#i want someone to ask for my obedience and see that its given immediately and entirely. i want someone to take this weight from me

[dad-fucky]

Thinking about meeting with my tutor after their class to talk about my performance, my direction in life and my aspirations and goals. Only taking it half seriously as i take everything, their genuine concern and guidance met with avoidance more than dismissal, but still frustrating for them. They tell me im a smart man, with a potential they would hate to see me waste because of apathy. I listen to placate them more than anything else. When they say that it would benefit me to plan for my future, to find my passion and dedicate myself to it, i scoff lightly, breaking eye contact and smiling a little as i brush off their earnest pleading with a teasing "yeah, whatever dad." When i look back after a beat, their face has changed. The stillness and silence in the room suddenly tight with tension as i realise they didn't brush that one off. They look me up and down with a casual sort of surveyance as i break eye contact again, swallowing thickly as i try and fail to keep my breathing steady. "Look at me." Their voice is smooth and even. My obedience is instant. They speak more concisely now, more deliberate. As they continue I'm hanging on their every word, as if under a spell, nodding gently in answer to any questions, otherwise still and rapt. We sit in silence for a few moments. "Sometimes," they begin, slow and calm, "a person will need more guidance than a classroom allows." My heart is beating so hard against my chest im sure they can hear it. "If you would let me, i want to give that to you." Im dizzy. I feel myself nodding quickly. "Speak up." Its a gentle correction, but i feel like i'm on fire. "Yes."

"Yes, Daddy." They correct.

"Y-yes. Yes, Daddy." We sit in the silence again, me firmly in their grip, waiting on their command.

[heartfullofleeches]

Good Boy

Male Sub Yan Bully + G.N Reader

"I only need a good boy by my side, and I don't mean someone who'll have me home by eight. I want an obedient pet. Will you be that for me?."

Warnings/Tags: Top/Dom Reader, Anal Sex/Pegging, Cross-dressing, Light Degradation and pet play. Reader's gender is (obviously) never stated, but their parts are referred to as dick for ease.

Anyone with working eyes could see how whipped that boy was for you.

From the day he pushed past you in the hall, a faint spark started his heart stemming from the dismissive glare you back shot his way. That flicker was the match that blew everything into an explosive mess for your attention, igniting any obstacle in its wake. Your fellow peers avoided you for the continued safety of their fingers and social life, and every which way you turned he was there. His physical harassment didn't go beyond shoving you out of his way or snatching pencils and things meant for trash.

You never acted out against him - to his. Never ratted him out or even raised your voice. You hardly talked to him at all and that pissed him even off more. To make matters worse you were cordial in your brief encounters, and even threw off-handed comments his way. Trailing your fingers up his bicep when he forced himself at your table. Saying he looked "nice" with his hair up and out of the way of those pretty eyes. It drove him mad. He knew you knew he was too chicken shit to actually put hands on you and didn't bother wasting your energy to provoke him.

Recently, your dynamic had taken yet another turn. One, uneventful Monday morning, you strolled right up to his locker and patted him on the head as you walked off to class. His knees turned to jelly, and he nearly had a locker door slammed in his face following your hand as it left his soft locks. At lunch that very same day, you sat in his lap and even fed him his food - so long as he rushed through that project for his next class he was intentionally planning to fail. When the grades were sent back and you caught wind of his score, you kissed him on the cheek and ruffled his hair like you did before. His goons spread rumors of the two of you dating, but now everyone believed it with the leash you had around his neck. If he didn't get himself into detention, another pat. Good grades? Two kisses - if he work school appropriate clothing. Your switch from pretending he never existed to dotting on him like you were actual lovers boggled his mind to no end. What made you see him differently?

"This thing is way too damn short. I told you I'm not putting on fucking her bra - that's gross. Where the hell is my phone.. What the fuck?... give it to me. Post that and I will fucking ki-"

Oh - that would explain thing. It would explain a lot actually. All those weeks back, Erin had been asked by a friend to help deliver his sister's clothing to a nearby shelter with a few beers as payment. One of them had the brilliant idea to have a drinking contest with the loser having to try on her clothes. When it was discovered he had been pouring his into the grass, Erin was immediately disqualified and given his dues. They took video and posted it to his private page - forgetting about the person he made follow back. In all honesty, Erin had no problem wearing feminine clothing. It was just that everything that girl had absolutely shit tastes in fashion and not at all to kiss liking.

What he had on now was exactly his style.

Sliding a hand up his outer thigh, you loop two fingers through the heart shaped buckle attached to his garters and thigh highs. The spaghetti straps of his crop top hand loose and torn off his shoulders; neck and chest decorated in dark bruises and teeth marks. Circling your tongue around his puffy nipple, you pull it between your teeth - just to watch him squirm as your lips break contact with his chest; the strip of leather hanging from his thigh crackling against his skin as you retch your fingers free. He whimpers mutely, rubbing the stinging flesh into the mattress to prolong that fading bite. Grabbing his knee causes him to stop immediately, looking up at you with those pretty, pleading eyes through the whispy, dark ginger locks clinging to his sweaty forehead and cheeks. You smirk.

"What a good boy."

It had all been a test. You saw that video, and you had to have him. You knew he could be obedient with the right motivations and there was none better than giving yourself - and a little praise, to him. As usual, Erin was pissed when he found out you were training him like some.. dog, but he couldn't deny the guilty pleasure of you turning him into your bitch in front of the whole school. His cock throbs in his panties as his hazy mind replayed the billionth loop of you calling him yours; the phantom heat of your breath against his ears sending chills. Erin bucks away from the hand placed over the bump in his skirt so you wouldn't notice the pulse, but you certainly had. You close your fingers around his length, stilling him as another gloop of drool rolls past his lips.

"Eager Boy! I would love to help you with this, but.... I only need a good boy by my side, and I don't mean someone who'll have me home by eight."

You drop your lips to his ear, teasing the shell in just the way that made him cry out everytime. His little bated moans were the cutest thing.

" I want an obedient pet - and lover. Will you be that for me, Erin."

His cock ached at the first title; his heart sung at the next. He'd do anything to relieve the tension in both areas. Anything to be yours. Licking his bitten lips, he nods.

"I'll be good...."

You reach up to stroke his cheek. Erin nips at your fingers, rolling the metal ball of his piercing between each. He spits directly in your hand.

"Freak."

His chest rises with a shaky laugh, yet there's nothing but obedience in those eyes. It's a work in progress. You smack the meat of his thigh with your spit covered hand; the sound and force of the saliva hitting his send immeasurable. The e way his mouth falls open as he gasps - you would've thought he came right then and there if his solid erection wasn't in your opposite hand.

"You're lucky I'm nice. Turn over, pretty boy."

Leaning back, you help Erin lift his leg over your head as he turns over onto his stomach. Scooting forward, his ass falls into your lap as he sinks down. You raise the skirt that barely covered much to begin with and slip those lace panties down; pre-ejaculate smeared into its crotch. You wish you hand more time to appreciate his attire or shove those frilly garments down his throat, but as soon as he came through your door it was too your bedroom - and you wanted to hear his sounds nice and clear for your first time together. There would be plenty more nights in the future for you to do whatever your heart desired. Reaching forward, you tap his lips with your finger.

"Spit? Since you've already proven you don't mind getting your drool all over your master."

Erin opens his mouth - letting out a gagged yelp of surprise as your fingers shoot down his throat. He's never been more thankful for the lack of a reflex. Regaining what little composure he hand, Erin swirls his tongue around your fingers and hollows his cheeks as he suckles them as you drag them out his mouth. His head falls into the pillow as you draw your arm back to position; spreading his asscheeks as your lubricated thumb teases his hole. It slips in easier than you imagine and his back muscles go taught.

"Have you fingered yourself before?"

Erin buries his face in the pillow, eyes avoiding your stare. ".... toothbrush."

"Pfft - you whore. I was wondering what happened to that. Guess I don't have to ask who you were thinking about while you did it."

"At least you go your brains if anything ever happens to your face."

Frowning, you yank the hair still trapped in the scrunchie he wore. "Bad dog. Guess you won't need the prep then."

Removing your finger, you lend your cock to his hole. He hooks one arm under the pillow and reaches the other behind him. You take his hand and lock your fingers with his as you slip inside; pinning the limb to his back as you sink in. You pull your knees from under him and plant them in the mattress as you drag your girth out of his tight hole. Erin drops his free hand between his legs, but you quickly add your weight to his arm - immobilizing him.

"Ah-ah, I didn't say you could do that did I?"

Erin grumbles something under his breath, but thankfully you don't hear it. As a reward for staying still you kiss along his back up to the nape of his neck, right below his choker where you plant your teeth as you start off at a gradual pace. His skirt falls pack down a couple times which you lose care of after a while and let drap at your thighs. He keeps his lips separated from the pillow so his heavy breathes are audible - just like he knew you wanted. Such a good boy. Dropping your grasp to his waist, you tug him back with each thrust - virtually bouncing the drooling boy on your cock. His greedy hole and desperate whimpers suck you back in. Pleads he tempts to conceal with his moans ringing longer no matter how exaggerated his sounds become. Like everything when it came to you - he just couldn't keep it in.

"ngh...y/n...please...hah... give more."

"You want more this so soon? Hm, you've been good enough so far."

Yelping as your hips snap against the curve of his ass, Erin rocks his with a stutter - rutting his aching cock into the mattress chasing friction you refuse to provide. Your hand cracks hard against his right cheek and his back arches against your sweaty bare chest as he all but screams into the pillow now forced into snuffing his cries. You grab his jaw and his head pivots back to look up at you.

"So noisy.... It's unsightly of you, Erin. Like you're a different person now you've got a few inches in you. Tell me, are you my good little puppy or some bitch in heat using my dick to get off?"

Tongue petaled around your thumb, Erin cries out beneath its weight. "Mmph.." You lift your finger, smearing his drool into his cheek as you turn his head to face you.

"What was that, boy?"

"y-yours... 'm yours, I promise. I can be both. Please let me be both."

"We'll see about that." Standing on your knees, you yank Erin along with you and lock your arm around his neck to keep him from falling as you drill upwards into him. His cock bobs with each hammer of your hips into his and you have enough mercy to stroke him to completion as his eyes roll back in his head. You mouth more marks into his neck and shoulder blades, scrapping your teeth on the bone. Your name bleeds off his tongue like it's the only he's ever known and right now there couldn't be a truer statement. You suck one more fresh hickey to his neck and work on to his jaw, licking the stray tears that drip down to the corners of his mouth as you crush his windpipe in your hold - darting your tongue past his gasping lips. Erin groans in the blissful heat of the thirsty kiss, cumming into your hand and onto his thighs and your pillow. You rub the sensitive flesh for a few more strokes before letting him fall into his own mess. You join him on the unstained pillow and scoop your arm under his neck. He scoots over, resting his head on your chest - eyelids droopy and body slack. You brush his hair out of his face, pressing a kiss to his clammy temple.

"A quick rest, then it's the showers before bed for you, Mister.. You did amazing for me. Clean?"

You extend your hand; palm glazed with his spend. Erin scoffs, lips twitching into a faint smile.

"You're such a dick."

He sweeps his tongue over the salty fluid and licks it off the ball of your fingers, cringing at the taste, but doing as asked for once.

"True, but I'm your dick now."

He stops - eyes soft and more vulnerable than the entirety of your session. "You... were serious about that?"

"Of course. You're a good boy, Erin - when you want to be. I like you."

His head falls back to your chest, hand finding yours. "i... love you."

-

The next day at school, you walk in together with your wrist in his hand. You'd let him keep his big dog act for just a little longer. Stopping at your longer, Erin spots the one that got away - some little shit that snuck a note in your locker and fled his fury due to the teacher standing in the hall. His right hand tightens into a ball.

"Erin."

The student looks your way, shocked seeing the two of you so close. His shoulders relax as he shoves the fist into his pocket. Thankfully, you didn't have every period together. "See, i wasn't doing nothing."

You peck his cheek with a smile. "Good boy.

[the-ate-show]

00:08 Fortuity Wc: 2.4k SHORT CHAPTER WARNING

You gasped, coming face to face with 6, who flung 2 across the space. You couldn’t pay attention to what was really going on, all you know is you were tackled by someone, who promptly began to go at your face with their fists. It was 5 likely, considering 6 went to free 8, but it was hard to see with the tears obstructing your vision. You wondered if you’d lost a few teeth, or maybe your skull shattered or something. 

You awoke to your arms being tightened behind your back, a throbbing headache pushing at the front of your skull. You groaned, blinking the stars out of your vision, to find yourself face to face with 6. You gasped a bit.

“Morning princess. Didn’t hit you too hard did I? We’ve been waiting for you for a while,” 6 teased, pressing the revolver he possessed into your skull. You growled at him. “One of you took things too far,” he stepped back. “I’m down 8 toenails. So tell me, which one of you did this?” He sat back on the spinning thing. “I really underestimated you guys. My bad.”

He got up, pointing his bat at 3. “Did you do this?”

“No. I’d never do that. I swear, okay?”

“And you?” he pressed the wooden thing into 1’s face.

“It’s not me. I swear! I mean it.”

“You?” he tilted your jaw up.

“No, it’s not me,” you stuttered.

“You?” he asked 7, who shook his head promptly.

“That leaves… you.” he said to 2. “It checks out, given your feelings for me. I’m a rational guy. I get it. ”

He sat back on the ground and chuckled, “I get it, the need for revenge. But one of you just took things too far. I mean- this isn’t revenge this is just torture.” he laughed maniacally. “I’m speechless guys, really I am,”

He reached back, grabbing a revolver, “When I was tied up, not only was I thinking about busting the attacker, but also about an interesting way to do it. A little game, russian roulette, you know it right? There’s one bullet in here, you’re odds are one in five,” he got up, pointing it at 2’s head. “I won’t shoot your head, no, I’ll aim it at your leg, it’ll be way worse,” he chuckled. “Now, shall we begin?”

He crouched in front of 2, who gasped for air, shaking at the prospect.

“Who did it?”

“I don’t know!”

He did a slow little countdown, which she repeated that she didn’t know, and then he pulled the trigger. She screamed, but the gun clicked, and nothing was shot. 

“Lucky girl. Today is your day. But still, I think you deserve a little beating,” he grabbed the bat and began to hit her. She grunted and yelped, but generally got off easy compared to what could've happened.

“Now,” 6 pushed his hair back, panting. “Our dear mr. limousine liberal, you know the culprit?”

“No. I don’t know who it is,” he shot back immediately, breaths shallow and quick.

“So you have no idea? Okay. Here we go,” he aimed the gun at his inner thigh, pressing it into him tightly. Yu shook aggressively, 6 continued to taunt. “Ready? It’ll sting a little,” he reacted to your terrified look with a little grin. “Keep her watching,” he told 5, who obediently came to keep your head in place. 

“You’re supposed to reset the gun,��� you spoke between pants of air. “Reroll th-” he shot before you could finish.

The shot echoed in the otherwise quiet arena. Your screams mixed with that of the others. Yu collapsed, blood draining out of him like a faucet. He convulsed, groaning and screaming and sobbing. 5 was quickly by his side, wrapping his leg to prevent further blood loss. Silent tears flowed down your face as 6 reloaded the gun, spinning it and crouching in front of you.

Yu screamed especially loud as 5 tied him up, and you let out a choked sob, wanting desperately to help. You kept your gaze fixated on his weak form. He was so desperate for just some kind of relief.

“Don’t worry about him,” 6 moved your jaw to face him with the gun. You cried harder at its sight, and the man smirked like a villain, wiping your tears with the metal. “You’ll be fine, one in five chances right? Tell me, who’s the culprit,” he trailed the gun down your arm, down your thigh and tapped the area just above your knee. You whimpered slightly.

“I don’t know,” you said between sniffles. “I don’t know!” 

He mocked you, putting on a pout, “You don’t know? Could’ve saved your boyfriend a whole lot of trouble. You and I haven’t always gotten along,”

“But I wouldn’t hurt you,” you said through gritted teeth.

“I would,” he said with a sleazy smile. “You wanna count her down?” he looked back at Yu, who had his face tightly against the ground, still whining. 

“He’s gonna die,” you said shakily. 

“We won’t let that happen,” 6 responded. “I’ll count instead. One…” you found yourself shaking too, your body betraying you. “Two…” his finger twitched on the trigger, when suddenly 3 yelled out.

“WAIT!”

You all paused to look. 

“I know who it is! No. I mean, I know how to find out,”

“How’s that?”

“A witness. There’s a witness!”

“A witness?”

“The cameras! I’m sure you can buy the footage or something,”

8 got up excitedly, to see the cameras. You droned out after that, they left 5 to look after you guys though. Yu finally looked at you, and your lips trembled at the sight. 

“7 are you okay?” 1 spoke, and was answered by a loud scream coming from him. 

“Fift-five,” you stuttered, “You need to help him now! The tourniquet isn’t enough, YOU’RE GONNA KILL HIM!” you sobbed out, body wracked with tears. 

5 looked between you and the intercom, “If I leave they’ll hurt me,” she whispered to you, “As soon as they’re back-”

“That’s not enough! PLEASE,” she continued to ignore you, looking nervously at the rooms.

“Who was it?” 2 spoke, still out of breath. “We’ll find out soon enough,”

“1… It was you wasn’t it,” 7 said, exhaustion evident in his voice.

1 sputtered, held back tears and squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Thinking about what he did to me,” he began to cry, “I was so furious, upset and…”

“You wanted more money,” 2 sighed.

“Is that so wrong of me? They used us. Don’t we have a right to do the same? Why do only we suffer?” 

You tried to ignore the hatred that suddenly burned inside of you for 1, logically, this isn’t his fault, but your ex boyfriend is bleeding to death from a bullet that had 1’s name on it. 

6 descended down the stairs with renewed vigor, ready to end 1’s entire life. Before he even made it halfway down the stairs, 8 tased him, causing him to fall, and a loud snap was heard.

“He’s paralysed,” 8 said as she walked down. “5 can you go tie him up?”

5 gasped, but nodded, running to try to help the man.

8 came up, giving a speech about how happy she is in front of the cameras, and the timer. Then, you were all escorted to your rooms. Before they could stuff you in yours, you begged for just a moment with 7. She declined, and she held a weapon to you as 5 tied you up.

The door shut, and the room was engulfed in an eerie darkness. The tears flowed freely from your eyes, down to your pillow. The dampness just added to the tragedy really. The frigid air was so cold it made you curl in on yourself, shaking with new round of cries. This was the worst, ever. Everything had gone so far south, and it made you think for a moment, what could’ve possibly prompted him to join the game? He was a rich kid, he came from luxury and trust funds and no college debt. He lived a fulfilling life, and from your information never gambled or took out illegal loans. Why was he here? If he was struggling, why hadn’t he reached out?

The door creaked open again, and you found 5.

“Um… 4… 8 said you could see 7,” you perked up, and she helped you to your feet to walk up there. At the door, she untied your hands, and told you that she’ll be back to fetch you when 8 feels like it. As soon as she gave you the greenlight, you entered. He was laying on the ground, near one of the corners, mountains of medical equipment around him covered in blood. His lips were trembling, eyes unfocused, staring into the floor.

“Philip,” you spoke softly, closing the door behind you. His frantic eyes found yours, and there was a visible relax in his shoulders. “How’re you feeling?” You treaded lightly, stepping over blood seeped tissues and discarded metal tools. 

“Cold,” he sniffled, driving a shaking hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” you responded, going to grab his blanket. Of course he was cold, he lost a lot of blood. 

You draped the material over his shoulders, trying to bundle it in a way it wouldn’t irritate the wound. His pants hung over his desk, allowing you full viewing of the bandages. You hope 5 did a good job.

A soft thump came of his head against the wall. It seemed he was still in shock, his eyes blinking between places, unable to find solace.

“Still hurts,” he finally croaked out, a small sob causing him to twitch slightly. He finally met your eyes directly, and you cupped his jaw gently, wiping his tears with the pads of your thumbs.

You kissed his cheek softly, and he rested his forehead against yours. You joined him, sitting in the corner. He laid his head against your shoulder, letting his face sink into the material of your top. 

You held one of his hands in yours, trying to soothe his tremor. Ice cold, they felt fragile. Carefully, you threaded your hands through his sweat infused hair, pushing the strands back from his face.

“C’mon,” you whispered softly, tears running down your face. “Don’t die on me 7,” 

He let out something that could almost be considered a laugh, lifting his head to face you.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, even quieter. 

You stared longingly at each other for a while, wishing that things could just be different, the blue cast on the room making it hard to really make out his features. You traced your shaky fingers across his face, down the slope of his nose and the curve of his lips.

“I thought you were gonna die,” you said honestly, avoiding his gaze.

“Die? You just told me you were gonna give me a second chance after this,”

You giggled, then pinched his arm lightly, “Don’t make me laugh this is serious, did 5 treat you okay?”

He nodded, glancing down at himself and running a hand through his hair. “I was high on adrenaline, I think, didn’t feel most of it.”

“Good. Good,” you nodded solemnly, you squeezed his nose softly, and he scrunched it.

You leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I was really scared I’d lose you,” he leaned forward in an attempt to catch your lips in a proper kiss.

“Almost dying doesn’t earn a man a proper kiss?” he pouted in response to your shying away.

You giggled, “Okay, okay,” you leaned forward, and what was meant to be just a peck deepened into a full on makeout session. 

He placed a shaky hand on the back of your head, pulling you in impossibly closer. You yourself pushed yourself closer to him, unsatisfied by the fact you were not completely intertwined. You panted in pauses, then continued in a starving manner. He needed you more than he needed oxygen. His hand slid down your side to your hip, and you parted, leaning your forehead against his.

He stared at you with half lidded eyes, lips swollen and parted, cheeks flushed, breathing laboured. You leaned forward, kissing his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose, then you cupped his face to kiss his cheeks in a suffocatingly drawn out kiss. 

He snorted, “I should get shot more often,”

“Don’t joke like that,” you said sternly, he kissed your jaw in response.

The room door creaked open gently.

“4… you have to go,” 5 spoke. You let out a small sigh. He held onto your hand tightly, pleading with you to just stay. 5 sniffed a little from where she stood, but gestured with a small taser to show you had no choice. You hung your head, giving him a final smile before walking out. Her eyes were red, tears fresh on her cheeks. You scoffed.

“4,” she tried as you approached your room.

“I don’t blame you 5,” you said through gritted teeth, “But I still don't like you,” she nodded, and tied your hands and feet once you got to your room.

You spent the night huddled in your room, scared and alone. The next morning however, you woke up to 5 and 8 in your room. 5 sat you on a chair, placing a bowl of water around your head, something to strap your head back and metal plier things to hold your eyes open. 

Sleep deprivation torture. They played this weird sort of video on repeat, and you felt your brain progressively turn mushier. The days blurred into each other, with you unable to blink or look away from the imagery- you’d started to hallucinate, unsure of when reality stopped and dreams started. 5 came in daily, multiple times. Breakfast and dinner, you gouged out. Shed clean you, and give you mini updates on 7.

