#if people need me to add different tags to this please let me know?

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.

As Eddie fights for his life, how far can his psyhiatrist go to save him when she finds out he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because of Eddie's innocence, but because they have developed feelings for each other over time. In the midst of all this confusion, a series of secret experiments on patients in the mental hospital and a series of dark secrets make everything more difficult.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, Explicit Sexual Content, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.

Before you read:)

This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.

Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. ao3 link

John and Violet were sitting across from each other in the cafeteria. Violet stirred her tasteless food with a spoon, her eyes darting to the clock on the wall. She was waiting for the evening shift to begin; it was twenty minutes to five. She was waiting for Brendon's shift to start so she could find out how and where Eddie was.

John noticed the worry on Violet’s face and spoke up. "So, this Max Mayfield you’re talking about, she’s the one who reported Eddie, right?"

Violet sighed. "She did and didn’t. They suspect Vecna used her as a puppet," she said.

Amid the chaos of the last few days, Violet had told John everything: the information in Eddie’s file, what Steve and the others had said… It wasn’t easy to process, but John was experienced because he used to be a cop and quickly grasped the situation.

"Which means the only people who can get you out of here are Steve and the others," John said. "Do they even know Max is here?"

Violet shrugged. "I don’t know," she said thoughtfully. "But why would they bring her to the same mental hospital as the guy who ‘almost killed’ her and ‘put her in a coma’?" She made air quotes, sarcastically emphasizing the points Eddie was accused of.

John smirked slightly. "We need to find a way to reach that Steve guy," he said.

Violet nodded in agreement. "How did Eddie reach him? Could we do it the same way?"

John shook his head negatively. "We snuck into the manager’s office and made a call. It was pure luck. And we got caught that time too—you saw what they did to Eddie. We can’t take that risk again," he said.

"Can’t Brendon make a call?" Violet asked.

John took a deep breath and shrugged. "Since we escaped, they’ve tightened security. They even look at the staff’s calls. So, that’s not really an option," he said.

Just then, the cafeteria door opened, and Brendon entered, carrying a metal tray with bandages, scissors, and other medical supplies. Violet stood up excitedly. Brendon approached and began to gently remove the bandage from her head.

"Eddie’s in a cell," Brendon said in a low voice. "He’s okay but very worried about you."

Hearing this, Violet’s anxiety eased a little, but she still wanted to see Eddie. "Can I see him? Will you take me to him?" she asked.

Brendon shook his head. "You’re no longer a doctor here, Violet. To get in there, you’d have to get yourself into trouble or something. And even then, I doubt they’d let you two be in the same cell," he said.

John raised both hands in mock surrender, letting out a small laugh. "Looks like it’s up to me again," he said in a joking tone.

Violet was about to give him a puzzled look when she noticed Dr Oliver and Wilson coming through the door. Oliver was feverishly explaining something to the manager. Violet turned her attention to them to listen to their conversation.

Oliver's voice was serious. “Mr. Wilson, the condition of these patients is truly appalling. They need care. How do you expect them to get better when they live in zero hygiene and cannot feel comfortable?”

Wilson responded with a nonchalant attitude “I already have too few staff and too many patients. As if that wasn't enough, you came all the way from Michigan. Be grateful if you can find a seat for yourself. Let me run my hospital and you go about your business.’’

Violet couldn’t help but smile inwardly at the exchange. Oliver’s naive determination felt familiar to her. It was like experiencing déjà vu. However, she knew it wouldn’t take long for him to learn how terrible this place truly was.

John winked at her and leaned slightly closer, whispering, "Wilson’s here. It’s time."

John’s angry outburst had caught the attention of the other patients in the cafeteria. Pointing his index finger at Violet in a threatening manner, his voice grew louder.

"Are you calling me an arsonist?!" he shouted. The wave of anger in John’s voice echoed in the room as Brendon glanced at Violet and signaled her to get up. Violet hesitated for only a moment before rising to her feet. It didn’t take her long to get into character and step toward John.

"Aren’t you? We’re back here because of you, you idiot! If you had driven properly, we’d be free now!" Violet retorted, unable to hold back her anger. "Where’d you get your license? A butcher shop? Oh wait, probably from a stove maker, since you’re so good with fire." She mimicked a lighter with her hands, mocking him.

