape of his neck. Running her hands over his thighs. Hiking her already short skirt up even higher.

Daniel knew exactly what she was doing. It’s not like she was being shy or discreet at all. And as much as he wanted to give her what she wanted, to rip the delicate fabric off her and take her in the back seat of his McLaren right then and there, he couldn’t shake the thought of his no-sex rule from his mind.

Swallowing hard, Daniel used every last bit of his self-control to resist her. He was so tense, his grip on the steering wheel had turned his knuckles white. Relief washed over him seeing the circuit was only a few minutes away now. He wasn’t sure how long his will would’ve lasted.

When Daniel finally parked the car, there was no denying the very visible tent that had formed in his jeans.

“Y/n,” Daniel groaned irritatedly. There were going to be cameras everywhere. There was no way he could walk out of his car like this.

She quickly feigned innocence. “What?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You know what. I can’t go out on the paddock like this right now.”

“Well all you have to do is let me help you take care of that then,” y/n pouted.

“Y/n, c’mon now. You know we can’t,” Daniel reminded her. His voice lacked any actual conviction though. “I just need a second to relax.”

Daniel closed his eyes, started to take deep breaths. In and out. In and out. It seemed to work as the tightness in his jeans started to let up.

That feeling didn’t last long though as y/n used this moment to feel him up through his jeans. Daniel’s eyes shot open as he inhaled sharply at the feeling. His hand gripped her wrist tightly but made no effort to remove her hand.

Y/n’s pussy throbbed at the feeling of how hard Daniel was for her and at how miserably he was failing to contain himself.

“The last time I fucked a girlfriend before a race I had the worst race of my life y/n,” Daniel warned her weakly.

“Well obviously, your ex wasn’t a good enough fuck,” y/n countered, her hand squeezing him through his jeans just a little. “If you won’t fuck me then at let me at least suck you off baby. How about that?”

Daniel couldn’t think straight. His mind wanted one thing, and his dick wanted something else. Her suggestion seemed like a good idea. It would be like a loophole. It wasn’t technically the same kind of sex that his rule referred to. A blowjob should be fine, right?

He took a glance around the parking lot to make sure no one was there. His McLaren was tinted pretty dark, but not dark enough to conceal them completely. A little part of him hoped someone would be outside so he had a reason to resist her. But a much larger part of him was incredibly eager to feel y/n’s lips around him.

“Fuck it,” Daniel grunted under his breath, throwing caution to the wind. He released his tight grip on her wrist and instantly took her lips in his for a hungry kiss.

Y/n smiled against his lips as she started palming him through his jeans. She pulled away, shifting in her seat to better face him. Her hands eagerly began undoing his belt and jeans.

Once she got them undone and Dan helped her pull them down mid-thigh, his dick sprang up. Wasting no time, y/n began pumping him with her hands.

Dan threw his head back in pleasure. He ran a hand through her hair, fingers lightly raking her scalp. As good as this felt right now, he knew how much better her lips would feel around him. His hand on her head began pushing her face towards his dick.

Y/n scoffed at his impatience but she figured she’d teased the poor guy long enough. Rather than fighting his hand, she allowed him to guide her head closer and closer to his dick. When she got close enough, y/n dribbled a little spit onto it.

“Fucking hell, y/n,” Daniel moaned. He may have controlled his urges for her all weekend, but it wasn’t easy. He was ready to let go and reach m the release she was about to bring him to.

When y/n finally wrapped her lips around him, he bit his lip hard to hold in another moan daring to slip out. She focused on his tip, swirling her tongue around it. Her hands pumping the rest of his dick her lips had yet to run across.

When she felt satisfied with the attention had given the tip of his dick, she released him from her mouth with a pop. The cool air from the AC still running was a stark contrast to her warm, wet mouth.

Her tongue licked a stripe from the very base of his dick, up to the tip before taking him in her mouth again. She did this a couple more times before finally sinking her mouth down on as much of his dick as she could handle. He gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail so as to keep it out of her way and to give him a better view.

Daniel could no longer hold in his moans when he felt her start hollowing out her cheeks adding extra suction as she bobbed her head.

“It feels so fucking good, baby.”

Y/n began moving her head up and down faster at the praise.

“Yeah baby, just like that. Just like that,” Daniel instructed her, his voice hoarse and husky. Both hands were now on her head helping to guide her up and down at the exact pace he needed. He was getting close.

Y/n took her mouth off him, needing some air. Daniel let out a low groan as he saw what a wreck she looked like. Her eyes were tearing, lipstick smudged, saliva all around her mouth. What a fucking sight. With his hand still on the back of her head, he brought her face to his for a wet, sloppy kiss. Y/n kept pumping his dick with her hand as their tongues battled for dominance.

Daniel pulled away first, missing the feeling of her lips on his dick. Y/n went right back to sucking on him bringing him closer to his peak.

With both hands holding her head steady, he started moving his hips up into her mouth. Daniel couldn’t control himself anymore. It started off slow and steady. But quickly, it grew rough and fast. Y/n gagged a few times as he hit the back of her throat. Her hands were on his thighs bracing herself as he chased his orgasm.

“I’m close y/n, I’m so close,” Daniel groaned.

His hips were unrelenting as he fucked her face. The rhythm he had going turned erratic. After a couple of firm thrusts, he reached his orgasm coming in her mouth. A satisfied moan left his lips as his hands let go of her head. Y/n tried to swallow as much of his load as she could before bobbing her head up and down his dick a few more times for good measure.

“That felt so fucking good y/n,” Daniel said still trying to catch his breath. He stroked her hair lovingly, trying to tame the mess he created.

Y/n just pecked him on the lips before plopping back into the passenger's seat. After fixing themselves up, the couple walked hand in hand towards the paddock. They shared one last kiss before Daniel went off to prepare and suit up for qualifying.

Out there on the track, he was surprisingly the most relaxed he’s been in a long time. He was in tune with his car and making better decisions on the fly. His lap times decreasing with every lap he finished. At the end of the last round of qualifying, Daniel managed to secure the third starting position for tomorrow. The best starting position he’s had with McLaren so far.

Maybe that no-sex rule was doing more harm than good.

When he entered his McLaren motorhome he was immediately greeted with a big hug from Y/n. “You did so amazing out there Danny.”

“Reckon it had a little something to do with that mouth of yours aye,” Daniel said cheekily, running his hand along her back.

Y/n slapped his chest playfully. “Well, I mean at least now you know that stupid rule of yours was just bull shit.”

“Nah I’m not so sure,” Daniel started, before shooting her a wink. “I think we need to test it out again tomorrow before my race. See how well I perform then.”

[wonlouvre]

hello!! can i request a fwb!wonwoo + angst to fluff 🥺 thank u

start | j. ww.

pairing: race car driver wonwoo x g.n. reader genre: fluff, angst if you squint, also 18+ (some sexual themes, mentions) warnings: couple’s arrangement is FWB, but nothing explicit, accident, injury mentions of sex (please tell me if i missed anything!) word count: 1.5k+ (i have no regrets)

💌: hi anon! thank you so much for requesting <3 this is not as explicitly fwb and angsty and i’m so sorry :((( i hope you still like it tho! i actually thought of developing this into a oneshot someday-ish. who knows? tell me what you think!

It’s no secret that you frequent Jeon Wonwoo’s office a lot. It’s also no secret that something bloomed the first time you introduced yourself to him after he won the race hosted by his very own racing track. You’re interested in cars as much as you are interested in the youngest owner of the most coveted luxurious cars in the world. You own yourself a few. Some you have purchased from him and some he has given himself for free in exchange for the special arrangement that the two of you have.

The attraction was quick but it took quite a while for the two of you to give in. Being professional business partners and all. But along the way, the two of you reached an agreement. An agreement that you thought would only last for about two months tops and yet here you are, eight months later, still running to his arms. You know Wonwoo is no different. 

“Hi Woozi. How’s my favorite racer doing?” You greet Wonwoo’s friend lounging outside the closed doors of the office you’re supposed to be visiting.

“If you’re here to visit your man, there’s a line,” Woozi deadpans as he boringly flips through the magazine with his fingers. “I’m supposed to be practicing with Wonwoo right now but he seems to be caught with something, someone that isn’t you.”

You didn’t fail to catch Woozi’s disdain and that only makes you giggle. You sit on the opposite side of the center table, placing your Prada purse beside your hip as you cross your legs. You feign ignorance on his “your man” remark but the term “someone” fuels your jealousy. Of course, you will never admit that to him. 

“It’s an admirer,” you say and grab yourself a magazine to skim through. Might as well entertain yourself if you’re indeed going to wait. It’s unbelievable. You keep in mind to avenge your wasted time in the bedroom with Wonwoo. “Been doing a lot of visiting on behalf of they’re old father who has no single interest in race cars.” 

Woozi frowns at the information. “How do you know that?”