“The wound got infected, but he’s fine, just a little faint,”

“It’s getting better with the antibiotics, but he’s not a fan of the shots. I guess you probably already knew that,”

“He won’t talk anymore, I think he’s too tired,” she turned her back from the camera, “He asked about you though,”

“1 has a plan, just follow my instructions,”

A/N: OKAY so this is way too short for my liking, however, there's really not all that much I can add, and I don't want to blend chapters together ya know? sorry for suddenly disappearing btw! I'm in my minecraft obsession phase. also i need to find a new show to write for bc this series is already almost done :o Taglist:

@entr4p3 @vlurdao @sweet1squash

[spirallingintothevoid71]

I applied for the job to be her personal assistant. She was the president of a woman owned firm. I found out during the interview that if hired, I would be the first male employee in the company.

During my second interview, she told me I was the only one who'd advanced that far. That she saw something... special in me.

The way I deferred to her in the initial interview conversation. The way I cast my eyes down when she'd pointed out an error in something I'd said. The way I shifted in my seat when she sat on her desk, crossing her pantyhose covered legs. Especially the way I'd lost track of the conversation when she began dangling her heel.

I told her I'd thought she wouldn't want me back, but she told me that these were exactly the qualities she was looking for. Someone who would do as they're told, without question. Obediently. Mindlessly. Someone unafraid to work under a powerful woman, figuratively and literally. Someone who needed that, as much as she needed a quality, trusted assistant.

I spent the rest of the day under her desk as a trial. 'Learning' my special, extra duties. I was on staff by the end of the day. Later, she told me the trial was actually for me, not her, to see if I could handle it. She'd already made up her mind to hire me. And to... convince me to stay if I thought differently. I told her there was no place else I'd rather be.

After a few weeks it became apparent that her vice president was jealous of my extra duties. So she asked me if I'd be willing to spend some of my work day at her feet as well. She shifted my duties accordingly, already planning on my saying yes. I started my extra duties immediately.

I didn't know that she was training me further. That it was all part of her plan. Slowly removing my inhibitions. Making me more compliant. More willing. Until all I could think about was being at her or her VP's feet. Or any woman's.

That's when she removed all of my other duties. When my extra duties became my only duties. She started sharing me with the rest of the staff on a rotational schedule, though I always started and ended my day at her feet.

By that point, I wasn't really capable of real work anymore. I was in a constantly aroused state, never knowing who I would be with on any given day, or how long before someone would need my attention.

She even had a small party for me. An opportunity for me to be with them all at once. While they shared suggestions and techniques with each other and with me. I don't remember much of it. I was surrounded by them, their heels and feet, overwhelmed by the myriad scents, tastes, sensations. My mind mostly shut down. My body... did things of its own accord. But she told me she was proud of how I'd done. That was more than enough for me.

She started taking me home with her after that. Spending my nights at her feet, until the thought of any other life faded away. I didn't work for her anymore. Not in the classic sense. I belonged to her. I gave up my apartment soon after.

I'm still the only male... employee at the company. And I work hard to keep it that way. Spending my days keeping the staff Goddesses happy.

Spending my days...

Spiraling into the Void

[indigoh4ze]

party || rafe cameron

warning- SMUT // vaginal fingering, eating out, vaginal penetration, mentions of intoxication

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a/n- so this is my first time writing for outer banks, im terrible at writing actual interactions so im sorry its so bad at first lmao. also disclaimer: rafe in this fic is nothing like he is canon, so his characterization is off. enjoy :)

also feel free to request for any outer banks characters i write for

turn on notifs here - @slvt4fakerealities-library - to be notified when i post a new fic

join taglist (add yourself to the outer banks section)

the lights were blazing, different colors zapping throughout the room as you made your way over to the couch. your head was slightly fuzzy from the intoxication, but you managed.

since the couch was empty, you took the chance to sprawl your whole body out on it, head on one arm and feet dangling off the other. you watched as everyone danced and made out and filled their bodies with even more toxins. soon, you found yourself just dazing up at the ceiling, lips opening and closing slightly as you lip-synced in a whispering tone to the loud music.

after what felt like hours, but could’ve only been a few minutes, you felt something nudge your thigh. without moving your neck, you let your eyes flash down to find the source of the movement.

hovering over you was rafe cameron. his dirty blonde hair framed his face messily, a single cross earring dangling from his left ear, a red solo cup in his hand as his free hand poked at your thigh.

“what?” you slurred, now moving up on your elbows and blinking back the haziness.

“i wanna sit,” he said, taking a sip from the cup. even in this state it wasn’t hard to notice how good the boy looked, tilting his head back and gulping down the liquid, eyes never leaving your own.

you groaned, pulling your knees to your chest and allowing rafe to throw himself onto the cushion. you were now facing his side, as his hands gripped your legs and pulled them back to their original position, except now they laid over his leg. giving him a curious look, you laid the side of your face on the back cushion and fidgeted with the bracelet around your wrist.

“shouldn’t you be like- getting shit faced or something.” rafe snickered at your words, sending you a glare before looking back down to his cup, which he was also mindlessly playing with.

“sorry, did i interrupt your little..nap?” he teased with a hint of amusement, referring to the previous state you were in, and you scoffed in return, mind clearing a bit more and making room for annoyance.

“whatever.” and then, you were pulling your legs off him and standing up, albeit wobbly as you almost fell to the side, caught by rafe’s firm grip around your arm.

“you good?”

“‘m fine,” you dismissed the boy, confused as to why he was even talking to you in the first place.

the truth was, you never liked him, he was rude and careless and selfish and way too much to put up with. but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the boy, and the tension that was always evident when the two of you were together.

but you always just pushed those thoughts aside, because even the thought of anything happening made your mind whirl with a plethora of emotions, not good ones by any means.

but then, you also couldn’t deny the recurring fantasies of things that could happen. could but wont, because he’s rafe cameron, and not even you’re desperate enough to be one of his bitches.

“hey?” a light tug of your arm pulled you back to the present, and you turned to see rafe at your side, cup forgotten as one of his hands molded around your waist and the other wrapped around your bicep to steady you.

“i’m really fine-.” you pulled away from him, and right as you did so, you felt someone back up on you, pushing you towards rafe and into his chest as a cold liquid spread from the lower half of your head and down your back.

you gasped in surprise, suddenly awake and alert as you sharply turned to see a boy standing there, cup tilted and empty as all its contents spilt on your back. he mumbled a quick apology, then took off laughing with his friends about something they said that probably wasn’t even funny.

“you sure about that?” rafe inquired, eyebrow raised in amusement as you stepped away from him, this time more cautiously. “c’mon, we’ll clean you up.”

although you wanted to say no and tell him to fuck off because you could handle it yourself, you were too exhausted from the long night to put up much protest other than a dramatic groan. then, you nodded, and rafe led you away from the crowd of people with a tug of your wrist.

—//—

now, you found yourself in a bedroom, rafes bedroom, waiting expectantly as you stood in front of the boy.

“what now?” you ask, palming your eyes and yawning, looking back at rafe with glossy eyes now, which were sending waves of tingles through the boys stomach.

“take a shower,” he implied, as if it was obvious. you scrunched your brows as he pointed to the bathroom on the other side of the room.

“i don’t have any spare clothes.”

“i’ll find you something to wear,” rafe shrugged, “go on,” he urged you to the bathroom, and you followed obediently, not having it in you to put up any sort of fight or ask questions.

“i’ll be right back,” rafe said from the room as you closed the bathroom door, only to hear the door to the bedroom close as well, meaning rafe left.

your mind was filled with the thought that he just ditched you, which was a possibility, but you ignored that thought and slipped your shirt over your head. once all the articles of clothing were thrown onto the cold tile floor, along with your shoes which sat messily in the corner, you lift a foot into the tub, stepping in.

immediately, you played with the oddly fancy knobs and managed to turn them on, warm water rushing through the shower head as your tilted your head back into it. the odd colored drink washed away from your hair, falling onto the floor of the tub and down the drain smoothly. you searched for soap, quickly cleaning up and scrubbing your hair twice for good measure. the smell of the soap reminded you of rafe, not surprising considering it was literally his own soap, you told yourself, annoyed by your current thoughts.

the feeling of the slightly cold water hitting your skin was enough to wake you up fully, but you were too lost in the blissful feeling of the water to pay much attention to your surroundings.

that was until you heard the door to the bathroom open, and you peaked your head through the curtain to find rafe, setting a towel on the counter, along with a shirt and a pair of shorts.

“who’s are those?” you questioned, making rafe jump as he realized you were watching him.

“sarah, i just took some from her,” he shrugged, and now you were even more confused.

first, he started talking to you randomly. then he’s helping you stand. then he’s taking you to his room..so you can shower. then he’s getting clothes for you to wear? how much did you have to drink? you started to ask yourself, questioning if this was all you just being wasted.

but it wasn’t, you felt pretty much fine. so there had to be something you were missing.

“just hurry up and change, i’ll be in the other room.” without another glance towards you, rafe left the bathroom, leaving you standing there, wet hair dripping forward from the way you had tilted your head to peek through. you went back to getting the soap out of your hair, rushing a bit more now.

meanwhile, rafe was in his room, just outside the bathroom, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. what the fuck am i doing? was his only thought.

he was honestly just confused as you were. it started when he saw you laying on the couch, mouth agape as your eyes sketched shapes on the ceiling. you just being there was tempting enough, but after that he just had to make his way over to you.

the two of you hadn’t had many conversations in the past, at least no genuine ones. most were just bickering, to be honest. but, just as you thought, the tension was undeniable. the feelings weren’t one sided, that was for sure.

when he caught you from falling over, you had leaned into his warmth and something almost turned in his stomach, which was quite nauseating on his side. it was annoying how fucking worked up he got around you. his mind would spin with options of what to do with you. did he want to just kiss you, fuck you or annoy you to death? he had no idea, but it was overwhelming, to say the least.

so when he invited you to his room to clean up, he wasn’t really thinking about it, because everything was happening at once. he even searched his sisters room for goddamn clothes for you.

interrupting his inner monologue, a door opened and out came your figure, except you weren’t wearing the clothes he had given you. no, you were just in your towel, actually. your skin looked slightly damp still, but your hair had been fluffed out and dried a bit from the towel.

“what are you- where are the clothes i gave you?” rafe asked, standing hesitatingly.

“dunno, wasn’t my style i guess,” you shrugged, looking around his room casually, taking in the very rafe feel it gave.

rafe just scoffed, messing his hair up and stepping closer. “well, you can’t really go out in a towel now, can you?”

this reminded you that there was still a party going on, although it was muffled and a bit quieter as people began to call it a night.

“then i won’t go out.” you stepped closer, looking up at rafe with an expression of uncertainty, trying to identify the look behind his eyes, figure out what the fuck he was up to. but you saw nothing. if anything, there were just a bit of nervousness hidden there.

“and what exactly do you plan on doing, then? since your obviously so wise.” now his guarded demeanor was back up, though he had taken a step closer so your heavy breaths were hitting each other perfectly, hands close to grazing one another’s.

“i don’t know.” then, another reminder flashed in your mind, and you looked back at rafe, “wait, why are you even here? isn’t this like- your party?”

“well, technically topper wanted a party, i wanted to go to bed and sleep for a year.” you chucked at this, figuring he had already gotten fucked up today and didn’t feel like another party. then, taking a risk, you leaned in just a bit, and rafe didn’t pull back. actually, he pushed forward, bringing his large hands to wheel around your waist, setting fire through your veins.

it was as if both of you snapped at the same time, first eyeing each others lips, then pushing forward and taking said lips between your own. the kiss was hungry and long waited, immense relief flushing through you, which took you both by surprise.

not even a few minutes of this passed by before rafe was tugging at the towel, still clinging around your naked body, droplets of water probably wetting his floor.

before letting the fabric reveal your body, rafe looked at you, pulling away for a moment and looking over your features, silently asking permission. a quick nod was all it took for the material to be ripped off and throw to the side, rafe spinning you both around until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back onto the mattress.

rafe looked over you with a smirk, eyes skimming over each and every detail of your body as if savoring it. a lick of his lips was all it took for your thighs to rub together, anticipation becoming too much as you waited for him.

this obviously pissed him off, because now his hands were tearing your legs apart, exposing your bare cunt inch by inch. “don’t even try to cover this up, got it?”

his voice was demanding, and luring, enough to make you nod, eyes softening in obedience, resulting in a snicker from rafe.

he leaned back in, delving down to leave kisses along your collar bone and suck on the flesh until bruises built against your skin, making you whimper and grab his dirty blond tressed with your fingers.

the sound of your whimpers made rafe go crazy, but he tamed the need inside him long enough to work his way down your stomach, placing teasing kisses down your inner thighs, but not once touching the spot you needed the most attention in.

“please, rafe,” you pleaded, not sure where it came from but gong with it once you saw the way he looked up at you, lust blown eyes and parted lips, waiting to be against your cunt.

“please what, hm? tell me what you want me to do, baby,” rafe cooed, fingers clenching around the inside of your thighs so he could push them apart and kiss your inner thighs, resulting in your back arching and hips begging upwards.

“n-need your mouth.” your face blushed with embarrassment of having to speak the words, but rafe just tsked, one hand moving upwards as he used his thumb to draw circles around your cunt, only passing your folds, earning a cry from you.

“i need more than that, doll.”

“fuck! please, j-just need your mouth on me, rafe, need to feel your mouth on my pussy, please!”

it seems that was acceptable for rafe, his thumb pausing just above your clit, then dragging down, finally grazing over the sensitive bud and stimulating it perfectly. your hips jerked at the sensation, but you grew accustomed to the feeling once he began working in small circles.

soon, his mouth was on your cunt, tracing paths over your folds and rubbing at the nub with a flat tongue, constantly sending shivers through you as you moaned with pleasure. his hands stayed at your side, ring clad finger’s cold against your flesh as his tongue dug inside you and began fucking your hole with no remorse.

the shapes and letters his warm tongue carved into you were almost too much, and when you reached down to rake your fingers through his hair, you fought the urge to push his head down and allow him to bury himself completely between your thighs.

“f-fuck! rafe, oh god, feels so good,” you sobbed, voice becoming louder as he hummed into you, a smirk on his lips, no doubt, from seeing you fall apart for him.

rafe pulled away within a second, licking his lip and keeping his eyes on your cunt, calculating his next move. you watched as he did so, suddenly feeling exposed as he raked his eyes over the slick coating your folds and your clit throbbing painfully through them. you squirmed at the emptiness, about to squeeze your thighs together, but you were too late as rafe brought a hand up, middle and forefinger pushing through your folds and embedding themselves within your walls.

a loud gasp escaped your lips as he did so, and you bit down painfully on the cushion of them as his fingers pumped in and out of you with nonstop speed. rafe looked up at you, his own lips parted beautifully as he watched moans flow easily out of your mouth.

“you like that, baby?” came his husky voice, only intensifying your already great pleasure that ran through your body. you nodded at his inquiry, not able to form coherent thoughts under his gaze. and that was when his fingers made a hook and pressed against your most sensitive part, making you squirm.

his smirk became bigger, and his fingers fucked you harder, a desperate attempt to ruin you right there. then he was leaning down, still pumping his fingers, and began to lick your clit with fervor, flicking the bud and sucking without resistance until your thighs were clenching around his head and you were a complete moaning mess.

“oh fuck- i’m g-gonna come rafe, pleaseplease,” you begged pathetically, having no time to be embarrassed as he hummed, nodding his head while still sucking on your clit, and permitted you to let go.

the orgasm took over in a huge wave, which came surprisingly fast, and the only thing on your mind was the bubbling in your stomach that was finally freed. moans and gasps fell from your lips as you wet his tongue and fingers, and rafe didn’t let a drop go to waste as he lapped up your slick, helping to prolong your orgasm.

hands reaching for his hair in dazed motions, eyes closed and lips parted, you mumbled, “t-too much, rafe,” which was the boys que to give you a final kiss on your clit, then remove his head and fingers from your cunt.

now, rafe stared up at you, swiping a ring clad thumb over his bottom lip, which was glistening with your arousal. his thumb then moved to enter your mouth, and you dutifully took in the digit, sucking with starry eyes, and whimpering when he removed it from your grasp.

rafe rose to his full height, still in his shirt and pants, which were no doubt keeping his hard dick from standing tall. suddenly, you felt that flush arise to your cheeks from your being nude, and you bit your lip and reached a hand out to grapple at his shirt. he took this as a sign to pull the material over his head, then going in for his buckle as well. the sound of the metal clinking as he loosened it from its straps was enough to send you into a spiral of anticipation, eyeing his clothed prick impatiently.

rafe had that smirk plastered to his face still, throwing his belt aside and then his pants, making sure not to go too fast as he tormented you.

you let out a whine as he hooked his fingers around his boxers, not pulling them down fully but revealing his v line. “rafe,” you pouted, and he decided to be nice and let them fall down, now unclothed as he kicked off his shoes and settled ontop of you, marking your chest and neck immediately.

sighing with content, you held him close and let his lips suck on your flesh, until the arousal was too much and he began to grind against you, slowly. your cunt was already becoming slick again as he rubbed against your thigh.

rafe lift himself up to his knees, pumping his cock, the point of his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth in concentration. the image of your breasts on display for him, and your lips parted and chest thumping was enough to make the boy cum on the spot.

he raised a brow at you, making sure you were still okay, and once getting a quick nod, he pressed the head of his cock against your folds. in the next second, he was thrusting into you, earning a loud gasp from you, which he covered with a hand on your mouth.

“shh, ‘m gonna fuck you good, okay? just lay there and look pretty,” he teased, but you nodded, wanting nothing more than to do as he said.

the thrusts started out mild, but soon quickened tempo, hips stuttering against yours as he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled it over his shoulder. this allowed a better angle, and you moaned with him as he repeatedly pounded into your already sensitive cunt.

you slid a hand down your bouncing breasts and stomach, then to your throbbing clit, soothing it with your gentle fingers before rafe slapped them away, as if saying “mine.”

his own hand went around your propped up leg to thumb at your clit, whilst the other made a path over your hips and breasts, fondling with the mound of flesh and pinching your nipple.

the overstimulation was rushing through you violently, his thrusts becoming sloppy, orgasm at the brink. you watched his head fly back, eyes rolling and mouth a gape, hypnotized by how pretty he looked even when he was fucking you.

“rafe,” you repeatedly mumbled, forming no other words in your clouded mind.

“hm? does it feel good? d’you like the way i fuck you, pretty girl?”

“y-yeah, so good,” you hummed, your own head rolling back onto the pillow, hips thrusting up to meet his and satisfy the hunger that once again boiled in your core.

“i’m gonna cum on your tits, are you gonna be good for me?” he said just as your orgasm was about to wash you away, and you nodded fast, once again wanting to be the best you could for him.

then, you came, waves of pleasure splashing through you before he pulled out, still thumbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, using his free hand to fist his cock which hovered over your breasts.

you held your tits in two shaky hands, squeezing them together and massaging them while rafe came, painting your breasts and stomach until he had milked out every last drop he could. he mumbled yes’s and fuck’s, along with your name until his high died down.

breathing harshly, you set ur sight to the ceiling, deep intakes of air causing the ends of rafe’s lips to turn upwards slightly. he leaned down to place one last kiss on your flushed cheek before letting himself fall onto the mattress beside you.

“let’s clean you up,” rafe said, turning to look at you, “the party’s not over yet.”

uhhhh yeah idk how i feel ab this i hope it wasn't terrible ig. reblogs appreciated :)

@o-rion-sta-r @saggyb1lls @rylynn-m @dobbysockcollection @arcaneslut @arianagreyy @el-imaskingforyourlefthand

[sinner-as-saint]

Purpose.

Mob!Bucky x Reader AU 

Requested. 

Run-through: You have an argument with your boyfriend and you call him out on all of his shit. You’re sassy and rude, and the mob boss can only tolerate so much disobedience. So when you turn around to leave, he doesn’t take it very well. And given you’ve been running your mouth all this time, he shuts you up and shows that sassy little mouth its true purpose... 

Themes: FILTH, smut, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex

You and Bucky have been bickering all day. 

Even at the party; anything he would say or do would simply annoy you. This all started this morning due to his grumpy mood which then rubbed off on you and now, by the time you both made it home - you were straight up arguing over random stuff

“You’re being all crazy. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about.” 

“Shut up.”

And it would simmer down for a few minutes, but then you’d be at it again. Arguing over useless stuff for no reason; both of you frustrated and running low on patience. 

“Baby, calm down.” 

“Don’t ask me to calm down, you started this with your shitty mood.” 

You walked into the living room, pissed off and wanting to get away from Bucky but he had been following you around the house ever since you two got home.

“Will you at least tell me what I can do to make it better? Even though I don’t know what I did and you refuse to tell me?” 

“Leave me alone, Bucky.” You went over to the mini bar and tried pouring yourself a drink but Bucky interrupted you even then. 

“No.” His voice was firm and deep. “What the hell is going on right now-,” 

You cut him off by rolling your eyes and moving away from him to grab a glass. You heard him sigh and swear under his breath. Something along the lines of ‘bitch’. And that set you off. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” 

He sighed again, “Nothing.” He tried walking away but you called out after him. 

“You wanna know who’s a bitch? You. Because you couldn’t take your eyes off someone else’s girl tonight.” You didn’t mean to say that, but your anger got the best of you. You had gone over this earlier and he had made it clear that no, he wasn’t staring at another woman all night long. 

He narrowed his eyes at you, sending you a glare which should’ve shut you up but didn’t. “Watch your words, and your tone.” 

You let out a dry chuckle. “Why? So you can just be a manwhore but I can’t raise my voice? Screw you!” You turned around to leave the living room, the drink you were making yourself long forgotten. 

You heard him call out for you. “Don’t you dare walk away from me! Come back here and we’ll fix this. Right now!” He sounded irritated. But you didn’t stop. 

You walked upstairs and packed yourself an overnight bag. Tonight, it seems you’d be spending back at your apartment instead of at your boyfriend’s lavish mansion. You didn’t care, you needed to be away from him. His very presence was pissing you off. 

You grabbed your bag and made it downstairs in the span of a few minutes. He was by the bar, finishing off the drink you started making earlier. He turned his head sharply once he saw you. “Where do you think you’re going?” 

You kept walking, ignoring him; knowing he hated it so much when you did that. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” He asked, louder. 

You stopped for a brief moment, turned to send him a dirty look. “Away from you.” 

He clenched his jaw and crossed the living room to get to you but you had already begun walking towards the front door by the time he reached you. He ran to you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you into his strong chest. You got a whiff of his perfume and tried your hardest not to give in. His cologne had always been a weakness of yours. 

“You’ve been running your mouth all day, and all evening. And now you think you can just leave?” He sounded pissed too, his patience running low. 