John, furious at Violet’s sarcastic remarks, stormed toward her, closing the gap between them. Now, they were standing almost nose to nose. "At least I’m not stuck as a patient in the hospital I came to as a doctor, you lunatic!" he yelled, then suddenly leaned closer to her face and said in a low tone, "Hit me." He was trying to turn the situation to his advantage while everyone was watching.

Violet hesitated, staring at him as if she hadn’t fully understood his words. She noticed Wilson and Dr. Oliver watching the commotion from the other side of the cafeteria. Responding to John’s demand, she clenched her fist and delivered a sharp punch. At that moment, Brendon stepped in to separate them, but John wasn’t idle either. He threw kicks at Violet, intentionally missing. Violet struck a bit harder, ensuring it looked realistic.

Dr Oliver panicked and rushed over. "Please calm down; we can resolve this through conversation," he pleaded, trying to ease the tension. 

But Wilson had run out of patience. Pointing at Violet and John, he barked at Brendon, "Take them to the cells in the basement so they can cool off."

Violet barely restrained herself from smiling. Internally, she was quite pleased for having roughed up John a bit. Brendon nodded like a soldier receiving orders and grabbed both of them by the collars, escorting them out of the cafeteria. Violet could hear Oliver protesting behind Wilson, complaining about the ’’this method of punishment is barbaric and contrary to human rights’’ but she only rolled her eyes.

They began walking toward an unknown part of the hospital. The stairs seemed endless; Violet couldn’t help but think, "We’re descending all the way to hell." At last, at the bottom of the stairs, Brendon released their collars. Violet and John walked ahead now, with Brendon quietly accompanying them.

John turned to Violet with a faint smirk. "For someone so small, you sure hit hard," he said.

Violet laughed. "And for someone with all those muscles, you scream like a little girl," she shot back. John rolled his eyes but allowed a small smile to escape.

"My whole body hurts from the crash," John added. "I’ll get my rematch when I’m in better shape."

Brendon chuckled at their exchange. "You were like this when we were kids too. Always had an excuse when you lost," he said.

Violet looked at Brendon in surprise. "When you were kids? How long have you been police partners anyway?" she asked. John gave her the same surprised look.

"Partners?" he said, pursing his lips. "We’re brothers."

Violet took a step back in astonishment, studying them both carefully. "But I saw... both of you in the news article. In police uniforms," she said.

Brendon smiled. "Can’t brothers do the same job?" he replied. Violet suddenly felt like everything clicked into place. Brendon’s willingness to take such great risks made sense now; he wasn’t just here for a friend—he was here to save his brother.

Brendon stopped in front of a heavy iron door. "We’re here," he announced. Violet now focused on the scene before her. The corridor was lined with dark, narrow cells, each resembling a prison block. Behind the bars, there was only a single, uncomfortable-looking bed in each cell. The stench was so overpowering that Violet almost longed for the smell of the cafeteria upstairs.

From one of the cells, there was a stir. Violet spotted a familiar face and rushed to the bars. It was Eddie. Violet reached her hands through the bars, and Eddie’s hands clasped around hers. He had a few scratches on his face but seemed to have fared relatively well after the crash.

Brendon opened a cell for Violet and guided her inside. John was placed in the cell opposite hers. "You have a therapy session in an hour," Brendon said, pointing at Violet.

"Who’s my doctor?" she asked with a frown.

"Oliver Owsen," Brendon replied.

Violet thought for a moment and added, "Tell him to come and get me from here. I want him to see what this place is like."

Brendon nodded. As he moved to leave, Violet called out once more, "Brendon, is there a chance I could change my cellmate?"

"I’ll see what I can do," Brendon said, disappearing quickly down the corridor.

The echo of Brendon's retreating footsteps faded into the cold corridor walls. When Violet turned around, she noticed the familiar goofy grin on Eddie's face. Their hands met again through the bars, Eddie's warm palms grounding Violet's scattered emotions.

Eddie asked curiously, "How did you end up here?"

The answer came from John in the next cell. Waving his finger with a mildly warning tone, he said, "Careful with this girl, man. If you hurt her, she might kick you so hard you'll never have kids."

Eddie laughed at the comment, his grin widening. Reaching through the bars, he gently stroked Violet's hair, then pulled her closer, inhaling the scent of her hair. His lips still nestled there, he spoke teasingly, "What’s this about a cellmate situation? What did I miss now? This damned hospital can’t go a day without drama."

Violet responded with a laugh, collapsing onto the so-called "bed," an uncomfortable excuse for furniture. Eddie, meanwhile, sat on the floor of his cell, but his hand never left Violet's through the bars.