You look up from the latest issue of racer weekly and blink up at him before pursing your lips. “I saw their car parked in my supposed parking spot. Plus, they send an awful lot of gifts that Wonwoo just gives away to his staff. Gifts are a normal exchange between potential business partners, but it’s not when said business partner always leaves love notes.”

“And, you’re not bothered at all?” Woozi finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask. 

You smirk and return the magazine to the table. Then, you pick your bag up as you stand to your feet. “Of course I am bothered. I could be with Wonwoo right now, at this moment, but they’re holding me up and I don’t like that.”

You fix your hair and skirt before strutting to the huge doors and opening them without knocking. Wonwoo is not surprised to see you but you can tell he’s relieved with the way he’s smiling at you. On the other hand, his visitor doesn’t appreciate you barging in like that. They’re resentment is pretty obvious with how they’re glaring at you. 

But it doesn’t matter. They don’t matter as you walk to the man you’re here for. 

“Woozi is waiting for you,” you cheekily say before rounding straight to his executive table to give his cheek a smooch, your red lipstick leaving a mark. You gingerly wipe it with your thumb while he just keeps smiling, looking up to you. “I wanted to stop by to invite you for lunch, but it looks like you’re busy.”

Wonwoo shakes his head and holds your hip and stands up from his chair. “No, I’m good. They’re just about to leave.”

The other person in the room panics. “But I wasn’t done explaining—.”

“My team will review your proposal and we’ll get back to you if they deem it beneficial for our company,” Wonwoo bids farewell and holds your hand to his. “My assistant will escort you outside. Thank you for your time.”

Wonwoo didn’t give them the chance to say anything else because he’s already leading you outside to meet Woozi who’s been waiting for him. You also didn’t have the chance to say your goodbyes to them because the toned arm around your waist and deep voice against your ear is enough to distract you. 

“They were cute,” you make a point to mention the culprit behind your stolen parking spot when you finally get the chance to sit down at Wonwoo’s favorite restaurant. “I think this is the third time I saw them at your office this week.”

Wonwoo gives your orders to the waiter without the need to ask what you fancy because he already knows. When the order is set, he returns his attention to you and flashes his signature smile that makes your legs grow weak. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“No, no,” you’re quick to answer before sipping on the lukewarm water you requested. “Just annoyed that during the three times I saw them, they have also taken it upon themselves to just park at my spot.” 

Wonwoo chuckles and opens his palms on the table, seeking your hand to hold halfway. You roll your eyes, but you don’t hesitate to grant him access to your ring clad hand (the ring was a gift from him and you haven’t taken it off ever since you received it). His phone suddenly dings! and you know it’s Woozi grilling him for not keeping to his end and practicing with him. 

You let Wonwoo cater to his friend’s needs all the while letting his other hand caress yours, his fingers digging on the silver band once in a while. Your heart and mind can’t help but get confused about where you stand with him because of gestures like this. 

At some point, you’re supposed to end this, right? Whatever this may be. But the real question is, do you want to end this with Wonwoo? This happiness, this warmth, this comfort, this lov—.

You step on the brakes before you could continue and blink away the daze you were stuck on for a moment. Wonwoo must have noticed you flinch because he drops his phone back on the table, eyes full of concern directed towards you.

“Are you okay?”

You force a smile. “Never better.”

It’s not less than three days later when you receive a call from Wonwoo’s assistant, voice frantically shaking as they inform you about what happened. 

To your horror, Wonwoo got injured in an accident while performing practice laps with his friends. 

You own race cars but you never thought you would be driving one beyond your usual speed limit because the stupid boy you’re in love with got in an accident. There, you admit it. You’re in love with Jeon Wonwoo not only because of his stroke game, abs, broad shoulders and deep voice among many perfect features of his.

You’re in love with him because he makes today's you look forward to tomorrow’s him. 

You try to calm your heart that’s been beating so fast because of the adrenaline and anger that’s coursing through your blood right now. Wonwoo better make sure he’s not badly injured, otherwise you would throw your hands at him yourself. 

A cut on his forehead, lips and nose. 

And a dislocated shoulder as cherry on top. 

You couldn’t mask your disappointment when you saw Wonwoo getting checked on for the last time by the doctor in charge. You grimace when you hear him groan as they place the sling on him. What do you even do with this boy?

When everyone else is gone and it’s only the two of you left, your disappointment and anger vanishes the moment he calls you.

“Hi baby.”

Your tense shoulder loosens and your legs quickly run towards him (carefully). 

“I hope you know that I hate you right now,” you say without meaning them anyway. 

Wonwoo has the energy to giggle and tug at your hand to sit beside him. He leans his head near your chest, a habit he’s been doing whenever he wants you to coddle him. Carefully and gently, you hold his head and caress his greasy locks. You’re sure it’s going to be a struggle to help him shower in the coming days. 

“Did you see your parking spot?” Wonwoo suddenly mumbles. 

“Why are you bringing that up now?” You frown. 

“I put your plate number on the wall so that no one can take the spot.” 

“Wonwoo!” 

“Baby,” he whines. “Not so loud.”

“Why would you do that?” You hiss. 

“Because I love you?” Wonwoo answers, his soft kitten eyes gazing up at you. 

You gulp and look away, trying not to smile at what he just said. 

“I was supposed to make a romantic confession over the weekend,” Wonwoo says, making you look back at him. “We’re gonna have to postpone, I guess.”

“You’re an idiot,” you whisper before pressing your lips against his smiling ones. “But, I love you too.”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying over my place until this shoulder is back to normal?” Wonwoo pleads, lips moving against yours. 

Your eyes glimmer with mischief. “Yes and that also means no sex until then.”

“Wait, what? No!”

There’s still a lot of talking to do and a lot of changes to happen. But for now, you’re just glad that today’s Wonwoo is alright. 

[misschifuyu]

hii <3

i would like to request a headcanon with kazutora, chifuyu mitsuya having sex with their s/o please? if it's too much feel free to ignore it :)

thanks <33 have a nice day/night

- hi there my love !! don’t worry, this request is absolutely fine, and it’s actually the first full nsfw one so I do hope you like it

Kazutora, Chifuyu and Mitsuya general n/sfw headcanons

genre: smut. the characters are depicted as their present selves

warnings: explicit content & language.

Kazutora

jumping right into it, i feel that kazutora is more on the make love side rather than blowing your back out. sure, if you asked him to be rough on an odd day, he'd happily comply. he's just more on the softer side

this is mostly due to his past; he knows what he's capable of, even after all those years since his toman days, so he'd be very precautious not to hurt you in any way

you'll know when he's needy, like you just will. kazutora will turn ever to touchy and try to remain as close to you as possible when he's trying to get you into bed

he doesn't really need words, but he'll speak if you ask him to

"i...really need to be inside you"

don't think this translates as skipping foreplay, though

very much the opposite. kazutora loves feeling up on your soft skin, leaving faint marks with his teeth that would gradually turn into darker shades of purple

he quite likes marking you up, it's really the only thing that could be mildly classed as rough, as he'd frequently leave teeth marks. he adores hearing your voice when he'd catch you off guard with a particularly harsh bite, squirming beneath him

this man is an avid lover of giving oral

he won't turn down a blowjob, but he'd sometimes feel a little awkward whenever you did. he'd ease into it after a few minutes, but he still preferred pleasuring you instead

between your thighs is his favourite place to be, no matter the time of the day. whether you're laying on your back or hovering over his face, kazutora will keep you there for a good while, voicing out praises at you as he basked in your reactions

if his tongue wasn't too occupied, of course

"god, i just can't get enough of you"

make sure to praise him just as much. he absolutely loves hearing loving nicknames from you whenever you tell him how much of a good job he's doing

it gets him even more riled up, and would frequently grind himself against whatever surface you were on

speaking of surfaces, though the bed is the most convenient place to indulge in you, kazutora isn't picky about the location, so long as it's somewhere inside

he's been known to take you whilst you watched a movie, on a counter as you waited for food to cook, even up against a wall when he couldn't be bothered to make it all the way to the bed

as long as he gets to watch your face twist into one of pleasure, he really couldn't care less where it was

a key point when having sex with kazutora: pull his hair

it can be in a ponytail or loose, doesn't matter; he will let out the prettiest moans ever if you just so tugged gently on his locks

it's a sensitive spot of his, so be sure to use it wisely. it'll take him some self control to not go absolutely feral on you if you do, so its best you tell him it's okay to let go before you play with his hair

whenever you start reaching your high, no matter if he's over or behind you, he will bury his face into your neck and suck on the skin, emphasising the already noticeable marks

during aftercare - because this man will pamper you after a session, no matter how long or short it was - he will trace over the marks with light kisses, asking if any of them were still sore

and, of course, a shower will be waiting for you as soon as he's done with that. it's a perfect excuse to spend so more time pressed up against you; a double win, in his eyes