You managed to get your arm out of his grip, he let you, thinking you would apologize or walk back inside so you two could fix this but instead you glared at him and turned around to walk away again. 

“Oh you think you can just-,” he couldn’t believe the audacity you suddenly had. “Come back here!” He grabbed you by your hand again, snatched the travel bag out of it and threw the bag somewhere before dragging you back to the living room. 

He had to carry you for the last few steps because you were screaming right at his face. 

“Enough!” he grabbed you gently by the jaw and stared into your eyes with his deep blue eyes making you shiver. “You’ve been such a brat, I can’t believe I’ve been able to tolerate your behavior for so long.” He pulled your face closer to his, and you immediately stopped resisting. “Get on your knees.” 

You didn’t do so immediately, which made him raise an eyebrow at you; intrigued by your unusual disobedience. “Oh? So you’re gonna resist me now?” He leaned in, trailing the tip of his cold nose across your cheek. You shivered again, closing your eyes instinctively. “You’ve been such a bad girl today.” He whispered in your ear. “Been running that sassy little mouth…” he spoke as his thumb traced the outline of your lips, definitely smudging your lipstick. 

You swallowed audibly, anticipating what would follow. 

He pulled away and smirked. “That’s all you need right now I believe. You just need daddy to help you out of that sour mood, don’t you babygirl?” His voice was already calming you down, but you refused to give in just yet. Even though you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for long. 

He chuckled. “Think you can just be mad at daddy for no reason? How cute…” he tightened his grip on your jaw. “Get on your knees, now. That sassy mouth of yours has been getting me on my nerves all day. Think it’s about time I teach you a little about it’s true purpose, huh?” 

You didn’t say anything. He smirked. “On your knees, now.” 

You quickly sank down to your knees in front of him. You were grateful for the fluffy carpet you knelt on, because who knows how long he’s gonna keep you on your knees. He spoke up again. “Now come on, we both know what else that pretty little mouth is good at other than being sassy. Show me.” 

Your hands hurried to undo his belt, unzip his pants and lower his underwear to free his erected cock. The mere sight of his thick cock had you whining with need, but this wasn’t about you. This was about proving him right. 

You wrapped your hands around his cock and placed your mouth on his tip; your tongue slowly circling his tip. Bucky slid his hand into your hair and grabbed a fistful of it; tugging on it gently and slowly pushed himself deeper into your mouth. “There we go, take it. Take all of me. This is all you’re good for, isn’t it baby?” he threw his head back and let out a strained moan. “All you’re good for is sucking daddy’s cock…” 

You bobbed your head around his tip; taking him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat. You kept your eyes on his face as you sucked on his cock. He closed his eyes momentarily, lips parted and gasping as he tilted his head back. He looked majestic. He moaned as he pushed himself deeper into your mouth, fucking it like he owned it. 

“This is all you needed, isn’t it you little brat?” He taunted, grunting and tugging on your hair. He bucked his hips forward into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock as you gagged just a little. You looked so pretty on your knees, he thought, taking him perfectly.

You repeated your actions again and again, hollowing your cheeks. The growls and moans which escaped his lips made you squirm and it only added to the dampness which was forming in your underwear. And his dirty, dirty mouth… 

“Keep going babygirl, come on… show me what that mouth is good for.” He quickened the pace at which he moved in and out of you; eager to chase his orgasm.

“That’s right, it’s only good for sucking daddy’s big cock, isn’t it?” He twitched against your tongue and you tasted some of his pre cum.

“You’re such a good little slut for daddy, aren’t you? See how easy it is when you shut up and behave, and do as I say?” He swore under his breath as you dragged your tongue over the slit on this tip very lazily.

The moment you slowed down a little, you earned yourself a gentle smack on your cheek. It made you squeal in surprise. “Did I ask you to slow down, kitten? No I didn’t, keep going.” He growled when you sped up again. 

“Look at you squirming,” he chuckled darkly. “You just need daddy to fill you up, don’t you? You’re desperate for daddy to just fuck you, aren’t you baby?” 

His words made you whine, and you discreetly tried to slide your hand down through the slit of your dress and touch yourself but before you could, he caught you. “Put your hands where I can fucking see them!” he hissed and tugged on your hair, making your moan with your mouth full of his cock. You immediately removed your hand from under your dress and placed them on your lap instead. “Don’t you dare touch yourself. Bad kittens don’t get to play with themselves while sucking daddy’s cock, you understand me?”

You nodded. Well then… 

You knew you were walking on thin ice here, but you couldn’t resist teasing him. He was already ‘punishing’ you, what else would he do? 

He caught the mischief in your eyes as you took him out of your mouth, licking his cock from bottom to top while your hands toyed with his balls. He looked down at you with a warning in his eyes. 

“Don’t tease me, kitten,” he growled, looking down at you with his intense blue eyes. 

 Those words were all it took for you to take him back into your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock ramming in and out of your mouth. You felt his muscles tightened under your touch, and you knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So you quickened your pace, and he moaned over and over again as he reached his high.

With one final, rough push into your mouth, you felt him come undone. His cum trickled down your throat and you swallowed him obediently. Slowly, he pulled himself out of your mouth and bent down to look at you from up close. Your lips were swollen, and spit ran down your chin along with his cum. You were panting; an overall mess. 

You were much calmer than before, he could tell by the look in your eyes. “Not so bratty anymore, are you?” He asked, standing up straight and held his hand out for you to take. “Up. Come on.” 

You took his hand and stood up, your knees felt weak but luckily he held you tight against him. “I don’t like punishing you, babygirl. You know that, right?” 

You nodded at his words. 

He stroked your cheek with his thumb, softly. “But do you agree that you’ve been bratty for no reason today?” 

You nodded again. 

He smirked. “Well then, you deserve a proper lesson, don’t you kitten? Go wait for me upstairs,” he leaned in just enough to make your heart race, but not kissing you yet. “I want you naked on the bed when I get there, you hear me?” 

You nodded. “Yes, daddy.” 

He smiled, kissing you on the side of your mouth; making you whine in need.

“Good girl.”

[b0ther]

her body fit right in my hands

lisa insists on fucking you even after you told her that kaeya was coming over. now that he's here, she wants to act shy, but you know her better than that.

pairing : lisa x reader (masc pronouns, amab), kaeya x lisa x reader (masc pronouns, amab)

rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content)

type : one-shot

tags : threesome (m/f/m), dirty talk, praise kink, breeding kink, verbal degradation, the usage of the words “whore”, “doll”, and “slut”, blow job, bimbofication, manhandling, exhibitionism, riding, cumming inside, choking, walking in on someone, reader and kaeya have big dicks, reader and kaeya objectifies lisa (and she loves it), lisa is mouthy

word count : 3,674

author's note : title from 'señorita' by camila cabello and shawn mendes. i wanna suck on lisa's cunt.

( masterlist │ ask/request│ ao3 )

You tried warning Lisa that Kaeya would be stopping by your room that night—you were recently promoted as his right hand man and he wanted to share some congratulatory drinks in your chamber. You made it clear with Lisa that tonight was a night that cannot be disturbed.

But she was so good, so pretty in her tiny nightgown, just short below the curves of her ass, and it was enough to falter you.

“But I miss you,” her fuckable lips frowned.

And before you know it, Lisa had her fingers wrapped around your cock, her head rhythmically bobbing up and down as she took your full length down her throat. She had always known how to make you feel good.

“It won’t take long,” she eventually whispered, aligning the tip of your dick with her entrance as you sat on the edge of your bed. “I just need to feel you— ngh!”

Lisa was cut off by her own initiative of dropping down on your cock, knees shaking as if welcoming you inside her for the first time. You felt your lap greeting wetter as her sopping cunt took in your cock.

“You’re so fucking tight,” you gritted your teeth, pressing your hands on her hips, spreading her ass cheeks open. You leaned and kissed her lips, making your way down to her neck. “Let me see those beautiful tits, baby.”

Lisa moaned out your name in tiny gasps, slipping the straps off her shoulder, and you were greeted with the magnificent view of her massive jugs as her loose dress gathered on her waist, your cock throbbing inside of her as she bounced up and down.

“D’you feel good?” She asked, as she bit her lips and looked at you, her eyelashes fluttering prettily. You had no reason to say no.

“Fuck, you’re filling me up,” she wrapped her arms around your neck and pressed your face to her chest. You happily obliged, lapping on her hard nipples, taking them softly between your lips. Lisa moaned out your name, rolling her hips against you, her fat ass displayed out in the open, “I missed you so much.”

“You sucked me off this morning,” you chuckled against her tits, hands busy kneading her ass.

She pouted, “That’s not the same, you know it.”

How did you end up with such a good girl? You grinned at her as she fucked you.

“What? ‘Cause I don’t have my cock buried in your pussy?”

Dirty talk always makes her falter, she likes it when you put her own words into your mouth. Lisa whimpered, shamelessly nodding her head, “My pussy missed you.”

You glanced down at the way she was taking in the full length of your cock, her knees occasionally wobbling against the bed.

“So needy for my dick,” you murmured, turning your focus on her chest and you could feel the sudden change in urgency in her fucking. Lisa bounced herself in a much more erratic pace, tits going everywhere. Her walls clenched around your length, driving you to your own orgasm.

As your cream filled her, Lisa hugged your head into her chest, not letting go as she mewled, her hips rolling at the same rhythm of her own orgasm washing over her.

“Oh?” A sudden light engulfed your candle lit room, and you turned to see your captain by the doorway, his arm crossed on his chest as he assessed the situation that he had caught you in. “Seems like I’ve caught you in a terrible time.”

Still high on her orgasm, Lisa’s moans got even louder when she realized that someone was watching her ride your dick. She let go of your head, and instead buried her face on your neck.

You grinned at Kaeya, giving him a look only he could decipher, beckoning him to enter the room with your head.

“Oh my,” Kaeya continued to muse as he closed the door behind him. Lisa whimpered, and you gave her ass a good squeeze before manhandling her, turning her body around for Kaeya to view. “With Miss Lisa too.”

Her breath was heavy, tits shimmering with your salivation. She braved himself to look at him, swallowing her shyness before turning away again at how Kaeya was drinking in the shape of her jugs, the way her face was so openly tantalizing, as if challenging him.

“Look, Kaeya.”

You lifted Lisa off your cock by the plumps of her thighs, letting her sit on your lap as you spread her throbbing cunt open with two fingers, letting him a view of her glorious, glistening hole.

“You have to try her pussy, the tightest goddamn cunt you’ll ever fuck.”

Lisa whimpered against your neck when you easily offered him to take her cunt, softly calling out your name when you slipped a finger into her entrance, kneading her tit on the other hand.

She tried hiding her face again, but the arousal she was gathering from having Kaeya watch as you finger her was obvious.

“Fuck,” she gasped, tugging on the material of your shirt as you fucked her with your finger. You could feel her walls tightening around your thick digit, and decided to enter another one, eliciting a lewd moan from her, “more more more more.”

Kaeya chuckled, breaking free of his stares of awe at her cunt, and her attention immediately went to the growing bulge suffocating in his pants.

“She’s got a pretty mouth too,” he mused, hands already busy unbuckling his belt.

“Oh,” you laughed quietly when Kaeya finally let go of his dick, slapping against his shirt with a low thump. “Look at him, Lisa. He’s ready for you. Good thing I prepped you up beforehand, huh?”

You watch Lisa’s expression melt at the sight of Kaeya’s cock—fat, but also long, with a vein running up to its tips that was oozing with precum. Her eyes widened in nervousness, and you took the opportunity to curl your fingers in her. She arched her back, grinding down on your hand.

“It’s so big…” She murmured, you can feel her cunt squirming in excitement, closing her legs to feel more friction on her clit.

“Don’t be shy, Miss Librarian,” you propped her up against your body, sitting her down on your lap and pulling her thick thighs even further apart to let the cool breeze hit her wet core. “Your good cunt can take him in, right?”

With your encouragement, Lisa bit her lips and nodded obediently.

“Good girl,” you praised as Kaeya stepped forward. You turned to him a with a slight smirk etched on your lips, “Wanna fuck her mouth or pussy first? She’s amazing at both.”

He raised an eyebrow, “You seem proud of your little doll.”

“She’s something to be proud of,” you cooed, kissing her soft cheek. She whimpered underneath you, clinging on your shirt, breath heavy as if entering another high.

“What a good girl,” Kaeya agreed, grabbing her jaws to peer into her emerald eyes.

Inhibition filled Lisa’s chest and she looked away in diffidence, but he shoved her face to look at him. He studied her face, cock throbbing at the sight of her vulgar gaze; her mouth gaping as if inviting him to slam his thick rod down her throat.

But before Kaeya could do that, he turned to you. “What does she like?”

You hummed at your considerate captain, turning towards the restless woman, softly brushing her brown hair, laced with her sweat, back to her scalp. “Hmm, what do you like, sweetheart?”

Lisa stayed quiet for a moment, glancing up at you—so sweet, like asking for your permission—before looking at Kaeya, lips pursing in humiliation. She muttered something that none of you could quite catch.

“What was that?” You asked, and Kaeya scoffed at her reserved attitude.

“Fucking speak up,” Kaeya took one menacing step forward, and both you and Lisa shuddered at the sudden authority taking over his body. The way he loomed over you, but Lisa mostly, excited you.

She threw her gaze away, drowning in her own indignity. “Big… cocks….”

The answer drew a laugh from both you and your captain.

Archons. What a sweet little thing she was.

“Big cocks?” Kaeya patted her cheek in satisfaction, grinning meanly as he stared her down, “You’ll take any cock given to you, huh?”

Lisa nodded, a bit too enthusiastically, and looked up at you, eyes asking if she did a good job in answering his question. You could only give her a sloppy kiss, before turning your attention to Kaeya again, your chin nestling on her shoulder.

“She likes bouncing on my cock, I think being on top gives her some kind of gratification. Makes her think she’s in control.”

Kaeya’s lips turned into a small ‘o’ shape. “Hmm,” he tugged a strand of hair behind her ear. “What a shame, I like fucking into my cunts with them underneath me.”

“I’m sure she can make an exception,” you pressed your thumb against her neglected clit, your idle fingers suddenly moving in rhythm to the heavy breathing of her chest again. “Right, baby? You’ll let Captain Kaeya take you just like this, right?”

Lisa groaned, burying her face on your neck, mindlessly nodding, ”yesyesyes” as she rolled her hips to ride your fingers, trying to get back to the high that you initially abandoned. “What a good whore,” your quiet praise excited her, almost driving her to orgasm.

But before she could reach her climax, you easily slipped your fingers out of her cunt. She shot her eyes wide open, eyebrows furrowing. Complaints came flying out of her mouth, but you quickly shut her up with your large digits on her mouth.

Her eyes were wide, almost looking innocent as she took you in compliantly, sucking your fingers in like a devoted follower. Her empty hole was now grappling at nothing with juice continuously leaking out of it.

“So,” you turned to Kaeya, “you’ll take her cunt?”

Lisa wrapped both hands on your arm, hollowing her cheeks as she pumped your fingers in and out her mouth.

“Yeah, I’ll take her pretty cunt,” Kaeya paused to admire the way her plump lips were surrounding your calloused fingers, suckling on them dry as if her life depended on it.

He pressed his palm flat against her cunt before stroking his length, using her slick to get himself wet enough to penetrate her cunt. She groaned at the friction, but kept her focus on your fingers.

You watched him line the tip of his cock just outside her entrance, teasing her by slipping just a little in between her pussy lips. Lisa stopped her movement, breathing heavily against your fingers and angled herself so he could mount her better.

“Keep sucking on my fingers, doll,” you reminded her of the presence of your tongue by pressing down on her mouth. She whimpered quietly, but didn’t waste another second lapping on them.

You felt your dick growing, you were always so weak for obedient Lisa. But it really wasn’t your fault, not when she was looking this, so faithful in trying her best to please you.

Kaeya’s eyes lingered to her chest, and how you were handling her ample tit with one hand, constantly pinching and squeezing on her areola. Her swollen nipple protruded between your fingers, and Kaeya leaned down to take it between his teeth, messily slurping on them, swirling his tongue around her bud, pressing them flat only to suck it back in again. You grinned at how Lisa paused to take in the pleasure she was receiving from the captain, and held her tit up to give him easier access.

“Kaeya,” she drawled, pronunciation hazy due to the large digits in her mouth. One of her hands went to his head and took a fistful of his hair.

“Mhmm,” he responded, still busy enjoying her plumpness in his mouth.

You took your fingers out of her mouth and groped her other, untended jug. Lisa pouted, oh her sweet little pout, and forced him off her chest. She pulled him closer, their hot breaths mixed with each other as her eyebrows furrowed, cute face trying to look stern with her bottom lips sticking out.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kaeya whispered, giving her cheek a long lick before lightly sucking on her bottom lip. “You make me wanna fuck you silly.”

Lisa sucked in a deep breath at the threat, but held her facade strong.

“That’s what she wants,” you chuckled and nibbled on her ear. “She’s acting all tough right now, but just wait ‘till she begs for you to pound her cunt, what a sweet little slut.”

“Yeah?” He chuckled, placing both hands on the bed, on either side of your body, to steady himself. His eyes were dark, vicious, as if hungry and was going to consume her whole. “Bet she’s the type of whore to cry if you don’t let her cum, huh?”

“The type of whore to cry no matter how you fuck her,” you pinched her nipples. “Right, Miss Lisa?”

Lisa huffed, but before she was able to come up with a reply, she got the words taken out of her throat as Kaeya slammed his fat cock in her pussy all at once, forcing her hole open to accommodate his size.

“You talk too much,” Kaeya groaned, pulling out from her before pounding into her back again, his pace intense and merciless. “Use that pretty mouth to beg.”

You grinned at the pleasure on Kaeya’s face—her pussy was taking him in so good, you could feel Lisa writhing under your touch as wordless gabbling slipped from her mouth.

“I— Kaeya, fuck fuck fuck my pussy,” she whined, voice loud and high. Her limp hands grabbed his shoulders, fingers digging in his shirt. “You’re so— nghh you’re so big!”

You moved your hand from her teats to her torso, holding her still in her place to let Kaeya use her cunt the way he wanted, and used your other hand to keep her wide open for him.

“You’re so tight,” Kaeya kept up with his pace, his large cock hitting every possible corner of her insides.

He grunted, sharply glancing at you as you gave him a coy smirk. “You get to fuck this tight pussy everyday?”

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, “You jealous, Cap?”

“Who wouldn’t be?” He looked down to where his cock was disappearing into her fat folds, scorning lightly at the way her nightgown was covering the sight. “Hold your dress up, doll, let me see how good you’re taking me in.”

Lisa, with her breath chopped by every thrust he was giving her, used one hand to lift the material, fist squeezing it when Kaeya drove into her harder when he could see the way she was hugging him so perfectly.

“Fuuuuck,” she arched her back, but you kept her in her place, restraining her movements by holding her down. “Fuuuuck, please please please please, Kaeya.”

Kaeya turned to drink in her begging, watching her face turn stupid with her eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool all over her chest from her loose tongue as she got high from his big cock.

“Hardeeeer,” she cried, still trying to grind up to him, as if you’d let her. “Harder—fuck fuuuck—fuck me harder, make me cream all over your cock—“

“You’re so fucking mouthy,” Kaeya placed a hand around her throat, blocking out the sounds she was attempting to make. She gripped his large arm, slobber dripping on his skin. Her cheeks were flushed red, sweaty, and so needy as she let out severed moans.

He loosened his grip, suddenly missing her dirty gabs, still keeping his hand on her throat. His eye peered deep into hers, wondering how pretty her face would be with his jizz drizzled on them—how his white cum would make her emerald eyes stand out.

“I’ll cum all over your face, how’d you like that, Lisa?”

Lisa whined again, but shook her head relentlessly.

“Nooo,” she took her bottom lip between her teeth, body breaking with every thump he was giving her. “Haaaah— n-no. Cum inside me— mhmm fuck, fill me up with your cum, in-instead.”

You hummed at her request and licked the sweat off her jaw. “You’ll get pregnant if you keep letting men who fuck you cum in your cunt, Lisa.”

“I don’t—“ she gasped. It was cute how determined she was in getting Kaeya to bury his seeds inside of her. “—I don’t care, mhmmm shit. I— I want to feel you— nghhhh.”

Kaeya grunted, “Can’t even fucking talk.”

“His cock made you dumb, Lisa?” You laughed, only receiving a weak nod in reply. You turned to Kaeya, “Think she wants you to breed her—“

Lisa gasped, the thought of being bred and used to you and Kaeya’s will exhilarated her—having thick cocks entering her in all places and at all times. She imagined letting you fuck her like a sex doll, your cock splitting her open as Kaeya’s fat one slam down her throat, his heavy balls slapping against her face

Her cunt tightened around Kaeya’s length as she let go of her dress, and she let out a prolonged moan, naughty gasps slipping out of her lips. You let loose of your grip and Lisa arched her back as she felt herself get off her orgasm.

“You came?” Kaeya watched her sap on his cock, creaming it as she subsequently weakened against your chest.

“Kaeyaaa,” she whimpered, fresh orgasm apparent on her face as she encouraged him to use her pussy.

“Fucking whore,” you chuckled darkly against her ears. “That’s what you’re into? You like the thought of bearing a kid, not knowing who the father is?”

“Mhmmm,” Lisa laid as she watched Kaeya increase his vigor, plummeting deep into her, the tip of her cock reaching her cervix.

“She just loves being a cum dump,” Kaeya grunted; feeling her tight walls brushing against his length as he approached his own high. He leaned down and sniffed on her neck, her smell driving him to the edge as he took in her skin in his mouth.

You watched as Lisa’s face melted as Kaeya continued abusing her used cunt, feeling yourself get excited, the throbbing feeling on your hard cock only getting more intense, slapping against the skin of her fat thighs.

“I’ll cum deep inside you, yeah, Lisa?” He bit her neck, causing a large moan, “fuck a kid into you, see how heavy these tits will get.”

He slapped one of her melons and she nodded, already building up on another orgasm.

“Fuck,” she rolled her hips, “fill me up with your seed, Kaeya. I need you I need you, fuck me fuck me.”

How could a girl be this naughty? Lisa’s hot voice entered your ears; after being fucked twice, all she could ask for was another fuck. You watched as her breath heaved again, she really was your perfect slut.

Not having to be told again, Kaeya ended his high with a harsh thwack, his own warm semen squirting inside of her needy cunt, decorating the wall of her womb with white.

Kaeya used her neck to muffle his feral growl, keeping his dick buried inside of her for a few moments before finally slipping his limping dick out.

As soon as he did that, you yanked her off your body and turned to lightly throw her on your bed.

“What a good girl,” you watched as her cunt twitched at the nothingness it surrounded, Kaeya’s thick, white cum oozing from her hole. She looked up at the both of you with half lidded eyes, mouth babbling on about how good Kaeya had fucked her, how she felt so full with his seeds planted in her.

You stood up next to Kaeya, dick standing in midair admiring the expression she was making; drunk on orgasm and on the two best cocks she had ever felt.

