#her embracing it doesn't make it better

[genericpuff]

oh boy rachel's telling on herself a little-

so we noticed that her Twitter name recently changed again, now featuring her bluesky social in her username to obviously advertise to people that she has a Blue Sky.

She's had BlueSky for a while, but it obviously doesn't have as massive of a following because 1.) Blue Sky is still a much smaller platform than Twitter (undoubtedly because it still requires invite codes to join), and 2.) it's really, REALLY hard to move the entirety of your fanbase from one platform to another as many followers are bound to be "dead" (i.e. not active on the platform anymore) and others will naturally fall off because they may have followed ages ago but never bothered to keep up or unfollow from a page that was just on their backburner.

But interestingly enough, this change is very recent and when you check her BlueSky, which she would only post to every once in a while, it's now seeming to be a lot more active with multiple posts over the past couple days. So I think it's very clear at this point that she's trying to actively commit to the migration from Twitter to BlueSky.

BUT HOOO BOY. SOME OF HER POSTS Y'ALL. SHE'S PRACTICALLY DOUBLING DOWN LMAO

You've all seen me dissect the SHIT out of Rachel's art process and y'all can verify it yourself through those posts that never once has she shown herself drawing this way. Never in the process reels, or the time lapse videos, or the single sketch posts she's made. So her claiming that she "likes doing this as well" is just flatout false because she doesn't do this. So I literally don't know who she's trying to fool with this (aside from her own fanbase) but she ain't fooling me LMAO

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A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

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A post shared by Rachel Smythe (@usedbandaid)

But that's not even the best thing she's shared, oh no. Because this isn't even the full kit of clown makeup.

Nope, that goes to this repost-

No hate to the person who posted this, I'm sure they're chill and cool, I just think the fact that Rachel of all people reposted this to her BlueSky which she's trying to replace her Twitter with is very telling. We all know this isn't just Rachel sharing something funny for the gag, we know exactly what Rachel likes and portrays in her work that she could see herself in through this post.

And what's even more telling (and hilarious) is that this may as well have been her running away to BlueSky after the "Never apologize for being Sicilian" tweet became the top result when you search "Lore Olympus" on Twitter LMAOOO

I'm not saying that's exactly what's going on here, but the thought of Rachel deciding to fully commit to moving to BlueSky out of sheer embarrassment over this one out-of-context panel from years ago that went viral overnight - and staying at the top of the search result feed because no one's engaging with good faith LO posts anymore - is hilarious, and if it takes this dumbass panel of Hades telling Persephone she should never apologize for being Sicilian to get people talking about how stupid and hilarious LO is, then I say it's about damn time.

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

"Not a wink," Randall confessed with an appropriately-tired smile: True to his predictions, he couldn't hardly get himself to sleep, and so instead did he quietly roam his house, taking in the empty rooms, committing them to his memory as best he could, before eventually leaving the house altogether to go down to his parents' graves, and leave them fresh wildflowers and a tearful goodbye, hoping he would one day return to bring them more flowers.

"I got a little bit of sleep," Elizabeth admitted with a small shrug-not much, but more than Randall, it seemed, though she too did leave home a little earlier with her mother, so as to pay a visit to her father's grave, they too leaving flowers and making a promise to one day come back. This was a very important promise, as Elizabeth often spent time at her father's grave, whether it was reading, resting her mind, or recounting her day for him, finding she felt close to him in doing so.

"I feel like I got the most sleep out of all of us," Dorian replied with a little smile-unlike his bride and friends (including Beau, who only got enough sleep to drive the carriage, he felt), he actually slept fairly soundly until it was time to get ready to go. As part of his prep, he left a note on his nightstand for his parents, simply stating that he and Emily had decided to cut out the middleman and elope, and not to worry about them. Maybe he would send them a postcard sometime. Maybe. Probably not.

"You probably did," Randall smiled, as he took Emily's hand, asking, "What about you? Did you get any sleep, my heart?"

[phantomrose96]

The alt-right's foothold into Gen-Z is frustrating and I can see from over here how they're doing it.

You've got a generation of young-adults who are learning to be adults for the first time and for so many of them it sucks. It sucks to be in your first shitty apartment where things break, and to have your first shitty car that needs maintenance, and to be working a low-paying service or retail job where you get berated all day and barely scrape by. And you go home and you have taxes to figure out and electric bills to figure out and a screen on your phone to rot into to destress.

And this is men and women, equally, in this spot. But the alt-right messaging gets to tailor their approach to gender.

And hey women, yes you working a shitty job for shitty pay, overwhelmed by financial responsibilities and car repairs, what if you actually didn't need to do ANY of that? You don't need to. And you don't need to feel guilty about it. (You're not quitting, you're not being lazy), you actually are just embracing the chance to be exactly who an ideal woman should be. You should actually be beautiful, and demure, and barefoot in a sunny kitchen, glowing, pregnant, hearing the joyful sounds of your children while you bake a roast for your wonderful husband (strong, protective, loves you, handles the finances, handles the jobs, handles all the things you hate). OUR ancestors (don't mind the dogwhistle) did this for GENERATIONS, and modern society has failed you instead!

It's offering to break women out of all the parts of their real life that suck, and do it in a way that promises they're actually being better, being more admirable, more moral, more respectable, more correct, can feel good about, can feel proud about, as a Woman as Feminine as Mother as Goddess.

And the thing being promised does not need to actually reflect reality. It's a fantasy. It is not real. For every "beautiful demure barefoot" day, you'd be having another one covered in shit changing diapers of screaming infants with screaming children while your husband ignores you because it's Women's Work (take pride!) But that doesn't matter. It just needs to sound better than the reality they're living.

Then the men are targeted too. And it's the same in that it's getting to them by appealing to pride in their gender, but the messaging is different. It's "those finances are hard but ACTUALLY you're leveling up, you're grinding, you're finance maxing." It's hard but it's the kind of hard that is a challenge you can WIN at, boast about, post about, prove your manliness. Knowing cars, knowing home repairs, knowing taxes, that's your MAN pride, and you are so elite, you are so sigma, you are the envy of everyone, you are a masculine man. Women love you. Women will defer to you. Strong, respected, moral, loyal, unshakeable. Unlike those pansy men (mind the homophobic dogwhistling) who will whimper and cry like girls. You are better.

The shitty retail job is actually humble beginnings because you're minmaxing your way to financial success (bitcoin, crypto, investments). You can sleep with any woman you want as long as you're confident, and then you'll find one who understands how smart and confident and strong and protective you are and she will defer to you as her man. She will birth your children and teach them good morals and you will make it. Our ancestors lived this way for generations (dogwhistle) and modern society took it from you.

And with that messaging it makes it clear who the enemy in all this is - modern society that has convinced women to torture themselves with high education and terrible jobs, turned them Ugly with Ugly opinions and bad hair and nasty attitudes, yelping about "rights" and "equality" (pitting them against men! TAKING things from men!) All the while, society has been trying to emasculate men--replace them with women, make them soft and emotional, make them gay, make them WEAK. We've been made WEAK.

The naive women hearing this go "I'm not ugly! I don't hate men! I DO hate my job and my finances. I've been tricked. I'm actually rebelling by declaring my goal is to get a Perfect (White) (Christian) moral husband who will make all our decisions and protect me and our children." (And when she's financially trapped in an abusive marriage...? When she's suicidal with PPD but her husband won't touch that because it's Woman Hysteria...? And when her husband leaves her for someone who was as hot as she was 20 years ago and now she's figuring out finances, health care, taxes, bank accounts for the first time in her life...?)

And the men go "They've been TAKING things from us for too long! It's time to be men again! It's time to take pride! I am strong and confident. I am in charge! I never show weakness!" (And when he's got a gun to his head due to the depression he's never been allowed to talk about as Women Feelings...? And when he's financially ruined from a crypto scheme that stroked his ego and robbed him blind...? And when he's dead from alcohol poisoning and none of his adult children notice because no one's spoken to 'Dad' in 15 years...?)

And it's so hard to fight because you're arguing against a fantasy. How do you disprove their fantasy? It's so hard to explain to them, hey you're working a shitty job where you have no future because the rich bastards took it all from you. And now you're doing their work for them. You hate society because of what they've done to it and now you're doing their work. Now you're targeting groups who've never done anything to harm you and the guys responsible are laughing to the bank. How do you explain? How do you disprove fantasy?

[c0sm1cp0tat0]

Yandere! Saja Boys x Reader

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

You lost your boyfriend recently. He had been loving. Caring. With him, you'd felt like everything was a bit...lighter. Like the horizons were a little bit brighter. It was loving relationship.

He'd kiss you on the cheeks, and comment on how soft your hair was. You'd turn back to him and lunge at him, pressing your open mouth to his. Those were the type of days you spent.

You sat now, in your lonely empty house, scrolling your phone. He was gone now, and the world felt grey. Your grief wasn't like everyone else's. When losing a loved one, anyone would shut themselves in and do nothing. Not you. You'd done everything-- that extra bit at work, worked out to the max, followed your diet, talked too much to your colleagues and now you were invited to a party.

You just didn't care anymore. Couldn't be bothered to fight in your own mind. Couldn't be bothered in the least to not do something you were used to doing everyday. The pain was too much.

It was that faithful evening you were walking towards the said party. You were walking past a performance. A new boy band. Was it their debut?? Had they always been there?? You didn't know. You didn't know what day it was. What year it was. If you looked up and blinked properly, you would see you and your boyfriend chatting and laughing happily on that bench by the alleyway.

"You're my soda pop~"

"My little soda pop~"

They were quite the lookers, you could see that beyond your grief. You looked up properly now. The music was good-- not good good, but offered that temptation. That deceit. They weren't sweet like they appeared. They were dripping in their own misery. Just like you were. Even more so.

Everything was heightened to the max-- their looks, too good to be real. Body proportions inhuman. Their movements, too fluid and synchronized to be human. They were all in synergy as if joined by one life force.. Their overly bright outfits matching to perfection. Every last inch of them-- their movements-- their charms-- were perfect.

It caught your attention for a minute, then you looked away, disinterested again.

Gotta get to that party. Gotta forget.

They better have good booze.

You stalked off, not noticing the five men who still stood on that make-shift stage. Finished with their performance, staring after you like abandoned, volatile dogs. Staring after the woman who'd just casually looked past their cheerful human façades, seen the ugliness that lurked inside, identified with it, and calmly walked off. Like she hadn't just gained five fresh demon idols pining after her.

"Who's she?" Abby leant an elbow on Baby's shoulder, who for once didn't shrug away. His large, deceitfully doe-like eyes still fixated on the retreating figure of you in the distance.

"Didn't even stick around to watch like the rest," Romance snickered, a hand subconsciously running through Mystery's blueish-grey locks.

Jinu's eyes flashed molten gold. "She saw. I felt it. She knows what we are."

"And she just left??" Romance reasoned, bewildered.

"She doesn't care." Baby's calm voice of melted caramel murmured. There was unmistakable intrigue in his voice. Alot of it. Perhaps even surpassing intrigue into something else-- a liking.

"Gwi-ma will go crazy if he finds out a human knows about us." Abby chuckled. Jinu bit the inside of his cheek.

⌗☾︎ ‧₊˚ ︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶⋅₊˚☽︎⌗

You were drunk. To say that would be an understatement. No one could see it at first glance. But you had that slight stumble. In your high heels, you couldn't walk in a completely straight line.

But you were on cloud nine. A smile on your face. Successfully, you had forgotten your woes in the lovely embrace of expensive chardonnay.

You grunted, holding your hand out for a taxi on the side of the road. It wizzed on right past you. Asshole.

You subconsciously stumbled backwards, only for the back of your head to bump against a solid chest. You turned. There stood a man. Black hair, pale skin. His facial features, height, even expression, were all a blur to you. He had black hair and pale skin, the typical traits of a Korean male. The very same as your late boyfriend.

He looked like your boyfriend. You reached up, small hands hooking around the collar of whatever sort of top he was wearing. You pulled.

Jinu complied without thinking. He never would bend to anyone's will. But something about your cute little smile. Those flushed cheeks. Your dark, soft looking hair. More than anything, those dark, blissful eyes. They were beautiful, unclear, but still beautiful.

But how was he to react, when, next thing he knew your plumpy lips were on his?? Moving too. Sucking, licking. He went rigid. It was like a trigger was pulled. His face heated up. This girl. This small, beautiful, dumb little thing was kissing him in such a-- an aggressive, but soft, delicate way.

You pulled away before he could even comprehend fully the kiss, your small arms wrapping around him as you sobbed into his chest.

"Ah-- Hangyeol-- I missed you!! My baby, my love...you came back to me!!"

Ah, she had someone else written in her heart. And she had clearly just... mistaken him for that guy. Lucky guy...Jinu felt a sudden urge to kill that guy. Wherever he was.

"Nothing's been the same. I'm doing everything the same but nothing really is-!"

His hands came up behind her back. And slowly, very hesitantly, he patted your back soothingly.

"Fuck...did she just do what I think she..." Abby voices silently from behind the corner, watching in awe.

"Little minx." Romance grunted roughly, but he was smiling. Very wide. He wanted that. He wanted that little lady's lips on his as well. No matter what. And he knew that for a fact, he wouldn't rest until he got it.

He didn't know why he felt this way. To what he owed this new rush of... sensation. Of feeling that wasn't misery or shame but... something else. Something refreshing and new and sweet.

Judging by the looks of the rest of them, especially Jinu, the victim of your kiss, Romance knew it was the very same as himself.

"Say somethin'...wanna hear your voice so badly..." You heard the words leaving your completely wasted mouth, muffled, as you completely buried your face in the oddly large expanse of your man's chest.

"I'm not... Hangyeol--"

You pulled him down again and started smacking kisses all over his face.

Five minutes later, you wiped your mouth. Your boyfriend's face was still blurry to you, but this time it was covered in these lip-shaped red stains.

Oh...you did that?? You giggled, wasted out of your mind.

He lifted you off of your feet. And you threw your arms right around him. Inhibitions who?

"We gotta get her somewhere safe."

"Woah, Jinu, we said we were gonna figure out what she knows...not, y'know, get it on with her..." Abby's voice grated on his already frayed nerves. Jinu had no idea why your kiss had and was affecting him so badly.

"Yeah, and damn, now you wanna keep her safe as well??" Romance questioned in bewilderment.

Baby on the other hand was silently laughing his ass off at the state of Jinu's face. Debauched, covered in bright red lipstick prints. Even Mystery, standing beside him, couldn't help but crack a grin.

Romance wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. The want. The jealousy. The feeling that went beyond the usual wanting to toy around with humans and into something real.

"If I was him I'd never want to wash my face."

The other boyband members paused momentarily and seemed to decide that they too didn't really want to deny what they felt towards her anymore. They nodded in agreement.

Jinu gave away nothing, but insisted on having her head in his lap on the drive home. And though he could have cleansed his face within a second using magic, he didn't.

Romance, who was usually devoid of any emotion on rides home, now had this huge stupid smile on his face that he couldn't wipe off. As did Abby.

"We need to keep her." Baby demanded childishly.

Mystery, who had her feet in his lap, slowly stroked up your legs. Enamoured. "She's so small." He whispered.

When you woke up, your head was pounding. You felt like crying. This wasn't new by any means-- waking up in this random place that you went to with some random man you thought was yours the night before.

It was humiliating, mostly. Partially, enraging.

It was a small punishment, the way you clawed the back of your hand briefly before forcing your eyes open.

Ohhhh shit. Well this was... different.

You were in bed. A particularly large one. When you looked around, the bedroom was too opulent. Too...grandiose for your liking.

Had you landed yourself into a celebrity's bed by accident? It was a thought of jest. But the slight mirth slipped from your sleep-addled brain once the door swung open and you saw who stood at the entrance.

....Who was he again?? You squinted, small form now propped up by the elbows in the middle of the huge bed. You'd seen him somewhere. Dancing, specifically. Purple hair, cropped shirt, showing perfect six-packs. Huge shoulders. You wracked your brain.

Ah fuck it, too much effort.

But you still glared at him, dissapointed in yourself.

This? This was the dude you mistook for your plain and special boyfriend? This six-foot-four mountain of disaster looking guy??

But then, something you hadn't expected in the least happens. Another one steps in. Unlike this tall purple haired handsome monster, he was small. Taller than you, but next to Mr. Abs, he looked like just a baby. His hair was a pastel matcha, eyes big, face shorter and less defined.

"She's awake." The baby one spoke- his voice was surprisingly deep and strong for how he looked.

Another one sauntered in the room just as the smaller one stepped inside. This other one was slightly taller. But slender. His face was covered by this curtain of silky hair. You'd think that sorta hair only suited anime cartoon characters-- but somehow, this guy pulled it off. Just like his look, he exuded a mysterious aura as well.

"She's up!!?" This fourth one was fucking loud and you gave a full body flinch when this pink haired mullet dude stumbled in. His pretty eyes looked around and landed on you. You hiccuped, backing up as he advanced towards you.

They were all very handsome. You'd seen them before somewhere. If only their hair didn't have the colors of the rainbow you'd be able to take them seriously.

"Don't tell me..." Your voice was hoarse. They all paused as if they were hearing the call of a siren, "... you're kpop idols or something?"

"How'd you know?" The last man was inquisitive. When you saw him, you realized who exactly you'd mistaken for your boyfriend.

It was this tall guy. As tall as Mr. Abs. With hair as black as midnight and dark eyes to match. That burned hot with the heat of a million suns as he looked directly at you.

You weren't deterred, somehow. Maybe because, after losing Hangyeol, you didn't really care for anything anymore. He'd been half your personality. Now you just felt nothing. All you wanted to do now was go home and curl up alone on your couch.

"Because-- look at your hair. And your faces."

"You find us handsome~?"

"AHHHH!!" You backed away from the pink haired dude who'd somehow spawned right up next to you without your noticing. Your small form was about to collide with the floor but you quickly turned and landed on your palms and knees.

Wary, you stood up. They watched as if in awe as you brushed yourself off. "I'm sorry for any trouble that I caused yesterday. But I'll be off now."

So small. So fiesty and guarded and yet so clever and polite you were. You were talking through a sobered up alcohol addled system and yet your gaze was full of clarity.

"Fuck," Jinu cursed. Did you not see how stunning you looked? Your cheeks were flushed from that deep sleep. Your lips swollen from biting. Long hair tousled. You stood on those slender legs in this fancy human house and you didn't even care about the state you were in front of THE Saja Boys.

And most of all, your eyes. That stare. You could still see past whatever normal, cheerful façade they had up. But you still couldn't be bothered to look deeper into it.

You stepped forward to reach for your bag, that lay on the nightstand, but then you realized. The pink haired man in the bed had his abnormally large hand around your wrist. You glared at his hand, then shifted your glare up at his handsome face, framed perfectly with those silky pink curls and wisps.

"Let go o'me."

"Do you not wanna know who we are? What we are? Our names?"

He slowly brought your hand up to his mouth, laying a kiss on your knuckles before nuzzling your palm,"I'm Roman. You kissed Jinu. Can't you kiss me too?" Kissed WHO?

He was reverent. You were creeped out. They were all steadily inching closer and closer.

"You're talking too much. Gonna scare her off." Baby snapped. His oversized pastel sweater slipped off a slender shoulder as he came to wrap his arms around you and rest his chin atop your head. You grunted in alarm, squirming, trying to pull away.

However handsome they were, they were still strangers. Also belying his looks and frame, the baby-looking one was strong. Too strong. His arms actually didn't even budge, acting as metal vices around your smaller form.

"Are we supposed to be sucking up to her??" Abby spoke rather confusedly. But his tone was lighthearted too. Despite being a demon, he couldn't bring himself to harbour any sort of dislike towards you.

"I didn't mean to kiss anybody." You blurted. You had an idea of who Jinu was. The smirk on the tall ravenette's face didn't go unnoticed.

"Ah, but do you know who we are? We're the Saja Boys. Second on the charts to Huntrix. And you laid a hand on the leader." Jinu almost mocked, but with a serious undertone.

You were mortified, "I was drunk,"

The midnight-haired man seemingly wasn't interested in arguing semantics, "We won't sue. On one condition." He was growing more and more intrigued by the second. You'd captivated all his band members. And at his imminent threat, you didn't even flinch. You were acting like you had nothing to lose. Just like he didn't.

"Stay here and answer some questions for us." He was cajoling, not demanding. And you didn't know why. Kpop idols had to appear nice and kind to the public but you knew that wasn't really what all of them were.

Especially these ones. They had the darkness. You were familiar with that darkness from when you lost the only thing that had ever made you happy. Your boyfriend.

"Okay, how long will it take?"