Chifuyu

let's get one thing straight: chifuyu is ready to get it on with you whenever and, frankly wherever. it doesn't take much to get him all needy and, more times that not, he will approach you with the intention of getting in your pants, no matter what you were doing

of course, he will ask if you're up for it, too - consent is key, people

see, he's a very touchy, affectionate person. he loves being around you and will take up any chance to be near you. sometimes, though, this need to be close to you will escalated into something more. even if you were simply cuddling, chifuyu will, occasionally, start to feel his pants getting a little too tight for comfort

when things get going, he is an absolute sweetheart. treating you with care, he will melt into your lips, hands roaming around your body. he's not very talkative during foreplay, but that's mostly because his mouth is usually occupied

however, once your clothes have been discarded, something with click inside of him, making his only goal to leave you in an absolute mess by the time he was done with you

littering your skin with kisses and subtle bites, he will run his hands along your sides, causing goosebumps on your skin that he'd always notice, a sly smile on his lips whenever he did

he's a tease. whilst you try and push your hips towards him, he will simply place kisses on your skin near the area you most needed him to touch

you're going to actually have to tell him what you want before you loose sight of the playful smile that hung on his lips

"that's it...wasn't that hard to ask, now was it?"

chifuyu will get right to the point once he drops his teasing act, though, and expect a good two to three orgasms before he decides he's done with you

when it comes to positions, he likes those in which he can be closest to you. skin on skin is his favourite feeling, and the closer his face can be to yours, the better

when he's pounding into you, he'll bring a hand up to your face. he'd hold it softly, contrasting from his rough pace, and whisper out a series of praises

"you look so pretty like this...does it feel that good? tell me, i want to hear your voice"

a fun thing about chifuyu is that he's a switch, a big one at that. if you find the impulse to flip him onto his back, or simply take over, he will automatically slip out of his position in charge

this is when you'll be able to hear his pretty voice. although he will start with small whimpers here and there, by the time he's edging towards his orgasm he will let out a string of soft moans, grabbing onto you in any way he can as he does

when he reaches his orgasm, his grip will keep you in the position you were in, his body stiffening up as his eyes would close shut

this will be applied whether he's in control or not, honestly. chifuyu loses most of his focus when he's nearing his high, only having enough to call out your name

he may be shorter than most of the guys, but he has one hell of a stamina. one round will never be sufficient for him, and he'd certainly be up to waiting for you to calm down until the next one if it meant he could make you - and himself - see stars again

this will be when, as well as during aftercare, he will give you soft kisses against your skin, massaging areas such as your stomach and thighs as he'd let out hums of happiness

as said before, he's a sweetheart. sure, sometimes you'd be sore after being with him, but he'd always make it up to you with the most perfect cuddling session afterwards

Mitsuya

mitsuya is very skilled with his hands, as shown by his talent when it comes to designing and creating magnificent fashion pieces

watching him work is quite the sight, and even more so if you're familiar with other wonders he's able to do with those fingers of his

but, to start off, know that it will take him some determination to start anything up with you

he's a busy man with a lot on his mind, so it would take him a bit to hold himself back from just jumping on you because of the growing stress that had built up throughout the day

he's a respectful man and, therefore, will take his time and look for subtle hints to see if perhaps you'd follow his lead

when you catch his drift, though, he will be all hands on you

sex is a perfect way to wind down from his hectic schedule, and he couldn't ask for anyone else better to do it with rather than you

oral is key during foreplay. he will start by making his way down on you, his voice speaking words of appreciation between the kisses he'd place on your skin

watching you writhe from the position between your legs was something he thoroughly adored, your body jerking with every skilled move from both his mouth and his fingers

after a good few minutes of pulling his hair and high pitched moans from your behalf, he will lift himself away from you. this will be your turn to switch up places

and also when you'd see the truly, needy mitsuya

you see, he has very, very sensitive skin. his neck, his chest, his waist...with simple touches of your hand, you can reduce him to a squirming mess

when he's the one receiving oral, he will absolutely lose any sense of straightforward thinking, especially if you run your hands on his thighs whilst you peer up at him through your lashes

his moans are like music to your ears. he won't speak much, unable to actually form words as he shivers from the feeling of you between his legs, but his hand on your head will be enough to tell you that you're doing a good job

if he's sat up whilst you give him the blowjob, expect to be pushed down as soon as he reaches his orgasm. he tends to curl over when he does, his whole body turning into a trembling mess

he will make up for accidentally making you gag, though. in the sense that you won't be able to walk straight for the next few days

he may be sensitive, but he also isn't one to go slow when it comes to intercourse. he will also go for a few rounds, loving how you'd come undone before him every time

hold on to him when he does: the feeling of your nails digging into his back whenever he's on top of you always makes him pick up his speed, and he loves the marks that would appear afterwards

it was a way to know that he was taking good care of you

mitsuya isn't one to talk dirty, but he will shower you with loving comments during aftercare. he'd trace your skin with his fingers as you lay on his chest, both equally as tired and worn out

his sex drive is high, but so is his love for you

so he'd always prepare a bath for you afterwards, where he'd try and keep you awake with soft kisses and talking to you whilst you enjoyed the warm water

[seiyasabi]

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao 

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc.. 

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) ) 

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt. 

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for. 

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare. 

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed. 

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?” 

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.” 

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone. 

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.” 

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her. 

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences. 

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that. 

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!” 

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before. 

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh. 

-

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage. 

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home. 

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces. 

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before. 

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor. 

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this. 

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso. 

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably. 

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!” 

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat. 

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.” 

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well. 

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.” 

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!” 

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid. 

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form. 

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone. 

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words. 

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face. 

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it. 

-

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight. 

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling. 

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well. 

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him. 

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?” 

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you. 

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets. 

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt. 

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties. 

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!” 

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart! 

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal. 

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly. 

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.” 

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can. 

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute. 

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so. 

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties. 

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.” 

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead. 

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you. 

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour. 

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you? 

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?” 

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before. 

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny. 

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you. 

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on. 

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing. 

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls. 

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.  

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more. 

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest. 

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth. 

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you. 

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously. 

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it. 

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven. 

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you. 

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?” 

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin. 

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading. 

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh. 

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.” 

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive. 

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table. 

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation. 

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you. 

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket. 

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?” 

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera. 

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you? 

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

When I Found You (Pt. 01 of 18)

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader | Negan X daughter! Reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: You saw Negan build his empire, saw your father become a monster, a murderer, and never had the courage to stand your ground. So everything you do it help as much people as you can, carrying the guilt of being part of it. But one day, your world is shaken when you find him, the man with blue eyes locked up inside a cage. You decide to help him, to keep his community safe. And for that, you'll have to pretend you and Daryl are in love... But how long until the lie becomes the truth?

Warnings: Some sensitive topics such as mentions and light descriptions of self-harm. (I kept it light, so don't worry about graphic descriptions.)

Next part (02) ->

{The Walking Dead Masterlist}

A/N: I wanna special thanks (and give a lot of credit) to my absolutely awesome friend @multific, who helped me with a lot of ideas, and also with the final review of the text. Love you, girl!!

×

Blue Eyes

You're not the type of person who uses the end of the word as an excuse to have your way with things. To take what isn't yours, claim and keep it, just because you happen to have the upper hand. You never had it in you, the evilness, the darkness to fall into such position.

But here you are, surrounded by those who think otherwise.

Walking fast through the halls, your mind plays back everything you heard. You had to sit there, smile and nod, as Negan spoke about what he did. And what he plans to do. It makes you sick, almost to the point of throwing up what you had for lunch, only a couple of hours ago. Their description was graphic.

Negan told you all about how the guy's eyeball popped out, and how he was still standing.

You can deal with the dead, their falling skin, and disgusting, rotting corpses... But the living... Maybe it makes you a pussy, but you don't care. There's still humanity in you, and as stupid as it may be, you hope there's still a way of life that doesn't suck other people dry. A way to survive without having to steal, cheat or kill.

With a hand on your stomach, tears started to fill your eyes, you're relieved when you reach the hall, a breath flowing out as your fingers struggle with the locker.

This cell is the only place you feel alone. Where you allow yourself to cry. The only place you allow yourself to be weak.

Of course, it doesn't always work. Sometimes you break down in your apartment too, but still, you can't set yourself free from these cold, dark walls.

When the locker clicks, you sigh, sliding the metal door open. But the wave of relief is taken back as you freeze, your attention falling on the figure in the darkness, dirty and naked. His eyes, unbelievably blue, reflecting the light coming from the hall behind you, are quick to find yours.

For a moment, you wonder if this is real. With a hand holding the metal and the other flat next to your body, all words and thoughts seem to have left you. Whoever this man is, he's not only being held a prisoner. Nobody here is just a prisoner. They're always here for a reason, and they're treated like animals until they break.

You never saw anyone in this position, but your heart breaks for him. There's strength in his eyes, anger... But there's also pain.

“What are you doing here?” The voice snaps you out of your state, and you blink a few times, stepping back and turning to find Dwight.