“How was it?” You glanced at your captain, his cock glistening with a mixture of both of their juices. He placed his knee on your bed, approaching Lisa.

“She was the best fuck I’ve ever had,” Kaeya chuckled, his softening dick growing hard again when he decided to grab her thigh and spread her legs on the bed. She lazily rubbed her clit with her fingers, drawing circles on them, pussy lips twitching as more of his semen trickled out.

She stared at you, her bottom lips between her teeth.

“Look at the way she’s seducing us,” you spit on your palm to take your meat in your hand, beating it. “You can’t get enough of all these cocks?”

“Aren’t you tired?” Kaeya teased, before looking at you. “You think she can handle two cocks at once?”

Hearing his question, Lisa moaned and quickened the pace of her finger pressing her own clit. Her tits were bouncing, she grind down as you got in the bed.

“She liked that,” you smirked, crawling next to her head to offer her your throbbing dick, slapping it softly against her cheek. “She’s a whore, I’m telling you. She’ll take anything you give her.”

Lisa opened her mouth, and you softly pushed yourself inside.

“Right, Lisa? You’d like to take us both at the same time, right?”

She nodded obediently, staring up at you with fluttering eyelashes, taking you in her mouth.

“Fuck,” Kaeya was already positioning himself between her legs. “That’s hot.”

“You’re going in again?” You watched Kaeya run his hand along his own length, at the same time rubbing himself all over her.

“Look at her,” he shrugged, already propping the tip dick in her cunt, “Can’t say no to a pussy like that.”

You turned to Lisa and recognized her giddy gaze, chuckling softly as you rid the strands of hair sticking on her face. “You’re in for a long night, baby.”

[shah-writes]

an artificially intelligent curse

so i read this article about a man who uses AI to speak with his dead fiancee and i simply cannot stop thinking about it. there’s no MCD in this! but you can find my thoughts at the bottom.

tldr; think AI + Inception + Drarry

“Draco’s dying.”

Ron is Harry’s best friend in the whole world but sometimes he can be a bit daft. 

“No, he’s not,” Harry replies serenely. He’s not. Draco is in the kitchen, wearing the light blue sweater Harry gave him last Christmas and a rosy flush Harry gave him two minutes ago. 

“They think you can help him.” Ron is staring at a point above Harry’s shoulder. Harry shifts slightly to follow Ron’s gaze and finds Draco standing there, levitating three steaming mugs of tea onto the table. 

Except. Except, Draco doesn’t drink tea. He drinks cheap, Instant coffee, a consequence of his time spent working in America. Harry teases him about it all the time. 

There’s a slight thud as two mugs hit the table, the third has vanished. 

Draco settles into a chair. “No tea for me,” he says playfully. There’s a small Statue of Liberty trinket on the bookshelf behind Ron. Harry relaxes. 

“Ron was just telling me a story,” Harry shares.

Draco smiles and leans forward expectantly on the table. It’s a set they thrifted last weekend: one Walnut table and four Cherry chairs— one ingredient away from a meal, Draco had joked. 

“It’s a curse, Harry. ‘Mione figured it out. It’s preying on your memories.”

Harry gives Ron a conciliatory nod and reaches out to brush a dark curl away from Draco’s forehead. Draco has platinum hair, he remembers, as an afterthought. 

The strands shift to a blinding white immediately. Or were they always white? They must have been, Draco would never dye his hair. 

“It’s you, Harry. You’re teaching it how to trap you.”

Harry reluctantly turns back toward Ron. 

“What makes us human?” Ron asks. “Harry, I know you can hear me, you just have to listen. What makes us human?”

“I… I don’t know,” Harry mumbles. 

“Instinct, Harry. Emotion and instinct.”

Ron is sitting on a cushioned armchair and Harry wonders absently where he got it. All Harry has are four Cherry chairs. He nearly expects to see Ron’s chair transform into dark wood. It doesn’t.

“You can’t teach humanity,” Ron continues. “You can teach a Thing how to learn, how to adapt. You can force it to consume everything around it until it knows right from wrong. Until it becomes as intelligent as any of us, but you can never teach it instinct. Look around, Harry, use your instinct.”

There’s a portrait on the wall. Four people. Harry and Draco. An older woman with almond-shaped green eyes and freckles over her nose; an older man with dark skin and Harry’s own unruly hair. 

“Hermione’s calling it an AI-Curse. Artificial Intelligence. It sweeps through your mind quickly and puts together a scenario where you feel comfortable. It’ll get things wrong, of course. It doesn’t know which memories are relevant, which are wrong, which are just daydreams. That’s where you come in. You tell It when it’s wrong and you reward It when it’s right.”

Draco’s sitting still at the table. Harry beckons him over. 

“I love that picture of us,” Draco says happily, laying his head on Harry’s shoulder. 

“What is this?”

“Us and your parents, silly.”

“Draco, my parents are dead. They’ve been dead for 27 years.”

Draco blinks. “I know. Do you miss them?”

Harry snaps back to the portrait. His parents have disintegrated out of the frame. 

Ron’s still sitting at the table in his armchair. “Malfoy’s condition is deteriorating. He’s succumbing to the curse. Once he’s given up all of his memories, he’ll die trapped in a fake world of his own design.”

“Stop,” Harry says; and then, “STOP,” louder, facing Ron. Ron doesn’t hear him. Because… because Ron’s not here. Ron and his stubborn, incongruous armchair aren’t here. Harry can hear the humming of Mungo’s Stasis charms echoing somewhere in his mind, the quiet bustle of the hallway, the frantic whispering.  

The only person here is Draco. Draco, who barely ever comes over to Harry’s flat. Draco, who flirts with him over lunches but flinches away when Harry reaches out to sweep his blonde hair off his forehead.

There’s a rosy flush on Draco’s cheeks except Harry’s not the one that gave it to him. Harry’s never kissed Draco; they’re partners and friends and maybe something that transcends description, but not this. Not yet.

“Draco, why are you here?”

“What do you mean?” Draco’s smiling at him, eyes soft. It’s a daydream. Harry swallows down the grief of the realization. 

“We’re not dating, we’re not anything, why are you in my flat?”

Draco freezes. 

“No, no, no, please, no,” Harry’s grasping at him desperately but there’s nothing there. Just pixels floating away from each other, dissolving into the air. 

“NO!” Harry’s kneeling, face hidden in his hands. “No, I can’t do this alone, I can’t, come back… please come back.” He knows it’s impossible; you can’t teach humanity, Ron had said. AI doesn’t understand emotions, won’t bring him back now that it knows he doesn’t belong. 

“They want to Obliviate you,” Ron continues, speaking at Harry’s bedside at Mungo’s, imitated in Harry’s subconscious. 

“What?” Harry turns and scrambles toward Ron.    

“Hermione had a near conniption,” he chuckles. “But it’s the logical solution. The curse absorbs everything you show it and gives it back to you, better and smarter. If there’s no data for it to learn from, then you’re free.”

Harry collapses into the chair beside Ron, mind whirling. The room twists around them. They’re in the Gryffindor Common Room now, Ginny and Hermione near the fireplace, no more Walnut table and Cherry chairs. Except, Molly Weasley’s washing dishes in the corner. No. 

Obediently, Molly Weasley pops away. And then, the room is shifting again. 

“Without memories, the curse will implode into the simplest version of itself: a basic mind trap. Straightforward, simple. The kind that Aurors learn in training.” 

“JUST TELL ME WHAT TO DO, RON,” Harry bellows. 

The Burrow. Except, there are two Georges. No. The room glitches and restarts. 

“They won’t try Obliviation with Malfoy. Healers think it’s too late, that he’s too weak even to break out of the simplest version.”

The office and Draco… he’s back. He’s back and alive and leaning back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, inspecting a takeout box. Yes. 

The room fills in further, encouraged. Case files pile up on Harry’s desk; Draco’s Statue of Liberty trinket is back, in the right place this time; an evidence board on the wall, newspaper clippings, Draco’s neat, white notes, Harry’s scrawl. 

“It’s unethical to deprive him of his memories now.” Ron says. 

Harry inspects the board closely. 7 people dead over 2 months. Inconsistencies in their deaths, but clearly perpetrated by the same actor. A pale blue envelope mailed to each victim. It explodes within minutes of delivery, enveloping its target into a coma.  

Seemingly random victims. A middle-aged mother, an elderly school teacher, a teenager days away from his 15th birthday. Muggles, Purebloods, Half-Bloods, and a Squib. Varying races, different financials. 

“Weird, isn’t it?” Draco’s staring at him. “Almost as if they chose the most diverse targets on purpose.”

Harry turns to him slowly, “Why?”

Draco tosses him an egg roll and shrugs, “Make sure we can’t trace them?” Draco joins him at the board, looks over the victim list.

The first had taken one month to die, slowly incapacitated. The second had taken only half that time, he had perished within two weeks. Faster and faster after that. The latest victim, a five-year old girl, was gone in three days. 

It was the first time, in five years of working together, that Harry saw Draco break down. Crouched outside her Mungo’s room, shivering, quiet; Harry had pulled him up and deposited him home. He came back to work two days later, his clenched jaw and fierce determination lodging itself into Harry’s heart.

Draco’s written a note under her picture: The curse is learning. 

“What is this?”

“You didn’t see the Mungo’s report? They think it’s targeting memories. With each iteration, it’s getting faster and killing quicker. Hermione was telling me about this thing…”

“Artificial Intelligence.”

“Exactly,” Draco smiles, surprised, “it absorbs huge amounts of data until it learns how to adapt to every condition.”

“The diverse victims— someone is teaching it how to learn, adapt to every condition,” Harry repeats. Draco’s standing near his desk again, illuminated by the soft light of his lamp. Soft blonde locks fall into his eyes as he looks over a case file. Harry wonders if this version will flinch away if he reaches out. Wonders if the curse has learned this detail yet. He hopes it hasn’t.

“They’re going to let him die in his own fake world. A peaceful death, they called it.” Ron is still sitting in the corner of the office, in a cushioned armchair.

Harry shakes his head, silently, frantically. There’s a pale blue envelope on Draco’s desk. 

“Draco, what is that?”

Draco looks at the envelope and back at Harry, nonchalant. Then, his face morphs into fear, mirroring Harry’s own expression. It’s the curse, it’s learning. Harry’s teaching it.

“The curse was targeting Malfoy. You were hit since you were in such close proximity, but it's a much weaker variant. You can make it out, Harry. You can help Malfoy navigate out.” Ron says from his corner.

“Harry,” Draco whispers. “What do I do?”

Harry strides forward, takes Draco’s shoulders in his hands. This is real now; Harry remembers this morning. “I’ll come for you, okay? We know what it is now, we’ll figure out how to stop it. Draco, you’ll be fine.”

Draco’s falling now. His eyes are shut, he’s laying on the floor, head tilted toward Harry.

Draco’s dying.

“RON, WHAT DO I DO? TELL ME WHAT TO DO!”

Ron’s not in his corner anymore. He’s gone, and so is his armchair, and it’s just Harry alone, in his office, with Draco’s body. 

The room is still filling up around him. Draco’s coffee mug, steaming on his desk. Blank walls slowly plastered over with Auror-standard tan wallpaper. Except. Except, Severus Snape is standing over Draco.

Harry steps closer cautiously, willful not to let the curse know that Snape doesn’t belong. 

“The headmaster has asked me to teach you Occlumency. I can only hope that you prove more adept at it than Potions,” Snape says, looking up at Harry with dark, hooded eyes. 

A memory, then. Out of place, but relevant. Harry remembers Ron’s words: The curse doesn’t know which memories are relevant. It’s guessing, responding to Harry’s needs. It’s helping. 

“Right. You’re right.” Harry says, loud. Snape solidifies, robes saturating darker. 

“Rid your mind of all emotion,” Snape continues. “Empty it, make it blank and calm.”

“Empty it,” Harry whispers. He takes a last look at Draco and closes his eyes. 

He opens them to a plain white room. Nothing on the walls, the floor. Nothing, except a door. A simple mind trap. Harry opens the door.

i just love the idea that the curse helps him get out. since AI is always developed in service to others, i like the idea that even weaponized as a curse, it would still adapt to the needs of its target and help them in any way possible. idk pals!!!! i just have a lot of thoughts about AI, come scream with me about it!!!!!!!

also, if you haven’t already, i would highly recommend reading the article this is based off-- it is fascinating.

[wiypt-writes]

Murder, He Wrote

Epilogue

Summary: You and Ransom attend the launch of his book and the cover closes on your story.

Warnings: Bad language, Mature (NSFW, 18+) NON-CON situations, kidnap, violence. Blood. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER…READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED…YOU HAVE BEENWARNED.

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: The end! I can’t believe all this span from @jtargaryen18​’s Halloween Challenge last year. I hope you have enjoyed his as much as I have.

Word Count: 3.6k

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK series so don’t @me if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18 get off my blog!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 7

 The town car and it's driver took you to whatever swanky hotel Ransom and his publishers had decided upon, you not caring the slightest inwardly, outwardly only half paying attention. You glanced out the window watching the lights of downtown pass by as your husband of merely three weeks held your hand and rubbed the back of it with his thumb. 

It was a warm July evening, the two of you dressed to the nines in formal attire. Ransom had insisted the launch be an invite only, formal event. Therefore, he was dressed in a two-piece suit, black of course, with a crisp white button down, silken black tie, and you, you looked like an ice queen's slutty sister. The powder blue silk dress you wore tied together with thin straps on each shoulder, your feet already hurting in your nude six inch sandals. Your free hand tapped a neatly manicured finger over your clutch that matched your shoes. A delicate white gold and diamond tennis bracelet adorned your wrist whilst the necklace you'd been gifted at Christmas hung around your neck. You wore your hair the way he said he loved it, in a ponytail full of waves and wisps framing your face.

After the incident on Valentine’s Day, you’d spent another two weeks in the confines of the basement. All luxuries removed and you were used and abused in exactly the way you had been when Ransom had first taken you, until he’d once more sucked the fight out of you. Only this time you didn’t have the strength to find it again. 

You played the part you’d been cast in his sick little fantasy and became totally passive to his whims. You let him fuck you which, in all honesty, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant situation as he knew his way around your body and it felt good. You had given up denying it, and for the moments he was teasing those carnal reactions out of you, you escaped, let yourself imagine you were with someone who you wanted. And by keeping him sweet, you fooled him into thinking you were content. And things settled down, you had that halfway to normal life that you’d achieved before you discovered his manuscript.

But it was bullshit. A means to an end. And you deserved a fucking Oscar.

He’d had the audacity to propose to you, too. In a restaurant. Surrounded by people. He asked you the question, like you had a fucking choice.

Angry, desperate tears had filled your eyes as you’d simply gaped at him, tears the deluded cunt took for you being overwhelmed with happiness. With a smile he slipped the gaudily large diamond on your finger, sealing your fate.

It weighed as heavy on your hand as the grief for your lost life, and the despair at your situation did in your heart.

You’d had a small wedding. Attended simply by your parents and sister. He sent an invite to his mother and father but they didn’t show up. Your dad walked you down the aisle and as you walked towards the man you hated with every breath in your body, your father kissed your cheek and asked you if you were sure you wanted to do this. And no, of course you didn’t, but what could you do?

There was no way out. 

“You look as gorgeous tonight as you did on our wedding day.” Ransom’s voice slightly startled you and you turned to face him. 

You smiled at him, the smile you knew he wanted to see, as he placed a soft kiss to your cheek before doing the same to your hand, his lips ghosted over the top of the obscene rock and matching band on your finger which caught the lights of the city, sparkling with all the ferocity of a supernova.

Before you needed to reply with some half assed compliment back, the town car stopped as the driver got out and opened Ransom's door.

"Wait here," he instructed and walked around with the driver on the other side, escorting you out the minute your own door opened.

Flashbulbs fired off in your eyes, no doubt the press there for some absolutely ridiculous notion that this book was anything but its true nature of terror and disgust.

Ransom’s hand pressed into the base of your back as he guided you along in front of him, various members of the press calling his name, and you heard the excited shouts from some as they spotted the bands on both yours and Ransom’s hands, positively shrieking as they asked when you’d gotten married. 

The headlines flashed in your mind now, 'Grandson of the Great Harlan Thrombey Releases First Suspense Novel'. 'One of Boston's Most Notorious and Eligible Bachelors is Strictly Off The Market' . 'Trust Fund Playboy Sinks His Bunny'. 

It made you want to puke. 

In fact, as the press line faded and you stepped foot into the lobby, you swallowed back the bile forcing its way up. A tray with champagne flutes passed you by and you immediately snagged one.

When Ransom had been distracted for a brief moment, you quickly glanced around and swallowed back the entire flute of the bubbly drink. Delightfully enjoying the brief taste and quick head rush it gave you.

The further you walked into the event, his hand still against your bare back, the louder it grew and the more trays of champagne and appetizers were floating by.

As typical, the two of you were fashionably late so, you had little chance to take part in any nibble or further, a drink, because the supposed "man of the hour", more like terror of life, was due to give a speech.

His agent pulled the two of you aside and made mention that it was time for Ransom to greet his guests. He pressed a sickening sweet kiss to your lips and confidently took to the small podium atop a small stage nearby.

“First and foremost, thank you to everyone who came out tonight. But more importantly, thank you to my beautiful wife, without you Sweetheart, this wouldn't be possible.”

The smile he flashed you was loaded with meaning as the pair of you looked at one another, his eyes shining with the depraved private understanding you shared. 

And you hated him then just about as much as you ever had.

Excited muttering spread around the room as he had knowingly referred to you as his wife. It was the first time he’d announced your marriage to the world but, as he smiled and held his hands up, nodding smugly and confirming whatever people were asking him, you felt nothing but an overwhelming sense of nausea. To everyone else it was a sweet dedication, to you it was a sickening truth. This book was based on what he’d done to you. What he was saying was literal truth. 

And the fact that the people currently applauding whatever he had said would never realise the true nature of those words on the pages of his book made you want to vomit in your handbag.

Applause rang around the room and you realised everyone was turned in your direction. Drawing your shoulders back you stood tall and once more fixed that fake smile on your face before Ransom cleared his throat and began to speak again.

But you didn't listen, you drowned him out, the sound of his voice distant and murky like Charlie Brown's teacher. You allowed you mind to think of anything but the present, other than the fact that these people were in unknowing full support of the hell you'd been through the last nine months.

Eventually a loud, rapturous applause signalled the end of his speech and he stepped back, smiling and then turned to the man from his publishers who shook his hand furiously, before the pair of them posed for photos.

That was when he beckoned you to him, looking at you in such a way that made your skin crawl and your teeth seethe with each breath. This bastard expected a photo op from you above all this, commemorating this disaster.

On autopilot you headed towards him, indifference obedience now your specialty and his arm curled possessively round your waist, fingers splaying on your hip. You posed and smiled as the flashes went off, but as you stole a glance at the large, ornate clock on the wall, you suddenly felt your head beginning to swim.

Seeing a convenient way out of this bullshit, you made sure to falter just a little, placing your hand to your chest. It caused Ransom's attention to turn to you.

"Sweetheart, are you alright?"

“I’m feeling a little light headed and warm.” You looked up at him. “Could we maybe get some air?”

"Sure, yeah," he looked to his agent and they nodded towards a side door in the room.

His arm still round you, playing the doting husband, he led you towards it and opened it with a flourish, allowing you to step out in front of him. 

You emerged into the alley at the side of the building and took a huge gulp of air, steadying yourself.

"Y/N, what's wrong?"

You were warm, flushed, your skin tingling as the now cooling air hit your slightly damp skin, your nipples perking at the temperature change were visible through the silk dress, and you didn’t miss the heated glance he gave them as you spoke. "I, I don't know. I think it's all the commotion."

“You do look a little flushed.” His eyes moved back to yours and he studied you for a moment, his large hands gently cupping your face as he kissed your forehead before his lips pressed to yours. “Wanna take a walk?”

Despite the fact you really couldn’t walk far in the ridiculous shoes you were in, you nodded. Anything to avoid going back in there and listening to all those sycophants kissing his ass.

He took your hand and started walking slowly down the alley. You were mid-way down when a man jumped out from behind the dumpster. You screamed and instinctively Ransom jumped to the side, pulling you slightly behind him.

“Give me the money and the jewellery, no one gets hurt.” The man spoke gruffly and you felt Ransom draw himself up to his full height as he glared at the dirty, dishevelled man, disdain on his face.

“Eat shit.”

“Ransom, just... please give him what he wants.” Your voice trembled as your body shook, your right hand already removing the rings on your left.

“I’d listen to your pretty wife, if I were you.” The man spoke as he reached into his pocket and when he withdrew his hand you swallowed at the unmistakable flash of metal.

“Fuck, Ransom, he’s got a knife!” You clutched his arm. “Please just give it to him!”

"Fuck, no," he started reaching for his phone but the man lunged toward him.

In the melee that followed, you were thrown to the side, your rings clanging to the floor somewhere along with your clutch, your palms and knees scraping painfully on the floor. By the time you’d pushed yourself up, you saw the man scrambling to his feet, Ransom’s watch and wallet in his hand. He turned to look at you and you backed away, stumbling once more to the ground letting out a blood curdling scream as he advanced. He stopped, picked up your rings and your bag, before he turned, bolting up the alley and rounding the corner, disappearing from sight.

"Y/N," the croaking voice came from your husband as he staggered towards you, a deep red seeping through his white dress shirt, his one hand attempting to stave off the bleeding. The other, cradling his phone. But he didn't get more than a few steps as he collapsed nearby. 

"Ransom!" You shrieked and heels be damned, you ran to him, looking around, "help!" 

"Call 9-1-1, Baby," he begged, trying to thrust the phone into your hand and you leaned over him. 

With a jittery hand you swiped over to the emergency call option and hit the first two digits before you glanced around again and hesitated, rising slowly to your feet.

“What...” Ransom’s chest heaved as he looked up at you, his face white with shock as you turned the phone in your hand and shrugged.

“Yeah, you see, I could call for help but...” with that you tossed his phone to the hard ground and crunched it with your stupidly high heel, rotating your foot to make double sure, the glass and metal grinding between the stiletto and the tarmac. “Whoops, looks like it got smashed in the fight.” You gave a little chuckle. “And of course, mine was in my bag which he took. Isn’t that ironic? I mean the first time you permit me to use it for something other than to contact you or my mom, I can’t.” You made a little tutting noise. “Guess I’ll just have to keep yelling and hope someone hears.”

With that you turned and screamed, a frantic yell. “Please, someone help us! Please, he’s been stabbed, call 9-1-1.” You slowly dropped back to a kneel, ignoring the sting of your grazed knees and smirked. “Dammed, I really am good at this acting shit, don’t you think, handsome?”

Ransom coughed a harsh and wet cough. His chest heaving raggedly as he struggled between catching a breath and bleeding out. 

“Y/N...” he spluttered, “you...please...”