"They’ve evacuated the Michigan hospital here," Violet explained, detailing the situation. "New patients and staff have arrived. Temporarily, at least."

Eddie winked and muttered with a mischievous grin, "Here’s hoping I get a cute chick as a cellmate."

Violet swatted his hand playfully, then turned curiously to John. "We saw Eddie’s name there. We didn’t even check the one next to it. Got so caught up in my mess, we forgot."

John frowned slightly, puzzled. "Fred something. I don’t remember the last name."

Eddie nudged Violet's hand. "Your mess? What’s happened to you?"

This was the hardest part for Violet. Eddie was unaware of what Steve and the others had told her. He didn’t know that Max had woken up and reported him to the police. Violet hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath and began to speak.

"Eddie, listen carefully to what I’m about to say. You know how I told you I knew you were innocent..." Violet’s voice wavered slightly. Eddie’s brown eyes looked at her with patience and curiosity. Finally, she admitted, "Max woke up."

Eddie’s eyes lit up with excitement. "Are you serious? That’s amazing news!"

Violet glanced at John for help, but he was nervously chewing his nails. Sighing, she turned back to Eddie.

The expression on his face shifted, sensing something was wrong. Violet closed her eyes and summoned her courage to reveal the truth she had been hiding.

"...And now I don’t know why she’s here, but she’s going to be staying in my room."

Those words made Eddie grip her hand tighter. His voice trembled, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears. "Violet... you can’t stay with her... I won’t let you..."

Violet averted her gaze from Eddie's misty eyes. But John’s muffled voice startled her. Pressing his hands and head against the bars, John muttered, "What do we even have left at this point?"

A gloomy silence filled around. Violet responded quietly, "We stole the file that proved what Dr. Arthur did, but they got it back. They’ve probably destroyed it by now."

Eddie let out a heavy sigh, adding, "The only person who could prove my innocence woke up, and now she’s Vecna’s puppet. I’ve got a one-way ticket to the electric chair."

John barked out a harsh laugh. "And anyone who could help us escape thinks we’re dead. We can’t make calls, and we can’t ask Brendon to because we’re being listened to."

In the midst of this dark atmosphere, an idea sparked in Violet’s mind. A smile crept across her lips. "If we can’t talk... we’ll write."

Eddie and John looked at each other, then at Violet. But just as the idea began to take shape, the sound of approaching footsteps made Violet motion for them to be silent. The newcomers were Brendon and Oliver. The sight of the prison-like cells seemed to horrify Oliver, who looked visibly shaken.

Violet thought mockingly, You think it’s bad? You should see WARD C, doctor.

Oliver introduced himself nervously, his voice trembling. ''Violet George, I’m your doctor, Oliver Owsen."

Oliver’s extended hand reached through the bars to shake Violet’s. However, his eyes were carefully examining Eddie from head to toe. Eddie, silent behind the bars, observed Oliver while Violet didn’t let go of Eddie’s hand.

Oliver, “I’m here to get you out of here.”

Violet, “I’ll only leave if my friends come with me.”

Oliver glanced first at Eddie, then at John. His expression revealed that he understood how difficult Violet’s demand was.

Oliver “I’m afraid your friends are not my patients. It wouldn’t be appropriate for me to do that.”

Violet shrugged, responding with a nonchalant tone, “Then I’m not going.”

A hint of embarrassment spread across Oliver’s face. He looked like someone trying to do his job but caught in the middle of a chaotic situation. Violet didn’t doubt Oliver’s sincerity; however, she knew he wouldn’t be able to see the bigger picture of what was happening within this system. She could explain everything to him right now, but the risk was too great. She decided to start her plan from a simpler angle.

Violet nodded toward Eddie. “You see that man standing there, right?”

Oliver nodded affirmatively.

Violet, ���You’ve heard about the murders in Hawkins, haven’t you? Well, he’s the one responsible for them.”

A noticeable fear flickered in Oliver’s eyes. Eddie, seated on his bed with his head in his hands, seemed oblivious to what Violet was saying.

Violet “Now, do you know who my roommate is?” whispered.

This time, Oliver shook his head no.

“It’s Max Mayfield, the girl he almost killed. Now think about it: Does this hospital really care about its rules? I think you need to transfer this patient immediately. Otherwise, Eddie Munson might finish what he started and kill Max. And wouldn’t that also put my life in danger? After all, I’m sharing a room with Max. And you’re my doctor. You’re responsible for me.”