"That's for us to know and for you to find out," Abby snickered before Roman effortlessly tugged you back into the silk sheets.

𝐓𝐁𝐂

[warthogreporter]

A second look at the human fucker community on monster tumblr

🧜‍♀️ Hermaid Follow

After a while you start to notice some trends in how people talk about fucking their hoomans

Vampires: This is Brother Reginald Regicus Regicum who I slowly corrupted and tempted with earthly desires across several long years until he became a creature of the night like myself. We're throwing his one year vampirization party in a month, here's the invite, if you don't come it's a personal insult, to me.

Orcs: This is Himby the Himbo who I snagged in some raid I did because I got bored on my way to the grocery store. It's funny when I make him wear cat ears.

🐻 Beard-Toucher Follow

Demons: These are Sir Good and Sir Goody. I make them wear matching collars because of how they were all but boyfriends before I enthralled them with my dark magic. You noticed their matching collars right?

Werewolves: You'll never believe this, but my human Stucky, who used to be called Lady Stuck Up, was actually a repressed and stuck up person before I helped her embrace her wild side TM.

🐍 Scaled-Scales-Scaling-Scales Follow

Naga: ...Anyway after spending 400,000 years praying I finally met the human who is the love of my life and we recited mantras together, after 200,000,000 years of this we began to *blushes* hold hands and then the gods...

Other kinds of dragons: This is King Dragonslayer the Unfucked. I use him as a display stand for my jewels when not fucking him.

(164,597 Notes)

🐙 WetterThanYou Follow

Showing the humans parts of their world they've never seen (the depths).

(9,846 Notes)

🐎 Seventaur-deactivated20230527 Follow

Man humans really are such pathetic creatures

🐎 Seventaur-deactivated20230527 Follow

Stop reblogging this as a human fucker post! I advocate for exterminating those pests! It's literally in my bio! Human Fuckers DNI!

👿PazuzuOfficial✅ Follow

Hey OP we need to 'talk' IRL. Don't bother turning on your location, I already know it.

(369 Notes)

🐺 HereWolf Follow

Seeing elves in human fucker communities is always such a "bro thinks he's on the team" moment. Oh yeah you're so different from humans with your pointy ears and... oh right that's literally it.

🛣️Elf-Hater Follow

Elves are like humans but lame and pretentious, even lame and pretentious humans are better. Eying a 'human' only to notice pointy ears is like biting into a blueberry muffin thinking it's a chocolate muffin, if blueberries tasted like shit.

🧝Elfeven Follow

🥺

🪓Orcasionally-Really-Cranky Follow

If it makes you feel better I fuck both humans and elves, just got back from a raid where I scored plenty of elves to make into my obedient little whores.

🧝Elfeven Follow

That doesn't make me feel better.

(685,734 Notes)

🦅Feathery Follow

Finally going to an actual human town. What do human eggs look like? Don't want to cause any problems by mistake.

🦋 Gregory-Grigori Follow

People on this webbed site will really just say anything about hoomans huh?

🐂 No-Yournotaur Follow

OP, humans don't lay eggs. It's weird that you thought they did. They're mammals.

🦅Feathery Follow

I thought they were like platypi no need to get up my ass about this

🐂 No-Yournotaur Follow

Okay you know what fair.

(5,873 Notes)

🦋 Gregory-Grigori Follow

I'd say good morning, but I didn't wake up with a beautiful human on each side of me so actually it was yet another mid morning.

(4,384 Notes)

Click here for part 1 and here for part 3 and here for the Christmas special

[valentinedrifter]

Days with Somi: Expression

male reader x Jeon Somi

~13.9k words

A/N: I apologize if the plot (there's plot?) doesn't make sense because all the recent Somi pics got me dented in the head.

Thanks to @suchsweetstories for the beta read!

Enjoy.

Jeon Somi loves having sex. 

Specifically, having sex with you.

You call it her ‘love language’. Her way to shower you with affection. Which you have to admit, for someone like Somi, checks off all of the boxes.

Receiving Gifts? Being able to fuck her on the daily is a gift itself. Especially when she offers up anal.

Physical Touch? You can spank her ass and grope her tits and she’d tell you to do it again. She even encourages you to do it as much as you want.

Quality Time? She’d fuck you anywhere if she gets in the mood. Your apartment, her apartment, the fast food restaurant’s bathroom, your car in a public parking lot. The post-sex cuddles you have with her are amazing too.

Words of Affirmation? Her screams of, quote: “Fuck, yes, more–” are enough to push you to go harder. She’s also expressing her appreciation of how good you’re pounding her pussy.

Acts of Service? Either she wakes you up with a blowjob or you wake her up by eating her out. It usually ends with one–sometimes both–of you being late to work. It’s one hell of an alarm clock though.

Sex has become a pivotal portion of your life ever since you started seeing her for a couple of months now. And it’s not like you’d ever say no to doing it with Somi. You made that mistake once, and while it was…an experience, you’d rather not have to call in sick because she fucked you too hard. 

It’s the fact that sex is the only consistent way she shows her feelings for you that makes it feel a little bit superficial. 

She comes over to your apartment angry at how the latest batch of makeup she made was shipped to the wrong address? She won’t ask you for comforting hugs, she’ll tell you to push her legs over her head and dick her down till she can’t walk. 

You get frustrated over the new Return-To-Office policy your job announced because the office is an hour drive? She won’t say a word, just pull your pants down and squeeze your cock in between her tits.

You won’t lie, sex with Somi is Grade A, Top Tier, Perfection. You’ll never get tired of her body, her moans, her willingness to do anything. What you are tired of, is the absence of romance—for the lack of a better term—in your life.

Not in the physical way, no, she already gives you enough to last a lifetime. It’s that the emotional link that you feel was starting to degrade.

You want to be able to do the whole “Netflix and Chill” bit without it ending in the couch getting wet. To be embracing her as you wake up in the mornings. To spend the day doing nothing together.

And it wasn’t like she doesn’t say the words that you’ve been wanting to hear, because she does. She just says it with ‘your cock’ instead of ‘you’ a lot more than you’d like.

You’re starting to think that this is becoming more casual, something to scratch her itch, some sort of fuck buddy set up instead of as a couple. Maybe when this relationship with Somi was still at its infancy would you consider that type of deal–purely physical–because that’s what this was built on.

Thinking back, it’s how it’s always been. Even as she first approached you at the bar you two met. She ordered what you had—a shot of whiskey—and started off with small talk. You two got to know each other, and you may have had a few too many shots that made your lips a bit looser. 

That’s why when you drunkenly tell her that she was hot in that white crop top she was wearing, and that you wanted to lick the alcohol off her stomach, all she does is smirk. The next words she said sobered you straight up.

“When and where?”

And that’s how you ended up playing body shots inside her apartment. It started off innocent enough. Well, as innocent as playing the sort of game that inevitably gets you both drunk and fucked.

You two kept in touch after that night. After a week or so of trading messages and a few racy pics from her, she invited you to meet up again.

This is when the cycle began. One of you invites the other to meet up for something, you do said something, and you two end up doing each other after. Then it happens again.

Somewhere along the way feelings were aired out and you two started to see each other more seriously. At the same time, railing Somi into any nearby surface became a 9-5 job.

Yet you can’t help but want more than that.

To be honest, you might be overthinking things. Maybe you should have sat her down, talked like two responsible adults, and figured out whatever’s happening between you two—really just you—before it got out of hand.

So you do the responsible move. Ask a friend for advice. 

Although, you might have asked the wrong person.

“You’re overthinking things.” Aeri deadpans, taking a sip of her drink.

“I’m not overthinking it.” You deny. “I’m just…stressing about it.”

“That’s the same thing.” 

“Look, are you gonna help out or not?” You scowl, crossing your arms.

“Fine. But you’re presenting to the boss next week.” She sighs, dramatically placing her drink down on the table. “Here’s what you do–”

The next hour becomes a weird lecture consisting of Aeri laying out an entire thesis of plans on how to woo Somi with your heart and not with your dick. You needed to note it all down just to make sure you didn’t miss anything.

After some planning and finalizing some dates, you settled on a beach trip. It was ordinary, casual, relaxing. A chance to have fun without too many shenanigans involved. You can even take her to the nearby festival that’s going to take place for some celebration too.

Of course, the trip being with Somi makes that a pipe dream. 

Day one was mostly spent on actually getting to the venue, getting a feel for the area, and checking into the hotel. 

And everything was going great. It was all going according to plan. After you take a break from all the driving you’ve done you told yourself that you’d take her out to see the tourist spots.

Said break is how you two end up at the hotel’s restaurant, enjoying the cuisine of different nations, the aroma of delicacies, the sound of the piano fluttering across the air. You had to veto room service because no breaks and no eating would happen otherwise.

“Oh my God.” The clattering of metal hitting ceramic fills the table. “I’m so full.” Somi’s slouched over the chair, hand over her stomach as you finish up your own plate.

“You did get two plates worth of dumplings.” You shrug, stabbing your fork down on a leaf. “And the crab too.”

“But it was so good.” She’s justifying, arms out across the table. “I kinda want more.”

“And make your ass explode all over the bathroom later?”

“Fuck you.” She laughs, throwing a napkin at your face. “Like you won’t be doing that later.”

“O–kay.” You exasperate, gesturing down. “Not in front of my salad.”

“Come on.” Her chin’s resting on a hand, tilting her head as she smirks. And it’s that smirk, that fucking smirk, that always precedes your downfall to the drug that is Somi. 

Ruining her is usually an eventuality, especially given that you’re going to be alone with her for the next few days. But this time, you will not falter. You remind yourself why you’re here, what the point of this entire trip was about. That this is to show her how much you–

Oh Goddamnit.

Somi’s finger is on her tank top, stretching the fabric outwards. Her tits are practically squished together, making them a lot more bigger than they already are. Then she pulls down, and you find out that she wasn’t wearing a bra this entire time. You also find out that the only thing that was on her boobs were a pair of nipple tape covering her buds.

“You sure you don’t want to?” Her finger’s moving across her top, showing you more of that milky white skin, and she knows that you’re getting hooked. “I even brought lube.”

“Somi-” Your hand springs up, slapping her hand away and pulling her top back up in one smooth motion. “I thought we said no funny business outside the hotel.”

“We’re still in the hotel aren’t we?” Of course she’s gonna pull semantics at you. “Just a little quickie before we head out for the festival.”

The line’s set, and you’re tugging it. “You just can’t help yourself, can you.” 

She’s lifting her arms above her head, emphasizing her chest, her tight clothing rising with it to show her stomach, defined and toned from all the yoga lessons she’s been doing. You unconsciously grip the table sheets.

“I just wanna show my appreciation for my sweet, sweet boyfriend-” She’s reeling you in, hard, and you inevitably let yourself be swept away. “-who set up this entire trip and drove me all the way here so early in the morning.”

You’re thinking of happy thoughts, the logistics of the rest of the trip that you have yet to do with her, the caesar salad that you’ve been enjoying. Anything to stop yourself from appreciating the view right in front of you because this is getting out of hand.

The chair screeches. “So whenever you’re done here,” Somi’s standing up, giving you a very nice view of her cleavage as she does. “I’ll be heading back up and getting myself ready.” That smirk is still on her face when she leans in. “Maybe if you’re fast enough you can have a piece of my ass.”

Your resolve is officially gone, the idea of having Somi’s sweet, tight ass once more becoming too tempting as she walks away, waving her keycard at you like it was some sort of prize. Your eyes are glued to her waist moving from side to side.

Sinker.

—

You had to sit and wave at the waiter to pay for the food. Normally you’d go right up to the cashier to do that but a particular brunette made it hard to stand up. Once you manage to get up from your seat without your hard-on in full display to the other patrons, you immediately speed walk it to the elevator. 

You’re falling back into the same repetition of Somi causing trouble, dragging you to another round of debauchery. You already tried to set ground rules by only doing it inside the hotel, but you suppose you’ll need to re-negotiate it to just being in the hotel room.

Which, thinking on it, was where you were going. Sigh.

She’s irresistible, and she knows it. Shit, she flaunts it whenever she can around you because she knows you’ll give in eventually.

Maybe you can slip in one dose of Jeon Somi’s tight ass before you move on with your plan to take her out for a romantic date. Considering the plan’s already screwed up as it is, all cause Somi—and by extension, you—decided to have some fun. 

Though, you really should stop this. Say no. Sounded simple enough. Just one word. Lay it out flat.

But the seed’s already planted. The picture of her in your hotel room, waiting, naked, touching herself, prepping for all the dirty things you’ll be doing to her; Your inhibitions get shot to pieces.

You already know what’s going to happen when you walk through that door. She’ll be somewhere in the room—the balcony, you bet—ready for you to ravish her. And for all intents and purposes, you might as well enjoy the detour.

Soon as you open the door to your hotel room, the TV’s blaring out music and the bathroom door’s open. You take your shoes off before walking up to the doorway to be greeted with the unholy sight of Somi.

Naked, leaned into the bathroom counter where she uses the mirror to glance at you, her ass swaying as one of her hands are in between her legs and the other resting on the cold marble right next to a clear little bottle.

“Hey there.” She sighs out. “Just–finishing up.” Her eyes are fluttering shut, two fingers pumping into her puckered hole, already knuckle deep at this point. Somi knows the drill when it comes to preparing herself for anal; she has it down to a science at this point.

Her hand slides over to the bottle, pushing it towards you as a silent suggestion before she ruffles her hair, making her all the more ruinable. You’re shaking your head, but you step behind her anyway, unbuckling your belt in the process.

“Always a tease.” You’re pulling your pants down, your boxers following after to let your cock feel the cold air of the bathroom.

“Like you don’t love it.” She replies, orbs blinking open, looking at you through the mirror with fuck me eyes as she pulls her hand away from her hole. “Ready when you are.”

You’re applying an ample amount of lube onto your cock, stroking to help cover your entire shaft as you move closer, resting yourself on her ass. “You’re excited.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’ve been horny ever since we got in the car.” 

You scoff. “You’re always horny.” 

She laughs. “Who wouldn’t when you have that cock–” Your tip’s pressing against her asshole, making her unable to reply as she feels you push into her. It’s splitting her open, her tight, slick ass taking you in slowly.

“Hurry up.” She’s taking deep, steady breaths as she presses back onto your cock, adjusting to the feeling of your cock inside her, taking even more of you as you grip her hips. As you bottom out, she lets out a groan, smiling through the pain of taking your entire dick up her ass.

“You’re getting impatient.” A hand lifts up from her hip to grab one of her breasts, squeezing the soft flesh. “Thought you’d wanna take your time.”

“You still gotta take me to that festival.” She moans out as you’re pulling out slowly, letting her get used to your size before you stretch her out again. She clenches around you, impossibly tight, as you slowly begin to buck into her. “And I wanna get to–Fuck, that’s it–get to the beach too.”

She loops one of her hands around her neck as a harness, pulling herself up to give you a kiss. “So as much as I want to enjoy this–“ Another sigh slips out of her, the pleasure slowly erasing any of the pain that she’s feeling. “–You need to dick me down, fast, so we can enjoy our vacation.”

You smile, dipping down to pepper kisses around her neck. “Something we agree on, babe.” Your thrusts progressively get faster into her, enjoying the feel of her ass, the lube doing wonders for the both of you as she braces herself once more on the counter.

She’s so unbelievably snug, the feel of her abs flexing on your hand as she sucks you in so much easier now, the wet, sticky, warm hole overtaking your mind as you get to pounding her asshole.

”Fucking missed this ass, didn’t you?” She’s watching you over the reflection, your gaze laser focused on the bounce of her ass. It was hypnotizing, seeing it recoil from how hard you’re ramming your cock into her. 

“I never say no to your ass.” You grunt out, gripping her hip a bit firmer, squeezing her tit a bit harder, hammering a bit faster as you enjoy hearing her whimper your name out, her hand shooting up to hold onto yours as she shifts her body to lean into you instead.

”Then ruin my ass–“ She’s grinning, squeezing her breast over your hand. Her other hand is moving back down between her legs again, circling her clit, adding even more to the bliss she’s feeling. “–ruin it for anyone else.”

You oblige, hand crashing down on her ass before you grip her again, near the small of her back this time as you get rougher, thrusts getting more frantic as she starts to sing all these filthy words out.

“God, love you in my ass. Love it when you stretch my ass out, filling me, breaking me.” She’s on a tangent, muttering out all these porn star-y lines as if she is one, and honestly? She can probably make bank if all she had to do was take dick. “Gonna–Gonna make me your whore, aren’t you? Make me take your cock in all my tight fucking holes till I can’t fucking walk anymore–”

A sharp crack airs out, followed by a chuckle, slow, breathy, enticing. Her tongue’s out, tracing her lips. “Do it again. Slap my ass some more.”

And you do it. God do you do it. Your palm’s leaving hard slaps on her skin, leaving it with red marks that gets her even more fucked up as she watches, mouth widening at how much you’re utterly obsessed with her and her ass.

“Only think about cock nowadays don’t you, you stupid bitch.” You pinch a bud, giving her another slap on the ass. Whether she tightens up from the slap or the degrading nickname, you can only guess. “Guess it’s a good thing you’re getting mine.”

”Yes, love your cock–“ Somi’s rubbing herself faster now, fingers getting desperate as you slam harder into her hole, unrelenting. “Own this ass–” Her eyes are rolling back, her entire body starts to tremble, losing herself as she grips the counter again, letting herself be used like a doll. 

”Oh, fuck–“ She lets out this scream, raw, husky as liquid starts to drip out of her, dripping down her legs all the way to the tiles. Her head slacks downward, eyes shutting, her ass somehow gets even more vice-like than you thought it could get, making you murmur out a curse, reluctantly pulling out of her ass to stop yourself from following her.

Her fingers are persistent, working her clit when you spread her ass, looking at her gaping hole. You grip your shaft, lowering it down to her pussy, slick from her cum, dragging it up and down, the feeling of her heat making you wet your lips.

She shudders when you push inside her cunt, legs still shaking as you bury deep inside her. Her ass may have been tighter, but the feeling of her pussy being so much more slicker and the way it was radiating heat makes you groan out.

“Miss my pussy too?” She purrs, using the mirror to look at the both of you. Her hair’s a mess, brown strands sticking out all over the place, tongue playfully peeking out as that damn smirk forms on her mouth while you start fucking her.

“Just getting a taste.” You’re wrapping your arms around her, locking eyes with Somi through the glass as you lean in to whisper in her ear. “Promise to cum inside your ass.”

She grins, leaning back, mouth dropping open as you start to pick up the pace, her  body rocking forward every time you get balls deep inside of her. “You better. Want that cum filling up my ass, baby.”

You’re still focused on her face, from the way her eyes are rolling back again, from how rough you pummel into her, her mouth that’s panting out moans and begging for more of you, your cock, your cum. Her gaze never loses sight of you, watching you pound her into the marble.

Then you feel it. That all-familiar stirring in your balls, making you go feral, and she can sense it too, by how she pushes back against your hips, letting her take you for a ride.

You’re holding onto her tits, squeezing the soft flesh, rolling her nipples between your fingers, tugging at them, while Somi’s grounding herself by the counter as she’s bucking, grinding her ass against you whenever she takes you all in.

Her ass is fucking unbelievable to look at, soft, firm, bouncing with this rhythm that edges you closer to the end. The slaps of her backside hitting your pelvis is all you can hear, fueling you further to bursting. That tightness in your balls is building, the feel of her wet, hot pussy sending you to the deep end before you spill inside her.

“Gonna cum, Somi, fuck–” You lock up, going for one last push to cross the finish line as you send it, deep, filling her completely with your length.

The pressure breaks, hands sliding down to hold onto her curves, locking her in place as you cum, shooting up her pussy, the few hot spurts painting her walls. Then you remember where you’re supposed to cum, and pull out abruptly. Cum’s still leaking out as you press your tip into her asshole, flooding her pucker with your load.

“That’s it.” She stills, moaning in tune with every pulse of your cock, filling her ass, rolling her hips as you thrust, stuffing her with cock, giving her every bit of your cum. “So much hot, fucking cum all inside me.”

You slump over Somi, resting your head by her nape, completely spent and she’s glowing. As if your cum was some sort of energy drink that invigorates her, looking like she wasn’t pounded into the bathroom sink. 

“So–” She plants this sloppy kiss on your cheek, a snicker coming out of her as she rests her head on yours. “My ass still as good as you remember?”

“Always.” You sigh out, pulling out of her and drawing her into your arms. “Now shut up and let me have this moment.”

Her lips curve upwards, air scoffing out through her nose as she leans into you, running a hand through your hair, damp from your past actions. She leaves another kiss on your shoulder, soft, loving.

“This is nice,” she mutters out, nestling underneath you.