Shaking your head lightly, you quickly remember to put on the act. It's better this way. “Excuse me?”

“Oh.” He exclaims before falling on one knee. “Forgive me.”

“What are you doing here?” You repeat his question, very aware of the man in the cell, feeling his eyes on you.

“I came to feed him.” Dwight stands back up, showing you the tray he's holding with a single sandwich that looks disgusting.

“What the hell is that?”

“Dog food.” He quickly answers, not seeming to be bothered by it. “Your father's orders.”

Your father's orders indeed.

Clenching your hand into fists, you take a deep breath. “Go and make me one of your sandwiches. The real thing.” Keeping your voice nice and soft, you take the tray from his hands. “Double that, actually. Let's have a nice meal together, you and I.”

Dwight furrows his eyebrows before nodding, leaving at a fast pace to follow your command. Of course, he finds it weird, you never spoke to him. But you don't care about what he thinks. Your instructions are to be followed, without questioning. As are Negan's.

Leaving the tray on a small wooden table near the wall, you turn back to the man. He didn't move, but his eyes are set on you.

You helped a lot of people here without Negan knowing about it because they were under his radar. But you get the feeling this man isn't. But still, you can't see yourself walking away, leaving him in this dark cell, eating that shit, and going through whatever your father has in store for him.

Quickly walking over to the cell, you stop by the door, unsure if you should step any closer. Crouching down, you wonder why he hasn't broken eye contact yet. There's a gun with you, secure in the holster attached to your thigh. But you hope you won't have to use it. “Hey.” You whisper, wondering what else could you say. “I'm sorry they're doing this to you.” They? You're part of this too, whether you want it or not. “I'll try to help–”

“(Y/N)?” The voice, familiar this time, makes you stand up. “What... The hell is going on?” Jim is quick to approach you, peaking inside the cell.

Sighing, you pull the door close, but only halfway. “Dwight, he...” Running a hand through your hair, you feel a little dizzy. But you must get it together. This is not the place to break down, someone else might come. “I came to the cell and found this man. Dwight is giving him dog food.”

“Alright, breath.” Jim holds both your arms, and you do as he says. He's the only one who knows how you feel. At least some of it. But he does know you come to this cell every once in a while, and he knows it makes you mad to see how some people are treated here. “What do you want to do about this?” He glances at the man, and you do the same. He seems... Interested in this conversation. And why wouldn't he be? This must sound like some kind of trap to him, coming from his captors.

“I don't know.” You start listening to footsteps, so you stand up straighter, as you feel like you're falling into character. It doesn't take much until Dwight comes to your sight, a small plastic Tupperware in his hand. “Good. Took you long enough.”

“I'm sorry for the delay. James.” He mutters, handing you the plastic box.

Taking a look at both sandwiches, you smile. They're delicious, you bet. “Well, let's eat.” Without any ceremony, you step inside the cell, reaching out your arm and giving that man the Tupperware.

“Wait.”

“Shut up.” You bark, as the man basically rips the thing from your hand after some seconds of hesitation, and starts devouring it. “You'll eat too, Dwight.” You say as you move back to the wooden table, leaning on it, both hands resting on each side of the tray.

Dwight scoffs, exchanging a glance with Jim. “I–”

“You know I never ask twice.” With a warning tone, you push the tray forward. “Eat.”

Your voice echoes a little as you raise it, growing impatient. You were deprived of a moment you needed so much, stomach feeling weird and head spinning. Push it back, you tell yourself. Keep it locked up. This isn't your cell, you can't break down now.

When Dwight takes the sandwich and bites it, you wish you could show off a bright smile, as Negan would. Happy to see your command followed, delighted to humiliate someone. But that's not how you feel at all.

Dwight chokes a little but swallows his bite, eyes on you, wondering if that was it. “How long has this man been here?”

“Some days. Three or four, I think.”

“And I believe you have been feeding him with this shit since the beginning, am I right?” Crossing your arms, you pace around. Dwight nods, and by the look on his face, you can tell he's waiting. Waiting for the next move, or some sort of torture. You could easily get it done. Negan backs you up about everything. You can throw Dwight into this very cell, feed him dog good for a week, burn him, cut off a finger or two... Anything you want.

This world belongs to you too, says Negan, and your desires must be attended to.

“Then finish your sandwich.” You simply say because you might have Negan's blood, but you don't share his principles.

Dwight is fast to obey, probably thinking it's best to just get done with it. And you watch, occasionally glancing at the man. He's cold, it suddenly gets to you. The nights are terrible, and the thought of him there, completely naked, shivering all night long makes you clench your hands into fists.

“I want you to stay here until my men come.” You start, a hard stare set on the blond. “They will carry out my orders, and if Negan happens to come here before they do, you'll find me immediately. Did I make myself clear?”

“Absolutely.” He sounds confused, and you can see the gears moving in his head as he tries to understand what you're doing.

But he doesn't have to know. “Great. Jim, c'mon.”

“Right away.” He mutters before following you.

•••

It does look like you have everything under control from the outside because inside your head, you're walking in the dark. Pacing around your living room, a hand playing with your lower lip, you try to come up with the next move.

A low knock on your door gets you moving, unlocking and pulling it open before allowing Jim to come inside.

“It's done.” He says, looking down at you as he takes something from his pocket. “He was set in the apartment and this is the key.”

Taking the small piece of metal, you hold it in your hand, bring the fist to your heart. “What do I do, James?” This was settled in a rush, and you don't know what your father wants with that man. You do feel better to know he's in a good place now, where he won't be cold or hungry. But the rest... You're clueless.

“I have bad news, (Y/N).” Jim starts, making his way over the couch. You follow but chose to stand on your feet. “I went around, listened to some people, and put the pieces together. That man's name is Daryl, and he's part of that group from Alexandria.”

“Shit.” You mutter, biting your index finger.

“Yeah, shit. Negan's hate for that group reaches a whole new level.”

“I know.”

“Alexandria is promising. And we know they're making alliances with different communities, so it means they won't only survive, they'll prosper. And have a hell of a good life as we have here. Maybe even better.”

“I know.” You repeat, eyes on the floor.

“Negan doesn't want to just take their stuff, he wants them to give him a reason so he can punish them.”

“I know.” Dropping to the couch beside him, you sigh. You had to listen, for hours, Negan talking about that group. How they fooled him, killed many of his men. And your father developed a fury towards Rick, their leader, that you never saw before. “I don't care, Jim. I'll tell father to leave them alone.”

“And what will you say when he asks why?”

“I'll say Daryl and I are friends.”

“(Y/N), you can't possibly think Negan will give up on a whole community over someone you befriend overnight.”

What would you do without Jim? He's the one to do the thinking when you're overwhelmed, unable to put things together. “I'll make him believe.”

“Your father does everything you ask, but without a believable reason, he'll think you're joking around and laugh at your face. You know it. You know him.”

Closing your eyes, you run a hand through your hair. “What should I do then?”

“Why do you want to help this man so much? You don't know him, he could be evil.” Jim touches your back, rubbing it softly.

“I know evil. I'm surrounded by evil men. He isn't. I saw it in his eyes...” You have no idea how to explain it, you just feel it. You just know it, somehow. “He's a good man, Jim. Trust me.”

“I do. And I might have an idea, but I'm damn sure this Daryl won't go with it.” Jim is suddenly thoughtful, that blank expression he makes when he's putting some sort of plan together. “It's quite crazy, but it might work. I can see Negan buying it if you work well.”

“I'm in. What is it?”

×

@riverscyberwife

[slightlymore]

oh no, mr suh, please don't spank me

johnny x fem reader

cameo: taeyong

genre: !!smut!!, roommates au, fake enemies to lovers, a little tiny fluffy angst bc it's my brand apparently

warnings: a lot of mutual teasing, finger sucking, sexting, solo f and m, spanking, marking, dry humping, hand job, fingering, slight cum play, not protected, overstimulation f and m, multiple orgasms, penetration, manhandling, oral m and f, tiny degradation (sparse use of ‘little slut’), rough

words: 7K

it’s finally here!! this one is very juicy haha good luck I guess :) keep your panties dry challenge

taglist: @comically-sleep-deprived​ @strawberrymilkandcigarettes​ @theworld-accordingtocasey​ @kibumingi​

_____

"Johnny, get lost." 

You raised your eyes to meet Johnny's peaceful face in the middle of the corridor, one of them still twitching for waking up so early. 

He smirked and didn't move. 

You made a step on the right. 

He did the same. 

"John," you made a step on the left. 

His body kept blocking your way. 

"Why? Are you busy?" His voice was deep and thick like honey and in other circumstances you would have wanted to listen to it forever. But that morning you woke up without a single ounce of patience. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. "Yes, unlike you." 

"I'm also busy."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?" 

"Getting between your legs."

In spite of everything, you couldn't help but snort once. 

He has been playing that game for weeks now. A little touch here, a little compliment there, but it was the first time to see him this pushy. 