The sound of Oliver swallowing filled the corridor. Behind them, John silently made a gesture of awe, as if to say, Wow. He hadn’t expected Violet to come up with such a plan.

Eddie, his face expressionless, stepped toward the bars. Even though Oliver was outside, he instinctively took a step back. Eddie began speaking in a mocking tone, “If I see that redhead again, tell her I’ll rip her head off this time. I’ve got one more sacrifice to offer the Devil.”

Oliver swallowed again. Then, turning to Brendon, he motioned with his head to unlock the doors. As Brendon unlocked Violet’s cell, he gave her a look of admiration mixed with astonishment.

Violet struggled to hold back her laughter. Madness had its charm sometimes. Whatever you did, no one questioned you. After all, you were insane.

When they emerged from the basement cells and reached the upper floors, Violet took a deep breath. Eddie approached her quietly from behind and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be waiting for you in the common room.”

Violet left the common room, smiling, to follow Oliver. She didn’t know much about this new doctor, but that didn’t matter—for now, all she needed was the pen she had to get from Oliver. When they entered his office, she slumped into a chair, crossing her arms over her stomach and one leg over the other. She planned to leave after answering the routine questions.

Oliver sat at his desk, reviewing a file. His brows were furrowed, as if he were puzzled. After glancing at Violet a few times, he finally asked, “Do you know what day it is today, Mrs George?”

“You can call me Violet,” she replied with a faint smile. “It’s Wednesday.”

Oliver nodded, smiling. “Alright, Violet. Do you know why you’re here?”

Violet tried not to roll her eyes at the routine question. She was here because the crimes pinned on Eddie and the creature Vecna chasing her had led to this point. Of course, she couldn’t explain everything, but she could have a bit of fun.

“The creature Vecna, who made sure all the crimes were pinned on Eddie, started chasing me. So, I was escaping from the hospital to get away from it. Oh, and at the same time, I was going to expose the aliens from the experiments that asshole Dr Arthur conducted on people to the entire world.”

The look of shock on Oliver’s face was almost comical. He glanced back at the file and scribbled something with his pen.

“Given your scores and professional background, I find it very surprising you’re saying such things,” he said in a serious tone. “I thought you might be here because of a misunderstanding. Are you serious?”

Violet answered with a laugh. “Of course I’m not serious.” The relief on Oliver’s face was fleeting.

Violet stifled her laughter as she continued. “I mean, I admit I exaggerated with the aliens. Zombies would’ve been more accurate.”

Oliver froze for a moment before slowly tucking his pen into the outer breast pocket of his doctor’s coat. “I think I’ve tired you enough for today... I have other patients to see,” he said, closing the file. His voice carried a hint of disappointment; his inexperience was obvious.

Violet stood up and was about to leave when a nurse entered the room. “Mr. Owsen, your next patient, Fred Kirk, is waiting at the door.”

Fred Kirk... That name sounded familiar to her. Violet’s mind worked quickly. She took a few steps closer to Oliver and suddenly asked, “Can I give you a hug? Thank you for listening to me.”

Oliver stared at her, unsure of what to say, and Violet hugged him tightly, swiftly snatching the pen with a quick movement of her hand. Then she left the room.

She returned to the common room at a brisk pace. John and Eddie were chatting on the couches. Violet quickly jumped between them. Eddie turned to her and asked curiously.

“Hey, what was the plan? How are we going to reach Steve?”

“If we can’t call him, we’ll write. We’ll send him a letter. Brendon can deliver it, right?” Violet said, determination shining in her eyes.

John nodded in agreement. ���But how are we supposed to write? In case you haven’t noticed, even the forks and knives are plastic. You can’t find anything that could be used as a weapon. Not even a pen.”

Violet pulled the pen from her pocket and smiled triumphantly. Eddie looked at her in awe and asked, “Where did you find that?”

Shrugging, Violet replied with a sly expression, “I guess I had to suck up to my doctor a little.”

John raised the question, “What about paper?” 

Eddie laughed and said, “We can write on toilet paper.” Just then, John pulled out a napkin from his pocket and held it out. Violet and Eddie stared at him blankly.

“What? My nose runs. I carry tissues,” John said defensively.

Eddie squinted at him mischievously. “I hope it’s just for your nose,” he said.

Violet rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys, we need to figure out what to write.”