"So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” you emphasised the 't' of the last word as you spoke the very same line that he had delivered to you months ago, the threat he had held over you and used to keep you in check whenever you stepped over that line. 

His eyes widened further as the realisation set in, you could see his brain working and it gave you a buzz, a sense of satisfaction to know that he understood this was your doing.

You wanted the last thing this bastard thought about to be how you were responsible for his death. But more so, his narcissistic and sociopathic tendencies be damned, you wanted him to completely understand exactly how it was his fault. 

And given the way he was bleeding and struggling for breath, you didn’t have long.

Another scream for help flew from your mouth as you pressed one hand on top of his which were now both clutched to the wound in his stomach, the other brushing his hair back slightly as you smiled down at him. 

“I told you when you threw me back in the basement that the way you treat people would come back to haunt you.” You gave a little shrug. “And, when you told the homeless guy looking in the bins on collection day a few months back to eat shit and get a job, well, he took it kinda personally. He didn’t even blink when I asked how much it would take to knock you off.”

"You..." choking on blood, "vicious..." choke,

At that you gave another loud hysteric yell for help before you turned your head back to look at him.

“See, once upon a time I thought you’d changed. But here’s the thing, a person like you doesn’t change, Hugh. You’re incapable of love. You take what you want when you want for no reason other than it pleases you.”

Another scream for help, and this time you could hear someone answering and a lot of yells as people started running towards you.

“Well, now I’ve taken your life like you took mine.” You bent down, your forehead pressing to his as you smirked. His arm reached up to grab you, his blood soaked hand curling over your cheek and side of your neck. "And you know what? It feels good."

His palm was warm and slick against your skin and his eyes blazed with anger as his fingers squeezed. You knew he was desperately trying to hurt you but you felt nothing. You smiled, as you placed a soft kiss to his lips, your words whispered as you pulled back ever so slightly. “Karma’s a bitch, and so am I. See you in hell.”

As the fake tears started to pool in your eyes once more, you allowed your lip to tremble for distraught emphasis. Blood was now trickling out of Ransom's mouth, along down his ear and to the tarmac. You pulled back just a little so as to see his eyes. You wanted to watch him choke on his own blood as he took that final breath. You started sputtering words incoherently as you amped up the hysteria, hearing the footfalls now just behind you. 

He didn’t even make it to the hospital. 

Hugh Ransom Drysdale was pronounced dead at 21:05 hours on Friday 17th July where he lay in a pool of his own blood, in that dark alleyway down the side of the hotel.

Leaving you a widow.

And free. 

***10 months later***

It was as simple as it sounded, closing your eyes and pointing to a spot on a map. Your finger ended up on Boulder. 

Colorado was far enough from the last year or so of your life that you could feel comfortable. You'd researched it, finding it to be something worth interest. Affordable. Breath-taking scenery. Incredible life altering activities and quaint little towns. The summers were supposedly warm but rarely did the temperature rise above ninety-five, the winters were supposedly very cold, dry and windy; rarely dropping below six degrees with partly cloudy skies year round.

The months following Ransom’s death had been as draining as humanly possible. The investigation had involved countless interviews before the police and authorities settled for it being a mugging gone wrong. But then there had been the months of wrangling and private law cases his parents had attempted to bring against you to prevent you getting his money, despite the probate law being fairly simple. You were married. He left no will. It was yours by default. 

Eventually, when the Drysdales had exhausted every last option, they were forced to concede and that was when you made the decision to leave, a decision of which your parents were highly encouraging. They practically talked you into this whole thing to begin with. Helping you leave your nightmares behind. Despite them not suspecting anything at first, you weren't blind to the fact that things still had not sat right with them. You knew they had suspected a level coercion, that maybe you'd had a manic episode of mental illness, but you never had divulged the full details and by the time he was gone, they hadn't cared. Your relationship with them had strengthened and healed and that was what you cared about.

Now, you were newly nestled in Boulder with a great condo downtown, a stone’s throw from the historic district that was filled with cliché shops and bars.  Whilst you didn’t need the money, you’d taken a job working in the media department of a private law firm. It was a far cry from your journalist days, but it suited you just fine.

The more distance you put between who you were now and who you had been, the better. 

You were at peace.

The May evening air was temperate as you crossed the street and opened the door to the designated bar in which you were meeting your new group of friends, mostly gathered from work, for a girl's night out. You’d been held up a little in the office so they were already waiting at a table. You waved and gestured to the bar, indicating you were going to get a drink. 

As you sidled up to the wooden counter, you were jolted a little into a man to your right. You turned to apologise and gave a little double take. You recognised him instantly. But you didn’t want to make that obvious and cause him to feel uncomfortable. You knew how it felt, to have everyone looking at you, hushed whispered comments as you went about your business, people trying to figure out if you were who they thought you were.

That was part of the reason you had moved, and you sure as hell weren’t about to subject the man next to you to the same, uncomfortable experiences. 

Recovering quickly, you hastily apologised and he smiled.

“Don’t worry about it.” His Boston accent was evident and you smiled.

“I miss that accent.” 

The man chuckled, his warm blue eyes creasing slightly as he looked at you. “You from Boston, too?”

“Concord.”

“Newton.” He replied, “well, I lived there anyway, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You wrinkled your nose. “Should I? Know that, I mean?”

He studied you for a moment, and you kept your face as passive as possible. You could tell he knew that you knew, but you gave a shrug none-the-less and he smiled, a gorgeous smile that lit up his entire face, perfect white teeth flashing from beneath an immaculately groomed beard, as he extended his arm towards you.

“Andy Barber.” His fingers gently brushed the back of your knuckles, as you shook his hand, his grip warm and gentle.

“Oh, of course.” You smiled back. “One of our attorneys.”

“Our?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m Y/N. I work in the media department. I mean I only started a few weeks ago but...”

“Well, in that case, I’m pleased to meet you, Y/N, and welcome aboard.” His smile didn’t falter as he let go of your hand and gestured to the bar. “Can I get you a drink?”

You paused for a moment before you took a deep breath.

And nodded.

“Sure, that’d be great.”

******

Sequel: Follow Andy and reader’s story in Consciousness Of Guilt. 

[bruhstories]

Pet

summary: you're his perfect weapon pairing: karl heisenberg x fem!reader warning & content: master/slave dynamic if you squint, oral sex (male & female receiving), unprotected sex, daddy kink, slightly possessive heisenberg? word count: 1.7k

a/n: it just hit me that the other heisenberg fic i'm working on maaay work as a prequel to this one, so if you're interested in reading that, let me know. happy reading! and @theeerealpunkin, this is for you xD

When you wandered into that junkyard, you were nothing but a helpless little girl, orphaned, battered and bruised, weak and on the brink of death. It was honestly a miracle you made it so far, but he took pity in you, took you under his wing, taught you how to survive in such a cruel world, and turned you into a weapon. A lethal weapon. To the other lords, you were Heisenberg's rabid dog, and no one dared to lay a finger on him while you were there to guard him, but to him, you were his favourite pet. Obedient little thing, you would steal for him, kill for him and die for him, should he ask you to do it. But he never did, and never will, because in his heart, whatever was left of it, he cherished you.

The dynamic you two had was... strange, to say the least. He was your master, and you never questioned his authority, but the difference between you and his mindless minions was that you willingly gave yourself to him, mind, body and soul, no brainwashing needed. Still, Heisenberg knew that, should you ever turn against him, you could kill him without breaking a sweat, so he made sure to show how much he appreciated you, rarely ever treating you badly. In fact, he always considered you his equal, despite your personal choice to submit to him. And he didn't mind. By the gods, he didn't mind it one bit. To see such a powerful being as yourself whimper and writhe under him, begging for more, aching to please him, these things only made Heisenberg adore you. And he couldn't deny he was drunk on the fact that he had so much power over you, someone who could literally destroy him. But what could you do? You loved him. You loved to please him. "Crawl to me, pet." He orders, and you comply, kneeling in the doorway, placing your hands on the floor. You were exquisite, down on all fours, dragging your knees across the cold metal, eyes on him, always on him. You crawl under the table, resting your head on his thigh as he pats you head. "Atta girl. Daddy's had a long day, gonna help me feel good?" You eagerly nod, fingers immediately fumbling with the buckle of his belt. He chuckles, watching you struggle with the damned thing, but he won't lift a single finger to help you. Drool pools under your tongue when you feel how hard he is, and you finally undo the blasted buckle, releasing his cock from its confinements.

"Please..." You whisper, head tilted, breath tickling his glistening tip, but you don't dare to taste him unless he tells you to.

"What's that?"

"Can I have it? Please?"

He would love to humiliate you, but the fact of the matter is that he can't wait any longer.

"Have it all." Heisenberg gives you permission and you don't even thank him, tongue already swirling around the tip of his cock. This isn't the first time you do this, but he just can't get enough of you. He's been with other women before, even after he met you, but none of them were you. You hollow your cheeks, bobbing your head with a frantic pace, sloppily sucking and slurping and moaning. "Fuck, that's right, take it all." Heisenberg pushes your head down, depriving you of air. When he removes his hand, you pull away, gasping for air with teary eyes, but as you lean back, he stops you. "I'm feeling generous today. Get on the table."

You don't question his command, but you can't help but feel slightly confused. It's not unusual for him to fuck you, you just weren't expecting him to do it so soon.

"How do you want me, daddy? Bent over?" You purr, stretching your arms on the table.

"No, no, lay on your back."

Nodding, you turn around, tugging at your skirt and letting it fall to the floor as you lift yourself on the table. Heisenberg removes his leather gloves as you patiently wait, and he finally turns to you, jacket and shirt discarded, planting kisses on your inner thigh.

"I'm feeling very generous today." He sneers before dipping his head between your legs, and you want to protest, but you can't, because you never question him. You feel his tongue dragging over your slit, sending chills down your spine. This is definitely a surprise, since he's never given your pussy this kind of attention, but you can't deny how good it feels, the way he's lapping at your cunt like a famished man, his beard tickling your oversensitive skin. You throw your head back, chanting his name over and over again, thighs trembling from the stimulation.

"F-fuck, 's good! Daddy, this feels so good!" You mewl, your juices mixed with his saliva dripping down your ass. In the heat of the moment, you dare to card your fingers through his salt and pepper hair, hips bucking against his mouth. You can feel his grin against your skin, because no matter how much Heisenberg likes to use you for his own pleasure, he adores to see you break from the bliss. And as much you would love to come on his tongue, you need something to fill your aching cunt. "P-please fuck me, I need to feel you, please please please!" You cry out, propping yourself on your elbows to look at him — and, boy, he looks incredible, with your arousal and his spit dripping down his beard, so focused on making you feel good. Heisenberg pulls away giving your pussy a good slap, which makes you jolt up. He takes a step back, taking a good look at you — legs spread, eyes glossy and lidded, tits out of your half-buttoned shirt — a sight for sore eyes.

"I haven't even fingered you yet. Think ya’ earned it?" He tilts his head and you nod like a broken puppet, pushing your hips closer to the edge of the table.

"Yes, yes, please, daddy! Use me, use my cunt!" You mewl, and he digs his fingers into the plush of your hips, turning you around.

"Act like a bitch in heat, get fucked like a bitch in heat." Heisenberg doesn't hesitate to push his cock between your folds after lifting one of your legs on the table. Inch by inch, he bottoms out, and like a good girl, you throw your head back, mouth agape and tongue poking out.

"Just l-like t-that!"

"Shit, you're so tight." He can't help but be astonished that after so much time of using and abusing your cunt, it always feels like it's the first time. It could be because you're not technically a human anymore, or because he's just so fond of you. When he pinches one of your nipples, you automatically lift your ass, bucking against his hips, clenching around his cock and moaning his name. But the pleasure engulfing your entire body makes it difficult for you to prop yourself on your arms, and so you let yourself fall on the wooden table. Fingers gently brush through your locks before Heisenberg yanks you by the hair, pushing his chest against your back to feel you closer.

"Tell me, Y/N, who do you belong to?" He sneers into your ear, breath fanning over your skin.

"You, I belong t-to you!"

"Good. And there's no way in hell anyone else gets to touch you the way I do."

"N-no one, daddy! I'm yours- oh, fuck! Please, let me see you..."

"You wanna look into my eyes when you come on my cock, you little slut?"

"Mhm!" You can barely speak, his thrusts numbing your brain.

Heisenberg doesn't reply, only pulling out to grant you your wish while turning you around. His elbow pushes your leg to the side, despite not needing to, since you're already eager to take him back in. He slips his cock in with so much ease, and you just know you were made for him.

"Better?" He quirks a brow at you, green orbs burning into your soul.

"Yes, t-thank you!" You don't forget to show him just how much you appreciate his kind gesture, your trembling hand cupping his cheek.

The gesture is so tender that he can't help but sigh at the touch. Heisenberg doesn't want to give you the impression that he cares that much, because if he does — if he cares — you'll only become a weakness. And he can't afford to be weak, can't afford to lose you. The man slaps your hand away, gripping your hips so hard your skin begins to bruise, fucking you deeper, harder, pace so brutal the table begins to slide on the metal floor. The pain you're feeling is nothing compared to the pleasure, and so you wrap your legs around his waist, digging your fingernails into his shoulders, earning a hiss out of him. You can feel your orgasm building up, culminating in the sweetest release. He's close, too, you feel it in the way his cock twitches against your spongy walls, so drag your nails over his skin, pulling him closer to you. He smells of oil, liquor and cigarettes, and it's so intoxicating and addictive you come undone.

"F-fuck, I love you! I love you so much!" You melt under him, muscles relaxing. Your confession has him reach his climax, and with a few final thrusts, he spills his seed into your cunt. Not that it would matter since the parasite that turned you into a weapon made both of you infertile. Heisenberg slowly pulls out, careful not to cause you any discomfort. You're still a quivering mess on his workbench, and he hands you a towel, his way of showing that he cares.

"Does it bother you that I don't love you back?" He lies. You tilt your head, scrunching your nose as you wipe yourself clean.

"Hmmm, no, not really. You are my master, after all, and I'm your pet."

Heisenberg doesn't speak, focused on getting dressed. You're his pet, but you make him want to live another day. You make him want to destroy Miranda and break free. You make him smile, and laugh, and you make him feel human again. He turns on his heels, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear before planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"That's right, you're my pet."

[yionji]

Open wide

A/N: So i got insipired by this today,so here I go.

Tags: Vibrators,smut,humillation,denigrated reader,slut shaming,hair pulling,rough,denigration,piss kink,hits,personal use,deepthroat,overstimulation,forced stimulation, personal use,someone hearing,big cock,forced wetting,urine,cum inside,dirty talk,blowjobs,human,stepping on reader clit, toilet,light mind break,semi passed out,sub reader,pubics hair,urine retention,gaggin,crying.

Pairings: Getou x f!reader

Summary: Getou is obbsesed with y/n so he start being possesive.

“Well, if you’re so terrified of someone overhearing us…” Getou said, his voice lower than previously. “We could always go somewhere more private.” You didn’t even agree with or deny his statement, still, he just started walking away, with you following like some obedient dog

You were still in your academy uniform, he was playing with you for a long time, he even put a vibrator in your pussy everything you did was under his control, he always had fun speeding you up very fast in serious situations. He lead you back to your dorm room, halting in front of the door and making you open it. Once the two of you were inside, he closed the door behind him.

With a simple flick of his wrist, Getou dialled the vibrator up to its highest setting. You barely bit back a squeal and your knees buckle. You were panting and shaking, not daring enough to look him in the eye right now. It was too much, you were so sensitive it nearly hurt. Shame thrummed in your veins with his gaze burning holes into you, yet it just served to make you more aroused, your thighs impatiently rubbing together. Despite how the stimulation was driving you crazy, it was even worse once he turned it off and you whined in protest.

“I don’t think you should be complaining right now,” He said in a voice a little too cheery for this situation as he took another step towards you. “You should feel lucky I’m even considering putting my hands on such a filthy mutt .” In any other situation those comments would’ve made you upset or annoyed, now it sent a pang of arousal between your legs.

Getou gave you a harsh shove, which sent you falling to your knees. The impact hurt, but with the pleasure still clouding your mind, it only made you let out a weak moan, now he was the one looking down at you. You felt pathetic and small, slick dripping from your abused hole. You’d been kept on edge for such a while now, the only thing you could think of was that you just wanted to come already.

“Now that’s more like it!” He turned the vibrator on its lowest setting and you shuddered. It wasn’t enough to get you anywhere close to an orgasm, nonetheless, it was way better than nothing at all. Getou pushed your legs slightly apart, shoving his foot against your clothed crotch. "Ooh the smell of your pussy is so disgusting it gets up here, it makes me want to fuck you" he exclaim with a deep voice and a smile.

You immediately began grinding against it but because of your position, it was hard to get any actual relief from it. He just snickered, clearly revelling in your pitiful display.

“God, even I couldn’t have imagined how much of a whore you actually are. You’re like bitch in heat,” The words cut at you and made you whimper pathetically as his foot applied more pressure. “But I’m getting a bit bored here, you’re the one having all the fun!” Judging by the bulge in his pants he was definitely enjoying this, yet you kept your mouth shut. Nevertheless, a small smile spread over your lips. With your flushed skin and shivering form, it looked coyer than you meant it too.

“What are you smiling at, stupid slut? Didn’t I just say it? I’m. Bored. Do something to entertain me!”

“Well, uh,” It was hard to think straight, given the state you were in. The vibrator was still buzzing away, giving you just enough pleasure to feel good but never enough to get you to cum. You couldn’t really get creative right now. “What do you want me to do?...”

Getou sneered at you, one of his hands grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging harshly on it. A moan was ripped from your throat, pain and pleasure mingling together. “Do I have to think of everything for you? You can’t even think of a way to distract me momentarily?” He huffed, digging his shoes against your clothed clit painfully. “You really are only good enough as a wet hole for me to fuck.”

Keeping his fingers tied into your hair, he uses his other hand to unzip his pants. His dick is hard and leaking from the tip when he pulls it out.  “Open wide!” He said with a deep voice, before shoving his cock into your mouth. Getou didn’t give you any time to adjust or to let yourself relax, instead making you gag by immediately thrusting. You couldn’t breathe and tears welled up in your eyes. He kept your head in place by keeping a tight grip on your hair, his fingernails digging into your skin. This wasn’t a blowjob, no, he was using your mouth as a fleshlight.

Getou was anything except quiet, moans and grunts constantly falling from his lips and the sounds coming out of your mouth were loud and sloppy, Getou was so entertained playing with your mouth that he was distracted from what was going on around him that he didn't realize that gojo was listening to everything from outside your room.

"Maybe I can use y/n later for myself" he said quietly to himself.

Getou continue,though you weren’t sure if they were all real, or he was just acting at some points. “Ahh- You must do this soooo often, rright?” He panted out, smirking down at you. “I bet you’d suck a-anyone off if they asked!”

Your teeth scrape against the underside and he actually let out a high pitched whine. If your mouth wasn’t stuffed full and you weren’t almost suffocating, you would’ve laughed.

He didn’t appear to like it as much, however, he dug his shoe against your pussy. Hard, practically digging in. Getou was still fucking your mouth, though his hips were starting to stutter, and his foot moved because of it. Now, he was putting a lot of stress on your bladder more than anywhere else. You’d been too strung up to use the bathroom for a while and with this weight, you were sure you’d piss yourself if this was kept up for too long.

But you were unable to speak while he was still fucking your mouth, so you couldn’t tell him what was wrong. Any attempt you made merely sent vibrations up his cock, making him moan appreciatively. You hollow out your cheeks and are rewarded with a sharp moan and another tug at your hair as he hits the back of your throat. Your legs shook with the effort of keeping it in.

A gush of urine escaped at a particular harsh movement and once it started, there was no way you were able to stop it. The stream made an audible hissing sound, making an embarrassed flush rise to your cheeks. Your body sent mixed signals to rush through you, both bliss and utter humiliation and you shivered in confused pleasure. The heat was trapped in your skirt for a few moments before it leaked through, turning your skirt a darker shade and allowing a small puddle to form beneath you. On one side you wanted to curl up and never open your eyes again, but the relief felt just as amazing as an orgasm could have. Tears streamed down your cheeks because of the conflicting emotions.

You didn’t, couldn’t, look him in the eye as he stilled his hips and almost pulled out completely, allowing you to breathe again and to make the blurry edges of your vision return to normal. This surely had to be the end of it, right? He couldn’t possibly be into this, he would actually get grossed out and leave. Honestly, you didn’t want that to happen, the thought of it making you nauseous.

Getou had been brought into a stunned silence, a blank expression overtaking his features. He blinked once, twice. You were about to mutter out an apology and usher him to leave so you could clean up, nonetheless, before you were able to do that, he let out a low hum and the familiar, condescending smirk returned to him. Looking up at him, his cheeks were red and his breaths were stuttery and quick.        

Could it be?...

“I’d say you almost look pretty when you’re crying,” Every thought is robbed away again as his hips make contact with your face once more and he let out a cackle. “B-but you look prettier sucking on my dick~!” It only took him a few thrusts, with your throat constricting around him further with every movement, before he finished inside you without warning, grunting loudly as he did so. You didn’t have much of a choice except swallowing.

He pulled his veiny cock out of you again.

"You know men have a certain urge to pee after they finish," you couldn't believe what you were hearing, could you?

Without a squeak he grabbed you roughly by the hair making you swallow his cock again and the tip of his head hit the back of your throat, you star gagging and crying so much more than before.

"Shh, shhh" Getou said as he pressed your head with his hips, your nose tickled his pubic hairs, he smelled so great.

Getou took a long breath and you began to feel a liquid running down your throat and into your stomach.

He let out a breath of relief and a grunt and continued to pee until he finished and looked down to see your face.

"You really look good sucking my cock, y/n" He let go of you roughly causing you to bang your head against the wall, only to hear the sound of his pants buckling.

"You're such a grear human toilet,my human toilet"

You coughed and wheezed for air once he finally fully released you, glad that air was freely available. Your head hurt and your throat felt scratchy and sore, the fabric of your plants clinging against your skin. Basically, you were a disgusting mess. Once you returned to reality.

“Good luck cleaning, whore!” He called out while glancing over his shoulder for the last time. “See you next time!” Then, he slammed your door shut. You simply continued to sit there for a few seconds, brain still struggling to comprehend that all of that had actually happened.

Well, that definitely was an experience.

<3

[narutogwriting]

Eat Your Words

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

CW: NSFW; creampie; dirty talk; cheating

Length: 2.6k+

Summary: Kiba is your jerk of an ex boyfriend. All you wanted was to get your stuff and never see him again. But Kiba has a special way of getting under your skin. 

Inspired by me wanting Kiba to rail me into oblivion

Please don’t tag as NSFW! 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

“Get out of my face, and just give me my shit!”

You felt like your head was going to explode. How could one person be so arrogant, so obnoxious, so infuriating!?