"I told you that I don't want to sleep with my roommates," you walked around him, teasingly hitting his shoulder with yours. 

You weren't surprised to feel his fingers wrap your arm and turn you around. 

"You don't have to sleep with me. I can sleep well on my own. I need you awake."

Johnny let his palm dance on your skin until it got to your throat, his thumb rising slowly and caressing your lips. You gulped and looked down at his hand before locking eyes with him again. 

"You know what I mean," your breath and moving mouth tickled his finger and the twinkle in the man's eyes amused you. You were about to add something else but decided to do something instead - giving him new ideas to continue jerking off to later, since his dick will still be dry for a long time. 

But when you softly pulled his thumb into your mouth, you didn't expect to be the first to get that excited. 

Johnny let out the ghost of a sigh, staring at the way your pursed lips dragged around his skin, the softness of your tongue licking the tip after giving it a good suck. 

"Hm. Knew you were a little slut." 

You chuckled and raised your hands to press them on his chest and push him away before turning around with the intent of leaving him hot and bothered. 

But he was quicker. In a second your wrists were blocked by his strong fingers and his head was shaking. 

"No touching."

You narrowed your eyes amused. 

"Oh yeah? And what should I do for you to let me touch you?" 

His fingers intertwined with yours and if he didn't have that lustful expression on, the gesture would have been almost sweet. 

"Beg?" 

You opened your mouth in a slightly surprised o. 

"Me? Beg? I don't beg." 

Johnny let go of your hands with a smirk and ghosted your chest until getting to the hem of the oversized t-shirt you wore to bed. 

"Stop me," he whispered but all of a sudden you couldn't concentrate on forming words and frankly, you realized you didn’t want to either. 

So he knelt in front of you and slipped his fingers underneath the fabric, revealing your thighs and underwear, pushing it up until exposing your stomach. His breath tickled your skin first then you felt his lips, and when he placed the first kiss you got goosebumps all over your body. Johnny chuckled slowly and palmed your legs as if getting rid of the bumps but it only added to the heightening sensation his mouth was building up. And when he took out the tongue, circling your belly button, you breathed in deeply and grabbed his hair. He liked it since a pleasant grunt formed on his lips, which were going down until meeting the cotton of the underwear, then on one side, tackling your hip with slow kisses. 

Right when you were about to close your eyes and moan, you suddenly couldn't feel Johnny's lips on you anymore. You stared down just to see his annoying smirk, his locks still in your hand and his eyebrow raised upon seeing the little wet patch formed on your panties. 

He got up with a swift movement as if he had finished with all of his to-do list for the day and smiled. 

"I'll go make breakfast," he announced and walked around you whistling.

_____

Said breakfast was being consumed in silence. 

You had to change your underwear because the situation between your legs got too much out of control and when you came back Johnny already made coffee and pancakes. With little glances at his face you wondered how come he was that calm and, the most important thing, how come there was no tent in his gray sweatpants. 

Did he really think he could start a war and win? You scoffed while angrily munching on the last pieces of pancakes. 

"You okay?" he licked his lips after finishing his coffee. 

"Of course," you replied dryly, standing up and grabbing your plate directed towards the kitchen like a tornado. 

"Your vibes are kinda dark though?" he raised his voice for you to be able to hear over the clanging of dishes. 

"Mind your own business," you came back, the violent shift of air as you passed near him almost making his hair swoosh. 

_____

Tight clothes? No, more. Lingerie? Uh uh, more. Naked? Maybe too much. Towel? Fuck yeah, towel. 

Lips juicy, eyes glowing, and the plan was rolling as you stood inside the bathroom, grinning at yourself in the mirror, hands virtually rubbing against each other while physically they were wrapping your damp skin with the towel. 

Hidden behind a corner like a predator about to attack its prey, you waited to hear Johnny's steps coming towards the bedrooms. A little noise, calm and deep, arrived to your ears first. One step forward and the collusion was perfect. 

"Oh, sorry!" you bumped into him, the fabric shifting on your breasts, your fingers prudishly trying to cover yourself and - oops - failing. With hands pressed on your chest, the swell of it was even more visible now, the last drops of water shining on the skin and falling slowly inside the cleavage. 

Johnny remained silent, not even a tiny ‘sorry’ escaping his lips, his eyes completely trained on your body. Then, when you were already tasting the victory on your tongue, he suddenly looked behind you as if not wanting to look anymore. 

You shifted your weight from one foot to another, waiting for a more grand reaction but Johnny kept on a composed face. 

After a few seconds of silence, you were about to leave, lower lip between your teeth as your plan didn't make him go rogue. 

But then he whispered something under his breath and when you least expected it, he pushed you against the wall. The air got knocked out of your lungs making you breathless.  "You like dangerous games?" 

His tone was delicious, lips so close to yours, and you absolutely wanted to drink it all in. And he was right. You did like dangerous games and you also liked to win. 

"Yeah. And revenge as well." You finally smiled as one of your fingers slowly dragged on his chest, smoothing the creases of his white t-shirt. "Am I making you feel some type of way, John?" 

The man scoffed, staring you down. "Not really." 

"You can't even look at me in the eyes though.”

"Eyes? Something else requires my attention now, baby girl." 

The instant delicious burst of pleasure of his hands cupping your now nude breasts and his thumbs circling your hard nipples made your knees buckle. The towel, slowly falling until stopping around your waist, was dangerously close to getting to your feet if Johnny's hips weren't pressed against yours. 

One step back and you'd be naked in front of him and that wasn't your plan at all. 

No, no, wait. You were supposed to make him feel things, not the contrary. 

Then why were you letting him touch you like that? 

"Are you sure you're doing this for me and not for yourself?" Johnny smiled at your light panting and twitching fingers, pressed on his arms. 

"Enough," you whined, mind already blurry, so close to beg him to take you like that against that same wall. 

Johnny stopped and took a step back, his hands quickly going to your hips preventing the towel from falling any further. 

"I don't have to say it since it's obvious. But I've won. Again." 

You pulled the white fluffy fabric from his fingers with a huff and stormed into your room, the echo of Johnny's chuckle ringing in the whole corridor. 

_____

Disastrous. 

You couldn't believe that you got that hot and bothered when Johnny should have been the one salivating and losing his mind inside his room. 

Throwing away the towel you looked around for your clothes when a buzz from the bed made your head turn. 

"Are you touching yourself?" read Johnny's text. You snorted. Unbelievable. 

You weren't going to touch yourself. No, sir. You already lost a second time. You weren't about to give Johnny that satisfaction as well. 

From You: and if I were?

From Johnny: thinking about me?

From You: you wish.

You laid down, face illuminated from the phone and fingers hovering over the screen, somewhat invested in the conversation. But just a little. 

From Johnny: come on. do it.

You rolled your eyes amused and changed his display name. 

From You: you first 

From Evil dick: hm, I love winning though.

From You: you talk a lot for someone that's fucking his fist right now :)

From Evil dick: is this what you're imagining?

From You: yeah 

Johnny read the text and didn't reply anymore. You could not prove that he was taking care of his stiffy but the thought of him doing so made you feel triumphant. Perhaps it wasn't a full win but you could give yourself half a point. Only half. 

Because when you put your phone down, you couldn't stop your hand from sliding between your legs either. 

_____

You needed at least one win. 

Just once, only once, you wanted to see Johnny's honey eyes tremble under your touch. 

And the corridor was your arena apparently since the next day another opportunity arose. Short and quick. 

You smiled at him exiting his room and he smiled back. His lips were about to part and probably ask if you enjoyed yourself the previous night but no sound came out of them as your fingertip gently caressed his chest. It was barely there, a slight touch going slowly down. 

His jaw muscles tightened when you reached his pants and he jolted when you pulled his belt towards you. 

"It was a little crooked," you feigned innocence, your knuckles definitely brushing something that made him inhale silently. 

"I'm making breakfast." You smiled and walked around him, leaving Johnny alone in the middle of the corridor just like he did the day before. 

_____ “That’s not a win.”

You threw your head back on the couch arm, looking at Johnny upside down, the popcorn kernel you were currently about to eat stopped against your lips. 

“That was a win,” you replied. 

The man put his hands on his hips. “You just touched my belt.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah. Apparently that’s enough for you to cum, baby boy.” 

Johnny’s cheeks rose in a tight smile as you licked the salt and butter from your fingers. The look in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed to you and you loved it. His gaze caressed your face and open lips, then your exposed throat and low cut t-shirt. You knew he loved that angle. Could you possibly get two wins on the same day? 

“Want some popcorn?” you asked, handing him one kernel. Johnny put his hands on the couch’s arm, bending his frame down and taking it with his teeth. You looked away nonchalantly as his lips touched your fingers, and you grabbed another kernel for yourself. 

But Johnny was quicker. 

One hand on your jaw, pushing your head back even more, he took it from between your lips in a spiderman kiss. 

You couldn’t breathe for a few seconds, mouth open and skin burning from where his lips touched it. 