John suggested the simplest message, as if he’d come up with something groundbreaking, “We’re not dead, we’re alive, get us out of here.”

Eddie shook his head, lightly hitting John on the head. “Why don’t we include Arthur’s entire plan too, while we’re at it? Are you crazy? How did you ever work as a cop? What if they read the letter? If they catch us, it’ll be at least three hundred volts for us this time.”

Eddie took the pen and napkin and started writing something. Then he handed it over with a grin. Violet read it aloud curiously, “The Shire is burning, Mordor is burning. But a hobbit never gives up.”

John turned to Eddie with a serious expression. “Mine made more sense. What is this supposed to mean?”

Eddie just rolled his eyes. “You just give it to Brendon, and he’ll send it to Dustin Henderson. That kid’s a genius. He’ll know it’s from me.”

As John tucked the letter into his pocket, Violet’s attention shifted to the new patients in the common room. She hadn’t seen Max yet. Doctor Oliver was now speaking with his new patient. Violet whispered, “Why does the name Fred Kirk sound so familiar?”

John had no hesitation explaining. “Fred Kirk? You mean the Brooklyn Axeman?”

Violet turned to him in fear. “What?”

John shrugged. “It was one of the cases I worked on before they locked me up here. The guy’s a serial killer. He murders his victims with an ax. Last I heard, he was caught and institutionalized. Why do you ask? You probably saw it on the news. It was a big deal.”

Violet pointed to the blond man and asked, nearly trembling, “Please tell me that’s not him.”

John and Eddie both looked in the direction she indicated. John tilted his head and calmly said, “Alright... I won’t tell you.” 

Eddie sighed and added, “Just what we needed, a serial killer. Fantastic.”

Violet took a deep breath and voiced an even darker realization, “Eddie, I’m not sure but I think he’s going to be your cellmate.”

Violet entered the common room in the morning, and Eddie noticed her immediately. He quickly walked over to her and hugged her tightly. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking into her eyes with concern. Violet nodded in affirmation, then answered in a weary voice, “Are you okay?”

Eddie shrugged. “My roommate broke someone’s nose on the first day, so he’ll be stuck in a cell for a few days. So yeah, I was alone yesterday. What about you? Did you see Max?”

Violet shook her head. “No, I was alone too,” she said.

When Violet noticed John smoking a cigarette on the couch behind Eddie, she frowned. “Where did he even get that cigarette?” she asked. Eddie rolled his eyes and gave her a look that said, Don’t even ask.

“Brendon came by before you arrived,” Eddie said, changing the subject. “He sent the letter yesterday by the fastest mail service. It probably reached them last night.”

“What letter?” a voice asked suddenly, making them both turn in the same direction at the same time.

Hearing a shaky, hurt voice, they both froze for a moment. A red-haired girl with tear-filled eyes and trembling hands was looking at them, embarrassed but scared. Violet guessed she couldn’t be more than 18 or 19 years old. The shock on Eddie’s face was unmistakable. “Max?” Eddie said, his voice filled with uncertainty. Max immediately ran toward him, throwing her arms around him and sobbing uncontrollably.

Eddie stood still for a few seconds, then finally hugged her back. Violet watched them in astonishment. Eddie pulled away slightly, holding Max by her shoulders, and bent down so that their faces were level. “Is it really you?” he asked. Max nodded while wiping her tears.

“When I woke up here, I opened my eyes. I don’t know what’s going on. What are you doing here? What am I doing here? Are we... dead?” Max asked, her voice trembling. Eddie glanced at Violet; they were both thinking the same thing. Could Vecna have used Max to lure them here and then disappeared? Or was this some sort of trap? They had to tread carefully until they figured it out.

Max turned to Eddie and asked, “Why are they still keeping you here? Why am I here? If I’ve woken up, can’t we prove you’re innocent now?”

Violet shrugged but said nothing. If Max found out she had played a role in Eddie being locked up here, she might just have a heart attack on the spot, Violet thought to herself.

Deep down, Violet was sure Max was genuinely herself. Looking at her, she didn’t sense the dark, ominous presence she had felt when confronting Vecna. That intense fear she had once experienced wasn’t there when she looked into Max’s eyes now.

Max wasn’t done with her questions. “And what’s this letter about?”

Before Violet could respond, John cut in, gesturing toward Eddie and Violet with his cigarette.

“These two idiots—everyone thinks they’re dead. But as you can see, they’re right here, alive and kicking. See?” John said, nudging Eddie with his foot. Eddie lightly smacked John’s leg in return, grumbling irritably.