You hum in agreement, seeing yourself smiling over the reflection of the mirror.

Even if you two have done this so many times, you’d never get tired of having Somi in your arms.

—

After the bathroom incident, you both took a shower—separately, of course, you didn’t want any more unpredicted scenes happening—and walked to the nearby festival. Fucking about in the short trip to the venue was something you’d expect coming from her.

“Why is the festival so far away from the beach?” Somi’s fixing her bucket hat, using the nearby window of a cafe as a mirror. “You said that it was nearby.”

“It is.” You place a hand on the small of her back, steering her away from the window where people were definitely watching her model for free. “It’s a ten minute walk.”

“That’s ten minutes too long though-” And the countdown’s at five. You’re rushing her to the crossing, guiding her out of any more trouble. “-and my feet are starting to hurt.”

“Somi, we just got out of the hotel.” You deadpan. “And how does your feet hurt in All-Stars?” You stop at the other side, turning your head to face her.

“Because you’re walking too fast, jackass.” She pouts. It’s not something you see everyday from her. “Slow down a bit, enjoy the scenery.”

You know what she meant by ‘scenery’. It was Somi-speak for ‘Let’s find a place for a quickie’. One more way to derail this break you’ve planned for weeks. And you were not gonna fall for it a second time.

“Somi.” Your voice is stern, calling her out on her bullshit. “Seriously, not outside.”

She rolls her eyes, lips jutting out just enough for it to look adorably pissed off. “It’s just a joke–”

“No, it wasn’t.” You cut her off. “I know you. And that’s not a joke.”

Some would think you’re being too harsh on her. Normally, you’d agree. But you need to put your foot down this time. The glare on your face surprises her, like she wasn’t expecting you to push back on something that’s become the norm in your relationship.

She’s a walking trouble magnet. Anytime, anywhere. It didn’t matter if it was a risky fuck in a public bathroom or getting fingered at a park. If she wants to get off, she’ll more than likely drag you to it. She usually expects you to follow through. Do whatever type of fucking on whatever surface is nearby. 

You can tell she doesn’t like hearing it. It was foreign. Unfamiliar territory that she’s stepped on. Wasn’t like you want to say it either, because you don’t. But Somi was pushing, even with that ‘hotel only’ rule-thing in place. 

Somi knows it. She had to. It’s why she hasn’t said anything. Only stared, searching, sighing. You know you’ve won when she adjusts her bucket hat and purses her lips together.

“You’re no fun today.” She says, wrapping her arms around yours, hiding her face from your gaze, and mutters something you barely heard.

“...But I get it.”

You let air come out through your nose, and relax just a tiny bit. Enough for her to know that you’re not truly mad, and maybe a tad bit disappointed. Her arms tighten their grip. She exhales, dramatic, exaggerated, theatrical.

“I hope you know that you owe me one later.” Her smirk is creeping back onto her face, the teasing coming back in full swing. And perhaps, even a bit of understanding slipping in.

“Yeah, yeah.” You shake your head, giving her an amused little smile. “Put it on the tab.”

She giggles, leaning into your side as you continue walking. Her head turns.

“Is that coconut?” She asks, leaning just a bit more to smell your scent.

“Yeah, why?” You’re turning a corner, a small sign pointing to the festival’s venue stuck on a wall.

“Nothing.” She gets comfy in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder. “Smells nice, is all.”

This is nice too; Quiet, comfortable, enjoying each other’s company.

Until you feel it. The crowd getting thicker, the chatter and the footsteps matching the beat of the traditional drums. You felt livelier, hell, the entire place felt alive, and the smell of mouthwatering, rich, smoky, meat enters you.

Rows upon rows of food stalls are lined up; The sizzling meat, the cold boba, the multitude of grub tempting you to take part in it.

“Oh my God.” Somi lets go of your arm, slipping downward to hold your hand instead. Her stare is darting, left, right, looking between the display of delicious delights. She feels warm. “We are so eating first.”

“I thought you said you were full.”

“After what we did earlier, I need a little pick me up.” She’s dragging you to the nearby booth, the aroma of sweet, sweet meat filling your nostrils, and by God you wanted one too.

Sausages, kebabs, fishcakes. Everything looked so good you can’t choose where to start. It’s a good thing Somi does, as she takes a skewer of pork—maybe beef? You weren’t sure—and a cup of fishcakes, already pulling out change from her handbag to pay the vendor, giving her thanks while she’s at it.

She turns to you, already taking a bite of her skewer, taking the top piece off before she practically moans.

“This is sho good.” She’s shameless with the food, swiping her tongue to get the sauce off her lips, the sounds coming out of her bordering pornographic, getting her the occasional odd stare from others. “You want some?”

Shit, if the smell didn’t tempt you, the way she ate the meat would have.

She’s offering you the stick, and you were about to take it off her hands before she pulls it away, an “uh-uh” coming out disapprovingly. 

“What?” You ask, looking back at her, head tilted, giving you a look. She holds it up one more time, closer to your mouth this time. 

Your eyes cycle back and forth from hers to the stick, trying to figure if there’s some sort of ulterior motive that Somi’s trying to pull. But seeing her round ebony globes turn to crescents, face grinning, brows wagging lets you know that she really does want to feed you her meat. 

Your breath catches briefly before you let out this airy laugh. This doesn’t feel remotely close to the Somi you know, but you’re enjoying it either way.

“Unbelievable.” You mutter out, leaning in to bite the cube of flesh off the stick, chewing it slowly, savoring the flavor of the meat—definitely pork—and the sweet taste of the sauce it was dipped on before Somi bought it off the stall.

“Told you it’s good.” She’s already smug about it, finishing up the skewer before she uses the stick to dig into the fishcakes. “Almost as good as yours.”

“Did–did you just compare me to pork?” 

“Yours is still the best, babe.” She’s smirking, putting a piece of cake into her mouth before walking away. “Let’s go see what else is on the menu.”

You two move through the area, trying out whatever peaks catches your interest, like those fish bread that had bean paste inside, some fried dumplings, and a bowl of spicy ramen that you could get for free if you ate it within the set time limit. 

Both you and Somi left that shop a few bills short and egos bruised.

Your tongue is scorching from the heat and spices of whatever monstrosity of a ramen bowl you just ate, half tempted to take off your jacket while you’re at it and Somi’s wiping a tear from her eye, huffing short breaths. Just trying to recover from how fucking spicy the noodles were, and trying to salvage any shred of pride you two have.

“I think I’m dying.” She hisses out, fanning her face with her bucket hat. “We need milk or something. Anything. Just–what the fuck was in that ramen–just needs to be cold.”

You're scanning the nearby stalls, trying to find something that can alleviate this flame burning your mouths. Ice cream, shakes, something freezing. You’d take plain old water if it was kept frozen for hours on end.

Then you see it. Squeezed between two vendors, condensation dripping down the glass dispenser, ice and lemons floating over the body of water within. You can feel how cold it is from a mile away. It’s a Godsend, a light to guide you out of this hell, and Somi sees it too, speed walking towards the kiosk with you right behind her.

As soon as you approach the owner, he’s already preparing cups as if he knows everyone who’s tried the ramen came to his stall. Freezing cubes, citrusy yellow fruits, chilly H2O, all combined into a concoction that would bring forth paradise to the inside of your lips.

Somi doesn’t bother with a straw, she just pops the lid open and starts chugging it down while you’re still paying for your drinks, saying your thanks as you start drinking your own plastic cup. It’s refreshing, dousing the blaze in icy cold liquid.

The lemonade does its job, allowing a respite to finally breathe again. Somi’s already finished her drink, wiping her lips with the back of her hand, letting out a laugh.

“We’re checking every instant ramen pack we buy after that.” She says, shaking her head, blowing air through her mouth, still feeling the effects of the noodles. You let out this hum of agreement, too occupied with the bliss of the cold refreshment.

“Oh yeah.” You finally sigh out, licking your lips. “That was worse than your cooking.”

She swats your arm, light but firm enough to make you almost drop your juice. 

“My cooking’s great!” Her brows furrow, cheeks puffing out.

“Exactly. That was made by the Devil. Anything’s better than that.” You shift your grip, making sure that nothing spilled onto your hand while giving her a look.

She rolls her eyes, muttering about how ‘ungrateful’ you are when her gaze flickers past you; Her brows raise, jaw slacking slightly making you turn your head to follow her sight.

Your lips were about to part, to ask her what she’s looking at, until a deep boom cuts through the festival. It was slow, steady, pulsing, shaking the ground with each beat. Everyone around you stirs, turning to the source near the open area in the middle. You see costumed dancers with large fans on their hands. The beat of the drums goes faster, and you’re unconsciously taking Somi by the wrist, pulling her towards the performance. 

The show is spectacular; the colors of their dresses swirling around, the lights bouncing off them. They dance like a well-oiled machine, giving the spectators a show of a lifetime.

Your head turns, glancing at Somi, who’s just as immersed as you were, a glow in her those small orbs that you can get lost in that only ever shows when she’s gazing at things she cares intimately about. The orange light frames her face perfectly, the flickering shining through, a rawness in how she’s watching being written in her visage.

You can tell that she’s not just watching. The way her lips are still parted, her body nodding to the beat. She’s taking it in, losing herself in it, oblivious to the outside world. Oblivious to your staring.

Everyone’s focused on the dancers, the ballad of drums thumping along with each step they take, the muttering of the crowd as they’re wow’d by the show blending in with the smell of the nearby food stands. But all you’re focused on is her.

Somi’s blowing you away under the warm hue of the lanterns, a honeyed light encapsulating her hazel hair that makes her look like a Goddess; Shit, she probably is, and you can’t help but trace every little feature of her face; The curves of her cheekbones, the fullness of her lips, the light in her eyes. While everyone’s breath is taken away from the performers, yours is taken away by her.

She looks like she’s a dream that you’ve all but imagined. One you could spend the rest of your life looking at.

And you want to tell her. God, do you want to tell her.

But you settle for holding her hand instead, giving it a light squeeze. She squeezes back.

“It’s beautiful.” Her focus is still centered on them, talking about the performance.

“Yeah.” You’re talking about her. “It is.”

She turns, locking her gaze onto yours, and she realizes that too. 

Her grip on your hand gets tighter as the last beat drums out into the air, the group posing, bowing, thanking everyone. Claps and cheers sound out as everyone slowly returns to what they were doing before.

Just like the two of you do, when a smirk appears on her face. “Getting sappy on me?”

“Shut up.” You chuckle, walking backwards, your hand never letting go of hers as you continue on exploring. The warmth in your chest still lingers.

She lets out this tiny teasing giggle, fingers squeezing playfully, letting herself be strung along the crowd. The entire place feels even more lively than it was before the dance, the swarm of people occupying the stalls once more, the energy at an all time high. 

You can still smell the aroma of the kebabs, trying to pull you back in for another taste. You see the hellish ramen shop full of people lined up to take on the challenge; The lemonade stand has pre-made cups ready.

You nudge Somi, nodding to the stand, where the current contestant’s booking it to buy said juice, causing you two to laugh at the similarities.

You and her floated, going everywhere, doing everything. Listening to the band that performed earlier do a much more calmer beat. Watching Somi try—and fail—at shooting darts.

“You good?” Your arms are crossed, amusement coloring your face as she’s aiming at the board, an eyelid closed, tongue sticking out at the side, arm cocking forward. “I can do it for you, you know.”

“Shush.” A moment. An arm extending. A thunk in the air.

“Nice.” You’re clapping. “You hit nothing three times.”

She grunts, slamming down coins on the table. “You do it then.”

And you did. You hit dead center twice. You got a small keychain of a lantern too.

Somi’s sulking, arms crossed as she stares at the board, muttering out one word. “How?”

“You’re just bad.” You can’t help but be smug about it.

You got another smack on the arm for that.

The sun’s starting to set when the both of you ended up at the souvenir portion of the place, where you can see another line on a small photobooth on the side, stalls of handmade jewelry, charms, candles, whatever can be kept as keepsakes after today.

You’re window shopping—mostly—while Somi’s going through each and every one of the sellers, picking up trinkets that catch her eye. A bracelet here, an amulet there, she’ll try them all.

You’re mostly sticking to one, browsing through columns of rings, some similar, others completely different; A variety of colors, simply intricate designs, silver and gold bands all presented in ring boxes. A few have stones adorned on them, or have engravings etched in the metal.

Yet you only see one, tucked away in a corner. You hover over it, brushing your fingers over its container, and you pick it up.

The ring itself is made of this ashen grey metal, a thin turquoise line running in the middle, looping around it. It doesn’t scream attention, but there’s something fitting about it that makes you want to-

“What you got there?” Somi’s back with you, staring at the box that you’re holding. 

You blink, and you have an epiphany; The ring wasn’t for you, it’s for her.

“Put it on.” You take the ring out of the box and place it down, and you can feel the merchant look away and whistle.

“You’re proposing already?”

“Thought it would suit you.”

She laughs, takes it off your hands and twirls it, examining it for herself. She smiles, small, almost unnoticeable, and slowly slides it on her ring finger—it fits perfectly.

“What do you know,” Somi’s admiring it on her hand. “It does suit me.” There’s a fondness in the way she says it, as if she already likes the feeling of having it on her finger.

You were expecting her to follow up on that proposal joke she made before she put it on; She didn’t.

You had that gut feeling that she’d like it earlier, but the way she looks at it catches you off guard. Like it was something that she didn’t know she needed. Like a memento that came from someone special. Someone like you.

And that was all you needed to know to get it for her.

“So what did you get?” You’re nonchalantly changing the topic, trying to hide your excitement by fishing a few more bills out of your wallet, making a subtle face at the seller like you were asking for the price.

“This.” She says just as you pay and grab the ring box from the table. “You got me this.”

“Oh.” You shrug. That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “Well, I-uh, I hope you like it.”

“I love it.” She corrects, thumbing the ring. “I’m never taking it off.”

“Now who’s getting sappy?”

She makes this noise—happy, embarrassed—and shakes her head, smiling. “I hate you.”

You chuckle. “No, you don’t.”

She doesn’t answer. She only tugs you by the hand. “Come on, I heard there’s fireworks and the beach has the best view.”

You can’t help but tease her a bit when your brow raises and your lip turns upwards. “You didn’t get me anything did you?”

“Keep talking and I won’t get you anything at all.”

—

You can feel the festival’s energy stay with you two when you reach the outskirts of the beach, the faint smell of all the food you’ve passed by lingering on your clothes. But the chaos of it all is dimmer, the coastline not as populated, with only a few scattered around the area.

You took the long way back, enjoying the nightlife scenery of the area—without shenanigans—seeing everyone else enjoy the festival just as you did, the orange lights being replaced with the moonlight, some of the organizers prepping the colorful rockets that will dazzle the crowd later on.

Somi hasn’t stopped smiling, fooling around every other moment, raving all about the fireworks like it's the New Years and she needs someone to do that kissing tradition people do when it hits quadruple zeroes.

Wasn’t like you’d say no. Win in your books really.

The both of you end up on a pathway of rubble and stones, eventually coming across a set of benches looking towards the shore. She acts first, moving forward, pulling you with her to sit on the wooden chair.

Other than the sound of the waves crashing and the cicadas, it was finally quiet. A nice, comfortable quiet. Enjoying the silent peace, away from the chaos of the festival.

She rests her head on your shoulder, hand still looped around yours. “Borrow your jacket?”

“Sure.” You don’t hesitate, already moving to take your jacket off. You pull away from her for a moment to slip it from your shoulders and drape it over hers, securing it over her arms.

“Thanks.” Her fingers take a hold of the leather, pulling it closer to herself before she nestles back against you. A moment passes between you two, then–

“It’s still fucking cold.”

“I can always get you another bowl of that ramen–”

“No. Snuggle me.”

“O-kay.” And snuggle her you did. Arm over her shoulder, a kiss on her forehead. You two stay like that for a while until she takes another whiff of you, and squints.

“You really need to tell me that perfume you’re wearing.” She states.

“I’ll hand you the bottle back at the hotel.” She pouts.

“Just tell me the name already.” She whines. It was cute.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” She’s puffing her cheeks. It was cuter.

“Killjoy.” She elbows lightly. “Gonna snoop through your luggage for that bottle.”

“And now you’ll never get it.” You grin. It turns into a laugh when she elbows you a bit harder this time.

You two quiet down after, enjoying the view of the beach. She’s holding on to your hand, that ring on her finger glinting. She stares at it, smiling like an idiot again.

“Really outdid yourself this time, huh.” She mutters, too low for you to hear.

You hum, glancing down at her still staring at her hand. “Did you say something?”

She meets your eyes, giving you that look that she had back when you two were watching the performance happen. She holds it a beat too long, and opens her mouth to speak—

“Aeri told me.” She starts, gaze staying on you, even as you look away. Of course Aeri is a rat. “About why we’re here.” She chuckles. “And I think I should clear things up between us.”

“You don’t have to-” A nudge stops you from continuing.

“Shut up and let me talk.” Even when she’s serious there’s still that faint teasing inside of her. But it gives way when she breathes in and holds it, and lets it go.

“Every ex I’ve had was there because I’m ‘hot’. The easy fuck. And I knew about it.” She continues, thumb moving around the ring once more. “So I leaned into that stuff. I love doing it anyway, so I thought it’d be a win-win for everyone, you know?” She looks away, back to the shoreline. “But it didn’t feel right. Like–like yeah the sex was good–you’re the best–” She clarifies, and that kind of made your ego swell up a bit.

By a lot, actually.

“–But it was just sex. Honestly felt like I was booty call than anything else.” She shakes her head, sighing, tired from remembering those times, but pushes on anyway.

“So when we started fucking, it was different.” Her fingers tighten around the jacket. “It was fun. Well, sex is always fun, but it was funnier–”

“Funner.” You interject. Another elbow.

“Shut up.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, with you it’s sorta not like that. I actually want to fuck you because I–”

She licks her lips, a little embarrassed about what she’s going to say next even though you already know what she’s about to do anyways.

“–I love you and I know that I don’t say it too much and I knowIshouldbutlikeIdont–”

“Somi, breathe.” Your arm over her grips her shoulder, just enough to ground her back from her short crashout.

She leans back into your chest, hiding, whining, breathing. One last deep inhale, and she’s sitting back up.

“Okay, okay.” Somi exhales, shaking off any sort of fluster she has left. “I’m fine, good, chill.” A finger pokes your chest. “You really need to tell me what your perfume is.”

“If it lets you say ‘I love you’ more then I’ll get you an entire bottle.”

“Oh my God.” She laughs, hand over her face. “You are not gonna tell me the name aren’t you?”

“Maybe after the trip.” You shrug, chuckling yourself as you watch her laugh harder.

“Such a jackass.” She lets out, her laughter dying down. “Seriously though, you might think that I fuck you for shits and giggles like Aeri said you were thinking. And while I appreciate the fact that you did all this–” Her hand finds yours, soft, firm, assuring. You can feel the ring indent against your skin. “–I also appreciate you a lot more. So don’t you fucking doubt that, got it?”

“Yes ma’am.” You smile, pecking her lips. “Love you.”

“...Love you too.” She smiles, hiding behind her hair this time. “Even if you won’t give me your damn perfume.”

“You are obsessed with finding out what it is.” 

“Yeah, and I am losing my fucking mind about it.” She’s back to cuddling you, your arm over her frame, dumb dopey little smiles on each of your faces. The small quiet moment passes, then—

“Sorry if I brought up exes, just–thought it was important.”

“You let me know I’m your best fuck. Nothing to be sorry about.” You get another light ribbing for that, but the giggle that comes out of her doesn’t deny your statement.

Something else was gnawing at you though.

“Did Aeri really rat me out?” You ask, scoffing, noting that you shouldn’t trust Aeri with any more secret trips. And maybe advice too.

Her eyebrows hike up. “What, because she let me know that you’re a closet Romeo in hiding?”

“I want to say that I’m more Han Solo than Romeo when it comes to romance.”

And the laugh that comes out of her sounded so genuine, so beautiful, so hers. “And I’m Princess Leia?”

“I mean,” You exaggerated, prolonging the word out in the air and making this face at her. “It’s better than being dead as Juliet. And Romeo too.”

She laughs harder, and you can’t help but get drawn into it too. It’s contagious, her energy, her teasing, her everything.

Eventually it dies down to small giggles and chuckles, and you’re back to having that comfortable silence with her. Then she stands up and turns to you, arm outstretched towards you. “Come on Romeo, still gotta get you something.”

“Are you trying to cheapskate by getting me a seashell?” A grin appears on your face as you let yourself be dragged away by her once more.