When you locked eyes again, you noticed him munching with a little smile. Still hovering over you, a few strands of hair covering his eyes, he swallowed and whispered. 

“I win.” 

_____

“Oh, no, I’m not drinking.”

Taeyong looked at you with the cocktail glass in his hand as if you grew two heads. “Y/N not drinking?” 

“I can’t drink. I’m on duty.”

You were still sitting on the couch in a ball, eyebrows furrowed and concentrated eyes. 

Taeyong took a sip from his drink then shrugged and took a sip from the one he prepared for you too. 

“On duty for what?” he plopped near you making you wobble slightly to the side. 

“War.” 

“On Johnny?” Your head snapped towards his innocent eyes. “You know about it?” 

The boy chuckled. “Want me to give you a few tips?”

He smacked his lips and shifted his weight to be more comfortable, his lids dropping as if about to share some juicy secrets. 

You imitated his position and leaned in to hear better.

“Make him jealous with me.” You blinked in silence a few times then sighed, pushing Taeyong away. “Are you trying to get between my legs too, now?” 

The other continued chuckling. “It was worth the shot. You can try stuff like touching him randomly, then.” You huffed. “You think I’m a newbie?” 

Taeyong sipped from both of his drinks again. “Then what about making him believe he got you so you can attack when he feels powerful?” 

_____

"Oh, no. I have flour on my clothes."

The dough you were working was still sticky so you got a handful of flour that accidentally went on your bottoms right when Johnny made his appearance in the kitchen. 

He looked down and, indeed, noticed a light layer of dust covering your black leggings. 

“Could you please clean them up for me? These are my favourites,” you pouted at him.  

Johnny smiled and sighed, getting closer and slapping your butt once, then twice, then again, until all the flour was cleaned up. 

"There's no reason to be this aggressive, you know?” you bit your lower lip. 

"But you like it this way. Don't you?" 

Another spank and you mewled, the sound making Johnny hum in appreciation. 

“You’re all clean now.” He stepped back and presumably stared at your ass with the excuse of checking for some more flour. 

“I didn’t say you could stop,” you whispered and almost regretted - key word ‘almost’ - saying it as your flatmate approached you again, his sudden dark aura making your skin crawl. 

“You want me to continue?” his voice caressed your ear, his tone highly amused.  

You acted as if gathering the courage to confess that, yes, you wanted him to spank you but, oh no, you were so shy and he was so strong, you couldn’t do it like that and in public!!? oh no, you couldn’t take it. 

“N-no, it’s better if we stop here. I- I don’t think I can handle it. It will make me go crazy.”

Even if not seeing him in the face, you could almost physically sense Johnny’s puzzled aura. Laughing to yourself you wondered what kind of reaction he would come up with this time. 

He didn’t say anything for a few moments and when you were about to turn your head to check on him, you felt his chest on your back and he engulfed your body with his arms as he pressed his hands on the counter in front of you. 

“Okay,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m giving this one to you.” 

_____

From Evil Dick: I can hear your vibrator from the kitchen

From You: I’m not using any vibrator right now From You: maybe it’s taeyong lol 

From Evil Dick: lol From Evil Dick: it’s definitely coming from your room tho

From You: you’re imagining things you wish were true

From Evil Dick: I don’t imagine you getting off on vibrators From Evil Dick: I like to be included in my fantasies :)

You: typing You: deleting You: typing You: deleting

From You: fuck you

From Evil Dick: fuck me yourself From Evil Dick: 4-2 for me

Johnny smiled brightly when you barged into his room. 

He was laying down in the dark, with only the phone illuminating his face. 

“Are you already done?” he asked teasingly. 

You stopped at the feet of his bed with crossed arms. 

“I’m here to fuck,” you announced. 

Johnny remained with his mouth open as his brain processed the information then laughed. 

“I don’t think you will,” he sat up, resting his back on the bed frame. The movement lifted his t-shirt a little, exposing the waistband of his boxers above the sweatpants and his lower stomach skin. 

You didn’t add anything and got on your knees on the bed instead, slowly crawling towards him until getting between his legs. Then you sat on your heels and took away your shirt. 

Johnny followed your frame and his eyes grew wide seeing you naked underneath the falling fabric. You smiled and his loss of words and you imitated his position, sitting in front of him and opening your legs to drape over his. 

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he whispered, eyes trained to where you slowly dragged your fingers. 

Inhaling deeply you closed your eyes and threw your head back, gently drawing circles around your clit before pushing two fingers inside of you. 

“Shit,” Johnny repeated and you whined, the wet sound telling him how you felt. 

“I didn’t say I’m here to fuck you. You can’t touch me nor can you touch yourself. If you do, you lose,” you instructed breathless and Johnny dug his fingers in the mattress underneath him. 

You smiled and bit your lower lip, fully enjoying his expression, his eyes looking as if drinking you in and were making you go crazy. 

But then he smiled too and it threw you off. 

In a second his hands were on your thighs as he pulled you towards him from underneath your knees until reaching the hand between your legs. He grabbed your wrists and blocked them in an iron grip. 

“You can’t touch yourself either.” 

You were breathing heavily, naked and so close to Johnny that you could almost feel the warmth of his body on your skin. 

“What’s with that face, baby girl? You wanted to cum?” he cooed at you. 

You bit your lower lip and shook your head. 

Johnny pouted. “Hm, baby girl can’t even lie well. Are you sure you don’t want to feel my fingers inside of you?”

You closed your eyes. “I don’t.” 

The other pulled you towards him by the wrists again until being able to whisper on your lips. 

“What about my tongue?” 

“Fuck, John, plea-” you interrupted yourself. 

Johnny smirked. “What was that? Please?”

You shook your head again. “No.” 

“I definitely heard you say please just now.” 

Panting and on the edge you considered just not caring about anything and fuck that man on the spot. 

“Truce,” you whispered. Johnny tilted his head to the side. 

“It’s not over and no one wins or loses this time,” you explained. 

“That’s convenient for you,” he teased. 

You huffed and fully sat on his lap, rolling your hips once on his hard cock. 

“I think it’s convenient for you too,” you commented after Johnny’s trembling sigh. 

His eyes grew darker and his hands grabbed your ass, pressing you on himself even harder. Your arms wrapped his neck and you hid your face into the crook of it, trying to conceal your whimpers. 

The rough material of his sweatpants did wonders to your sensitive clit and you didn’t need a lot to start shaking in Johnny’s arms. Your hips stopped as you moaned, digging your fingers into his shoulders but his hands on your waist forced you to go on. The overstimulation felt delicious and you didn’t care what words you mumbled into his ear, jolting every time his cock rubbed on your raw clit again and again. A few deep grunts and Johnny’s erratic movements told you that he was close too. You kissed his jaw then the skin next to it, then the corner of his lips, breathing in the air he breathed out then moaning once as he took his cock out and pumped it in his hand, spurts of warm cum coating your lower stomach. You looked down at the way it dripped between your legs and felt dizzy from pleasure. Johnny read your mind and quickly collected the drops fallen on your clit, drawing circles around it quicker and quicker until he had you shaking for the second time, head fallen on his shoulder and teeth digging into his neck skin. 

You remained like that, breathless and fucked out until you finally could manage to raise your head again. “This never happened,” you whispered and Johnny nodded amused.

_____

You yelped as Johnny’s wide palm slapped your butt unannounced. "John! I'm near the stove!" 

"Good morning," he smiled sweetly as he retrieved two coffee mugs from the cupboard. 

"What if I burnt myself?" you accused him even if you both knew it was highly improbable. 

"I would have kissed the bruise until the pain disappeared," he placed the mugs down and walked around you, positioning himself behind you and trapping you with his arms. One hand turned the stove off and the other danced on your stomach pulling you against him. 

"When will you stop?" you tried to steady your voice since your ass rubbing on your roommate's crotch wasn't exactly calming. 

"When you'll beg," he whispered in your ear with his playful tone. "But I'm not trying to do anything now. You were so caught up into staring at me that you didn't notice the eggs and I'm here to save them." 

You put your tongue inside your cheek to prevent yourself from smiling. Johnny breathed in as if trying to add something else but the sound of a voice made you both jolt. 

"What are you guys doing so early in the morning?"

You almost forgot you had other roommates besides your sworn enemy poking at your back with his cock. 

"Teaching Y/N how to make good eggs."

Taeyong raised one eyebrow at the scene in front of himself. "Yeah. Adding a sausage does make your eggs taste better." 

"Oh my God," you mumbled, turning around and pushing a chuckling Johnny away. 

"Do you want to know my recipe?" Taeyong raised his voice since you were already leaving the kitchen. 

"Two sausages--," then a smack and a fit of laughter as Taeyong promptly apologized for even daring to assume he could add himself into the equation. 

“Come on. I thought you were in a good mood this morning by the looks of that bright red hickey.”

“Yes and I don’t share what’s mine.” You almost stumbled on our own feet in the corridor.  