Kiba snickered at you, crossing his arms and leaning back against his doorway. He looked so cool like that, so calm and collected. Meanwhile you looked like a crazy person, screaming at his front door in the middle of the day. He always did know how to press your buttons just right.

“I’m not in your face.” Kiba pointed out, raising his eyebrows. “I’d say I’m an appropriate distance away, given the circumstances. But you and I both know we’ve been a lot closer.”

You wished you could slap that smug smirk off his face.

What you ever saw in Kiba Inuzuka was beyond you. It must have been temporary psychosis, a mental breakdown. Somehow you had spent an entire year dating him before you finally came to your senses and ran for the hills. You’d never met someone so full of themselves in your life.

Taking a deep breath, you rubbed your temples, trying to compose yourself. This is what he always did, said just the right thing to get you all worked up and then poked you until you burst. You had to stop falling for it. Feeling like the hot air was cartoonishly escaping from your ears, you straightened, eyeing the brunette in front of you.

It must have been purposeful, you thought, that Kiba answered the door shirtless. He must know how good he looked; anyone with eyes could see that Kiba was easily one of the hottest guys in the village. With his tan skin, those wild brunette locks, and the taunt muscles in his biceps--not to mention the washboard abs. Kiba belonged on the cover of a magazine.

Better seen and not heard.

“Listen, can I please just get my things? Then I’ll be out of your hair and we can part ways forever.” You ran your fingers through your hair, trying to look through him rather than straight at him. He could be… distracting, and he knew it. This was just another part of his plan to drive you crazy. One last “fuck you” before you left.

“What’s the hurry?” Kiba asked you, yawning boredly. “You that ready to be done with me?” A faux pout painted itself on his lips as he did his best to look hurt, but you knew better. Kiba didn’t have a sensitive bone in his body.

With a sigh, you shook your head. “I have a boyfriend to get home to, actually.” You told him. It hadn’t been two weeks after your breakup that rumors began to fly about Kiba and Ino hooking up in the training grounds. Well two could play at that game, you’d decided. You had only cried for a day before you picked yourself up and found your rebound. The cute owner of the new gyoza shop in town was the perfect person to get your mind off your sleeze ball of an ex boyfriend. He was nice enough, didn’t hurt to look at, and most importantly, was the complete opposite of Kiba. 

Kiba snickered in response, not looking impressed. “Right, dumpling boy. How is Prince Charming? Better run along, wouldn’t want to miss that sweet scent of meat and sweat.” He gave you a pointed, smug look. 

“Better than smelling like dog and sweat.”

You could tell from the look on Kiba’s face that the insult had hit its mark. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw flexed, and you knew he was trying not to snap at you. 

The Inuzuka clan was known for their closeness with their canine companions, but you knew for a fact that Kiba hated being compared to an animal. He’d heard the jokes one to many times in your genin days, and now it was a sore spot for him. 

It was why you said it. Now it was your turn to smirk, pleased that you’d gained the upper hand. 

“Seriously, nothing was a bigger turn off than having you on top of me and smelling Akamaru,” you taunt. “The smell was bad enough, but then you would paw at me like a dog, too.”

His eyebrow was twitching, the anger plain on his face though he was doing his best to play cool. “I don’t remember hearing any complaints before,” Kiba shot back. “Matter of fact, I remember you absolutely begging me not to stop, to go harder even.”

You could feel your cheeks start to burn, remembering that, yeah, you definitely used to beg him for more. Sex with Kiba was one of the things you missed the most. But you weren’t about to let him know that. 

“Obviously I said those things,” you shrugged. “You were my boyfriend. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings. What was I supposed to say? That I almost fell asleep everytime you were inside of me?”

“Fat chance!” Kiba shot back immediately, pushing off the door frame and stalking closer to you. “Can’t fake the way you would gush around my cock, sweetheart.”

If you weren’t blushing before, you certainly were now. Your lips parted instinctively, and it took everything in you to bite back a moan just thinking about it. 

You straightened, trying to compose yourself. You weren’t going to let Kiba get the best of you this time. 

“Whatever. I don’t even know why I’m bothering to sit here and argue with you about it when I could just go be with someone who can actually make me cum. In fact, I’m gonna go find him right now.”

You turned your back to Kiba, making a move to leave before you felt him grab your arm and spin you back around to face him. “Wanna run that by me again?” He hissed. 

There was fire in his eyes, and you didn’t think you’d ever seen him so angry before. You could practically feel it radiating off of him, and it made you smirk, knowing that you had gotten him so worked up. 

“You heard me.” You told him slowly. “I said that ‘gyoza’ boy fucks me way better than you ever did.”

You weren’t sure what you were really expecting. Maybe for him to yell, punch a wall even. Anything other than what he ended up doing. 

His grip on your arm tightened as he yanked you towards him. A small squeal left your mouth as you stumbled into his arms. 

He leaned in close to you, so close your noses almost touched. Through gritted teeth, he said, “You’re gonna eat those words.”

In a moment, Kiba had you in his arms, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carried you into his house. 

“K-Kiba, wait!” You protested in surprise. 

“Too late for apologies now, darling.” Kiba told you as he entered the bedroom, tossing you back on his bed. You landed with a squeak, looking up at him in shock. You’d never seen him like this before. 

Kiba chuckled darkly as he stared down at you, hands moving to unbutton his pants, dropping them down his legs. You could see his erection straining under his boxers, a small wet spot where precum was forming at the tip. He palmed himself as he stared at you expectantly, an eyebrow raised. 

“Don’t just lay there looking all helpless. You know what to do,”

God he was so arrogant, so presumptuous, so annoying! And so fucking hot. You found yourself crawling off the bed, moving down to your knees in front of him as you began to mouth at him over the fabric. Kiba snickered, feeling victorious. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered before winding his hands in your hair. 

Using that hold, he moved your head back and forth, forcing your open mouth to rub over his entire length. There was a sane part of you somewhere that was livid you had given in so easily, but that part was buried away deep. 

Kiba liked the power he had over you, the fact that you would drop to your knees in front of him so willingly. He licked his lips, looking very much like a predator sizing up its prey. 

Finally, he released his grip in your hair, moving to sit on the bed. “Strip,” he commanded, and you found your fingers had a mind of their own, moving to pull your shirt over your head.

Kiba’s eyes were trained on you, watching as you pulled the clothes from your body. “You talk a lot of shit for a girl so willing to get naked for me,” Kiba taunted you. “Maybe I need to punish you, put you in your place for that?” 

Standing in front of him nude as he teased you made you flush over. You wanted to protest, but he grabbed your hand, pulling you to him. His fingers ran over your folds, finding that you were already wet. He grinned at you. “Already, huh?” He let you go to pull his boxers off, exposing his hard cock completely. Your eyes were trained on his thick girth, your mouth watering. It’d been too long since you last had him inside of you. 

Kiba reached out again, hands twisting in your hair. “Sit on it.” He commanded. You tore your eyes away from his cock to look him in the eye. 

“But Kiba. I’m not—“ he cut you off with a yank on your hair. 

“You’re wet enough already. I know you can take it.” A cruel smile tugged at the corner of his lips, making you drip in arousal even more. 

Obediently, you crawled onto his lap, positioning yourself over his length, already shaking in anticipation. Kiba let go of your hair to run his thumb over your parted lips. Then, before you could protest, his hands were on your shoulders, and he was shoving you down onto his fat cock as his hips thrusted up to meet yours. 

“Kiba!” You squealed, tossing your head back as he bottomed out inside of you, filling you up completely. The burn from him shoving himself into your unprepared arousal felt so good; the perfect mix of pain and pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Take it.” He commanded, pressing your head down to his shoulder as his other hand gripped your hips tightly, enough to bruise. He held you in place, hovering over him as he began to thrust inside of you relentlessly, groaning in pleasure at the way you took his cock so well.

“Please, Kiba,” you whined, your fingers gripping into his shoulders as he pounded into your hole. It was simultaneously too much and not enough. Kiba only laughed cruelly in your ear.

The noise infuriated you, pulling you from your haze just enough. You pulled your head back from his shoulder, glaring at him. “Don’t get so cocky,” you spat at him, doing your best to keep your voice even as he continued pressing his dick inside of you. “I’m begging for you to do something that will actually make me feel good.”

The words had barely left your mouth before you were being lifted up. Kiba dropped you on his cock again, holding you against him as he carried you. Your back hit the wall roughly, causing a gasp to leave your mouth. Kiba’s hand trailed up your neck before his fingers gripped your throat. He leaned in close to you again, his lips brushing barely brushing against yours. “You want to act like a little slut? Fine, I’ll treat you like one.”

You could only cry out as he began to fuck himself into you with a renewed vigor, his hand still clasped around you throat. “God, this hole was just begging for my cock, wasn’t it?” He hissed. When you didn’t respond, he squeezed his fingers tighter. “I asked you a question!”

“Yes!” You gasped out, clawing at his back. You were drowning in pleasure as Kiba battered your gspot over and over again, your legs not even able to wrap themselves around him. “Yes, Kiba. Please fuck me! Give me what I deserve!” You begged.

You screamed out again when Kiba’s teeth sunk into your clavicle, his canines breaking the skin. The throbbing pain just made you squeeze tighter around him, causing him to groan out.

“Fuck, you love this, don’t you?” He asked as he pounded inside of you. “You love being fucked by my big cock while your little boyfriend sits at home waiting for you. You’re gonna go home to him dripping with my load.”

He grabbed one of your kicking legs, lifting it up over his shoulder, letting him reach into you deeper. Your eyes rolled back into your head, your mouth open in a silent scream. 

“I can feel the way your little cunt is fluttering around me,” He goaded. “I know what that means. You gonna squirt baby? You wanna gush around my cock for old times sake?” 

You were practically sobbing now, overwhelmed by his dick and the dirty words tumbling from his mouth. “Kiba, kiba please…” You cried. 

“Tears, huh?” Kiba reached up, wiping them from your cheek with his thumb and bringing it up to his tongue. “Is it that good baby?”

You nodded furiously, eyes screwed shut as your head pressed against his shoulder. “Do it then,” Kiba whispered in your ear, teething at the lobe. He pulled his hand from your throat to brace himself against the wall, thrusting harder and harder. “Cum around my cock. I want to feel it.”

You felt the pressure building up, your stomach coiling in pleasure. It only took a few more thrusts before you were screaming Kiba’s name, cumming violently around him. You squirted, liquid gushing from your pussy, causing an salacious squelching as he continued to press himself in and out of you.

“That’s it baby. Let it out,” Kiba breathed, keeping his pace. It was quickly all too much for you, overwhelming to the point of pain. 

“K-kiba,” you hiccuped. “P-please, i can’t…” 

“You can, baby. You’re gonna.”

And you’re crying, you’re overstimulated, and you’re pretty sure Kiba is saying something but you have no clue what. All you know is he’s still moving inside you insistently, and it feels like you’re still cuming.

You feel him pull you away from the wall, laying you back on the bed, and now both of your legs are over his shoulder. Kiba practically folds you in half as he fucks you on his cock, and now his finger is pinching your nipple. You think you hear him mutter something--“How’s this for pawing at you”--but you can barely hear past the blood rushing in your ears.

You feel your cunt tightening around Kiba again and he curses and then his lips are smashed against yours, swallowing your cries as you drown in the pleasure. You’re begging, you don’t know if you want him to stop or keep going, but it doesn’t matter because he’s telling you he’s not gonna stop, not yet. He’s gonna fuck you as long as it takes for you to remember who you belong to.

You don’t know how many times you’ve cum by the time you hear him tell you he’s close. Kiba says he’s gonna fill you up, fuck his cum into you until you can taste it and he does, unloading inside your worn pussy as he bottoms out inside of you completey. You can feel his cock twitching as spurt after spurt of cum shoots inside of you.

He collapses on top of you then, almost as spent as you are, keeping his dick inside of your spent cunt as it softens. He’s placing light kisses over your neck as your breath finally comes back to you. You blink up at Kiba through blurry eyes as he props himself up, wiping the tears from your cheek. He gives you a wolfish grin, hands running gently down your body. 

“You still want me to give you back your shit?’

[thesightstoshowyou]

Timing is Everything

Jesse Cromeans x F Reader x Asa Emory (NSFW)

Summary: Trapped between a predator and a hard place.

Warnings: All the warnings! Dubcon/noncon, daddy kink, Dominant Asa, possessive Asa, creampie(s), anal play, heavy degradation, slapping, manipulation, knife use, blood, torture, “aftercare.” Safe word? What’s that?

 ~~

             When the penthouse elevator dings, you think it’s Asa. It’s after five, Asa’s typical time to return home and recharge before heading out into the night. Jesse’s been gone for days to who knows where, but this isn’t unusual.

             So, when you peek under the cabinets from your spot near the stove and see soft lights glinting off chrome, you’re surprised. He strips out of his black suit jacket, kicking off his boots as he goes. You frown at the blood that drips off the soles onto clean marble. Asa’s going to be pissed.

             But, maybe that’s the point.

             “Hey, you. Back already?” you ask casually as Jesse stalks behind the counter. He drags his fingers leisurely along the sleek granite as he strolls over to you. There’s promise in the way his hips sway as he approaches, a hint of impatience in his swagger. Immediately, you’re on edge.

             Uneasy, you meet his shadowed gaze as well as you can through the darkened eyeholes of his mask. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause, just keeps slowly pressuring you until you’re backed against the sink. You gulp when his arm slides around your waist, one huge hand grabbing a handful of your ass.

             “Asa’s not here—

             Jesse claps a hand over your mouth and shakes his head. He bends down to your level, nudges your cheek with the chilly teeth of his mask. The hand on your ass disappears, resurfaces clutching one of those heinous blades. Dried blood flecks off the handle as he twists it, brings cold steel under your chin.

             You’re afraid, yes, but not of the knife. Asa doesn’t like Jesse to touch you if he’s not there. The Collector is the sole orchestrater of your pleasure and pain, and Chromeskull is an extension of Asa’s knife. Usually, Jesse is more than happy to take instruction on how best to pull you apart and put you back together.

             Usually.

             Not tonight, apparently. The last time this had happened, you hadn’t been able to walk for a week. You wonder what Asa said to Jesse to set him off.

             “Daddy, please,” you mumble behind his hand, hoping the pet name will give him pause. Jesse’s gaze snaps back to yours. He brings the knife in front of your face and shakes it back and forth. ‘No, no, no, little girl,’ it says with its movement. You plead with your eyes and Jesse’s shoulders shake in silent laughter. He’s enjoying the way your lips tremble in trepidation.

             Jesse seizes you around the waist, tosses you over his shoulder, saunters to the bedroom. You let yourself be towed, racing mind wondering what the hell you’re going to tell Asa when he inevitably walks in on the both of you. You nearly scoff out loud; as if Asa’s going to let you speak. You’re so, so fucked.

             Literally.

             When Asa does finally return home, you don’t hear him enter. The only things you can hear are the rustling of bedsheets in your ear, the fervent slap of skin on skin, and your muffled groans and screams. Jesse has your cheek smashed into the mattress, drooling mouth stuffed with your panties, arms pinned behind your back, two, thick fingers speared into your ass, and your hips in the air as he pummels your sore cunt. No hole left unfilled.

             You’re dripping cum and your own fluids, the sheets a wet mess beneath you. Whatever Asa said to him, it really, really set him off. Deliriously, you wonder if you’ve ever seen him so pent up.

             You yelp around the underwear between your teeth when Jesse tugs his fingers from your ass. His hand flies to your hair, gripping your messy locks and turning your head the other direction so you’re looking at the bedroom doorway. Your eyes widen in horror when you see Asa leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, dark eyes intently focused on the arch of your back.

            Behind you, Jesse hisses and hilts himself, spilling another load of sticky cum into your abused cunt. You grunt and wriggle against the hand keeping your arms pinned. He’d timed that perfectly, hadn’t he?

            Deliberately, Asa pulls a pair of black, nitrile gloves from his back pocket. He snaps them on, one at a time, intertwining his fingers to achieve the snuggest fit. Your chest heaves, your limbs trembling at the methodical way he flicks open the sheath on his hip and produces a slim knife, the blade glinting maliciously in the low light.

            Jesse slips from your cunt with a sigh, releases your arms, crawls up beside you so he’s resting against the headboard. You flop over, yank the panties from your mouth, push to your knees with shaking arms, drop your chin to your chest submissively.

            What do you say? He’ll hurt you more if you talk out of turn. Fuck, this isn’t fair.

            Jesse will emerge from this ordeal unscathed. He’d never allow Asa to punish him, no, not without a bloody, vicious fight. That’s not what this twisted relationship is about, but Asa will have to punish someone.

            And that someone is you.

            A normal relationship would have a predetermined word, a phrase, a hand signal, something that would bring this nightmare to an end, but when you’re the obsession of both the Collector and Chromeskull, there is no safe word. There is pain and there is pleasure and no relief from either, ever.

            Gloved fingers brush your cheek, grip your chin and tilt your head so your eyes meet black. His face is blank, utterly expressionless, but this is when he is most dangerous. You don’t know what he’s planning. Again, you beg with your eyes, hope he’ll take pity on you. There was nothing you could do to stop Jesse, he must know this.

             Asa hums thoughtfully, pulls down your bottom lip with his thumb, “I know this wasn’t your idea, Cricket.” He shoots Jesse a petulant glare and the bed wobbles under you with what you can only assume is more unheard laugher. Your heart lifts slightly. Could you be this lucky…?

             His eyes return to yours and you blink until tears slips down your face. Instantly, your stomach plummets and you gasp in shock when he delivers a stinging slap to your cheek. You whimper, clutching your face and shuddering when he sighs heavily.

             “Unfortunately, that’s not enough to save you, silly girl. If you weren’t such a desperate whore, he wouldn’t have broken my rules, would he?” You visibly tremble, nod your head, because what else can you do now? Submit, take the punishment like an obedient pet, learn to run faster than Jesse.

             “On your back.” Instantly you fall back. You try not to glare up at Jesse when he pulls your head into his lap, fingers carding through your sweaty hair in mock sympathy.

             “Look at me.” You do, “How many times did he cum? Tell the truth, Cricket or I. Will. Hurt. You.”

             “F-Four, Sir,” you stammer, your heart fluttering in your chest like a panicked bird. Asa’s eyes flick to Jesse’s and the skull mask nods once in affirmation.

             “Four? Christ, Jesse,” Asa murmurs with a chuckle, that ominous rumble that never fails to send a thrill of fear through your bloodstream. Jesse shrugs and motions to your naked body as though that should explain everything. Asa shakes his head and addresses you, “Four cuts for the four times you let him defile my cunt. Understand? Speak.”

             “Y-Yes, Sir,” you whisper, bracing for the bite of steel. Asa spreads your thighs wide, pushes your knees to your chest. The point of the knife trails down the inside of your knee, comes to rest on the soft flesh of your inner thigh. Your gasping breaths are so loud they echo off the high ceiling. You grit your teeth, hiss when Asa drags the blade along your thigh, your dermis parting under steel and spilling crimson onto the bedsheets.

             “Count,” he orders.

             “One,” you snivel, hands fisting the sheets as blinding, brilliant agony sears through your leg. The second cut makes you groan through clenched teeth. Your muscles pull taut as you desperately try to remain still.

             “T-Two.” Asa moves to your other leg. These are going to scar so bad-no don’t think about it—

             “Three!” you scream, a high wail that Jesse immediately muffles with his fingers. One more, one more, you can do it, one—

             “F-F-Four,” you sob around the digits in your mouth. Spit drips past your lips as Jesse removes his fingers and smears the saliva across your quivering lips. The clink of a belt buckle and the drag of a zipper reaches your ears. You gasp, meet Asa’s heated gaze. His predatory gaze is fixed on the way your blood drips down your thighs and mixes with the cum leaking from your puffy slit.

             You speak without thinking, too desperate to be given a break, “P-Please—

             He’s lightning fast, shocking you with his speed more than how roughly he grips your jaw. He spits, “I don’t remember giving you permission to speak.” You scream again when he slams into your aching cunt, burying his cock into slick, cum drenched muscles. The pants that hang off his hips catch on your lacerations, agonizingly irritate your throbbing flesh

             “Anything going on in that empty head?” SLAP, “Answer me, slut.”

             “Y-Yes—

             SLAP

             “’No’ is the word you were looking for.”

             “N-No, Sir—

             SLAP

             “Shut. Up. If I wanted to hear your simpering voice, I would tell you to, ‘Speak.’ Did I say that?” Furiously you shake your head, anything to get him to stop smacking your burning cheeks. His voice drops to a low purr and he leans over you to murmur, “That’s right. I didn’t. Open your mouth.” Immediately your jaw falls open, “Jesse, give the little whore something to do with that disobedient tongue.”

            Three of Jesse’s fingers return to your mouth and languidly count your teeth. His other hand falls to his half hard cock, fist rolling up his girth until he’s fully erect. How he can have the stamina is beyond you, but that thought goes as quickly as it comes when Asa’s fingers find your swollen clit.

            You twitch and keen, bewildering pressure building in your gut with every stroke of his deft fingers. How? How does he have the uncanny ability to bring you to the edge even after everything he’s done?

            “Jesse, take your fingers out. Cricket, you are going to cum for me. Me. As it should always be. Speak.”

            “Ye-Yes, Sir, yes, yes, please, please, I want to—

            “I want to hear my name when you cum. Speak.”

            “Yes, Sir, yes, I-I will, I w-will, fuck, fuck, I-I-I—

            “Cum, now, do it, cum for me.”

            “ASA!” Despite the pain ravaging your inner thighs, you bring your hips up to meet his, muscles clenching, pressure in your belly releasing in a flurry of wet heat and rolling pleasure. Asa grunts, thrusts, exhales forcefully, buries his cock in your heat to paint your insides with his own release. Distantly, you hear Jesse hiss through his teeth, see him spill into his fist out of the corner of your eye.

            Asa’s body heat disappears from between your legs. You let them fall to the bed, boneless, useless, ready to let unconsciousness claim you then and there, but he returns a moment later with a warm, wet cloth, antibacterial ointment, gauze, and bandages. Meticulously, he cleans the wounds he inflicted, making sure the dressings are well secured before climbing into bed. You crawl into his open arms, turning away from Jesse and burying your face into the crook of Asa’s warm neck.

            Asa waits until your chest rises and falls rhythmically before signing to Jesse, ‘Four times? Seriously?’

            Jesse shrugs again, lifting his hands and signing, ‘Jealous?’ Asa snorts.

            ‘I’m not the one that’s going to be in the doghouse.’

            ‘She’ll get over it.’ Jesse motions to your bandaged thighs, ‘Those are going to scar up good and pretty.’ Asa lets a smirk pull at the corner of his mouth.

            ‘That was the intent. You timed that last one perfectly, by the way.’ Jesse’s shoulders shake again at that.

            ‘Honestly, I got lucky. I was so fucking close for a good ten minutes before you walked in. Took your sweet time.’