“Don’t forget about the fireworks.” She tosses over her shoulder, hurrying the both of you towards the sand, kicking off her shoes. You tug off your own, taking both pairs with you, leaving footprints down as you follow her into the grain.

The cold salty breeze of the sea hits you, and you see Somi waving to some of the people she passes by. Her hair flows down her back as the wind blows through, tilting her head back to feel the air, smiling as she closes her eyes. You wish you can take a photo of her because fucking hell is she beautiful.

Her head’s turning before you can, that familiar playful glint in her eye alongside a warmth that you’ve been craving for. So much so you’re unconsciously letting a smile break out of your face.

“What?” She asks, lips curling, as if she already knows where this is going. “Does Romeo have something to say?”

You don’t speak, only walk forward. Somi’s an arm’s length away when you drop your shoes onto the sand and take a hold of her, wrapping your arm around her waist, another resting on her cheek. She doesn’t pull away, if anything she leans into you, her own arms closing around your neck, and before you can act on kissing her, she’s pulling you instead.

Everything fades when her lips meet yours; All you can feel is how soft she is, the faint taste of fishcake and lemon hitting your tastebuds, her fingers threading around your hair. The way her cheek leans into your hand, the heat of her body molding to yours.

It’s different, not unlike every other kiss you’ve had with her. Desire, arousal, whatever you call it, it’s muted, replaced with warmth, joy, love. Less of a flicker and more of a flame, slowly gaining strength and settling within.

When she pulls away for air, the sight of her grinning is the first thing you see, breathless, eyes brighter than the shine of the moon. “Love you.” She utters, pecking your lips briefly, arms resting on your chest.

You only tilt your head, resting your forehead on hers, hands staying on her waist, keeping her close. You press your lips against hers, and it’s all the words she needs to feel how much you love her too.

A crack in the air splits the moment, making you turn your head to see bright lights in the air, the first wave of fireworks bursting into rainbows, crossing the dark skies.

“Told you this was the best view.” She says, eyes reflecting the colors in the clouds, the sounds of people cheering in the background muffled by all the cracking in the sky. 

You’re still holding her close as you watch the night get infected with the festival’s energy, each explosion painting the stars. The colors dance on the both of you—gold, crimson, azure—and you just can’t get enough of staring at her. 

“Ten out of ten.” You let out, no longer afraid of being caught by her. The smile on her face says she knows you’re talking about her, just like she did back at the festival. She doesn’t tease this time, accepting it instead.

Eventually the pauses between each wave of fireworks get longer, and you’re left with the sound of the waves crashing, the crowd splitting up into silent murmurs.

She sighs out, a small one, but you can feel the weight of everything leaving her. A laugh slips out, that familiar, joking little laugh with a hint of friskiness behind it.

“So,” A tug of your hand, and you’re heading back to the path out of the beach, passing by to pick up your shoes. “Wanna head back to the hotel and fuck all night?”

“Somi-”

“No, no.” She clarifies, swinging her arm and yours follow. “Romeo needs to realize that I love him. So I need to show him how much I do.”

…Oh.

There’s no teasing in there; Just pure honest resolve coming out. And when the words from before and now finally start to sink in, and your heart start to beat faster from the desire and the warmth that comes with all the implications of them. Physical, emotional, mental, spiritual.

Wasn’t just you thinking it’s all about fucking for her anymore. Not after that. You were just too wrapped up in your own thoughts to see the bigger picture. 

Maybe you did overthink things.

You don’t even feel her tugging you for a kiss, your name whispering out her lips. “I want this. I want you. No bullshit.”

And she means it. You believe her. With everything that she’s saying and doing and wanting and needing.

“I want you too. All of you.”

“Good.” She grins, and that was the brightest thing you’ve ever seen today. “Cause you’re not getting any sleep tonight.”

—

If there’s one thing that you didn’t regret paying for, it’s the hotel room. It wasn’t a suite or anything high-end nor was it any of the simple ones. It was the type after that, with the softer bed, the balcony view, a bigger TV—overall, just better.

So when you’re pushed down on the couch, Somi climbing on top of you, tongue shoved down your throat, you’re glad that the couch was pretty soft. You’re also glad that you can feel her tits pressing up against your chest when you kiss back.

She rolls her hips and gives your lower lip a bite that just fucks you up; She knows it too, when she grins and steals another kiss. Your hands rests on her waist, still rocking, grinding onto you. 

Somi’s everywhere; Resting on your shoulders, playing with your hair, slipping underneath your shirt. All the while her tongue is fighting yours, your own hands playing with the edges of her shirt.

You can feel your cock stirring, thickening underneath your pants, and it encourages her, keeping the slow pace that’s driving you insane.

“Someone’s enjoying this.” Her hands finally rest on your chest, face inches away from yours, that damn grin plastered on her face. She does it again, slower this time, and the sigh that comes out of her sounded like heaven on earth. Her grin widens, eyes flicking down to where you’re straining underneath your pants. “Really enjoying it.”

“Hey,” You squeeze a hip, smiling. “You fuck yourself on my lap like that, it’s kinda hard not to.” 

She hums, bringing your hands up to her tits, squeezing them over the shirt, molding them to be yours once more. You’ve felt her breasts so many times, through fabric, lace, bare, and you’ll never get tired of being able to have the privilege to cup them in your hands.

“God, Somi,” You groan, both from the way she’s forcing you to grope her chest—you’re into it as much as she is—and the way her hips are still rolling. She’s always been enthusiastic about sex, but this, this felt different. This is her offering everything, heart, body, and soul.

It wasn’t about her pleasure tonight. It was about yours.

“Does Romeo need help?” She asks, grinding, circling her weight down on you, making you squeeze harder on her tits. Intentional or not, she didn't care, all she does is let out another laugh because she knows you’re this close to throwing her to the bed.

She doesn’t wait for you to reply, take action, anything. Somi’s sinking down on her knees with this greedy, hungry look, her fingers making quick work of your belt buckle as she pushes your pants and your boxers down, your throbbing cock freed.

You know what’s going to happen; She’s done this so many times, she’s perfected the art of it. And you can’t wait.

“Fuck-” Somi licks her lips, wrapping a hand around you. She jerks you off slowly as she settles in between your legs, getting closer to your cock. You can feel her breath being so damn close. “Gonna worship you tonight baby.”

And the way she drags her tongue from the tip to the base in one agonizingly slow lick makes you wanna just, shit, you don’t even know. She was hot, wet, too damn slow, your cock twitching in her hand as she went back up to your head.

The next few minutes were her tongue tracing along your cock, leaving kisses where she knows you’re weak to, leaving your cock covered in spit, and she hasn’t even taken it in her mouth yet. 

She’s a damn tease, leaving you dying from the pleasure, arms gripping the couch as you let her do whatever she wanted with your cock. Her hands aren’t idle, stroking your spit-laden cock, playing with your balls, breathy little moans coming out of her mouth when she twirls her tongue on the tip.

You’re this close to begging, the need to thrust into her lips growing higher. But you won’t. Even though this is for you, it’s her play, and you’re here to enjoy the show.

You don’t even realize you called her name out, only that a smile appears on her face when she starts licking past the base of your cock and down to your balls. She takes one of them into her mouth, wetting them, her hot breath enveloping, encapsulating.

And the way she sucks on them, God it was like she wanted to kill you. Her tongue coating one, two, both, while her hands were playing with your shaft, jerking you, using her nails to trace the veins, thumbing the tip of your cock.

Somi’s a fucking menace, and she knows it. 

“Still alive?” She mutters, letting your balls go with a pop, sucking in her spit, drooling it all over your cock, making such a pretty mess of you.

“I need,” You’re desperate, panting, your own hands finding solace in her hair, resting, gripping, cock painfully wanting her mouth on it. You can’t even fucking talk, because this wasn’t pleasure, it was torture.

“Tell me.” She says, mouth hovering over your tip, letting out these pants that make your cock ache even more. “I wanna hear you say it.”

“Somi-” You can’t. Not when she’s fucking teasing you with her tongue, running it all over your tip, those brown eyes darkening with a need for your cock, your words, your end.

“Come on, Romeo.” You can barely call it jerking off with how much she’s slowed her hands down. “You can do it.”

“Shit, need you-” You’re thrusting your hips, throwing away your pride to silently beg instead of telling her what you want.

“Just one word, baby.”

“Somi, please-”

And her mouth takes you. All of you.

You swear a bell rang out the moment her lips came into contact with your cock, because the only thing you can see is white, and she’s the angel that’s coming to bring you to Heaven.

Once she takes your entire length, she stops, holding you there inside of her throat. Her tongue’s flat under your shaft, trying to move and get a taste of your balls. You don’t know how long she’s had your cock in her mouth, and you don’t care. You already lost count when she got on her knees.

She pulls back, spit coating her chin, dripping down her shirt. Strings of them are still connecting her lips to your cock as she wraps them back into you, sucking on the tip, tongue working all over, and her hands are back to pumping you.

“So good,” She lets out, lips still making out with your tip, giving you a cheeky wink that is making you lose your fucking mind. She takes more of you, mouth so damn hot, cock drowning how it’s getting wetter, cheeks hollowing as she starts to suck.

You thought you were dying when it was just her tongue. You’re six feet under when she starts bobbing her head on your cock, and she isn’t just worshipping. Fuck that, this is murder. 

There’s no method to her madness. She’ll go with slow, shallow, deep strokes, memorizing every inch, every vein of your cock that makes your toes curl. Suddenly she ramps it up to eleven and fucks her face on your cock, burying you inside of her throat, bracing yourself by gripping her hair tighter. Or she’ll be doing it somewhere in-between, her tongue flicking the tip, hands jerking you, eyes staring into yours.

“You love this, don’t you.” It’s a statement, one she makes after she’s throated your cock. You can’t let out a response when she’s coming back down, lips making out with your tip instead of going back down to the base.

You’re losing your fucking mind. Every time you thought she’d settle into a rhythm, she switches it up, keeping you on your toes, lips grinning, tiny little giggles coming out of her while she’s giving your cock the best blowjob you’ve ever had.

“Fucking adore this cock.” Your cock’s pushing against her cheeks, giving you this one hell of a view. “And it’s all mine.”

Her eyes did not fucking help. Every flick of her tongue, stroke of her hand, bob of her head. Those dark eyes did not leave yours. She’s already ruined you for anyone else, but this is ruining you.

The only thing you can do is let out these weak groans, moans that were borderline begging, just trying to hang on to the ride she’s giving you.

“God–” She starts, spitting another batch of saliva down your cock, her entire face a mess with spit and . “I could do this all night.”

Somi loves it. You know she does. Relishing in it, thriving off of every flex of your leg, every twitch of your fingers, every thrust of your hips.

It’s fueling her, knowing that you’re letting her do anything she wants to you. It’s a goddamn power trip, and she lets you feel how much she’s enjoying you wrapped around her pretty lips.

The moans she’s letting out causing those vibrations to spread all over your cock. The gags that follow were fucking filthy, so wet, so raw. Her throat’s pulsing, contracting around you whenever she takes you down all the damn way. Every choke is a sign of victory that keeps her going, fingers digging your thighs, spit leaking down her mouth.

She pops off of your cock, sucking in a breath. You heard it differently. Messy, needy, undeniably Somi. She’s grinning as she comes back to sliding her tongue over your shaft, spit all over the place.

Somi was not lying when she’ll be worshipping your cock tonight. She’s staking her claim on you, letting you know that nobody else can do it like she can. She’s in the top 1 percent of sucking dick, and you’re extremely lucky to have met this whirlwind of a woman.

“Gimme.” She doesn’t bother asking if you’re close. She can see you’ve been wanting to burst ever since she put her lips on you. “Gimme all that cum, baby. I’ll take all of it. Mouth, face, anywhere you fucking want.”

“Somi–” You growl, teeth gritting, the urge to ruin her entire face with your load at an all time high. Your hands pull her hair, signaling where you want it. “Fa–shit, babe. All over your face.”

“Yeah?” Somi’s stroking you faster, eyes locking with yours, sticking her tongue out as she opens wide. She’s just as fucked as you were, hair all messy from the pushing and pulling you’ve done, strands of it sticking to her flushed cheeks, spit running down her chin.

She’s the filthiest she’s ever been on her knees, and all the nasty things she’s saying, every single word that comes out of her mouth, that sent you over the edge.

“Gonna ruin me? Cover me in your cum? Turn me into your cumdump–ah!”

You're all over her. On her forehead, over her eye, on top of her nose. She’s gasping, moaning, reveling in your cum. She’s getting messier, cum on her hair, her cheeks, her lips.

“Fuck yes,” She draws out, licking her lips, having a taste. “Always so much cum.”

It’s a damn shame you couldn’t commit the view to memory because all you can feel is how good it was when Somi’s jerking you off, covering herself in you. It felt even better when she shoves herself back down her throat, swallowing the last few drops.

You groan, feeling her cheeks hollow out one last time, draining you of the last few drops you let out. You finally get a good view of her after the fallout of your orgasm, and she is drenched in white, one eye closed, lips stretched in a smile even with your cock sandwiching them. 

She pulls your cock out of her lips, and she grins while you’re still sitting on the couch reeling from whatever the fuck that was.

“Oh my God,” You sear her cum-streaked face into your brain, her shirt wet from the spit and cum, because holy shit does she look shamelessly ecstatic with how dirty she is while you’re still remembering how to breathe. “You’re just–what the fuck?”

Somi laughs, tongue flicking out to catch a drop of cum sticking to her lips. Her fingers aren’t idle too, scooping up the cum and sucking them clean. “That’s one.”

“What, are we–” You adjust yourself, watching how she cleans herself up of your cum. Every stray, every glob of it lands on her mouth, and she’s enjoying it like it’s ice cream. “Are we keeping score?”

She smirks, hands dropping down to grip the hem of her shirt, and she’s pulling it over her head, landing somewhere behind her—you don’t care—showing a lacy black bra. 

“Round two?” The bra comes off too, and you’re left looking at two very convincing arguments to keep going.

Then she’s coming back down to your cock, giving you these lazy licks, cleaning you up, taking care of you. You consider it the third argument, your cock stirring, twitching back upwards.

“Come on, Romeo. My tits still need to be fucked.” She says, cupping said breasts, giving them a good squeeze. She leans down, letting a trickle of her spit fall down between them; You are so fucking screwed.

Somi’s pulling your hands to her tits, holding them over her hands. You already had a feel of them earlier, but God are they—she—the best you’ve ever held in your arms. 

“Relax, baby.” And she’s wrapping her perfect fucking tits around you, soft, warm, killer. “Just enjoy.”

She starts slow. Tits sliding up and down your cock, hands pressing around her chest. Yours, hers, it didn’t matter. She presses tighter, the pressure, pleasure, both increasing as every pump between them sends your already sensitive cock to another orgasm.

“Holy shit,” You groan, because it’s the only thing you can do. She has you wrapped around her finger, her tits, her tongue, which is occasionally licking your tip whenever it peaks and God, this is going to make you cum so damn fast.

“You can move, you know.” She’s even encouraging you to, letting out another glob of spit down her breasts, moving faster. “Fuck my tits, fuck them like you own them.”

And you do. You thrust up, once, experimental, and she slides down. Then another. Your hands settle on her shoulders. Another thrust. She squeezes tighter. The tempo goes faster.

“That’s it. Use my tits. Make a mess all over them. Want to feel it all in my tits, baby.” Somi’s riling you up again with all the dirty words that come out of her mouth. “Your slut wants more of your cum. Please. Please.”

Her shoulders are your lifeline, pumping faster, her tits bouncing with each stroke. She’s biting her lip, watching you—eager, hungry, devoted—fall apart under the slick, warm cushion of her breasts.

It’s all sending you closer to pumping another load onto her. Her tits, her face, her moans. It’s like you’re in a lucid dream with the way it all feels. Soft, tight, wet, it’s all too much for you, and that aching in your stomach is coming back too strong, too fast.

You’re so fucked out of your mind from earlier that your pace doesn’t last. Your rhythm stutters, and she picks up right where you left off, even faster than you did.

“Yeah, that’s it–” She’s gasping, her hot breath teasing you with every thrust. “Cum for me. Come on, baby, give me more.”

She puts her tongue back in the mix, leaning down to flick the head, and that makes you lose control.

Your hand takes a hold of her cheek as you give one last pump, hot spurts painting her chest, filling her cleavage, lining her collarbone.

Somi’s still fucking her tits on your cock, milking you for every last drop and you’re left shaking. Legs, hips, it didn’t matter. All you know is that you’re cumming for her, and her chest is your next canvas.

And when you’ve given her what she’s wanted, you’re slumping back, vision foggy, body suffering from the pleasure that Somi’s has brought before you. 

She’s grinning, giggling, laughing. Your cum’s all over her, dripping down, sticking onto her like glue, a pearl necklace fashioned over her. She’s licking the cum off her tits, scooping up the bits she can’t, having her second serving of your cum for the night.

She’s making a performance out of it, now and before, when she cleans herself up. Drawn out moans, hums, teasing little giggles. Eyes holding yours.

“So,” Somi takes a hold of your cock, lips on you once more, and it’s more painful than pleasurable this time. She’s still hungry for more and shit, you are too. Hungry for her.

“Shower?”

—

You didn’t even make it to the shower when you decided to pick her up, place her on the marble counter, pull her jeans down, and push her thong to the side. She was drenched, her pussy glistening, dripping in arousal. And you are starving.

Your mouth is on her pretty lips, tongue swiping everywhere. Teasing her slit with slow, teasing licks, fucking her entrance with your tongue, flicking her clit with your thumb. She’s trying to drown you with her juices, the taste of her so sweet and pungent.

“Keep going–fuck, right there–” She’s gasping, cursing, grinding on your mouth. Her soft thighs are wrapping around your face, pulling you deeper, nails digging into your scalp. The pleasure’s taking over her entire being, filth spewing out of her mouth.

You’re holding her thighs, forcing them apart before you start to fuck her with your fingers—two—while your tongue moves to flicking her clit. Her walls are squeezing them, tight, wet, hot.

“Oh my God,” Somi’s panting, watching you feast on her pussy, tracking the hand that gave her thigh a little slap—a warning—before you reach upwards to cup one of her tits, feeling how good it molds to your touch.

You pinch a bud just as you curl your fingers insider her, hitting her right where you know will fuck her up even more. And she does, moaning, squirming, trembling all for you.

“I’m so close–please, please, please–” Somi’s singing you praises, hips thrusting into you, wanting to chase that high that you’ve been holding her back from, edging her from achieving it.

Until you decided that she’s been a good enough girl for you and started pumping your fingers and your tongue faster. You grope her breast harder, watch her fall apart for you, her voice peaking, begging. Her pussy making these filthy noises with each thrust of your fingers.

You give her tit another greedy grope, and you raise your hand to give it a rough slap. That’s enough to send her spiraling, reeling, cumming.

“Fuck–fuck–fuck–” Somi’s shaking, thighs quivering, back arching as the pleasure consumes her. You’re fucking her all throughout it, sucking her clit. She’s dripping down your fingers, your chin, the counter.

“Shit, baby–” Somi’s pushing your head off, her own resting back onto the mirror behind her. Her legs are still twitching as you stand up, caressing them. “This payback from earlier or what–”

“A guy can’t eat his girlfriend out?” You peck her lips, one of your hands reaching up to cup her tits as the other is brushing up the inside of her thighs.

“Make that two and a half then.” She chuckles, and for a second there her eyes had this loving glint, layered with the normal teasing gleam in them.

“Now, seriously. Shower and then we make it three.”

—

“Cumming!”

Somi’s wrapping her legs around your waist, back against the glass, pussy tightening around your cock. Her chocolate hair is sticking on her face, wet from the warm water that was falling around your bodies.

Her toes are curling as you pound her throughout her orgasm, her arms pulling you tighter, moaning profanities into your ear while you readjust your grip on her ass and give her slow, deep thrusts to keep you from slipping under the tiles.

“Harder–fuck–fuck me harder–” Her pussy’s gushing around you, thighs shaking, holding onto you for dear life as you slowly start to thrust faster. “Want, want your cum inside–shit–”

You grunt as her nails start to dig into your back, burying your face into her neck, biting hard enough to leave marks. She whimpers, legs locking around you, pussy somehow squeezing you tighter, and it’s getting to you.

Her soft, big tits pressed against your chest, her sighs directly reverberating into your ears combined with the sound of wet flesh slapping together, pussy clenching everytime you hit her g-spot.

It’s making you want to go faster, harder, deeper. You’re getting desperate to chase your high, all because of Somi. 

“‘M close.” You groan just as she cries out, her pussy pulsing, another climax approaching her body. She pulls away from your neck to press her lips against yours—needy, loving moans humming out of her as she tangles her fingers into her hair.