"I'm out of town this weekend, by the way. If you want to go all out…" was the last thing you heard and the one giving you the best idea for your new plan. 

_____

It was almost two in the morning and Johnny was nowhere to be seen. 

You rolled over on the bed with a huff then kicked the blanket staring at the lingerie you were wearing with sudden disgust. 

It was the weekend and the house was empty - the perfect occasion for you to play with Johnny. And where was he? Probably fucking somebody else. 

You were sick with anger. 

Getting out of the bed - his bed where you waited for him - you stripped out of the sexy lace and grabbed the first t-shirt you found. It was one of his and even though it was clean, it still smelled like Johnny. 

You got back under the covers and crossed your arms on your chest, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed. 

It wasn’t jealousy. You didn’t care if Johnny fucked other people. It’s not like you even fucked properly in the first place. You were just irritated that your plan didn’t work as you wanted it to. 

With an argh you turned on your side and hugged the other pillow, Johnny’s scent engulfing you all again. 

God, he made you so mad. 

_____

The first thing you realized as you woke up was the fact that your room didn’t have a black accent wall. 

The second one was Johnny’s arms around you - one behind your head and the other one thrown around your waist. 

You were sleeping on your back, one hand placed on top of his and the other one on the veiny forearm. With one finger you followed one of them until reaching the bicep then you slowly turned your head to look at him in the face. 

He didn’t close the blinds when he came home last night so the sun was shining brightly behind him, making him look like an angel. 

You smiled for a moment, staring at his calm expression and listening to his regular breath before widening your eyes in horror and snapping out of your sweet thoughts. 

What was that? 

You didn’t care about John Suh and you definitely didn’t care about the way his caramel hair was draping on his forehead. 

“Mm,” his raspy voice accompanied his strong arms pulling you towards him as you tried to slip out of the bed. “Where are you going?” he mumbled, eyes still closed and very much half asleep. 

You sighed and relaxed on your back again without a word and when Johnny rolled you over to face him you didn’t resist it. 

“Did you sleep well?”  “Where have you been?” you spoke on top of him. 

The words, or maybe your tone, made Johnny’s eyes open in an instant. 

You weren’t looking at him, your eyes were low on his chest instead. He raised one hand to cup your cheek with the intent to make you look at him but you flinched. 

“What’s going on?” he questioned. 

You sighed again and shook your head. “Nothing. I’ll make breakfast.”

As you tried to get out of the bed again, Johnny’s arms didn’t want to leave your body. “Y/N. Wait. Stay.” 

His hand got to your face a second time and this time you locked eyes with him. 

“I was out. Like most weekends,” he explained. 

You gulped and nodded. “Good.” 

“No, it’s not good. You don’t seem to like that.” 

You didn’t add anything, neither denying nor confirming it.

Johnny’s eyebrows met in the middle. “You’ve never had a problem with that.” 

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you finally managed to get out of bed and Johnny let you go this time. 

“I didn’t fuck anyone, if you’re wondering,” you heard him say as you walked the few steps towards the door. 

“I don’t care if you fuck people, Johnny.” 

“You do.”

Your feet stopped in place. “I don’t.” 

“You’ve just made the same expression you put on when you claim that you don’t want me to touch you and we both know that’s a lie.” His voice was calm but stern. “Just admit it.” 

You just resumed walking and exited the room. 

_____

It was weird and not something familiar to your gut, but every time you saw Johnny, you felt the urge to either kiss his lips, cry on the floor, punch his face or run away. 

The first was understandable, even if weird; the second one was absolutely weird and you had no idea what the fuck was going on with you; the third was also highly understandable. 

But it was the last one that you chose. 

So when Johnny entered the kitchen you got out. When he opened the door to his bedroom you closed yours. When he sat on the couch, you got up. 

Until he couldn’t take it anymore and barged into your room unannounced. 

“Hey! Knocking maybe?” 

You were on the bed, scrolling through your phone and looking absolutely impresentable. 

“Talk to me.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not in the mood to play right now, John.” 

He walked over and sat on your bed. 

“I don’t want to play. You’re avoiding me.” 

“Look, it was fun for a while, but I don’t feel like continuing the little game we had going on. Let’s go back to how it was before.” Y

ou hoped you sounded convincing to him because you didn’t sound convincing to your own ears. 

Your words did make Johnny put on a sour expression though and you pretended to not notice. 

“Okay,” he said after a moment and you retrieved your phone from the bed, expecting the conversation to be over. 

Yet, when he placed his palm on your thigh your hand stopped in mid-air. 

“What are you doing?” 

He looked down to where his finger slowly caressed your skin, creating little goosebumps all over it. Then Johnny looked up and whatever expression you had on, it was enough for him as he suddenly got up and left the room. 

_____

“Brr, this house is colder than the heart of my elementary crush after he refused to share his food with me.” 

Both you and Johnny ignored Taeyong’s words, busy rolling your peas into your own plates. 

“What happened while I was away?” 

“Nothing happened,” you mumbled. 

“Hm,” the boy commented, munching on his food. “Wait,” he stopped, struck by realization, “ you mean like - nothing - happened? This is why you’re both mad? You didn’t fuck?” 

You rolled your eyes and got up with the plate in your hands. 

“She’s mad because she doesn’t want to admit that she has feelings for me.” 

The bomb that Johnny threw made both Taeyong and you shake in your places.

“What?” you asked incredulously. “I don’t have feelings for you.” 

Johnny calmly put down his fork and looked up at you. 

“Well, I do.” 

You opened your mouth in a silent shock while Taeyong initially gasped then soon after shrugged, whispering under his breath. “I mean, it was kinda obvious in his case.”

“And I don’t like the fact that you think I have space in my mind for other people besides you,” he continued. “Because it’s not true.” 

“Woah,” Taeyong rested his back on the chair as if watching a soap opera. 

“Did you really have to do this in the living room at dinner time?” you asked him after a few seconds of opening and closing your mouth like a fish. 

“Oh?” Johnny raised his eyebrows. “You want to take this to the bedroom instead? Let’s go,” he got up suddenly. 

“Aw, guys, come on. You always hide the funniest stuff from me!” whined Taeyong seeing you leave. 

“You know what I mean!” you replied to Johnny but still followed his quickly moving frame inside his room. He closed the door behind him and crossed his arms on his chest as if waiting for you to talk. 

“What?” you imitated his position. 

“Say something?” 

“I don’t know what to say! What does one say after all of that?” you questioned. 

“Do something? I just said I am in love with-” 

In the end you did something and that something was wrapping his neck with your arms and kissing him deeply. 

Johnny remained still for a moment as if shocked before finally relaxing his arms and tightly pulling your body towards his. 

Your mind was empty and you had no idea what was going on but after a few seconds of tasting Johnny’s tongue you were already thrown on the bed. It creaked under Johnny’s force and you jolted at the way he dragged your pajama pants down. No sexy outfit and no lace lingerie to meet his eyes, yet they were full of such intensity and lust that you realized it didn’t matter at all. Hands in his hair, you raised your bust to connect your lips again. 

“I was so fucking mad you weren’t home that night. I thought I was about to go crazy,” you breathed out while Johnny was palming your torso, lifting up your t-shirt and cupping your breasts. 

“I know. Punish me then. Show me your anger,” he joked.  But his reply turned a switch into your body and you managed to push his chest away from you. He smiled at your reaction and rolled over on his back, letting you straddle his lap. 

“I’m going to tease you so much until you’ll be the one begging me to touch you.”  

Johnny caressed your thighs. “Hm. I don’t need any teasing. You’re breaking me with your mere presence. Please, please, touch me.” 

Your breath got stuck in your throat and you couldn’t see anymore. The grunts leaving Johnny’s throat as you bit into his neck were so hot that you wondered what stopped you from letting yourself hear them before. And when you moved to his chest, then stomach, littering his skin with love bites his muscles twitched under your touch. 

You had no words to describe how it felt to have him inside your mouth. Heavy, hot and so present, you choked only on a third of it. 

“Shit,” you mumbled, taking it out and pumping it instead with your hand. 

Johnny loved it anyways and he looked at you with such intensity that you wondered if you could make him cum with only a few kitty licks. 

“It’s alright. You don’t have to,” he breathed out. 

“It’s alright. I know I have a monster cock and you don’t have to suck on it if you can’t handle being deepthroated,” you mocked him trying to imitate his tone. “Well, I want to and I will.”

And so you listened to Johnny’s airy chuckle, broken by the feeling of your mouth on him again, this time deeper than before. 

“You love a challenge, huh?” 

You would have said that, yes, you loved it and you loved to win, if it weren’t for his cock sliding down your throat making it difficult to talk. 

“Fuck, baby, that’s- oh shit-,” he grabbed your head as you bobbed your head up and down a few times before you couldn’t take it anymore and let it out with a lewd plop. 