            ‘Had to be sure you wore her out. She doesn’t make mistakes when she’s alert.’ Asa winks and Jesse shakes his head, rolling onto his side.

            ‘Sadist.’

            ‘Pot, meet kettle.’

            ‘Touché.’

[weirdlittlecorner]

Lin Kuei Hospitality: Sektor

Notes: nsfw, 18+, rough, dominant MC

Plot: Sektor gets on a lot of people's nerves. Nothing a little cloth can't fix

Tags: @lilliannmac @onesillybeach @icy-spicy

__

It was an easy choice. Once the Grandmaster had given you the go-ahead to pick your gift, your eyes instantly settled on the most curious of the men. The one who took to copying the monarch himself. You were attracted to that long, black hair and the bulging muscles. But what really solidified your choice was that face of his. Or, rather, the expression on it. The other men had kept their expressions neutral, their gazes fixated ahead of them as you made your rounds. But when you had passed over the man in red, he took it as an invitation to conduct an exam of his own. His brown eyes trailed you when you came near as if you were a gift for him. And that tiny smirk that he gave you didn’t help his case, either.

A spark of feistiness flared within you as you returned the judgemental gaze, “I suppose you’ll do,” You snapped.

The tension in the room was tangible. The others were amused by your standoff with who you would soon come to find out was the spoiled brat of the clan. Your target huffed, turning toward the Grandmaster as if seeking assistance. But he was only met with a stern warning from the older man, “Miss L/n is our guest. You will not disappoint me, Sektor,”

It was hard to keep a straight face as the overgrown child- Sektor- crumbled under the Grandmaster’s words, “Of course not, Father,” Father? It all made sense now. The similar clothing, and more notably, the arrogance. Being the child of the closest thing to royalty would surely go to anyone’s head. He clearly had some sort of attitude problem and needed a lesson in humility. You would happily oblige.

After the impromptu scolding, the younger man turned his attention back to you. Without another complaint, he separated from his fellow assassins in favor of following you out of the throne room.

--

“You’re getting on my nerves already. I’d like you better if you just shut your mouth,” You snapped, your teeth grinding in annoyance. In the span of ten minutes, Sektor had already managed to push all your buttons. And not in a good way.

“I will do nothing of the sort,” He snapped back without hesitation. You were starting to question your decision and wondered if it was too late to exchange the man. No, you couldn’t do that, as you didn’t want to look ungrateful. Especially not when it was the Grandmaster’s own son. This was a strange situation already; it would be best not to make it worse.

So you settled on one more attempt at reasoning with the clan’s golden child, “Try. It might do you some good,” This was supposed to be pleasurable for you, after all. It was silent for a moment, and you grew smug at the fact that the man hadn’t been able to come up with a witty response. But while you did expect some type of attitude, you hadn’t expected what the man in question actually said next.

“Make me.”

Wait-... What? That took you aback, and your resolve momentarily crumbled as you looked at him. And he looked dead serious, too...

Well, you had promised yourself that you would correct that attitude of his.

Positioning yourself behind him, you untied the f/c sash that secured your tunic, “What are you-” But you had already placed the fabric over his mouth, tying it securely at the back of his head. That was much better. He grew sexier now that he was silent. Now that you didn’t have to listen to his sarcastic droning, you could actually get on to using your present. Proud of your work, you walked back around to face the man.

Upon feeling your form looming over him, Sektor sunk down to his knees, hands clasped behind his back. A h/c brow arched in surprise, but soon your expression turned to one of mischief. He must’ve been partial to being submissive. The thought intrigued you, to say the least. While having been on top a few times in previous experiences, you had never actually dominated your partner. But what better time to try it out than now? Especially on someone as arrogant as the Grandmaster’s son. He needed to be taken down a notch. Or two.

“You like it when a woman is in control, don’t you?” You asked rhetorically, to which he nodded, his brown eyes boring into your e/c ones. There was no question that you could have some fun with this. Taking hold of the red sash on his uniform, you snatched it off of his waist before making your way to his backside once more. With a fluid motion, you looped it around his wrists twice before tying it. He flexed his forearms in response, testing the resistance of his bondage, to which you clucked, “You’re not escaping that easily,” Though you had tied it gently enough for him to break free should he need to. But for all intents and purposes, he was helpless. Completely at your disposal. Ready for anything and everything you had in mind.

The raw, devious power surged through you so beautifully. And submissiveness looked equally enticing on Sektor. Since he was incapacitated, you took the liberty of peeling off his armor for him. It took a bit longer than you had expected to get through all of the various knots and clasps, but that was no problem. Every second was blissful agony for the man who was trapped under your touch. But eventually, your gift was unwrapped, save for his ivory undergarments. By the tenting in the fabric, he was already ready for you. But there would be none of that. Not anytime soon, anyway.

A maniacal giggle made its way past your lips as you reached around his head. With a loud snap, the red tie that was holding his long hair in place was between your fingers. You waved it in front of him teasingly before pushing the loose hair out of his eyes, “Lay down,” Your voice was a soft, but harsh whisper.

At your command, the Grandmaster’s son swung his knees out from under him and lowered his muscular back onto the cold marble floor. He winced as the cold penetrated his skin, but he made no effort to get up. Not when he was consumed by the overwhelming desire to be obedient for his mistress. Who, had he been able to speak, would have been showered in praises. You were easily one of the most beautiful women he had bedded. Being the chosen child had its perks, but it also had its drawbacks; one being that he could never explore his desire for domination. It would be too embarrassing if he, the next Grandmaster, were found under a woman. Or, one of the Lin Kuei women, anyway. But you were an outsider. Someone who passed through twice a year at most. There was no shame in this. Only pleasure as you stripped down to your f/c undergarments, taking care to leave your boots on. It fit the aesthetic, after all.

“You have a sharp tongue for someone who’s supposed to be a disciplined assassin,” You chided, your hands positioning themselves on your hips as you stood over him, your boots dangerously close to his face, “But you know what? I think we can put it to better use,” Sektor didn’t have time to consider your words before you unceremoniously squatted, the satin fabric of your underwear meeting the resistant cloth of your makeshift gag.

With an exaggerated sigh, you settled in on your new chair, your boots resting easily on either side of his head. This was much better. No noise and the pleasure of having your sex serviced. Well, not so much the second part as Sektor had a gag in place that prevented the latter. Though you did have to say that seeing him grow frustrated at his bondage was pleasurable in its own right. You sat like this for a few moments, basking in the feeling of control, until you felt a small vibration against your clothed sex.

“What was that? ‘Take the gag off’? And my panties?” You repeated, to which he nodded desperately. Another triumphant laugh rippled through your chest. As if you would give the spoiled brat what he wanted. That would be counterintuitive on your part. E/c irises clouded over as you looked down at your whining subject, “No. You haven’t earned the right to taste me,”

But that didn’t stop him from trying, much to your amusement. Sektor continued to strain against the gag, trying to do something; anything. His full beard provided some nice friction though, and you almost considered giving in and letting him eat you out. Almost, “Now look at me,” A s/c hand reached out and grabbed his chin, forcing him to give you his undivided attention. His dark pupils dilated in excitement at your roughness, “You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” You cooed, being rewarded by another needy jerk of his head.

“Good,” H/t, h/c locks bobbed as you nodded your head in satisfaction. In fact, you were so pleased with his broken obedience that you resumed a squatting position, taking the weight off of his face momentarily. You reached down and pulled the gag free, letting it bunch around his neck instead. Sektor was only allowed a second to breathe through his mouth before your sex pressed against it once more.

But there were no complaints from the brat, only gratitude as his tongue traced the outline of your folds, “Thank you, Mistress L/n,” He mumbled as he pressed a soft kiss to your clit. You sighed, rocking your hips a bit to catch some of the friction from his beard scratching your thighs.

This felt very, very good. So good that you almost considered dropping your facade and letting yourself fully enjoy the man’s mouth. But where was the fun in that? As far as you were concerned, he was still a jerk. A whiny, beautifully submissive, brat that still hadn’t learned his lesson. Tucking your knees to your chest, you pulled yourself into a standing position, much to the disappointment of your submissive.

“Aw, don’t pout. I don’t like pouting,” Your stern voice commanded, causing Sektor to amend his expression immediately. Basking in the high of your authority, you shifted your attention to his lower half. Saying that the man was weeping for attention was an understatement as you rubbed his aching erection through the cloth. Curious, you bent over and removed his hard length from his undershorts. You gave him a sly smile as your nimble fingers worked him, “I’m surprised that you’ve actually managed to impress me,” He merely moaned in response as your stroking got faster, “Please,” His voice, hoarse from the gag, pleaded for your audience, “Please ride my cock, Mistress. I want to make you cum,” He begged while you pursed your lips, considering the proposition.

The ache in your stomach had only grown more prominent throughout your teasing. And coupled with the stimulation from Sektor’s mouth, you were beyond wet enough for intercourse. Sighing, “Very well. You’ve been a good boy so far,” Your hand ceased its movement in favor of hooking itself inside your panties along with the other. Straightening up, you pulled the silk down, stepping out of the garment to free your ankles, “I’ll give you what you want; on one condition. No thrusting,” He gave a weak nod in agreement.

Satisfied with his obedience once more, you allowed yourself to squat over him, this time over his erect dick. Once he was lined up, you began sinking down, allowing him to enter you at the most agonizingly slow rate. Only when you were comfortable did you begin moving. And it felt damn good. Overcome with desire, you allowed yourself to ride him at an excruciating pace, momentarily forgetting your cool, stone demeanor. A moan akin to a wind-chime clawed its way out of your throat as your hand found its way to your clit. You rubbed furiously while your other hand tangled itself in that long black hair, tugging it roughly. He let out a guttural sound at the lovely pain you were causing him, but he kept his promise of not thrusting into you despite an overwhelming desire to. Though that didn’t stop you from eventually changing your own rule, overcome by the pleasure.

“Fuck me. Make me cum,” You demanded, amending your previous instruction. Sektor knew better than to question your orders, his only focus on doing just what you had asked. He was able to flip you over with his strong hips despite his hands still being tied behind his back. Once you were comfortable, he wasted no time snapping his hips into yours as fast as he could. His pace was relentless, causing your toes to curl and stars to enter your vision as he rubbed against your precious spot. Your fingers bunched his loose hair up, pulling as hard as humanly possible as you met an intense climax. Shaking, your breathing grew even more ragged as the heat ravished your body. All of your neurons felt as if they were on fire as you came.

His hips slowed as the last of your orgasm made its way through you, stopping once your hand detangled itself from his black locks and fell limp across your ribs. With a tired smile, your eyes focused on him once more, “I will let you cum as a reward for being obedient,” Just not inside of you. He wasn’t that good. But he was excited nonetheless. Proud that he had lived up to your expectations. His cock exited your trembling pussy, saturated in your orgasm. When your breathing eventually slowed, you slowly shifted to sit on your knees, your hand replacing itself on his shaft.

Your hand stroked him as fast as you could manage while he whimpered in pleasure. It didn’t take long before his seed erupted from the tip of his cock, effectively coating your hand and splattering on his abs. Looking down at the mess, Sektor grew sheepish as the post-orgasm clarity seeped in. You had definitely shown him; maybe he should learn to be more humble. Or maybe he would be just as much of an asshole the next time you visited so you could teach him another lesson, “Thank you,” He managed to get out once he caught his breath.

You hated to say it, but Sektor had been right. He sure didn’t disappoint the Grandmaster.

“You’re welcome. Now go get a towel so you can clean up your mess.”

[sairenharia]

Sentimonster Adrien Theory 2

Spoilers for all of Season 4 as of 8/31/21

For my previous thoughts, and the validity of at least SOMEONE on the cast being a Sentimonster, refer to: Here

As a note, my previous theory was written after Ladybug and BEFORE Chat Blanc, and Felix. I will be retreading ground for Adrien specifically, but basic belief in there being a sentimonster is there.

Something I just want to say, I don’t think Adrien being a Sentimonster negates the abuse Gabriel inflicted on him. What it does is explain why GABRIEL is able to justify it, but seeing where someone is coming from does not excuse them of their actions. Gabriel has to repent. The fact is Adrien is a person even if Senti!Adrien is true, and that doesn’t change just because he’s not human. Treating someone who can think and feel cruelly is never a good thing.

That being said, evidence and why I think Adrien really might not be human.

A: The Wish

We know Emilie is in the basement. She is in some kind of stasis. We know the Wish involves her.

We do not know Gabriel’s wish. We very deliberately do not know Gabriel’s wish, because we, the audience, hear him talk about it a lot, but only in vague terms. He wants his wish, he wants to change time, he wants to achieve a goal.

But he’s never said he wants to wake Emilie up, fix her, bring her back. He wants to do something for her sake, but its not the most obvious thing.

So its NOT the most obvious thing. There is no reason to be vague about this unless its to elude to a deeper meaning. The obvious wish is too obvious to be obtuse.

And more importantly, we know Emilie and Gabriel wanted something fifteen years ago thanks to the Shanghai special. Something to do with the human virtues, potentially.

We know Marinette is fourteen now. So Adrien’s birthday in Bubbler was his fourteenth birthday. 

The want for something started around the time Adrien should have been conceived.

B: Ask for Forgiveness, not Permission.

Adrien doesn’t like to ask his father for things. We see this over and over again with him sneaking out to things like the Startrain, or say he’s going to fencing with Kagami, and other excuses. Sometimes he does try to do things in the straight forward way, but when there are things he really wants to go to, things he doesn’t want to have to accept a no, he sneaks out.

Like the class trip. Like going to see his mother’s movie.

And when Adrien is told directly ‘no,’ he will often listen. For Adrien. Chat Noir, however, is a different entity, and he often uses it for a reason for why he can go out. Chat can, Adrien can’t.

To date, the only time Adrien has gone against a direct order from Gabriel is in regards to going to school.

And Chat Blanc.

I’ll get to Chat Blanc.

Adrien was told he could not attend school, and he accepted that. Until he became Chat Noir and only then did he rebel. Interestingly, when he was pulled from school after the book incident, he didn’t plan to just run away again. We know he was willing to disobey to attend, so why did the ban take this time?

Perhaps because Gabriel made it a thing that was allowed. It wasn’t an outright rebellion, it was a thing earned and then lost.

C: What Is The Amok?

Its the rings.

Not ring.

Its BOTH RINGS.

Which may or may not be magic items in of themselves, but there is not enough information for that.

When Gabriel transforms, there is a distinctive beep. When we first see the basement, we hear that beep again. We we see the rings in Felix, we hear that beep yet again. This beep is a sound cue of significance in regards to Gabriel and Emilie.

And here is the thing. If Adrien is a Sentimonster, he’s meant to be their child. Which comes into some questionable things, ethically speaking, for his free will. They don’t want Adrien to know he’s a Sentimonster. They could tell him to always hold onto his Amok, but he’s the son of very wealthy people. Even without being a model, there is every chance his Amok could be stolen because he’d be a target for theft.

But just having the Amok sitting somewhere is dangerous.

And what if it gets broken?

The only way to keep Adrien’s Amok safe is for one of his parents to have it....or both.

Crocoduel has shown us an item can be Akumatized and taken apart at the moment of enchantment and exist as two separate things. And a bonus, the item has to be put together and THEN broken to break the magic.

And here are the twin rings that are perfect copies of each other and get clean together really nice and maybe they attach a little bit? Having two rings stay together that well while cleaning is quite the party trick if there isn’t something to that. But visually speaking, it tells us, the audience, these are two halves of the same whole.

And it allows a little bit in the form of free will. Because if someone does not possess BOTH rings, they cannot control Adrien completely. Its still incredibly hard for Adrien to resist, but he IS capable of disagreeing at the very least.

Of course, when combined with the home atmosphere, his ability to resist doesn’t account for much without extreme circumstances, but still.

We can see this with Sentibubbler. The moment Ladybug had the coffee cup, he changed tracks without a sign of hesitation or confusion. Because he just had the one item. Even though Ladybug was ordering him with more autonomy then Shadow Moth. (I will also get into that.)

This is also why in Felix, Gabriel immediately goes to retrieve Emilie’s ring to wear. Sure, accusing Felix of stealing the ring gets into a whole legal lawsuit that makes it complicated and would make it difficult to retrieve the ring. Its a whole hassle, but it doesn’t explain why he needs to wear Emilie’s ring.

Except Felix has the ring that is one half of Adrien’s Amok.

Gabriel HAS to wear the ring, because Emilie cannot influence Adrien in any way, but Felix can. Gabriel has to balance out whatever Felix may do to Adrien, so he takes his wife ring. And its why he can’t get into the legal battle because he has to wear the ring to protect ADRIEN, and if they see him with the ring, there will be questions he can’t answer.

This also may explain Gabriel seems even more harsh to Adrien after Emilie’s disappearance despite some oddities.

Adrien wasn’t allowed to go to school while Emilie was around. But Gabriel granted it. When Adrien wants for things he wasn’t allowed before and is willing to fight for it, Gabriel grants it.

I don’t think Gabriel’s authoritative nature has truly changed that much. I think what changed was Adrien’s PERSPECTIVE of it. Because before, Emilie was a constant counter to his need to obey. Now he doesn’t have that, so being told what to do feels more absolute. I think the thing that truly changed was how much time and affection Gabriel was willing to show Adrien in his pain, not how much he restricted him.

Which still ain’t great.

Though that is a thought. Maybe Gabriel avoids Adrien because he knows he’s a commanding sort and he’s trying to not do overly much. Which is why most of his time around Adrien is when he can critique him, because it gives him a focus for orders? It would be a twist.

D: What About Chat Blanc? Or rather, what about Plagg.

So I’ve heard people say Chat Blanc disproves this theory because that is certainly a time to command Adrien to obey with his Amok! Which true, except for two things.

One, the end of Felix has little reason to change in the new timeline. Adrien and Marinette dated for at least a little while which was shortly before Felix happened. Felix still visited.

What might have changed was what kind of terrorizing Felix did on Adrien.

What has no reason to change is Felix stealing the ring.

Which means Gabriel DIDN’T have the means to absolutely command Adrien to do anything, we only had half the Amok.

And the fact the Amok was in two pieces is why Chat Blanc didn’t destroy himself if Gabriel’s ring was still capable of being destroyed while he was transformed, and if London still got wrecked. We saw in Crocoduel the item has to be COMBINED and THEN destroyed. Destroying both at once doesn’t count.

And it would explain something in Chat Blanc.

We know the move he TRIED to do was kill himself. He engulfed himself in the power before it went out of control.

We also know, officially of Guilt Trip, that cataclysm DOESN’T KILL SENTIMONSTERS. It makes it so the Amok doesn’t control them, usually go crazy. We saw Chat Noir get Cataclysm’d in Miraculer, but he didn’t turn to ash. We don’t even know if he truly died. He was suffering, to be sure, and we see Sentimonsters take damage. He could have been damaged.

But Chat Blance is a Sentimonster AND an Akuma, so he was able to take the damage more and went absolutely off the rails instead, and instead of blaming Gabriel, like he should have...

He blamed Ladybug.

Because he was no longer connected to what gave Gabriel control over him. The only ‘control’ over himself he recognized was Ladybug’s influence and his own love.

And then there’s Plagg’s influence, which ties into Cataclysm. Sentimonsters cannot be killed by Plagg’s magic, but they can be FREED of control thanks to his magic. As I said in my first post, the one time we see Adrien disobey as direct order, its after he meets Plagg and goes to school. He uses Chat Noir as a means to disobey all the time.

In being bonded to Plagg, Adrien is given genuine free will and freedom, over the manufactured version that his parents made with a split Amok. He is able to decide things on his own, because he has the chaos magic that grants him the ability to SAY NO. To develop his own means of rebelling.

Ask for forgiveness over permission. And sometimes, learning to say no anyway.

This doesn’t change the conditioning Adrien has been through. He’s obedient to a fault because that is all he’s ever known. Its just instead of fear and gaslighting having trained this into him, it was magic. His parents never NEEDED to be cruel, Emilie COULD be as kind as Adrien says, because they never needed to use negative reinforcement on him.

They had magic.

And that was able to do the job just as well.

Plagg is able to naturally counter the magic. And he’s giving Adrien the unconditional love and support to help him learn, but Adrien is still a person, still has a personality. And the mental bars he has around his head are just as effective as the magic ones were.

E. Shadow Moth vs Mayura

There is something I’ve noticed between how Shadow Moth and Mayura operate.

Mayura made Sentmonsters for others, but she did make one for herself: Ladybug. But here is the thing about Sentibug, she gave her orders. Gave her a general guideline. And then she let Sentibug take those orders and just go.

Shadow Moth, when he makes an Amok, does not do this. He allows others to control Sentimonsters as they will, and often Sentimonsters are just given general guidelines, but not Shadow Moth’s Sentimonsters. Sentibubbler, SentiNino, SentiAlec are Sentimonsters Shadow Moth made.

And he didn’t give them orders. He didn’t give them guidelines.

They were Literal Puppets.

He controlled their movements. He SPOKE THEIR WORDS FOR THEM.

Out of all the Sentimonsters, Gabriel is literally the only one who has used his Sentimonster this way.

And I think there’s a good reason for it. I don’t think Gabriel is capable of making an entity that can act on its own, but is still a complete slave to his will and be okay with it.

Because what does that say about Adrien?

Akumas are fine because those are PEOPLE. People he manipulated and coerced, people he threatened, but they are still people. They can still refuse him and he knows it.

Puppets are find because that’s all they are, puppets.

But this middle ground that Sentimonsters are, that is what Adrien is. And Gabriel is unable to cope with that because it means seeing his son as a tool and despite how much of a genuinely terrible person Gabriel is, that is not something he’s willing to see in himself.

So he hyper controls the Sentimonsters and Does Not Think About It.

F. Wishmaker.

Listen, its valid to have a wish as a child to be what your parents wanted to be. Depending on parents, it could be a perfectly healthy wish.

Here’s the thing.

Everytime Wishmaker granted a wish, we saw people at the age they wanted that wish granted. They were children when they had this wish.

ADRIEN WAS AN INFANT.

And here’s the thing.

Infants don’t think of others. Infants are a bundle of vulnerability that is very curious about the world and don’t want to die and is trying to figure out how to make its wants known. Infants are selfish beings because they are just trying to survive in this world they’ve shown up in.

An infant doesn’t think about what its parents want.

Adrien should not have been CAPABLE of having that wish as an INFANT.

Not unless he wasn’t human.

A Sentimonster sure does want to do what its Amok holder wants.

And what his parents wanted was a son. What they wanted was Adrien.

So that’s why Adrien appears as Adrien for the wish, because for all he has doubts, the Sentimonster in him knows that is what they wanted.

F2. Gabriel and Emilie’s eyes.

....idk, fam. The fact their eye colors were switched FEELS important and we’ve supposedly seen Emilie at seventeen with green eyes and her sister has green eyes, so what’s up with that is wei-

F2. GABRIEL AND EMILIE’S EYES, A THOUGHT I LITERALLY HAD RIGHT NOW.