And that was all it took to make you cum, slamming into her, spilling your cum deep inside, the ecstasy crashing over your body as you lean forward to have the shower glass support the both of you. 

Somi’s shaking, milking you of every drop, screams echoing around the bathroom as she experiences another wave of pleasure rippling her entire body. 

The sound of water falling and breathing is the only thing left filling the air, the both of you clinging to each other to bask in the afterglow.

“Fuck, Romeo.” She giggles, forehead pressing against yours. “First you go down on me, now this?”

“What can I say,” You nuzzle back into her neck, leaving a kiss over one of the hickeys you’ve left her. “You got me all worked up back on the couch.”

And she laughs, head tilting back, and even with the water blinding you she looks so beautiful.

—

Your hands were busy groping her soft, full ass when she straddles you, back facing your chest as she rubs her pussy on your length before she eases herself down. She’s taking all of you, pussy dripping, heat wrapping around.

“God, this cock,” She sighs, arching her back. “Still so hard for me.”

You’re loving the way her pussy’s clenching around you, taking your length every time Somi bounced that tight ass of hers. Your hold on her ass tightens when she starts to pick up speed, that rhythmic sound of skin hitting skin starting to permeate the air.

It’s a symphony of moans spilling out of lips, creaks of the bed underneath you, and wet slicks of her pussy gripping your cock playing in the room, and you had the best view in the house when she starts to roll her hips like that.

“Babe, what–what the fuck–” The next few seconds were spent spouting out the dumbest shit you’ve ever said in your life, because the moment she leaned forward and popped her ass out even more to fuck herself on your cock you were losing mental capacity by the second.

“Want it slow?” She slows down and turns her head to look at you. It’s torture hidden in paradise, the pace she’s bouncing almost stopping to a crawl. “Or fast?”

“Whatever you want, just, you–” You can’t help but crash your hand down on her ass, the smack rippling the air. Somi takes it the wrong—or right, who gives a fuck—way and starts to ride you, picking up right where she left off; Ruining you.

She’s unrelenting now, fucking herself on your cock, that hypnotizing ripple of her ass staring back at you, drawing you in, drowning you. From the way she’s moving her hips, hitting every deep spot inside her on every drop of her ass, the curses that she’s singing; It’s all so fucking devilishly heavenly.

Hands grip the sheets, holding on for dear life as she’s getting more and more unhinged with how she’s slamming down on you. One of them reaches up to her ass, that goddamn ass that looks so fuckable, you can’t stop yourself from sliding your thumb over her asshole.

“Y-Yeah?” She’s too lost in her own pleasure to give out any sort of decent reply, her voice coming out as whimpers and moans and cries of pleasure in between all of it. “Want, want my ass again don’t you Romeo–”

You push your finger in the entrance, and she starts to break.

“Oh shit–” She gets impossibly tight as she starts convulsing, toes curling, body falling, hips still fucking fucking. One last slam of her ass and she’s lost it, moans, whimpers, screams; All in a span of a few moments.

You take it as a sign to move. Leave another slap on her ass as you sit upright and pull her towards you, falling back down as you start to fuck her, chasing after your own orgasm, the want to give another coating of your load inside of her growing higher and higher.

Hands grab everywhere; Her tight stomach, heavy tits, her neck. You’re not letting her rest after her climax as you give her neck a little squeeze, her cunt clenching around you, and that makes you see stars.

She’s coming with you when she’s pulled for a kiss, sloppy and needy and so adoring. Tongues are fighting when you’re buried deep inside her, taking every single drop of hot white cum. She’s groaning, feeling all of you pour into her.

And when it ends, you’re both catching your breath, 

“You might end up killing me tonight.” She mutters, leaving these little pecks and kisses over your jaw, your cheeks, your lips.

“You’ll do me in first.” You reply, hands coming back down to wrap around her waist as you pull out, feeling your spunk leak out onto the sheets.

She giggles like she always does, leaving another kiss on your lips, cheeks flushing from uttering the next words that come out of her. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Somi.” You grin. Two simple words and you’re getting all giddy again. “Love you too.”

—

You two didn’t really stop.

There were breaks in between, of course. Get a glass of water, have short cuddly moments, make out sessions before she pulls you into another round. Or vice versa.

It’s a back and forth, really.

She drags you outside to rail her in the balcony, the cool air hitting the both of you as the view of the beach greets you. Somi’s loud, uncaring of the nearby rooms as you pump her cunt full of another load.

You have her head dangling off the side of the bed, fucking her face, lodging your cock down her throat. Spit’s running down her face as she takes every inch of you, trying—and failing—to finger herself in time with your thrusts while you’re holding onto her tits until she can drink all of the cum that you’ll inevitably feed her.

Somi’s shoving you back down the couch, cock up her ass as she rides you. Her tits are fucking hypnotizing, and you’re latching onto one of her buds, sucking, swirling, nipping. She’s crying out, shoving you deeper into her cleavage as you fill her ass.

You’re fucking her on top of the table, her back scraping the wood. She’s pulling your hands to her tits, giving one of them a slap before pinching her hard nub, another staying down to rub her clit. You leave a kiss on her forehead as you cum together.

She’s on top of you again—on the bed this time—as she grinds her hips, her walls gripping, pulsing around your cock. She took it slow, deliberate, teasing, enjoying how much you’re squirming underneath her. Her nubs are brushing against your chest as she locks lips with yours, all tongue, until your legs lock up and you’re cumming inside her.

The hotel was a complete mess by the time you two were done.

You ended up back on the bed, the both of you spent. Your cock is aching from the amount of times you came in the last few (How long were you two fucking?) hours while her cunt’s leaking all the cum you’ve dumped inside of her.

Somi’s draping an arm over your chest, her fingers tracing shapes on your skin. That ring you gave her never came off the entire night.

“Nine’s a hell of a record.” She smiles, curling up to you, breathing heavy from all the activities. “Best night of my life.”

“Yeah,” You sigh, playing with her hair. “Tell that to my dick.”

“I don’t hear you complaining.” She slaps your chest, light, teasing. “You loved it.”

“You’re not wrong.” You leave a kiss on her forehead. “I do.”

“Love you too.” She smiles, reaching up to give you a kiss. She’s warm, that tingly feeling rising out of your stomach. You’re both grinning into the kiss, slow, deep, hands cupping her face, hers resting on your chest.

The next few minutes were spent talking about the random things that crossed your minds.

Shit like showers—

“We’re gonna need another shower.” 

“I’m too sore.”

“I can probably carry–”

“...I take it back. I can’t move either.”

Getting Aeri back for ratting you out—

“You seriously think Aeri would hook up with him of all people?”

“I mean, they kinda already did.”

“What the hell, since when?”

“The night after they fucked–”

“Don’t be a smartass, Romeo.”

The plans tomorrow—

“We’re hitting the beach tomorrow.”

“You just want to see me in a bikini.”

“And maybe dunk you in the water. But yeah. Bikini.”

Somi being a lovingly clingy idiot for the first time—

“Love me.”

“I am loving you.”

“You’re not doing it enough.”

It was dumb, pointless, and sorta ironic. From the quiet moments that you wanted and the copious amounts of sex you tried to avoid, it felt oddly worth it.

And it was just the first day. You don’t know whether you should be jumping for joy or scared for your life.

But you can’t say that you can ask for anything else—

“Wanna have another go to round it up?”

“Somi–”

Now, if there is such a word that combines happiness and fear, that would be what you’re feeling right now.

Still worth it.

[nobodysuspectsthebutterfly]

Somewhere beneath those roofs, the Sons of the Harpy were gathered, plotting ways to kill her and all those who loved her and put her children back in chains. Somewhere down there a hungry child was crying for milk. Somewhere an old woman lay dying. Somewhere a man and a maid embraced, and fumbled at each other's clothes with eager hands. But up here there was only the sheen of moonlight on pyramids and pits, with no hint what lay beneath. Up here there was only her, alone. She was the blood of the dragon. She could kill the Sons of the Harpy, and the sons of the sons, and the sons of the sons of the sons. But a dragon could not feed a hungry child nor help a dying woman's pain. And who would ever dare to love a dragon? —ADWD, Daenerys II

Interviewer: One could argue that more can be learned about everyday politics from your novels than from the newspaper.

George: I did indeed intend to make politics one of the main themes of these novels. I hope to make my readers reflect on political issues. For example, when Daenerys Targaryen conquers a city of slave traders and tries to rule it, she realizes that good intentions alone do not make a government program. There is a series of very difficult decisions to make and, no matter what you do, people will hate you.

Interviewer: Even if one has three dragons.

George: Exactly. The dragons are metaphors.

Interviewer: Virtually the nuclear weapons of your world.

George: The most terrible weapon! However, they don't put you in a position to abolish poverty, make everyone love you, or lead a happy life. You can very well use them to burn things down, to destroy your enemies, cities, and entire cultures, but that doesn't solve the problem of good governance.

- George R.R. Martin, The Father Of Fire And Ice

[mimiiiiiiiiisstuff]

"You're gonna go far"

okay yall this is chapter one! if it sucks or doesn't make sense pls don't hate. might take it down later if i decide i hate it. likes, comments, and reblogs encourage me!!!I brainstormed this pretty fast so it might be messy.

lmk if there's any plot holes! This is the week following the failed patrol and Tiffany taking reader's credit. About 6 to 7 months after Tiffany moved in.

The first day after the incident, you had stayed in your room, nursing the bitter sting of betrayal. You couldn’t even remember the last time they’d acknowledged your existence. Tiffany, of course, was the shining star of the household. While you were holed up in your bedroom, processing the snakebite that had changed everything, Tiffany was out there, winning their favor with her charm, her sweet smiles, and her sugar-coated lies. You spent all night aching and feeling your bones shattering in your skin, feeling your skin peel off, and your teeth sharpen and make your mouth bleed.

The day started with her knocking on your door, her voice dripping with fake concern.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, stepping inside without waiting for permission. “I heard what happened last night... but don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll be fine. Just walk it off, right? Just a snake bite! You weren't even supposed to be on patrol, Dad said that you can't be part of the team. You're not skilled enough.”

You didn’t respond. You couldn’t. How could you? It wasn’t a matter of walking it off. The venom inside you had begun to manifest, the snake-like power curling through your veins, but Tiffany's words twisted the knife further. You could see the smug look in her eyes as she added, “It’s okay. I’m here now. I know you’re upset, but let’s just move past it. You need some tough love”

You didn’t know what to expect when the transformation took hold that night. One minute, you were trying to cry yourself to sleep the next—your skin tingled, muscles shifting, twisting beneath the surface. The bite on your neck from the damn snake burned like fire, but something deeper, something inside you, urged you to embrace it. Again you felt your mouth burn, your body tingle, your skin shed and a searing pain from the waist down.

As you lay flat against the wall, your hands pressed against the cool surface you couldn’t help but grin, pain was better than numbness. You weren’t just Bruce Wayne's outcast daughter, nor were you the wannabe batgirl, as Stephanie liked to call you, you were something else now, something powerful.

The first time you ejected venom from your fingertips, you almost dropped your phone in surprise. It was cold, sharp, and terrifying in its power. It didn’t make sense. You could feel the agility coursing through you, every muscle in your body aligning with the new capabilities as if your very bones were made for this transformation. This wasn’t you anymore.

The idea of getting even, of showing them all that you weren’t weak or invisible, had always been a fantasy. But now, it didn’t feel like a fantasy. It felt real, solid in a way that left you trembling. You weren’t just going to prove them wrong. You were going to become something they could never ignore again. And they would never see it coming.

But what now? The Batfamily—Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, all of them—had given you nothing but pain and neglect for years. They didn’t understand you, didn’t care to. They couldn’t see past their perfect image of family long enough to see you. Now, with this power, you didn’t need them. You never did.

Except… there was Tiffany.

She was their new perfect darling, their shining star. Every time she took a step into their world, they’d fawn over her, ruffle her hair, praise her as though she could do no wrong. You had tried to be perfect for them, but perfection never got you what you wanted. It never got you love. It never got you acceptance.

She was a liar, a fraud, and she’d ruined your life. You'd tried to warn them, tried to tell them what she really was—what she was doing behind their backs. But they chose to believe her over you. They always did.

So it was time for them to learn. To know what you were capable of.

You wouldn’t hurt them but you would make them understand. You would show them your worth, show them what they had turned their backs on. No more hiding. No more being invisible. You’d be the storm they couldn’t control, the one they couldn’t ignore.

One by one, you would take back everything that was stolen from you.

The next day Bruce didn’t even acknowledge you when he passed you in the hallway. You wanted to tell him about the snake, about the strange scary things going on in your body, of the violent thoughts running through your mind but the words died in your throat in fear of ridicule. You stood there, heart racing, desperately hoping he’d say something, anything, just a hint of recognition. But he didn’t. Tiffany was at his side, her arm linked through his as they strolled past you. She was chattering on about some trivial matter, and you could feel the coldness in Bruce's demeanor. No eye contact. No words. Nothing.

It was as if you weren’t there. It hurt, more than you could have imagined. And yet it wasn't anything new.

Alfred, the one person who might’ve shown you compassion, didn’t even make you breakfast. You waited in the kitchen, hoping for something—anything. But no, Tiffany had already filled the void with her charming demeanor, sitting at the table with Alfred, chatting about some charity event.

You stood there, waiting. Watching. Silent.

Eventually, you turned and left. Alfred hadn't even looked up when you walked out.

Damian.

Your little brother who you tried so hard to bond withhad taken to sneering at you when you crossed paths with more anomosity than usual. His usual arrogance and distaste for you had only intensified. You had caught him once, whispering something to Tiffany about how "pathetic" you were. “Father’s blood runs through me, not through you,” he had muttered under his breath. You had to fight the overwhelming urge to break down right then and there. The venom inside you seemed to thrum in response, as if it recognized the cruel words, feeding off them.

Later, you overheard him tell Tiffany, “You’re far more worthy of being in this family than she’ll ever be.”

Jason, who you once thought of as a brother, the only one who could’ve understood you, had turned his back completely. You had tried to reach out to him and tell him of the pains at night, to apologize for whatever wrongs you’d committed, but all he did was glare at you. A snide comment about how “you wouldn’t know what it means to feel pain” and then he walked away, his back to you as he followed Tiffany down the stairs.

Your heart shattered.

Tim was... absent, but his absence was worse than anything. He made no effort to reach out, barely acknowledging you when you passed by. When you tried to speak with him, to ask how his day had gone, he merely gave you a dismissive shrug and muttered something about needing to “work.” Tiffany, on the other hand, always had time for him. She seemed to be everything you were not—everything they wanted. She was their perfect daughter, their perfect sibling. She was the one who belonged.

You tried to slip into the shadows, but the truth was, you felt like you were already invisible.

You and Duke used to be friends when he first came, till he realized Stephanie was much cooler than you. Maybe you could hang with them in the cave, maybe they could help figure out what was happening to you. Maybe even talk to Barbra and Cassandra!

The Batcave was eerily quiet when you worked up the nerve to enter. You were sitting at a workstation, trying to work up the courage to talk to any of your siblings but your thoughts kept drifting. Tiffany had completely woven herself into the fabric of the team, and everyone else, even Duke, seemed content to ignore you.

You and Duke had once been close. He’d been one of the few people who had ever tried to make you feel like you belonged in the manor. You remembered the late-night conversations, sharing stories and laughter, plotting out plans for how you could prove your worth to the family. But now, every time you glanced in his direction, there was nothing but distance and confusion.

you could feel his presence across the room. He and Tiffany were standing by one of the equipment stations, speaking in hushed tones. You tried to ignore them. It hurt too much to look at Duke, to see how easily he had fallen under Tiffany's spell, how effortless it was for him to ignore you now.

Tiffany was front and center, as usual. Her presence always seemed to command attention, like a star that everyone gravitated toward. You had grown used to the way they all fawned over her, but it didn’t make it any easier to watch.

“Duke, you’re up next,” Tiffany called out, a smile playing at her lips. Her voice was sweet, but you could hear the subtle edge beneath it. A tone that made your blood boil. She wasn’t just charming them, she was playing them.

“You know, I’d never say no to a challenge, Tiff.” he said, his voice almost affectionate.

“You’re the best, Duke,” Tiffany purred, clearly pleased.

You glanced at Barbara, hoping for something—a glance, a small acknowledgment—but her eyes were glued to her computer screen. She might as well have been miles away.

Cassandra, as usual, was focused on her training. She hadn’t ever shown interest in you, and today was no different. Her sharp gaze didn’t waver from the sparring targets she was working through, ignoring you entirely.

You sighed, not wanting to add to the already uncomfortable tension in the air. The weight of it was overwhelming. But you couldn’t help but overhear the rest of Duke and Tiffany’s conversation.

“I’m telling you, Duke,” Tiffany was saying with a laugh, “you’ve got this in the bag. You’ve been training for years, they’re never going to see it coming.”

Duke chuckled, clearly reveling in her praise. “Yeah, but I’m still not sure I trust the plan,” he said, glancing at the others. “You really think it’ll work?”

Tiffany’s smile was cold and calculating. “Trust me, it will. I’ve been working on it for weeks, and with your skills, we’ll have it done in no time. Just follow my lead.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from speaking up, even if you weren’t sure why you were still trying. You knew they didn’t care, but some part of you still clung to hope that maybe, just maybe, they’d listen. You and Duke were friends, he wouldn't ignore you. You didn't want Tiffany to pressure him into a plan he wasn't sure of.

“Tiffany, why don’t you give Duke some space?” you asked, trying to sound casual. “He might want to work out his own plan, you know?”

The moment the words left your mouth, Duke’s expression darkened, and so did everyone else's. Even Barbra glanced at you.

“Oh, you’re still here?” Tiffany asked, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “I didn’t realize you had any input. I guess it’s cute that you think Duke needs your help.”

Duke’s eyes narrowed. “I’m good, [Y/N]. Really. Tiffany’s got this. Don’t you have some... other place to be?”

Your mouth burned and your bones ached, since when did Duke treat you like this? What right did he have? You were friends, friends aren't mean to friends.

Your fists clench, "Excuse me? What's that supposed to mean?" You spit out, unusually angry and brave.

His eyes softened for a second but then Duke looked up at you, his gaze colder than you remembered. “It’s not personal, okay? It’s just… you don’t really fit in with the rest of us."

The words felt like a slap in the face. Tiffany was the one with the skills. Tiffany was the one who was flawless. Tiffany was the one who didn’t need to try. Tiffany fit in.

You wanted to scream, to demand an explanation for why you were being discarded like this. You tried, but the words caught in your throat, leaving you silent. Duke wasn’t the person you had once leaned on. He wasn't your friend anymore. you could feel the deep divide between you both now, a gap named betrayal.

Before you could respond, Stephanie, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward. “Come on, (Y/N), don’t waste our time. If you don’t have anything useful to add, just leave. You’ll be better off on your own.”

Your eyes snapped to her. Of all people, you didn’t expect Stephanie to be so blunt. But here she was, her arms crossed and her eyes not even looking in your direction as she spoke.

Tiffany shot Stephanie a glance of approval. “Exactly, Steph. They’ll just slow us down. Maybe you should go back to the kitchen and bake something.”

The words were meant to belittle you, to remind you of the one thing they knew you were good at, baking, and nothing more. You felt your fists clench, the sting of her words cutting deeper than you wanted to admit.

Duke’s eyes lingered on you for a moment, but he didn’t say anything. His silence spoke volumes. You could feel the finality of it, the way the space between you both had grown too big to bridge.

“You don’t have to listen to them,” Tiffany continued, her voice smooth, "You’re not part of the team. Just let it go. It’s better for everyone.”

Tiffany’s manipulation was sickening. But what hurt the most was that Duke was going along with it. He had always been the one person who had made you feel like you mattered in this cold, detached family. And now? He was treating you like you were nothing. He had chosen her over you. The reality of it hit you like a t train.

“Fine,” you muttered, swallowing the lump in your throat, ignoring the burning of your eyes and the hole in your chest.

Without another word, you turned on your heel and walked out of the Batcave, the cold stares of Tiffany, Duke, Stephanie and Cassandra burning into your back. no matter how hard you had tried, how many times you had bent over backwards to prove your worth, it would never be enough for them.

The final blow came that night on the 7th night after the incident and the day after Duke's betrayal.

Tiffany had won. You could see it in her eyes, hear it in her voice. She won their trust, their love. Now, she was going to make sure you were out of the picture for good.

You overheard Bruce and Tiffany speaking in his study, a room you were never allowed to enter.

“I think it’s for the best,” Tiffany said, her voice sweet, almost too sweet. “She’s so... incompetent. Maybe a change of scenery will help her grow.”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied, his voice cold, indifferent. “But it’ll also keep her away from Gotham for a while. From the family.”