“Baby?” you raised one eyebrow at him. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“Do I look like a baby to you?” you smiled with wet lips, your hand restlessly pumping his cock hard and fast. 

Johnny grunted again, his hips rising to meet your touch even more. 

“Hm, no, you look like a little slut right now,” he agreed with a smirk before his expression changed again into, you realized in that moment, the best view you’ve ever seen in your whole life. Head thrown back and completely at your mercy, Johnny came hard, his whole body twitching as his cum spurted on your hand and face. 

“I think I won this time,” you pumped him a few more times before letting him go. “Hm, you drink so much coffee,” you smacked your lips after licking his cum off your fingers. 

“This wasn’t part of the game.” 

“Yeah, well, I’ve just decided that it was,” you shrugged. 

Johnny grabbed his discarded t-shirt and cleaned his stomach. “So, are we playing now?”

His tone got dangerous and his expression made your wet pussy even drippier but you had no time to worry or form a single thought about it since you suddenly found yourself with the face on the mattress instead. 

You turned your head sideways to be able to breathe and Johnny’s hands didn’t even try to be gentle when they pulled your panties down. 

The loud smack arrived before the sensation of his big palm on your asschecks could. When you finally felt the burning sensation, another slap added to that. 

Your fingers grabbed Johnny’s blanket, preparing yourself for the third spank, absolutely not expecting his tongue inside of you instead. 

“Fuckfuckfuck-” you mewled but your sounds only made Johnny more ferocious, hands opening you up, eating you out as if he’d been dying to do so for a long time. And it was true for yourself too, but no imagination of yours could have realistically portrayed the way he was making you feel and no fingers of yours could reach as deep as his did, fingering you fast, tongue not stopping for a second, not even when you violently went over the edge with the loudest moans you’ve ever heard yourself emit. 

“You win, you win-,” your rough throat tried to stop him from torturing your overstimulated clit and you heard him suck on his fingers after he let you go. 

“Okay, I’ll take it. But this is just the beginning. Are you going to let me fuck you, baby?” he caressed your ass, going down to your waist and cupping your breasts. 

The movement made his cock poke at your entrance and you imperceptibly opened your legs even more. 

“Yes, please,” you whispered back, turning your head to meet his lips as he lifted your chin. 

“Hm? Say that again?” 

“Please.” 

His tip easily slipped inside but the stretch still made you hiss through your teeth. Johnny shushed you, kissing your shoulder and neck until he bottomed out. “You can handle it, right baby?” You tried to nod but his first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs and you let your head fall down again with a whine. 

Johnny moved again and again then stopped with a grunt. “Beg a little for me again.” 

You bit your lower lip, his tip pressing right when you needed it to and you wanted him to do it non stop. 

“I don’t think I will beg again,” you whispered with a smile and started to move your hips instead. It was a sloppy and slow job, nowhere sharp and quick as Johnny’s, but you had to win again. 

The man let your ass bounce on his stomach a few times, staring at the way you were stretched around him then he grabbed your waist and left you all empty. 

You whined, clenching yet nothing being inside of you anymore. 

“I said beg.” 

His breath was now on your spine, his wet mouth placing kisses on your skin, making it shiver and taking some of it in his teeth, sucking on it until he was satisfied. 

But you remained silent and he clicked his tongue at your stubbornness. In a single go he filled you up again and this time he never stopped. 

He was breaking you in half and if you hadn’t already had tears in your eyes, this would have been the time to start crying from pleasure. 

“Holy fucking shit--John-” you cried out, breath rhytmically broken by his deep thrusts and when he added his slaps again, you just lost it all, cumming so hard that the neighbors were probably ready to call an ambulance. 

Johnny stopped balls deep inside of you, feeling the way you clenched around him. And when you thought it was over, when you barely started to hear again, he moved as hard as before, shushing you and pressing his fingers roughly into your skin. 

“You can handle another round, right baby? You’re such a pretty little slut with a bigger attitude than she can carry. This is nothing for you.” 

Fucked dumb, you could only nod and Johnny started to lose control himself, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, some drops falling from his collabones to his chest. And when you felt his cum spurt inside of you, you finally begged, repeating it again and again. Johnny didn’t stop and you knew that you wouldn’t be able to move at all the next day when your muscles contracted for the nth time in so little time, collapsing completely after Johnny slowly slipped out of you. 

His breath felt wet and boiling on your face when he dropped beside you. 

He swallowed a few times trying to catch his breath. “Fucking finally. I knew it was going to be epic. Why did you refuse me for so long? Look what you missed.” 

You would have snorted if you had the force so you resorted to just let out a whine. “I refused so I couldn’t see this. I have a big attitude? Well, you have the biggest ego in the world.” 

Johnny turned his head towards you. “And cock.” 

You rolled your eyes and accepted his hands pulling you towards his chest. 

“Ew, you’re sweaty,” you mumbled. He kissed your forehead. “And you love it.” “No,” you denied it, “butIloveyou,” you added quickly. 

Johnny shook your body in a hug. “Hm?? Say that again.” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

That grown man pouted at you making his eyes wide and glossy. “Please?” 

“Whoa,” you smiled, “are you acting cute at me right now? After killing me with your monster cock?” 

Johnny nodded cutely and repeated the plea. 

“Okay, okay. I-- love you.” 

He chuckled happily and tightened his arms around you again, squeezing you in an almost mortal hug. 

“Again.”

You sighed realizing that you were suddenly dealing with a child. 

“I love you.” 

And you repeated it again and again until you were sure that he finally fell asleep. 

With one hand to caress his face you finally indulged in staring at him, fully realizing what that weird sensation in your gut was. 

“I really love you.” 

Your whisper was tiny and barely audible but Johnny smiled. 

“I know. And I love you too.”

[cinnamonest]

Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

----------

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away. 

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over. 

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart. 

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

[itsonlydana]

Hilo dana!! Can i get prompt 12 if not can you do one where foolish is taking y/n out for an arcade date and y/n remembers these bomb (something) so then he takes them to steal said something

Also every since i started following you im slowly getting foolish brainrot. Luv ya and take care!!

"You have to tell me why we are committing a felony before we do it. I mean, I’m all on board, but why exactly are we breaking into our school right now?"

➛ pairing: cc!Foolish x gn!reader

➛ tags/warnings: fluff, none

➛ event masterlist

➛ an: hi my love, I'm very glad I collected you for my bag of Foolish simps! I didn't really know what you meant with the second idea so I went with the original prompt.

important links: rules + masterlist

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

When Foolish had asked you if you had all-black clothes, you had first wondered who didn't and not why this question came in the middle of the night, when you were just about to go to sleep.

Such abrupt, seemingly contextless questions were nothing new from your best friend Foolish, he had always had no problems with saying every thought he had, even without thinking about whether it fit the situation and usually they were quite harmless questions or ideas.

He didn't usually drag you through the streets at three in the morning dressed in black, hiding behind bushes and humming the Kim Possible tune as if you were on a secret spy mission. He didn't usually throw himself on the ground at every few passing cars and put a hand over your mouth when you yawned.

But he was your best friend and his dumb ideas, were your dumbest experiences.

"You have to tell me why we are committing a felony before we do it. I mean, I'm all on board-" you finally asked after a while. Leaning against a red brick wall, you glanced at Foolish, who was concentrating on turning a hairpin in a door lock. "But why exactly are we breaking into our school right now?" At your question, he looked up at you briefly, dismissed it with one hand, and you heard a clack. Well then, you didn't get an answer. It didn't bother you, you had already come so far, you would survive the last meters even without knowing what you were doing.

Half asleep, you followed Foolish through the empty corridors of your school, where you would be sitting again in a few hours, probably falling asleep over your math assignments.

"(y/n), come on," Foolish called, and you looked up. During a yawn, you had turned slightly and headed straight for a locker wall. If it hadn't been for his shouting, you would have definitely run into it and you didn't really want to come home with bruises or a bump on your forehead.

"Foolish I want to sleep," you whined when you got to your waiting friend and fell against his shoulder. He has already bent over a door lock again and you took the opportunity to briefly close your eyes on his hunched back.

Until the door burst open, causing you to stumble straight into the classroom. Why the fuck were you in a geography room?

With a few jumps, Foolish had sprinted to his seat and was rummaging in the drawer of his desk. He rummaged and rummaged, pushing around the accumulated junk and mounds of snacks he'd hidden there until he apparently found what he was looking for, because he grinned broadly at you.

"Tada! Got it!"

"Foolish that's an eraser!"

Grinning, he jumped back to you and closed the door, slipping the pink eraser into the pocket of his black cloth pants. "But not just any eraser...this is my lucky eraser!"

Dumbfounded, you looked at him. "Please tell me you've been detained by some FBI agents because they need it for a life-threatening mission".

Foolish shook his head. "Nah, but I need it for the math exam tomorrow. I don't want to get to school early to get it out of the classroom and then stress myself out getting to math on time. Come on hop on, I'll carry you back home."

"Wait, we're writing math tomorrow?"