The Amok is both rings. Gabriel and Emilie have their own rings. The rings they have always worn as their own.

Felix, with green eyes, has Gabriel’s ring.

Gabriel, with blue eyes, has Emilie’s ring.

The reason the eyes are switched in Adrien’s memory is because he associates the eyes with the ring and the current holder of the specific ring have THOSE EYES. He knows the faces they SHOULD be, but the eyes are DIFFERENT because the holders are DIFFERENT.

G. Allergies.

Its still funny if a boy made out of a feather has a feather allergy. It may also be a defense mechanism put in. Logically, any peacock user will have feathers. Maybe he’s allergic in case they ever lose the peacock, he’ll avoid the holder while they’re transformed at least. Maybe it could even distract the holder from noticing anything off about him.

H. Obedience.

Adrien is obedient. Which is one of the reasons he’s a suspect Sentimonster. I won’t go into this because I already talked about his Permission versus Forgiveness thing.

I. Taking Charge

I talked about before about Adrien taking charge and struggling with it, but I also have another point about it.

The thing is, we see Adrien excel at second in command....but also when he’s Chat Noir.

Adrien did BADLY as Mister Bug and as Aspik. But the thing is, Plagg wasn’t there at the time. As Mister Bug, Plagg was with Marinette. As Aspik, the ring is in the weird pocket dimension things are bamf’d away and while Plagg is around, his power isn’t bonded to Adrien.

Adrien has proven able to figure out Ladybug’s plans with minimal instructions. The fact Mister Bug couldn’t even get to step one is weird.

He tried being Aspik for months and was unable to figure out what he needed to do, focused solely on the objective of protect Ladybug. Unable to step back and think beyond his goal. Three months is a long time to not come up with ANYTHING.

Its like Adrien’s ability to decide things on his own was compromised. Like his free will was stripped away, hindered by the rings that control him. He could try to focus on protecting Ladybug, but he couldn’t figure out a good way to take down the enemy on his own.

His father didn’t want him to.

We do see Adrien can lead well. When he wanted to talk to Juleka in Guilt Trip, HE was the one making the right decision. But he was unable to overtake Marinette’s charisma, so even if he could think of what to do, how to handle the situation, he doesn’t have the force of personality to overtake a true leader.

We see Chat Noir have plans and direct a crowd.

With Plagg granting him agency, he’s able to make good decisions, good calls, able to use that brain of his well. Its when he loses Plagg he struggles the most.

J. The Need To Be Useful

Adrien thinks he needs to be useful. He needs to be good and perfect. And yes, this is reinforced by Gabriel’s treatment of him, always criticizing him, but it is a kind of curious fear.

Adrien has two great fears.

The fear of trapped isolation and the fear of rejection.

The fear of trapped isolation is the one Gabriel has reinforced. Adrien has only shown a fear of his father rejecting him once, during Christmas, when he was frustrated in the idea Gabriel would not spend time with him, and even then, Adrien chose to make it a reality on his own first.

And its very likely Gabriel was affectionate when he was younger.

I think the fear of rejection from Gabriel is a newer one that Adrien is aware of. After Gabriel has refused to be around Adrien.

But I think the fear was ALWAYS there. Because he is an Sentimonster. If a Sentimonster isn’t useful, then they have no reason to exist. And the thing is, while Adrien fears this, there is also a strong part of him that is RESIGNED to it.

Which makes it even weirder in that Gabriel’s behavior should make this a NEWER fear...unless it was part of Adrien’s natural existence. One of a Sentimonster. He’s afraid of it, because he wants people, he loves people, but there is a part of him that just....accepts it as a natural consequence.

One that isn’t worth fighting.

Like he isn’t in season four right now.

K. Memories

Adrien couldn’t remember having childhood dreams. We know he used to play with Chloe and...that’s it. There’s even implication his modeling is a Newer Thing instead of being a child model.

We know he didn’t have a childhood dream. He never had a childhood wish. Which is weird because Adrien is the biggest romantic dreamer of the series save for ROSE. He never thought about being a charming knight, a magical girl, even just being a superhero? He was all on board with being a superhero when offered, like he’s thought about it a lot!

But it wasn’t something he called a childhood dream.

But you know who probably did have being a superhero as a childhood dream?

Chloe.

If Adrien has two Amoks to make a facsimile of free will, it may have been impossible for him to truly ‘dream’ in the sense Wishmaker was talking about. It was too deep of a want for him to truly conceptualize enough to count.

But he played games with Chloe, he still saw the wishes and dreams and fantasies that he could enjoy with her as a proxy.

Perhaps that is why they were such good friends. Chloe wanted things so fiercely that for Adrien, who struggled to want, he was able to figure out how to do it with her influence. Not enough for a childhood dream, but enough to know how to want enough that it gave him a love for people. A need for more in his life beyond the perfect son.

L. Emotions.

Adrien is the heart of the Ladybug and Chat Noir duo. The Peacock is the Miraculous of Emotions. Adrien has shown a difficulty at controlling his own feelings. He can control his REACTIONS, but its hard for him to figure out what to do about his feelings beyond ‘conceal, don’t feel.’

Which is weird, because he’s extremely empathetic. He’s very good at judging others emotions (save for Marinette ‘Just A Friend’ Dupain-Cheng.) He can offer comfort and figure out is they need space or help. The fact he struggles with his own says maybe his are just too strong.

Like he’s a being Made Of Emotions.

M. Narrative Foreshadowing.

Just saying it again.

It comes up a lot with Adrien becoming some kind of puppet, copy, impostor. It happens so much. SO MUCH.

Also he was the first one to think Sentibug was a Real Person.

Then there is the end of Mega Leech.

Could it just be another example of Adrien being emotionally abused? Sure.

However, considering how often this series genuinely glosses over abuse (Adrien, Chloe, Kagami, even Zoe to an extent), its weird to just throw that in at the end of an episode that, frankly, barely involves Adrien’s emotions.

Save one.

Adrien was told it was a perfume commercial. He was Lied To. He was told One Thing was Another.

And there is the framing. There is the double focus on the ring, the focus on the words. There is so much focus on this being a command that could not be denied, and that doesn’t need to involve the ring AT ALL if it was abuse.

Unless, of course, the ring was an Amok.

Then the visual cues make a whole lot more sense.

N. The Wild Mass Guessing.

Now what is the wish.

Clearly Emilie’s use of the peacock is what made her sick and it made her sick for years. Now whether the peacock was ALREADY BROKEN or Emilie broke it is up in the air. Either way, we know she used the peacock longterm. Since there is no talk of supervillains or previous superheroes, it seems highly unlikely she was granting people super powered monsters.

So, her use was for a Sentimonster. Perhaps trying to split the Amok broke the peacock. Perhaps that one use was enough to make her sick, but because it was just the one time, it took years for the magical sickness to take her down. That is all up in the air.

What we do know, the crux of the wish is fifteen years ago. Which means it involves Adrien’s existence in some way. It likely involves rewriting time a bit.

And here is the thing.

Gabriel loves Adrien. He does. He’s a trash person, he’s toxic at best, abusive at worst, but HE LOVES ADRIEN.

What if the peacock was broken when they found it. What is Emilie DIDN’T break it?

‘I wish the Peacock was never broken.’

Fifteen years ago, Gabriel and Emilie were trying to have a baby. But they were unable to conceive. Amelie had her own baby boy, and he’s beautiful, and Emilie and Gabriel just hurt more at their inability to have a child.

(This is why adoption should be seen as more valid, folks, but that’s neither here nor there.)

But Emilie’s family knows of magic. Because let’s be fair, there is something truly suspicious about that lot and it screams they know magic stuff. Emilie has heard of grand artifacts and magics and maybe there is away around this limitation.

They explore the world, research magic artifacts, until they finally find the Peacock and Butterfly Miraculous. They are able to learn what they can do, either from Nooroo and Duusu. Clearly an Akuma does nothing for them, but a Sentimonster?

That had possibilities.

But the Peacock is broken.

Emilie doesn’t care.

They experiment. She uses the Peacock more and more, but she figures out the trick. She figures out how to make a child, how to make him SAFE.

Adrien is created, using the sign of their union, and the Miraculous are locked away.

But Emilie is still sick from figuring out how to create Adrien. And the years go by and she doesn’t get better, but she doesn’t care. She has her son. A son both her and Gabriel love, but they have to be careful. He’s not human, after all, just a little off.

Let him meet Chloe, because the Bourgeios are hardly normal. Slowly socialize him. Keep him inside so no one sees how odd he is. Keep him safe. He grows, happy enough, independent ENOUGH to believe.

Then Emilie collapses.

And doesn’t get up.

Gabriel is the only one with active control. He keeps Emilie’s ring on her finger and hides her away, but now, he’s the only one who can order his son. He doesn’t want to destroy what independent thought Adrien has achieved, doesn’t want to destroy HIS SON, so he keeps his distance. He only interacts in ways where he can be silent, or criticize what he has always criticized. Doesn’t even dare to get him a gift for his birthday because what if that becomes far too important?

As Adrien shows a rebellious streak, does things for himself, asks for things HE wants, things that Gabriel will sometimes give if its deemed safe, and Gabriel tentatively shows a little more attention. Goes to a few events, goes on a few trips. Not for long, brief amounts of time, hoping that Adrien keeps being Himself.

Because he can’t take off the ring.

Taking off the ring means leaving Adrien vulnerable.

And he fights Ladybug and Chat Noir for his wish.

If the Peacock wasn’t broken/didn’t break, then Emilie wouldn’t have gotten sick. She would wake up and Adrien wouldn’t be erased by his sole control. Maybe if he’s bold enough, he can just make sure Adrien was never at risk of being a puppet again. Take the Amok’s out of the equation, make his son real.

And if time is altered then....then it doesn’t MATTER if Adrien is hurt NOW. If he hates being alone. If Gabriel fails, at least he doesn’t erase what little will his son has left. If Gabriel wins, then literally nothing done matters!

Sometimes he forgets that. He sees Adrien in danger, and he feels that fear, that need to save his son.

Sometimes he remembers, tells himself if he wins, then any harm he caused Adrien with Riposte, with Style Queen, WITH CHAT BLANC, will no longer matter. He just had to win, he has to win, he has to win because it will return Emilie, and it will ensure his son is never lost in the magic that makes his soul.

It doesn’t matter who he hurts. It doesn’t matter how villainous he becomes. None of it matters as long as he achieves his end.

Once, he even thinks of explaining it to Adrien. Tell him he’s Hawk Moth. Tell him he’s a Sentimonster. He knows the distance hurts his son, but if he knew why, then Adrien would understand just how much he loves Adrien.

He keeps his distance so he doesn’t accidentally change Adrien.

He’s Hawk Moth so he can save Emilie and Adrien.

He will fix everything once he wins, and he regrets how often he had hurt Adrien until then.

And then Adrien talks about how he’s noticed Gabriel and Nathalie becoming closer and Nathalie has the Peacock. Adrien is switching his loyalty from Emilie to Nathalie, he’s changing due to MAGIC and Gabriel is furious because he’s been too lax, been too kind, he needs to WIN.

When the Peacock will no longer hurt, when Nathalie will stop fighting him on him using it, he takes it. To keep Adrien from changing more due to magic.

There are times where Gabriel’s heart remind him of his love. He can’t hurt his son then.

There are times where he remembers his goal. If he wins, whatever harm he caused Adrien doesn’t matter, and he HAS to win.

And he throws himself more and more and more into the fight, into winning because if he can win, then he can save everyone important to him.

What does it matter if Adrien suffers now as long as its undone?

[robininthelabyrinth]

First time submitting prompts, fairly new follower. Love your writing!

NHS and LWJ friendship. Subtle and maybe people other than their big brothers don't see it and it shocks people when they find out. Mostly Canon compliant?

Associates - Part 3 - ao3, pt 1, pt 2

In the end, it was Lan Wangji who went to get Wei Wuxian, rather than wait patiently for him to return of his own free will as he had originally intended.

It had been Nie Huaisang’s idea, after nearly a year of Wei Wuxian travelling – they’d never actually pursued the jealousy idea he’d initially suggested on account of it being a terrible idea, Lan Wangji’s temporary moment of insanity in even considering it aside. It had come up seemingly apropos of nothing, one day when the two of them were working together in Lan Wangji’s study, Lan Wangji filling out the paperwork in his graceful handwriting as Nie Huaisang flittered around solving problems – he preferred pacing as he thought, which perhaps explained his reluctance to work on documents despite his beautiful calligraphy, and all the marching around made him, in some moments, look remarkably like his elder brother, something Lan Wangji deliberately refrained from ever mentioning.

“You need to go pick him up,” Nie Huaisang had suddenly said, in between planning out the next discussion conference and explaining why a seemingly minor dispute regarding shifting the boundary line near the Yuncheng Bao sect by a single li could have catastrophic consequences for the Jin sect’s long-term stability. “I know you’re afraid of giving the impression that you’re trapping him and restraining his freedom, but that’s your problem, not his. He wants to be asked.”

“Does he?” Lan Wangji had asked, finishing the sentence he was on and putting down the brush. Some things took priority above night-fishing rights near a contained Waterborne Abyss, no matter the new head of the Laoling Qin sect might think.

“Mm, yes. He’s been taking a lot of night hunts in the immediate vicinity of Gusu, close but never too close…Lan Zhan, he’s hinting that he wants you to chase him.”

“Pride?”

“A bit, maybe? Mostly I think it was his position in Yunmeng Jiang, where the former Sect Leader Jiang wanted him and Madame Yu didn’t, so his status was always that slightest bit uncertain. Here and now, he wants to know that he’s really welcome…don’t give me that look! He knows he’s welcome, you’ve made that clear, but making you be the one to ask is just another way to ensure that it’s actually true.”

And so Lan Wangji had gone to where he’d heard that Wei Wuxian was night-hunting, flying down on Bichen when he saw him walking with Lil’ Apple along a mountain path – he called his name, and Wei Wuxian had turned and smiled…

Wei Wuxian had come back with him.

More than that – he’d kissed him, he’d said he was staying with him, he’d agreed to marry him, to live their life together from then on.

They were officially engaged now, the auspicious date having been selected, Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling having demanded roles on the side of the bride – Wei Wuxian briefly protested being the bride, then realized that he was marrying into the Lan sect and promptly reversed course, announcing that he wanted all the trappings of being a bride, excluding the dress – and life was very, very good.

Unfortunately, a couple of weeks was about as long as the cultivation world could hold off on needing its Chief Cultivator to be more than part time – he’d done a lot of the work in the mornings while Wei Wuxian was still asleep or when he was busy, and of course he had the system of delegation that Nie Huaisang had constructed for him and naturally Nie Huaisang himself helping out through his letters – and regretfully, Lan Wangji had had to return his full focus to his duties.

At first, it didn’t mark that much of a change: Wei Wuxian would bring projects of his own and they would work side by side, Lan Wangji already accustomed to the presence of another through all the work he’d done with Nie Huaisang, and Lan Wangji insisted that Wei Wuxian go out regularly with the juniors for night-hunts even if he himself could not. It all seemed fine, except only that Lan Wangji had the distinct feeling that he was missing something important.

It was only when the first big issue came up – a serious dispute between two small sects – that Lan Wangji realized what that was.

He sent a message to the Unclean Realm and waited.

Nie Huaisang arrived at the Cloud Recesses at the exact time one might expect if Nie Huaisang had received the message and left at once at top speed, accounting for the relatively slow pace he had when flying as a result of his mediocre cultivation.

Letter still crushed in his hand, he swept into the jingshi in his usual manner, all high drama and flash, wailing, “Lan Zhan! You betrayed me! You, of all people! My oldest friend!”

Lan Wangji, who had been expecting this, rolled his eyes.

Wei Wuxian, sitting in the desk he’d claimed as his own, looked up, startled. “Nie Huaisang?”

“Oh, hi, Wei Wuxian, congratulations on your engagement, has Lan Zhan shown you the present I sent? Probably not, he never does – Lan Zhan! Don’t think I’m letting you distract me with Wei Wuxian! You answer for this right away!”

He waved the crumbled letter at Lan Wangji.

“There is nothing to explain,” Lan Wangji said. “I requested your assistance in my capacity as Chief Cultivator.”

“You called me a spineless, gutless coward!”

Wei Wuxian made a choking sound.

“I sought to accurately characterize your recent behavior,” Lan Wangji said, and noted that Wei Wuxian’s choking noises got worse, although he did not actually appear to be in need of air. “Do you object?”

(There was something about Nie Huaisang’s company that reminded Lan Wangji irresistibly of being a child again, he had found, and it was only recently that he had begun to remember that as a child he had once had a tendency to bite. A pleasant rediscovery, even if the sharpness of his teeth were now expressed via paper and ink rather than through physical attacks.)

“You were the one who took a month off,” Nie Huaisang complained, a blatant lie given that Lan Wangji had been on partial duty for no more than two weeks, but dropped into his usual place at Lan Wangji’s side obediently enough. “Lan Zhaaaaaaan, don’t make me do work –”

Lan Wangji was going to say something about how it wasn’t like Nie Huaisang was doing any less work by doing his part in the Unclean Realm rather than being physically present in Gusu for consultations, he was just doing it less efficiently, but that was when Wei Wuxian coughed into his hand.

“Sect Leader Nie,” he said, with too much formality, but Nie Huaisang waved his hands at him querulously, clearly disapproving, and his shoulders relaxed a little. “Ah – Nie Huaisang. Since when do you call Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan? I thought you called him Lan-er-gongzi?”

“Oh, no, it’s been Lan Zhan since I was – what, seven or so?” Nie Huaisang said. “I wasn’t joking about him being my oldest friend, you know. We were just fighting back then, when you came for the lectures.”

Wei Wuxian blinked rapidly and turned to look at Lan Wangji, who nodded in confirmation.

They’d failed each other rather thoroughly back then, neither one being there for the other when they could have been. Nie Huaisang had not been wrong to observed that simply because he had always been free and open with his affections, Lan Wangji had assumed they would always be there to be resumed at a later time, without any need for maintenance – playing hot and cold, offering and receiving comfort and support at certain times, totally distant at others…it wasn’t until much later, when Lan Wangji emerged from seclusion, that he had needed Nie Huaisang again, and realized what he’d lost in the blank and disinterested glance of the boy he’d once thought of as his friend, who now seemed to visit the Cloud Recesses only in search of his elder brother.

They’d spoken in those intervening years, but it had always been light, superficial. Lan Wangji could have reached out a hand at that time, sought to resume their relationship, but he was consumed with his own grief, his own troubles, and out of respect for the face of his sect he had refused to share them; perhaps if he had, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have done what he had done, would have relied upon him instead.

Perhaps things would have been very different.

It wasn’t until he’d finally swallowed his pride to ask Nie Huaisang for help with the overwhelming work of being Lan sect leader and Chief Cultivator both that they had broken through that distance once more. It had been difficult at first, readjusting their long-lost patterns to their adult behaviors, but they had slowly but surely fallen into a comfortable dynamic that suited them both.

“I had no idea,” Wei Wuxian said blankly. “You spend much time together?”

“Nie-xiong assists me in my duties,” Lan Wangji interjected before Nie Huaisang could spout something stupid about eloping, as he was sometimes wont to do. “He has been critical in ensuring that I am not overwhelmed.”

Wei Wuxian mouthed ‘Nie-xiong’, but what he said was, “You, Lan Zhan? Overwhelmed?”

Lan Wangji nodded. “My brother went into seclusion,” he explained. “As sect heir, I became responsible for the duties of sect leader of the Lan sect, and I had also accepted the post of Chief Cultivator.”

“And he didn’t have anyone else to help, so he came to me,” Nie Huaisang said cheerfully, ignoring how Wei Wuxian’s eye twitched. “I hope you don’t mind. It was very convenient a trade: I know plenty of things about being a sect leader – more than you’d think, I swear! – and Lan Wangji, as Chief Cultivator, can help me whenever someone tries to make something out of that awful business last year.”

There had been a few unfortunate sequelae to those events. Nie Huaisang’s role had never been officially confirmed, but somehow word had gotten out regardless and sects throughout the cultivation world were looking at Nie Huaisang in suspicion – less out of concern for Jin Guangyao, although there were a few that had especially benefited from his rule that were disappointed, than with an eye towards the future. The wise ones were afraid of his patience and planning, but far more were simply greedy, looking for a chance to finally uproot the notorious Headshaker now that his best protection, his brother’s two sworn brothers, were not there to defend him.

As he had promised, Lan Wangji had defied any attempts by others to do anything of that sort.

As he had promised, he would not change his mind or withdraw his support, no matter what Wei Wuxian said.

His shoulders tensed as Wei Wuxian looked over at him, his expression thoughtful. “I’m going to need to talk to Jiang Cheng,” he remarked, seemingly unrelatedly, and then said, “Well, I trust Lan Zhan’s judgment.”

Nie Huaisang had covered his face with his fan and was looking over it at Wei Wuxian. “You do? And here I thought you didn’t associate with evil…”

“Those are from Lan Zhan’s sect rules, not mine,” Wei Wuxian declared. “If he doesn’t judge you to be evil, who am I to say otherwise?”

Nie Huaisang smiled.

“We should talk more, sometime,” Wei Wuxian continued. “And hey, Nie-xiong, I don’t know if you still collect those books –”

“Oh, of course, Wei-xiong!” Nie Huaisang said enthusiastically. “Though you don’t need to ask for them from me. Lan Zhan’s built up quite a collection over the years.”

Lan Wangji sighed, even as Wei Wuxian spun to look at him with a predatory look in his eyes, not unlike a sighthound that had just fixed on its prey. “You do?”

“Nie-xiong has gifted me with many art pieces over the years,” Lan Wangji admitted. His ears felt as though they were on fire; they were undoubtedly red. “You may peruse them at your leisure.”

“At our leisure,” Wei Wuxian murmured, his eyes deeply intent. “I can’t wait to see what spring books you like best, Lan Zhan.”

Lan Wangji averted his eyes, feeling hot.

Nie Huaisang giggled and snapped his fan shut. “You don’t want to see the art I sent, Wei-xiong, trust me,” he cackled. “You want to see the pieces. Just ask!”

Wei Wuxian grinned and shook his head. “I think that’s a private discussion! Anyway, I’m going to go talk to Jiang Cheng – you two work on your Chief Cultivator stuff.”

“Your insight would be welcome,” Lan Wangji said, but Wei Wuxian waved a casual hand.

“Later, later,” he said breezily. “I don’t know either of those sects, I couldn’t possibly say anything intelligent – maybe next time you have a question. I look forward to working with you, Nie-xiong.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Lan Wangji watched them smile at each other – still a little wary, but both clearly willing to attempt a renewal of their own friendship, even after everything – and his heart felt light.

The only thing, he reflected, that would make this perfect would be if Lan Xichen came out of seclusion.

But with Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian, and Nie Huaisang on the job, they’d be sure to figure out a way to do that soon enough.

He was sure of it.