“It’ll be better for everyone,” Tiffany continued. “She’s been so distant lately, and honestly, I don’t think she fits in here. She doesn’t belong.”

“I’ll have Alfred make the arrangements tomorrow,” Bruce said, his tone final. “It’ll be good for her. A change of pace. A chance to learn discipline.”

And just like that, your life as you knew it ended.

You would be sent away to a boarding school in New York City. They didn’t even give you the courtesy of telling you themselves. Tiffany had already manipulated the situation, convinced them that it was for the best. That you didn’t belong. That you needed to be removed from the family.

Later That Night

You sat in your room, fists clenched, eyes burning with tears you refused to shed. You could hear Tiffany’s laughter echoing in the halls as she paraded through the manor, a crown on her head that wasn’t hers.

You weren’t going to cry. Not anymore. You weren’t going to beg for their attention. For their love. No. You had something far more dangerous now. Something that didn’t need them. Something that would show them all just how wrong they were. The venom in your veins burned brighter now. You could feel it coiling around your bones like a living, breathing thing. You would prove them all wrong. You would go to New York and never look back.

Ok I tried my best guys be nice! I just had so many ideas and didn't know how to execute them! Send in asks! I wanted to get the plot moving tbh

[mwphisto]

Sylus: Grueling

~ You've had a rough day and Sylus doesn't seem to notice until it's too late

~ Inspired by anon's thoughts! Thank you anon!

A note from Soul: This one is a bit longer than my usual imagine/blurbs! I've been trying to get back into writing more fleshed out ideas and stories and this one was a fun starter! Don't think I'm quite satisfied with my work just yet so you'll probably see a lot of longer pieces as I try and get myself back into the flow of writing details lol. This post contains hurt/comfort, jokes about eating habits, and a bunch of fluff afterwards! WC: 1.8k

Your day has been nothing short of grueling. 

Not that anything truly serious had happened, it was more or less a day full of minor inconveniences. First, your alarm didn’t go off. Only, it did, and you had slept right through it. Somehow, you pulled yourself together and arrived only about ten minutes late. While it annoyed you to rush, it wasn’t the end of the world. 

Then, you stepped away from your desk to make a coffee. You hadn’t had time to get it this morning on your commute for obvious reasons. You could settle for the Hunter Association’s coffee set up in the break room. You’d finish your reports after making it, and then meet up with your ever elusive partner. 

Only, you spilled the coffee after you had just finished making it. Your hunter’s watch blaring to life as it dedicated a metaflux overload just outside. 

Two inconveniences in a row. Alright, that's fine, you’d live. Annoying, yes. But really not the end of the world. Until your gun jammed, and your whole life flashed before your eyes as a wanderer nearly detached your hand from your wrist. Your hunting partner had saved you in the knick of time. But that didn’t stop your anger. 

With the wanderers handled, and a quick check to ensure the scratch on your wrist was nothing more, you went back into headquarters. On the way you let Simone know of the issue and she happily took your guns to check them out and fix whatever caused the nearly life changing incident. 

Back at your desk, your head throbbed with a dull, irritating ache. Perhaps you were a little more wound up than you let yourself realize. You weren’t having the best day, and all the little errors that had occurred only felt so bad because they were happening one after another. Your own reasoning didn’t help the ache of tears that burned behind your eyes. “Jenna, I need to leave.” 

Your captain had luckily been understanding, agreeing that you should head home for the day since your headache would likely slow your judgment in the field. Okay, understanding but a little harsh was probably a better way to describe her. It felt like a punch to the gut, like you were a bit useless. 

As you hauled yourself out of headquarters, you found your body thrumming with the need to be held. You needed him, his comforting embrace, his soft bed, his deep voice. Everything that made Sylus who he was – it was a comfort to you. Your own little oasis, a safe-house, maybe the safest place in the whole of Deepspace. 

It was late afternoon when you were swallowed by the N019 Zone’s perpetual black. Something you had come to find incredibly comforting - maybe because it was Sylus’ home, his territory. Maybe because it just screamed his name. 

Luckily, your bike didn’t give out on you as you scanned your handprint and entered the impressive built-in garage Onychinus’ base had. Your bike had a reserved spot right next to his, and a spot to rest your helmet. It was the little things that made your heart ache. You needed him expeditiously. 

Another handprint scan and the door to the main safe house unlocked. Immediately, you were greeted with the smell of toast and eggs. 

This is pretty early for him to be up… But you shouldered off your jacket and slid out of your boots regardless, setting your things aside on the coat and shoe rack before quietly padding down the hallway. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you today, Kitten.” His back was turned to you, his attention focused on the stove before him.

“Got out early, figured I would stop by.” And you swallow the need to express how much you needed his comfort. “Unless you’re going somewhere?” He wasn’t in his pajamas, but he wasn’t in his beloved black slacks and button up that he wore for work. He was in a sweater and gray khalkis. “Not going anywhere, don’t worry.” 

He glanced over his shoulder then, grimacing slightly. “You look terrible, kitten.” There wasn’t a hint of worry in his words, no, it was purely a tease. You were positive you looked as tired as you felt, a little bit of blood still lingering on your hunter uniform sleeve from the cut. “Gee thanks, you always know what to say.”

Your unusual bite still clung to the words, but you could feel them lacking their typical enthusiasm. You and Sylus always bantered like this. Always gave each other shit, pushed and pulled the limits. But it was just that, your way of showing affection, your way of bonding. Today though? You felt your stomach twisting. 

“I’ve only made enough food for two servings. Not nearly enough for your appetite. Give me a minute and I’ll get another round going.” But you couldn’t even feel hunger, despite not eating anything all day. “Oh screw you.” you choke on a forced laugh, trying not to collapse into the bar stool that sat at his kitchen island. 

“You know you can eat enough for four people, kitten.” And dammit you wanted to cry. He wasn’t wrong, and this topic had never been sensitive before. But today it seemed every nerve in your body was on high alert. “And you can eat enough for six. Don’t even go there.” You swear your voice waivers. 

If it did, Sylus didn’t seem to catch on. 

“Fiesty.” You wished you were, maybe you really were better at putting up a front than you thought. For Sylus to be so convinced? Maybe you should consider taking up acting instead of being a hunter. 

You rubbed your face, fingers focusing their pressure just above your brow bone and dragging downwards over your temples. It wasn’t just your body that felt stiff, it was your entire face too. “Eat up, it’s one of your favorites.” By the time you pulled your hands away, Sylus was already back at the stove ready to make more. 

“You don’t need to bother, Sy. I’m not super hungry.” A dish that usually made your mouth water now had your stomach turning. “Oh? Is someone on a diet?” He had made that joke before, it was one you’d yell at him for, slap his arm or his chest, and then start laughing. It never stung, never hurt, but now? 

The tears were welling in your eyes before you could stop them. White hot embarrassment clung to you as your tired hands moved to cover your face again. You tried, you really did, to control your breathing and mentally talk yourself off the edge of a breakdown. But it wasn’t working, the tears hurt to keep at bay.

When your snarky comeback didn’t reach his ears, Sylus turned to look at you. Another quip danced on his tongue but it died altogether when he saw your shoulders shaking. Only then did he really look at you, look at you hard enough to see the dried blood on your sleeve and the bandage poking through. 

It seemed to crash down on him all at once. 

You had a bad day, and here he was poking fun. “Sweetie?” 

You inhaled deeply, cringing as it sounded like a muffled sob. “I’m good, I’m sorry, I’m good.” You pull your hands away, looking at him through watery eyes as a half-hearted wobbly smile pulls at your lips. The stove had been abandoned, he now stood beside you as you trembled. The brave act doesn’t fool him, though. Not one bit. “You are not okay, what happened today?” And the tears start anew. 

You can only choke out repeated apologies, embarrassed that he’s seeing you crumble like this. For being so sensitive, for not being able to handle the usual jokes. “You have nothing to apologize for, Sweetie. I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” You don’t resist when he pulls you in, holding your weeping body to his, grounding you as he cradles your head to his chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Sweetie. I should have realized, I should have known.” But how could he? He had been preoccupied and you didn’t crawl into the kitchen with dramatic flair. You had been attempting to hide it anyways. “No, that’s not an excuse. I should have known something was off the second you walked in here so early.” 

Oh, you must have mumbled that outloud. “Sylus, r-really it’s not your fault. You didn't know–” but he’s cutting you off “I didn’t know but I should have been able to tell.” You wanted to tell him it wasn’t his fault, because really it wasn’t. But you couldn’t stop the new wave of tears. It was better to just let it all out, but you felt ridiculous doing so. Even if he was cradling you like you desired in the first place. 

“You had a bad day, and I went and said you looked terrible.” It was more to himself than to you, but for some reason it made your sob turn into a choked laugh. “Sweetie, I'm so sorry. I don’t care if you don’t think I need to apologize because I personally know I do. I was so rude to you.” Truly, he felt like he had just kicked a stray kitten. 

“It’s how we always are to each other, Sy. I promise you it’s not the comments that upset me.” You sniffled softly, eyelids heavy but you were content with your tears. “I just had a bad day. Just a bunch of little inconveniences that piled up and…” 

“And I made it ten times worse by being a jackass. Fuck, Sweetie, I’m so sorry.” It was killing him, truly. He felt his body tensing as he thought about the comments he had made, and you were falling apart right behind his back. He felt heartless. 

“Sy, really, it’s okay. We always joke like that, today I was just a bit more sensitive than normal.” But it didn’t really make him feel better - he wasn’t willing to dwell on it though. He needed to make it up to you instead of verbally bombarding you. “Let’s go take a shower, you can wear some of my clothes, and then we can relax in bed. How does that sound?” You nodded, eyeing the food he made.

“You’re hungry, no? You made food for yourself, you should eat. I can take care of myself.” You pulled away from his embrace, wiping the drying tears from your cheeks and trying to steady yourself to be okay. “I was only eating because I remembered how upset you were the last time I forgot breakfast. I want to take care of you, sweetie.” 

“Plus, once you’re settled, we can make something else. Have you even eaten today?” And suddenly, you were shrinking into the barstool, sheepish about your answer. 

“That’s what I thought. No more denial, let me pamper you.” 

[ubeb0nes]

HCs of Sevika in Love ఌ

Congrats champ, you bagged a baddie!

**Reader is fem!

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It's not that Sevika has crazy high standards. Her wants in a partner are actually very straightforward; it's just that most people lack the base integrity and self-accountability to even catch her attention in the first place

I really don't think she'd ever fall for anyone from Piltover, there's just too many generations of trauma accompanied by a life lived under their foot for her to get past. She loves Zaun too much to ever love anything to do with Piltover

That said, she's attracted to the ideals she associates with the Undercity; perseverance, strength (doesn't have to mean physical), adaptability and loyalty. If you have her love, you most certainly earned it bae

For her, it's probably an "oh shit"/"oh no" type of singular moment, when she realizes she's fallen in love

Either you got hurt or in some position where her true feelings were forced out of her, OR it's during an achingly soft moment where it's clear how loyal/devoted you are to her, and only her.

Absolutely spends months denying herself. She will try to distance, reasoning that you're both better off without the notion of love walling you in.

Zaun is no place for that, she thinks. She recalls Felicia and her husband, dying together on that bridge while a twenty-something year-old Sevika, at the time, watched them fall.

The pain to know you couldn't save your loved one in your final moments (even worse to leave two young children behind). She couldn't imagine it. Didn't want to. Sevika knew that her road would end at a violent last stop, and she didn't want you anywhere near that. She thinks about having met you in a different place.

…But she can't fully hide how she feels about you, not ever. She may oftentimes be rough and ruthless, but even at her worst moment Sevika isn't a cold individual. She's too passionate about you, cares too deeply for where you are and how you are

So when you show up at her apartment to yell at her for being so cruel, for shutting you out of her heart instead of being a grown-ass woman and telling you what the fuck you did wrong, she lets you.

She lets you yell until you've tired yourself out, and then she pulls you into that embrace you missed so much. You hit her shoulder or her chest, weakly, because you love her like crazy and never wanna actually hurt her, and tell her to fuck off.

"I didn't wanna push you away, dumbass," she'll say to you, softly, as she presses a kiss to your ear, "You think I don't want you with me all the time? To tell you I love you and shit without it coming back to bite us in the ass? Of course I do. Of course I do. I just… I don't know how. But I'm gonna fuckin' learn, doll. I promise."

"You… you love me? Really?" "Doll, I don't even let Silco talk to me like that." "You asshole-!"

You're mad, but not really. How can you be? You two will make this work, she already gave you her word.

It's more likely for you to move in with her than vice versa. She lets you go ham on adding your personality to her living space, she doesn't have any strong preferences besides cleanliness

Always says I love you before she goes to work. Just in case. If you mess with her and don't say it back, she will get up in arms about it within two seconds of silence

"I could die, you know." "Babe, I'm just joking!" "Do you see me laughing??"

Obviously, lets her drama queen side show more. She's just all-around looser once she confesses.

She makes sure you know how different you are from others, how special you are. Even her posture is different the moment you're within arm's reach

Body language and physicality are Sevika's main fluency. When in love, you notice the way she angles her body protectively around yours in public, or how she always urges you to link your arm with hers when you walk.

You notice that she almost looks… smaller at home. You realize this is on purpose. She makes herself less intimidating when it's just you, lowering herself to your level and opening her posture to you

At home, she likes kneeling by your side when you're sitting on the couch, checking you over or pressing slow kisses to your hands.

Devoted, devoted, devoted. She never wants you to forget.

Every time you call her name, she always stops what she's doing to give you her attention.

"Sevi?" "Yes, baby?" Every time. It's grounding for you both, in a way

Her henchmen become your henchmen. They know better than to say no to your requests for their help. (Ran is down for antics with you regardless!!)

People all over the Undercity start to recognize you as "Sevika's woman". Not her "girl", you garner too much respect for that

You are the only person Sevika answers to besides Silco. Her close circle teases her that you turn her into a little lovestruck puppy

It's really only them who are even capable of teasing her about this, because her changes in behavior are so minute but so important

She puts out her cigarillos when you sit down with her. She always shifts you over to her left side (the side most capable of protecting you). Her eyes start scanning the room more frequently than before you'd arrived.

She figures out over time that she was wrong. When she holds you against her while you sleep, and you grab her hand half-consciously to press kisses to her wrist, she knows you don't make her weak

When you whisper that you love her against her neck while you sway in the kitchen, moving to whatever music vibrates from the depths of her beloved city, she knows you don't make her weak

When you pull her back together without fail, remind her that she is more than just a grunt in a revolution, a soldier that can be replaced, she knows you don't make her weak

There isn't anything she wouldn't do to get back to you. She has to live long enough to know what a good life in a liberated Zaun looks like with you

[d-z20]

Neighbourly Care part 2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: You try to forget the night with your neighbours by going on dates, but it doesn't go as planned. It goes better ;)

-OR-

Your hot MILF neighbours see you on a date and get jealous so they fuck you again

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, switch mommy Agatha, top daddy Rio, both are possessive, strap-ons, oral, double penetration, marking, degredation & praise kink, spanking, choking, orgasm denial, good bit of aftercare at the end

Words: 5.5k

A/N: If you thought it couldn't get any hornier you are very very mistaken. It is so much filthier than part 1

AO3 | Part 1 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | Masterlist

Not For Sharing

Warmth envelops you as consciousness seeps back into your mind. A subtle, sweet scent lingers in the air—a mix of flowers and something distinctly comforting. You stir, the remnants of your dream still vivid: your impossibly hot neighbours had swept you off your feet, indulging in a passionate embrace and fucking you so good you’re pretty sure you died. The nights you dream of them are always that little bit better. Smiling, you let out a satisfied sigh, tugging the soft, firm thing in your arms closer. Must be a pillow, you think lazily, nuzzling into its warmth.

"Good morning, sweetheart," a familiar voice chuckles.

Your eyes snap open.

Agatha.

Not a pillow.

Not a dream...

You’re curled against her side, your head resting snugly on her stomach. She’s propped up slightly, her body warm and soft beneath you. An arm is draped around you, her hand brushing soothing strokes up and down your back as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. In her other hand, she holds a book, but as you blink up at her, she smiles and gently closes it, setting it aside.

"Mornin'," you mumble, your voice thick with sleep. You barely resist the urge to bury your face back into her, your cheeks burning as the realisation of last night fully dawns on you.

Agatha leans down and kisses the top of your head. The simple gesture sends warmth flooding through you. She tilts your chin up gently, her eyes twinkling with something unreadable. "Your clothes from yesterday have been washed and dried," she says, her voice soft and matter-of-fact. "And Rio’s in the kitchen making breakfast for us."

Before you can respond, Rio strides into the room, three mugs of coffee balanced expertly in her hands. She hands one to Agatha with a quick peck on her lips, then holds another out to you.

"Morning, sleepyhead," she says with a teasing grin, her tone impossibly warm.

"Thanks," you mumble, taking the coffee. She slides onto the bed beside you, lifting an arm and raising an expectant brow.

"Shift over," Rio says, wiggling her fingers invitingly.

"Hey! I was enjoying the warmth," Agatha protests, mock-affronted.

"Yeah, well, you’ve been enjoying it for the past couple hours," Rio shoots back.

"Hours?!" you exclaim, heat rising to your cheeks again as you sit up, coffee clutched between your hands.

"Well, yes," Agatha says lightly. "You were clearly very tired." She doesn’t elaborate, her smile mysterious, and Rio just hums in agreement, leaning back against the headboard as she pulls you snugly against her side.

—

The three of you share a leisurely breakfast in the kitchen—pancakes, eggs, and endless cups of coffee. Agatha and Rio exchange easy, affectionate banter, occasionally roping you into the conversation. They’re warm and welcoming, making you feel at home despite the lingering butterflies in your stomach.

"We were thinking of taking you out today," Agatha says as you finish the last of your coffee. "Just something casual. Then we’ll drop you off at the train station later."

Rio nods. "Sound good?"

You blink, momentarily startled by their kindness. "Yeah," you say softly. "Thanks."

They wave it off, smiling, and you excuse yourself to get changed into your freshly laundered clothes.

—

The day unfolds with relaxed simplicity. First, they take you to a cosy bookshop tucked into a quiet side street. Rio pulls a ridiculous rom-com novel off the shelf and insists on reading the blurb aloud, much to Agatha’s exasperation. Next, you stroll through a park, the crisp air filling your lungs as you wander past street performers and families enjoying their weekend. They buy you a coffee from a nearby cart, Agatha teasing you when you nearly spill it on yourself.

Afterward, they take you to a charming little boutique, where Agatha insists you try on a scarf that matches your eyes. “Perfect,” she declares, adjusting it around your neck with a soft smile.

By lunchtime, they lead you to a small, bustling restaurant with mismatched chairs and walls covered in framed photographs. The food is delicious—warm and filling—and the conversation flows easily. It feels surreal, sitting across from the two of them as if you’ve known them forever.

As the meal winds down, Agatha pulls your phone out of your hand. "We’re putting our numbers in," she announces, typing quickly, before sliding the phone to Rio, who does the same.

"We already have yours," Rio says, her voice warm. "If you ever need anything—anything at all—just give us a call or shoot us a text."

You nod, touched, and tuck the phone back into your pocket.

—

The drive to the train station feels bittersweet. They both walk you to the platform, hugging you when the train approaches.

"Thank you," you say again, your voice earnest as you meet their gazes.

Agatha’s smile is soft, her eyes lingering on you. "Take care, sweetheart."

"Don’t be a stranger," Rio adds, nudging your arm.

You wave goodbye as you board the train, watching them until they disappear from view. The train begins to move, and you sink into your seat, warmth blooming in your chest. You’re not sure what last night meant—or if you’ll ever fully understand it—but you know one thing for certain: you’ll never forget it.

—

It’s been five weeks since that weekend, and they still occupy your every thought. The scent of them in the air, the warmth of their arms, the gentle cadence of their laughter—it all plays on a loop in your mind. You’ve gone on a few dates with other people since then, trying to distract yourself, but nothing compares. Nothing satisfies.

A few nights ago, things hit a new low. In the midst of a heated hookup, as your date left a mark on your neck, you’d moaned Rio’s name. Somehow, you managed to laugh it off and keep going, but minutes later, when Agatha’s name slipped out, the whole thing came to an abrupt halt. You were left flustered, wet, and unsatisfied—wanting Rio and Agatha with a desperate ache you couldn’t shake.

You’ve thought about texting them. A thousand messages drafted and then deleted. What would you even say? They haven’t messaged you, either, you think. Were they waiting for you? Or was that weekend nothing more than a fun, fleeting indulgence for them—a way to “mix things up,” as Agatha had casually put it?

Tonight, you’re determined to move on. 

As you finish getting ready, you remind yourself to put them out of your mind. Your new date seems funny enough, and meeting them at a trendy bar feels like a step in the right direction. You’re going to have fun tonight. You’re going to be present.

—

The bar is loud and bustling, neon lights reflecting off polished surfaces. You try to focus on your date, but within minutes, it’s clear they’re not who you hoped they’d be. Their jokes are flat, their smile forced, and they’ve been unreasonably rude to the waitstaff. You make a mental note to leave as soon as politeness allows.

Then you see Agatha and Rio walk in, commanding the room without even trying. They’re magnetic, glowing under the low lighting, and your heart stumbles in your chest. What are they doing here? You’ve never seen them around before; okay, yes, they only live a few hours drive away, but their sudden appearance feels like a sign, though you’re unsure of what.

Agatha’s gaze sweeps across the room and lands on you. Her brows lift slightly, and a smirk tugs at her lips. Rio follows her line of sight, her expression shifting to something warmer—though there’s a flicker of irritation when her eyes land on your date. They exchange a look, and then both of them start making their way over.

Your date notices your distraction and huffs. “You gonna stop staring and pay attention to me, or...” Their tone is sharp, and they snap their fingers in your face.

Before you can reply, Agatha and Rio arrive at your table, flanking you on either side.

"Well, hello there," Agatha purrs, her voice warm but laced with something sharper. She leans in slightly, brushing her fingers lightly over your shoulder. "Fancy seeing you here."

Rio crosses her arms, her gaze fixed on your date. “Interesting company you’re keeping tonight,” she says, her tone neutral but her eyes anything but.

Your date bristles, clearly annoyed. “Who the hell are you two?”

Agatha straightens, her smile cool. “Friends. Good friends.” Her hand lingers on the back of your chair, fingers drumming casually but possessively.

Rio, meanwhile, focuses on you, her brow furrowed in faint concern. “You okay here?”

Your date scoffs. “We were just fine until you two showed up.”

Agatha chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Is that so?” Her gaze shifts to you, her expression softening just slightly. “Doesn’t look that way to me.”

Caught between them, you feel a mix of relief and embarrassment. You start to protest, trying to play it cool. “Guys, it’s fine. I—”

Agatha cuts you off, her voice firm but not unkind. “Sweetheart, we could see you weren’t enjoying yourself from across the room.”

Rio nods, her hand brushing against your arm. “You’re more than welcome to join us instead.”

Your date mutters something under their breath that sounds suspiciously like “fucking bitches," but Agatha and Rio ignore them entirely, their focus solely on you. The weight of their attention is overwhelming, and before you can fully process it, Agatha has her arm around your shoulder, guiding you out of your seat. Rio follows closely, her presence solid and reassuring.

—

They take you to an upscale restaurant, one far fancier than anywhere you’d normally go. You hesitate at the entrance, your protests spilling out in a rush. “This is too much—I can’t afford—”

“Our treat,” Agatha interrupts smoothly, holding the door open with a smile as Rio guides you forward, her hand firmly pushing on the small of your back.

The staff greets them by name—clearly they are regulars—and they lead the three of you to a cosy corner table. The atmosphere is intimate, the low lighting casting a golden glow. Over starters and mains, the tension between you shifts. What started as awkwardness melts into something electric.

Agatha and Rio tease you gently, their words laced with warmth and playful innuendo. Rio brushes her hand over yours when she reaches for the salt, and Agatha’s gaze lingers on your lips when you speak. The air between you crackles, the chemistry undeniable.

By the time dessert rolls around, you’re scratching absently at your neck, pulling the collar of your top aside. You don’t notice their gazes locking on the faint hickey, but you do feel the subtle shift in the room’s energy. Rio’s hand tightens on her wife’s thigh, and Agatha’s smile takes on a sharper edge.

Their questions come fast and pointed. “So, you’ve clearly been busy making friends since we last saw you?” Agatha asks, her tone deceptively casual.

Rio leans in, her eyes piercing. “What made you pick tonight’s winner?”

You stammer through answers, feeling their scrutiny like a physical touch. The intensity of their attention is both unnerving and thrilling.

Excusing yourself to the restroom, you take a moment to breathe. But as you wash your hands, the door opens, and Agatha steps inside. She leans against the counter beside you, her gaze heavy.

“Rio’s paying the bill,” she says, her voice low. Then her eyes drop to your neckline. “What’s this?” She tugs lightly at your collar, revealing the faint mark.

Heat floods your cheeks. “I—it’s nothing.”

She doesn’t respond, just steps closer, her hand brushing your arm. “We told you,” she murmurs, her voice dropping, “if you needed anything, you should call us.”

“I thought you meant a ride or—”

Her lips cut off your protest, the kiss firm and possessive. When she pulls back, her hand lingers on your arm, her eyes dark with intent. "Come,” she insists.

The air is thick with tension as Agatha’s hand wraps firmly around your bicep, her grip unyielding but not harsh. She leads you out of the bathroom without a word, and the sight of Rio waiting outside sends a fresh wave of heat through your body. Rio’s dark, smouldering gaze meets yours, and without hesitation, she steps forward, flanking you as Agatha moves to the other side.

The three of you walk in silence, their presence commanding, leaving no room for anything but anticipation. They don’t speak, and neither do you; trailing just behind them, your mind races. The click of their shoes on the pavement echoes in your ears, their hands brushing your arms or back every so often, steadying you, anchoring you.

—

When you reach a hotel, the atmosphere shifts. They lead you through the grand entrance, past a curious concierge, and into the waiting elevator. The doors close, and the small space amplifies everything—Agatha’s scent, Rio’s presence, the sheer weight of their eyes on you.

Agatha moves first, her hands gripping your waist as she pulls you to her. “We told you to call us,” she murmurs against your ear, her voice low and commanding, her fingers digging into your sides just enough to make you shiver.

Rio joins in, her hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Yet, there you were, clinging to some asshole,” she growls, her tone laced with irritation and something much darker. Her fingers tighten, forcing you to meet her gaze.

The elevator dings, the sound barely registering as they usher you out, their hands firm and guiding. They walk you down the plushly carpeted hallway, their pace unrelenting, and when they reach the room, Agatha pulls out the key card with practiced ease. The door swings open, and you’re all but pushed inside.

The air in the room feels charged, the door clicking shut behind you like the finality of a lock. You barely have a moment to take in your surroundings before they close in on you.

“You were supposed to ask us,” Agatha says, her voice sharp as she steps closer, her eyes blazing. “For anything. For everything.”

Rio crosses her arms, her jaw set tight. “Instead, we find that you’ve been busy making friends,” she demands, her tone snearing at the final word.

You stumble over your words, your pulse racing. “I—I wasn’t trying to— It’s just, I couldn’t stop thinking about you, and I thought maybe—”

“Maybe what?” Agatha snaps, cutting you off. “That you could distract yourself by throwing yourself at the first person who looked at you?”

“Yes! Wait, no!” You stammer. “All of the dates were just distractions, but none of them could get you guys out of my head.” You knew instantly you had messed up.

Rio’s eyes narrow. “All of the dates?” She repeats, her voice artificially soft.

“Uhhh… yeah, there’s been more than who you saw tonight,” you admit weakly, instantly regretting it when Agatha’s eyes flash with something dangerous.

“Clearly,” Rio hisses, stepping closer. Her hand shoots out, gripping your face firmly and tilting your head up so you can’t escape her gaze. “You are nothing but a common whore. I mean, just look at your neck.”

Agatha’s voice joins in, smooth and biting. “You’re ours. Don’t you get it? Ours. Not theirs, not anyone else’s.”

Your breath hitches, and you nod as best you can with Rio’s hand still holding your face. “Yes,” you whisper.

“Yes, what?” Rio prompts, her tone sharp.

“Y-yes, Mommy,” you manage, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

The effect is immediate. Rio’s lips crash against yours, the kiss claiming and consuming. Her fingers dig into your jaw, holding you in place as her tongue sweeps over yours, leaving you dizzy and breathless. 

Then Agatha’s voice fills the space, low and possessive.

“We’re not sharing you with anyone else,” she declares, her presence suddenly behind you. Her hands snake around your waist, pulling you flush against her as her mouth finds the mark on your neck. She bites down, hard enough to make you gasp into Rio’s mouth, and then she soothes the sting with her tongue before sucking hard, ensuring her mark overlays the one already there.

Her hands begin to roam, firm and deliberate. They slide under your top, her nails raking lightly over your skin, leaving tingling trails in their wake. One hand moves upward, cupping your breast, while the other drifts downward, deftly undoing the buttons of your pants.

“You’re ours,” Agatha murmurs against your skin, her voice like a promise and a warning all at once. Her hand slips into your underwear, her touch confident and unapologetic, as her mouth continues its path along your neck.

Rio finally breaks the kiss. “Is that understood?” She asks, her tone brooking no argument as she watches you with hooded eyes, her fingers brushing the edge of your jaw.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whisper, voice catching as Agatha’s fingers ghost over your clit. The words hang in the air, heavy with intent. 

It was a stab in the dark to use the term for Rio; you have no clue if she likes it or not. However, judging by the look on her face and the way she bit down on her own lip, it was a good choice.

Agatha chuckles against your neck, her teeth grazing your skin. “Good,” she murmurs, her hand moving with purpose. “Now let’s remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Rio starts kissing you again; it’s needy, like she’s trying to consume you. Meanwhile, both of Agatha’s hands find their way back to your waist, her fingers hooking under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with a firm motion. You feel her sink to her knees and bite your ass cheek as she helps you step out of your pants, and you let out a small yelp.

You feel Rio smile against your lips before pulling back and spinning you to face Agatha. She playfully nips at the shell of your ear before trailing her mouth lower, sucking and biting at your jaw and the sensetive spot behind your ear. Just as she licks a stripe up your neck, Agatha’s open mouth presses against your core.

“Oh, fuck,” you whimper, shuddering slightly.

“You’re so pathetic,” Agatha breathes, “you’ve ruined your underwear, like the slut you really are.” She drags her tongue over you slowly, tasting your arousal through the fabric. Not wanting to miss out, Rio’s hand lightly bats away Agatha’s head so she can cup you through your underwear, and you feel her exhale shakily against your ear from how wet you are. 

Your head drops backwards in pleasure, but Rio’s other hand is there in an instant, forcing your gaze down to Agatha. “Don’t forget, you need to look at Mommy, baby.”

From this angle, you can see straight down the front of Agatha’s sleek black halterneck dress. It’s plunging neckline had offered you a tantalising view at dinner, but this was something else entirely.

“Thank you, my love; you can get ready now,” Agatha states, coming up to stand next to you. She grasps your hair and roughly drags you to the bed, shoving your face down so you’re bent over the mattress. She clasps your wrists behind your back, securing them with makeshift cuffs made from a belt. 

Just as you’re wondering exactly where she got the belt from, you feel her lean down, pressing into your back. “If you’re going to act like a harlot, then we’ll treat you as such,” she whispers in your ear. 

She places a hand between your thighs and starts rubbing gently, and despite her calm demeanour, you can hear her breathing get more ragged. She pulls the fabric of your underwear to the side and starts ghosting her fingers over your clit. “We’re going to make sure you never ever forget who you belong to,” she whispers before thrusting two fingers inside you. 

You gasp slightly at the feeling, but your arousal soon coats her fingers, and the movements become smooth as you adjust to her. Even though it had been on your mind since you woke up in her bed, you had forgotten just how good sex with Agatha felt. You can feel her grinding into you as she’s fucking you, clearly desperate for some friction herself.

Suddenly she stops and climbs off you; you’re about to protest when your underwear gets ripped off. 

“Well, they were already ruined, and they’re just going to get in the way,” you hear Rio’s voice chuckle behind you. 

You’re expecting them to start touching you, but instead you hear sucking, and maybe... was that the sound of a gag? You crane your head back trying to see what’s happening, and the sight causes an involuntary moan to escape your lips: Agatha was kneeling in front of a naked Rio, her head bobbing back and forth. You can see a part of the dildo not in Agatha’s mouth, but you don’t see a harness.

“Is that a..."

“Yes, baby, I’m going to feel every thrust just as much as you; Agatha’s just getting this end ready for you," Rio answers. You actually feel yourself start to drip, and watch as Rio takes a sharp inhale as it trickles down your thigh. “I think they’re more than ready for me now, my love,” she adds, tugging softly at Agatha’s hair.

Agatha releases the strap but pushes down on it slightly, making Rio’s hips jolt as the other end shifts inside her. 

Regaining her composure, Rio strides over to you and grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking you up so you’re arched into her. You feel the strap glide over your heat, and you can’t help but grind into it, moaning at the smallest bit of pressure against your clit. Rio lines up with your entrance and pushes the tip in before quickly withdrawing.

“Who do you belong to?” she groans, thrusting into you. But before you can adjust, she pulls out, leaving you feeling empty. All you can do is whine.

You hear a loud smack as Rio’s open palm hits your bare ass. “I asked you a question.”

It stings, but the pain blurs into pleasure as you feel another brief thrust in and out. 

“You,” you moan, wanting to get fucked properly.

There’s fresh pain as Rio smacks you again.

“Daddy. I belong to you, Daddy.” It comes out as a sob, far more desperate than you’ve ever heard yourself.

“Mhmm, that’s it, sweetheart. Now I’m going to tell you exactly how Mommy likes to be eaten out, and you’re going to be a good pet and do exactly what I say, okay?” She presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Yes, Daddy.”

With your agreement, Rio releases you from your restraints and starts fucking you, her movements rough and deep. Agatha lies down in front of you, her legs spread, and you can see just how wet she is.

“I’d say you need to start by warming her up, but by the looks of it, she already is,” Rio says greadily. Then it was her turn to moan as your body jerks back into her from a particularly deep thrust.

“Well, since you decided to disobey us, watching Daddy teach you a lesson has really got me going," Agatha teases, “but I still need to feel your mouth on me, pet.”

You obey and bring your mouth close to Agatha’s pussy; you’re about to begin when you feel Rio smack you again between her thrusts. “I haven’t told you to do anything yet,” she snarls. “Start with broad licks up and down; you’ll need to pin her hips as Mommy’s rather sensitive and tends to squirm around.”

“Rio,” Agatha warns, giving you the impression she still has control over the woman behind you.

You do as you’re told and begin licking firm but broad. Rio was right; Agatha was very sensitive, and she bucks her hips every time you get near her clit. She buries her hands in your hair and pushes you into her. “Yes. Fuck, baby, that feels so good.”

Rio’s nails bite into your hip where she’s holding you, and she starts to thrust even harder. Her moans are loud and gutteral. “Okay, now start to circle her clit with the tip of your tongue.” Her voice is breathy. “Fuck, okay, fuck, I’m getting close,” she pants. “And every so often you should put your lips around it and suck a little.”

Once again you do as you’re told, and once again Agatha starts to writhe beneath you, grinding against your face. Rio wraps an arm around your waist, her fingers stroking your clit, and you moan at the added stimulation, so close to climaxing. 

The vibrations push Agatha even closer to her own orgasm as she gasps, "Mmm, I love what you’re doing, but I swear to fuck, if you don’t put your fingers inside me right now, pet, I will RUIN you.”

You’re torn. On the one hand, you want to make Agatha cum, but on the other, Rio hasn’t told you to do that yet, and you don’t want to find out what happens if you disobey her.

A hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just a bit, and Rio pulls you up; she stills her hips, but her fingers keep going. “Mommy gave you an order, sweetheart.” With no further warning, she pulls out and shoves you down next to Agatha. “Now you don’t get to cum until she has.”

You whine at the empty feeling, but it soon turns into a whimper as you watch Rio push the strap into Agatha, not even bothering to wipe it clean. 

Your eyes flutter closed as you start to fuck yourself when all of a sudden Rio’s hand is back around your throat. “Uh uh, bad pets don’t get to touch themselves.” She turns her head, looking at her wife. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re going to have to touch yourself since this slut can’t keep their hands to themselves.”

“I mean, technically, I was keeping them to myself. You know since I was touching myself and not either of you.” You’re smiling, proud of the loophole you found, until you spot how both women are glaring at you, realising the magnitude of your mistake.

“Oh no. Oh no no no,” Agatha scolds. “You will keep your mouth shut, your hands on the headboard, and your face to the wall until we say otherwise.”

You get up, crawling to the top of the bed, head drooping at the realisation that you won’t even get to watch them cum.

The room is quickly filled with moans and gasps as Rio and Agatha help each other through their orgasms, but it doesn’t stop, and you’re pretty sure that they go for rounds two and three. Pressing your thighs together, you grit your teeth, determined not to disobey them again. 

It feels like it’s been an eternity, but finally you hear Agatha call you back, and when you turn around to look at them, they are a complete mess with red bite marks scattered across both of their chests. Rio turns, grabbing something from her bag, and you see the large scratch marks Agatha has left all down her back. 

“Thank you, my love.” Agatha says, taking whatever it was Rio had grabbed. "Now, pet, you are going to ride Daddy’s cock, and I will join you in a minute.”

You nod, excited to hopefully get some reprieve from the ache of having your orgasm denied. “Yes, Mommy,” you add quickly, trying to avoid another punishment.

Rio lies down on her back, pulling you into a quick kiss. “Clean it first.” 

Humming with excitement, you lower your head and take the strap in your mouth; it’s still warm from being inside Agatha, and you groan at the taste of her on it. 

You only get a few seconds before Rio pulls you away, guiding your hips so you’re straddling her, hovering over the strap. “You look so perfect like this,” her voice is soft and encouraging. You lower yourself down and let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “So perfect,” she repeats.

“You feel so good,” you moan, starting to roll your hips.

Her hands grip your waist, helping you up and down, but it’s not enough, and she starts thrusting up into you. You stutter and fall forward into Rio, all your strength sapped from your muscles as she hits the perfect spot.

Agatha comes up behind you, her hand stroking your back. “Do you think you can take more, sweetheart?”

"Mhmm” is all you can manage before burying your head in Rio’s neck.

You were expecting some stimulation on your clit or maybe Agatha replacing Rio with something bigger. What you weren't expecting, however, was Agatha to push her own strap in as well. It stretches you at first, making you feel wonderfully full. 

“Oh fuck,” you mewl, biting down on Rio’s neck to suppress your moans

Agatha starts to move, causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound encourages her, and she starts to bare down harder. “You’re taking us so well, baby.” 

Rio hums in agreement. The force of Agatha’s thrusts sending fresh waves of pleasure through her. She drags her nails up your back, digging in with every jolt of your hips. “Don’t you ever forget who you belong to again,” she whispers, starting to mark your neck and shoulders with her mouth, and you feel your stomach start to knot.

Desperate for just that little bit more, you start begging. “Please, please, I need more.” 

You grab Agatha’s hand and shove it between your legs. Chuckling softly, she gives you what you need, and your orgasm comes crashing over you. 

It takes a few minutes, but both of them pull out when your legs finally stop shaking. Rio lets you lie on her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around you. “You did so good for us,” she purrs, pressing kisses to your temple and running her fingers through your hair.

You hear Agatha turn on the shower as she cleans up the toys, returning to the bed when she’s done. “Sweetheart, do you need anything?”

You shake your head weakly at Agatha’s question, your body still tingling from the intensity of your orgasm. Rio strokes your hair gently, her fingers trailing soothing patterns down your back. “You sure, baby?” Agatha presses, leaning down to run a hand along your calf, her touch grounding and warm. “Water? A snack? Anything at all?”

You finally manage to whisper, “Water, maybe.”

Agatha nods, a small, reassuring smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll be right back.” She kisses your knee softly before disappearing into the adjoining room. Rio continues her ministrations, cradling you as if you might drift away. “Just breathe, love,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your hairline. “We’ve got you.”

Agatha returns moments later with a glass of water and a cool, damp cloth. She perches beside you on the bed, offering the water with one hand while using the cloth to dab tenderly at your flushed face and neck. “There you go,” she coos, her voice soft and melodic. “Nice and slow.”

You sip the water, feeling the cool liquid revive you slightly. Agatha takes the glass once you’ve had your fill and sets it on the bedside table before tucking the blanket around you more snugly. “You did so well, sweetheart,” she murmurs, her fingers brushing lightly over your arm. “We’re so proud of you.”

After a while, Agatha glances at Rio and tilts her head toward the bathroom. “Let’s clean up, darling,” she says softly, giving your leg a reassuring squeeze. “You’ll feel even better after a warm shower.”

Rio carefully helps you sit up, her arms still supporting you as your legs wobble slightly. She and Agatha guide you to the bathroom, where the steam from the shower has already fogged up the mirror. The warmth of the room wraps around you as Agatha steps into the shower first, adjusting the water temperature before holding out a hand to you. “Come here, love.”

You step in with their help, the hot water cascading over you instantly soothing your sore muscles. Agatha stands behind you, massaging your shoulders and neck, while Rio lathers up a soft washcloth, gently cleansing your skin. Their touches are tender, unhurried, and filled with care. Agatha presses a kiss to your damp shoulder as she rinses you off, while Rio keeps her gaze locked on yours, a soft smile playing on her lips.

When they’re satisfied that you’re fully relaxed and clean, they wrap you in a fluffy towel and guide you back to the bed. The sheets have been straightened, and the pillows fluffed, creating a cosy nest that feels like heaven when you crawl back in. Rio slides in beside you, pulling you against her chest once more, while Agatha climbs in on your other side, her arm draping protectively over both of you.

“Better now?” Agatha asks, her voice a quiet hum as she brushes a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, a content sigh escaping your lips. “Much better. Thank you.”

Rio chuckles softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. “Anything for our pet.”

-----

As always, please like and reblog if you enjoyed :)

I have a few ideas for more chapters if people want??

Edit: Comment if you want to be added to the taglist for future chapters :)) - you must have your age in your bio

Part 3 out now

[littlelovelunette]

Ambessa x reader but Ambessa turned cold and distant overtime and because reader is still very caring and insecure she just doesn't do anything so that she doesn't upset Ambessa but then r gets gravely injured like an almost near death experience and Ambessa realizes she needs to get her shit together when reader tells her its fine and she doesnt have to bother because she's probably really busy.. it's to the point reader flinches at her touch because it's been so long(ambessa please just hug your wife she's sad and lonely) and just heavy angst/comfort:,)

Distance

Contains angst, mentions for violence

It's been months Ambessa had been cold to you. Cold and distant and every little bit of it hurt.

Whenever she was gone on long campaigns, you stayed up, waiting for her eagerly.

But you never spare a peep about your own distress, why must it bother Ambessa? She clearly had too much on her plate as it was.

Or so you thought.

Ambessa hadn't even realised she'd been mistreating her wife, completely throwing herself at whatever work would come by.

Her mind was in shambles. But so was your heart.

After a significantly bad battle, you were left bleeding. Your heart was slow and barely beating.

Ambessa had threatened every medic in town, she'd slaughter them or better yet make their life unliveable if they didn't make sure you were all perfect and good to go.

Your consciousness was coming and going and you had no clue for how long you were out but you wished was that Ambessa would start caring for you like she once used to.

Your eyes were fluttering open when Ambessa rushed to your side, shoving the medic to the side.

"Oh… you’re here," your voice came out in a weak rasp and your throat hurt to even speak. Your eyes were squinting due to the sudden light that hit them when you woke.

Ambessa moved closer to you, bending down. You seemed so small next to her.

"Of course I’m here," Ambessa said tenderly.

"You didn’t have to," you averted your gaze from hers, "I know you’re busy," your fingers played with the hem of the blanket you were covered with. Your injuries hurt, they hurt a damn lot. You could taste the metallic tang of your blood from your busted bottom lip.

Ambessa's golden eyes looked as strong as ever despite the inner turmoil threatening to break her.

"Busy?" Ambessa took a sharp breath, almost a scoff, "You nearly died. And you think I would just—" Ambessa cut herself off, she looked like she had nothing else to say. Rendered utterly speechless.

"No. Don’t do that. Don’t act like you don’t matter," Ambessa said getting up and pacing the room atleast four times before looking at you again.

"I know I matter," you said but the way your voice was teetering on the edge of a badly compressed sob gave your true feelings away, "I just… didn’t want to be a bother."

"A bother?" Ambessa scoffed, eyes softening when she looked at you with newfound affection, more than before. Different than before. She took a step closer to you, "Is that what you think? That you’re… a bother to me?"

"...I don’t know," your tone was more questioning than an answer, you tried to get up but decided against it. Your ribs felt like they'd crack under pressure anytime soon.

Silence. Then, the faintest brush of her fingers against hot feverish skin.

"I only—" Ambessa started but she cut herself off once again. This time not due to her own lack of words or her indecisiveness of what to say.

This time because you flinched as if you were afraid she was going to hurt you. Something Ambessa dearly hoped never to happen.

"…You flinched."

"I didn’t mean to," you said that like it was your fault that you flinched, as if it wasn't you waiting up all this time for Ambessa to come home from all those long campaigns.

Another silence, heavier this time. Then, Ambessa moved, and she embraced you in front of all the medics who had pure astonishment written across their faces. They'd never seen the fearsome warlord of Noxus so vulnerable before.

And now there Ambessa was holding you close as if you meant absolutely the world to her and for the first time in a long while, you felt alive again.

"Come here."

"Ambessa, you don’t have t—"

"Come here."

"I’m so sorry," Ambessa's apology was a whisper against your ear, soft and so unlike her, "I let you believe I didn’t care. I let you flinch away from me."

"It’s fine, you—" you began but you knew you were only making up excuses for the things Ambessa had done.

"No," Ambessa wouldn't allow you to try to make her look better to even her ownself, she knew her faults and she'd accept them. You were her wife. You deserved at least that bit from her, "That won’t happen again."

"Please don’t let go."

"Never."

[cryptotheism]

The Bear: "Okay here, got another question from a caller...ahem. Howdy girls, love the show. I gotta ask. What rigs do you personally run?"

Lilly: "Well I run a-"

"Hold it Lil. Before you yap everyone's ears off, I got an idea. I know what you like. You know what I like. How's about I describe your rig, and you describe mine?"

"Oh but I wanna yap! It's the radio Bear, people tune in for the yappin."

"You can yap! Just not about your Mako. And just to torture ya, I'm gonna go first."

"Fine! Fine! You better make me look good though!"

"Lil here runs a Pointer&Short Mako S-610. For those that don't know, only about 3000 of these things exist. They were a sleek custom job for some fancy courier service that went belly up about a century ago. I don't even wanna know how much it's cost Lil to restore this thing-"

"The parts are all original-"

"Aht aht aht, it's my turn. But yeah, the parts are all original. Original hand-machined bioceramic plating. Original glossy red paint. Original custom fins and gilding. This thing even has custom vinyl upholstery. This nut learned upholstery for this rig."

"Tell em about the coat."

"The coat? Oh right. So, the Mako's bioceramic is an older formula. It's heavier than the modern stuff, heals slower, and it scars. But Lil's? Not a scratch on the damn thing. She moisturizes it folks. She moisturizes her rig."

"Damn right I do! You tell me a machine that pretty doesn't deserve it! And hey when's my go?"

"Oh by all means take the floor."

"The bear drives an Atlas P2. Now, some of you out there are thinkin' 'thats it? My dad has an AP2' Well you ever wonder why your dad has an AP2? There's a good reason for it."

"It is not a Dad Rig."

"Bearie, it's a Dad Rig. Just embrace it. Listen, three words. Ease of modification. There is not a single part in the AP2 that ain't cheap, available, and standard. It is the canvas upon which my lovely gearheaded obsessive of a co-host will paint."

"You're makin me sound like a weirdo!"

"Bearie I haven't even started."

"Now listen here!-"

"Nope! My turn! Listen, Bear here likes to futz. She would call it optimizing, or tinkering. But I call it futzing. I think she's tuned up every last damn nut and bolt in this thing. The AP2 is a general purpose work rig. But I think I could do brain surgery in this Rig."

"Well maybe not brain surgery.-"

"Will you shut up!" [The microphone picks up a playful batting noise.] It's a gorgeous piece of engineering. Brilliant! But you know what color she painted it?"

"Oh come on-"

"Grey! She painted the damn thing grey! Her co-host is a lifelong expert on bodywork detailing, and this bitch paints her rig grey!"

"Alright alright settle down! That's gonna do it for this episode of screw loose!"

[batlovebites]

Thinking about how the beasts would deal with a mortal partner's mortality catching up to them. Here's some quick thoughts on that.

Content Warning: death (via old age or sickness) and murder (because these guys do not handle it well.)

Shadow Milk seems like the one who deals with the idea of his partner's mortality the best, up until his partner is on death's door- if its sickness, he'll stop at nothing to find a way to cure it. If its age, though...

I think he'd try to find a way to make his partner immortal, too. But when that fails, I think he'd immortalize them as a puppet. Its not the real them, no, but its them from before age started to take them from him. Its them in whatever the 'best' period of their life was.

After they pass he uses it to cope but he has to control the simulacrum's actions so it actually just makes him feel worse because its obviously not them. It looks like what they looked like at one point, it acts how he remembers them acting, but how he remembers them isn't the same as how they actually were. But he doesn't stop because he'd rather try to convince himself of the lie they're still around than live with the truth that they're gone.

The illusion/puppet he makes progressively becomes less and less convincing as his memories are altered and exaggerated with time and repetition. In their absence, Shadow Milk starts to glorify them in his memory, completely disregarding any of their flaws or negative aspects that made them an actual full person; Which then makes the puppet act progressively less and less how they actually did.

Eventually probably disregards the simulacrum as its no longer even slightly convincing. But sometimes, when he thinks about them again and his heart starts aching, he conjures it up again to try to live the lie that they're still here again, just for a little bit longer. It always falls apart again, but there's brief moments where he can almost convince himself, so he keeps doing it.

Burning Spice is. Complicated! Would also want to make his partner immortal probably, but if that's proven to be impossible... I think he 'mercy' kills them, before age can affect them too much. When their hands start shaking, their memory begins to slip, their body slowly turning to dust beneath them, so slow they can hardly tell its happening- but Burning Spice has seen time claim a hundred thousand lives before, and can see it happening to them all too clearly.

Burning Spice doesn't want to let time take his partner from him, so he does it himself. Having control over their demise makes him feel better about it, if only slightly. Doesn't let them know its going to happen, because he wants their last memory of him to be pleasant. Just embraces them- and then promptly snaps their neck. Quick. Painless. Over before they could ever even know it happened.

He does view it as an actual mercy in a way, but its mostly a matter of him needing to feel like he was in control of when and how they died as opposed to them being taken from him. Change and destruction is his domain, he does not like it when those things are happening beyond his control, so he takes control of the situation himself.

Burning Spice is also quick to redirect any other emotion into anger because that's easier to manage, so the stages of grief he goes through are all just filtered directly into Anger and used as fuel to destroy more things. No one else would even be able to tell he's mourning at all, but deep down, he is, even though he doesn't want to. He's seen this happen over and over again, it shouldn't affect him anymore. He's angry at himself for letting it affect him. For letting himself grow attached to something- someone- he knew would be nothing but ash beneath his feet within a century in the first place. And yet...

Mystic Flour would perhaps put some effort in looking into how to make her partner immortal, just so that they could see everything else be reduced to flour with her before they both also were reduced to nothing. But she's not too torn up about it if unable to.

She starts to treat her aging partner as if they were already dead at a certain point, which certainly doesn't feel great for them. Comforting them about their inevitable and rapidly approaching fate is not a very nice thing to hear when they are currently still alive, probably have at least a few years of life left in them, and would probably like to enjoy those last few years rather than just think about their approaching death the whole time.

If their old age comes with any particularly high amounts of pain or memory loss, she's likely to speed up the process as a 'mercy'; Inflicting them with the Pale Ailment, which kills them within the day.

The whole day she holds and comforts them until they are reduced to flour, telling them soon they will feel nothing- no joy, yes, but also no pain. That there's nothing to fear. She sits there for a little longer after they're gone, still speaking comfort. Then she gets up and leaves; She feels nothing about it. Nothing at all.

Yet... a part of her, buried deep under layers of apathy, does wish they had lasted longer. Been at her side to see the rest of the world be reduced to flour first. Oh well.

Also, while I can't give proper thoughts until she's released, I think Eternal Sugar would probably Sleeping-Beauty her partner. Lock them in an eternal rest where they're basically dead, but their body does not age or rot further, and they're technically still breathing, so its like they're still there with her! (<- Coping extremely hard.)

[nerdygirlramblings]

is it finally happening? 🤷🏻‍♀️

previous

The day you are cleared to return to duty, Adam texts you to come to the admin building, that Price needs to see you. You make your way back, sluggish and insecure. You hate your heats; they are a tangible reminder of your secondary designation. Yes, alphas have their ruts. They too get lost to their designated. But theirs is a drive to take and claim. Yours is, unfortunately, a drive to be taken. Claimed. Owned. And nothing embarrasses you more than the war inside between your desire to be independent, recognized for your own work, and your omega's desire to be possessed.

You're sure this meeting is about the pack. Price himself said you needed to talk about being pack after your heat. It was something you've been thinking about since Ghost's rut and the conversation with your parents, but you desperately need it to be on your terms. You know you want a pack - you've stopped lying to yourself about that - and you know they're open to courting you, at least they were when you first joined. But maybe that's changed? Maybe Price wants to tell you all you'll ever be is their teammate. And the rational part of you embraces that idea, likes being without a pack, appreciates the idea that any pack you might join wouldn't possibly interfere with your work. But your omega is violently making her presence known, snarling in your head, snapping at you when you think it would be better if Price and the others don't want you anymore.

Because she desperately wants them.

You're a little worried that you might have even cried out for Price and Ghost during your heat. Medical would have heard, but they won't say. You were too afraid of what the answer would be, so you didn't even ask when you left this morning.

Adam looks up as you walk over, comfort and concern clear on his face. "How are you doing?" he asks gently. His gaze travels over you, and you know he's cataloging every inch of your haggard appearance. With a frown, he asks, "Are you sure you've been cleared?" Technically, yes, base medical said you could resume your duties but they didn't recommend that you should. At least not for another day or two. This heat was apparently harder on your system than the previous one and the two you'd had at your last post. You know it's because your omega found her pack, and you denied her access to them.

Instead, you paste a smile on your face and wave Adam's well-intentioned concern away. "Yeah, just a bit tired is all. A little kip this afternoon should fix it," you tell him.

His frown is more pronounced, but he doesn't push. "Okay." You hear the skepticism. "They're all in the conference room."

You draw in a quick breath, and you can't keep your voice steady when you say, "Conference room? All?!" You hate how you practically squeak out the last word. Adam nods, and you walk stiffly to the door. When you open it, you're shocked to see Laswell on the screen. How humiliating will this be? It's one thing for them to decide they don't want you and cut off that avenue before it starts. It's another to do it in front of the woman who tasks your missions. How much of a failure will she see you as now? Will she even want your help?

"Ren, thank goodness," Laswell says when she sees you on screen. "We were about to get started, but I needed you here first."

You look at Price, hoping for some guidance about why Laswell would start a conversation about you not becoming their omega without you. The look he gives you in return is one of pure confusion. For the first time since receiving Adam's text, you find yourself unsure of your footing. Adam never said why Price wanted to see you, only that he did. Maybe this isn't about being pack after all.

You slide into the seat next to Gaz, same as last time, and Laswell starts. "First, the plan you and Gaz had, Ren, to snatch bits of info from everyone in Spinner's orbit gave us so much information to sift through we had to bring on extra analysts." You hang your head, ready to be scolded for causing trouble with your hairbrained idea. "But we picked up a number of threads we probably would have otherwise missed," Laswell continues. "That was some great out-of-the-box thinking," she praises.

Next to you, Gaz sits a little straighter and says, "The idea was all Ren, Laswell."

"Then, my thanks, Ren," she says, addressing you directly. "Between the little crumbs we got, and the information about the previous function Spinner attended, we were able to connect several targets to potential illegal activity. Which is why I want you and Gaz to attend the dinner in Waterloo this week. I was able to not only get tickets but put you at a table near enough to Spinner he'll be bound to spot you. Captain Price said he seemed to take an interest in you. I need you to lean into that-"

Ghost lets out a low growl, loud enough to be heard in the room but too quiet for the mic to pick it up. Price clears his throat, and from the corner of your eye, you see Soap reach out and put a hand on the lieutenant's arm. All the while Laswell keeps talking.

"-and see if Spinner is interested enough to reveal anything else. I'll arrange for Adam to take you shopping again."

"An' I need another collar," you blurt. Laswell and the team look at you. "I know 'e's this well-meaning socialite on the surface, but 'e's dark. I can get close to 'im, but I'm not doin' it without a collar." You try to keep the fear from your scent, but you haven't started the blockers again, and you worry it bleeds through the patches you threw on in medical.

Thankfully, Price and Gaz support you. "You didn't see 'ow he was wi' her, Laswell," Gaz says as Price tells you, "We'd never send ya into a situation like that without havin' yer back." You hear the whisper of Ghost's voice add, "We protect wha's ours."

next

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[polaris-daydreams]

the art of noticing

pairing : benjamin poindexter x reader

warnings : extremely suggestive below read more, not outright explicit in detail (cause im not talented enough for full on smut lol) but just to be safe, don't read if below 18 !! quite a few religious themes/imagery too.

a/n : hii ! i've never written fanfiction before let alone anything spicy but the dex brainrot was too strong so please bear with me. special thank you to @kyamiia for inspiring me and letting me expand on the idea based on this, and to @babyangeldex for being THE sweetest ever with her encouragement, especially on me wanting to write for the first time !! credits for the header images goes to @bullseyelover, THE no1 bullseye fan hi i love you !! hope you enjoy fellow dex lovers <3

dex notices things.

it started even before you guys got together.

dex's eye for details only intensifies when he crawls his way into your heart. your home. your shared home. it was one thing being able to look through the glass of your apartment window, studying your routine. timing his sips perfectly to yours, anticipating that look of bliss when the coffee hit just right. pretending that faraway look and smile out the window was directed to him, reserved for him.

now though, dex doesn't have to be delusional anymore. there's no need to time his drinking with yours because he is making your coffee and spending the mornings with you. he knows just how you like it. he's memorised all your morning routine steps, catalogued every small tick in your face when you eat your breakfast, has your glossy eyes from watching your favourite romcom seared into his brain. he knows how to see that satisfied and "on cloud 9" face. how to be the reason for that pleasure.

when you laugh at dex's poor attempt of a joke, really laugh with your eyes crinkling in the corner, he thinks his heart stops. he thinks this is it. the sound of an angel come to gently lead him towards the afterlife, with the way your laughter wraps around his body like the soft embrace of an angel's wings.

so it makes perfect sense for dex's penchant for noticing to seep into your shared bedroom too. he needs to remember everything, he needs to file away every little sound, every facial expression. keeps it in the folders of his mind, locked away for nobody else to see. only unlocking these memories when he's hard at work, away from his angel. clings to the image of you, the sound of you like a lifeline. counts the seconds down to when he can finally lock up his place of worship again because you're back in his arms. but its not just for himself, to keep his hunger satiated. its for you too. so he can replay your reactions to everything he does and says. analyse what made you feel good. what can make you feel even better. let you float up to the same high he gets from watching you, being with you. don't worry, he'll be there to catch you in his protective embrace when you land back down.

the first time he sunk to his knees for you, he never took his eyes away from you. couldn't bear to, not when your face was so beautifully contorted in pleasure, pleasure he was giving to you. the rising pitch of your voice, the up and down movement of your chest, the low tilt of your eyes to keep that eye contact with him going. when you absentmindedly reach for dex's hair, tugging the short hairs at the back while begging with that sweet saccharine voice of yours,

"pl- please dex, i can't anymore. i need, ohmygod, i need it please, i need you dex"

it takes every. single. cell. in dex's body to not roll his eyes to the back of his skull and finish in his pants then and there. his years of military training, experience as FBI-SWAT all lead up to this moment. to practice that honed skill of restraint. he can't let go until you have, until you've reached that peak. when you do, you collapse backwards with a heaving chest. dex unclenches his bruising (posessive) grip on you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. not to waste a single drop, he licks his hand clean while slowly standing back up from his place of worship.

the sight that greets dex has him believing in God.

your hair is tousled just above your head like a halo.

your eyes that look up at him are completely glossed over, a single tear slowly cascading down the right side of your face.

your smile, oh, your sweet loving smile. directed at him, only him as if he was the answers to your prayers.

those aren't what drives dex over the edge though, oh no.

its you.

you looking like the epitome of an angel.

slowly hiking up your legs, opening them up shyly.

"more? please, dex?"

if this is how dex dies, he believes its worth it.

a/n : thank you so much if you've read to the end <3 !! this is very very beginner so pretty please be nice if you reblog with comments/ramblings, though i'd still appreciate any kind of support with likes/reblogs/comments hehe. (also yes i wrote this on my phone on drafts, and nearly got a heart attack when the draft vanished and accidentally uploaded before i was done so if you saw ... no you didnt)