Max continued anxiously, “Did you send it to guys? I hope they don’t make the mistake of calling here. If they do, the people here will know you’ve been communicating with them.”

Eddie smiled faintly and shrugged. “I don’t think they’d do something that dumb. I mean, these guys saved the world. More than once.”

Just then, a nurse approached Violet. “Dr. Oliver Owsen is expecting you,” he said in a formal tone.

Violet sighed, standing up, and began walking toward the doctor seated at a nearby table. “Another day of pretending to be crazy,” she thought to herself. This charade, in a way, was starting to amuse her.

She had even managed to scare the doctor about Eddie. She now realized how much fun Eddie had been having with her in their therapy sessions before Eddie's innocence was exposed.The man was afraid of everything.

Here, people could do anything—spit on the floor, behave disgustingly, or even walk around naked—and no one cared. Because you were ‘crazy,’ and that made everything acceptable. Violet pulled a chair and sat across from the doctor, her eyes still on Eddie in the background.

Oliver coughed lightly to draw attention. Violet turned her gaze away from Eddie to him, then sank back into her chair, folding her arms across her chest. The seriousness on his face made it clear that this wasn’t going to be an ordinary conversation.

“Violet, I need to ask you something,” Oliver said in a low but determined voice.

Violet tilted her head back and took a deep breath. “Are you going to ask me what day it is today?” she asked in a slightly sarcastic tone.

“No,” Oliver replied, ignoring her reaction. “I want to ask you something about a patient.”

This unexpected response piqued Violet’s interest. She raised her head curiously and looked at Oliver’s face attentively. “Have you ever heard of a patient named Ginny Jones here? Or seen her?” he asked.

After a brief pause, Violet shook her head to indicate no. “Why are you asking?” she replied, somewhat cautiously.

“There’s a reason I came here. I’m not here by coincidence. I’m looking for someone,” Oliver said, his voice carrying a stronger emphasis.

Violet sighed, lifting her hands in a gesture of indifference, and yawned. “Everyone’s looking for someone, buddy. That’s life,” she replied, with little interest.

“Violet, I’m asking you to be yourself for a few seconds,” Oliver said impatiently. “It’s obvious that this isn’t you. I can see how intelligent you are. I’ll pretend to believe your crazy stories again, I promise. But right now, I need your help. I went to the corridor of Ward C that you mentioned yesterday. All the rooms had been cleared out. Someone had taken everything there in a hurry.”

At these words, Violet raised her eyebrows and began listening to Oliver more attentively. She was now certain that he was really here looking for someone. The concern in his voice made it clear how important that person was to him.

“I wish I could help you,” Violet said, with a slight hint of regret, “but I’ve never even heard of the person you’re talking about while working here.”

Oliver fell silent for a moment, rubbing his forehead with his hand. “Tell me about this Dr. Arthur,” he said finally. “And his experiments.”

Violet fell into deep thought at this point. She knew one of the biggest shortcomings here was belief. No one would believe you if you said you saw a ghost, had a murderer chasing you, or claimed that you weren’t actually insane. But if someone did believe you, it either meant they had also lost their mind or they truly knew something.

She was certain that Oliver wasn’t a madman. The fire of vengeance in his eyes showed that he was capable of truly doing something about it.

John turned to Eddie, his expression curious as he broke the silence. "What’s wrong, man?" he asked, his voice low.

Eddie tilted his head toward Oliver and Violet, his jaw tightening slightly as he watched the two of them deep in conversation. "Him," Eddie said, nodding toward Oliver. "His existence is enough."

John raised an eyebrow. "What happened?"

"There doesn’t need to be a reason. There’s just something... off about him," Eddie replied, a hint of irritation in his tone. "I can feel it."

John shrugged, his casual demeanor unbothered. "He’s just doing his job," he pointed out.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he leaned forward. "There’s something weird about him. I can sense it."

Before John could respond, a staff member entered the room. John quickly tossed his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it hastily, his hand fanning away the lingering smoke. 

Eddie stretched out on the couch, arms folded behind his head, while Max sat nearby, her gaze darting nervously around the room.

"You’ll get used to it in a few days, Max," Eddie said, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

Max rolled her eyes. "I’m not crazy, Eddie."

Eddie let out a sharp laugh. "But I am. The sooner you accept it, the easier it gets."

John nudged Eddie’s leg with his hand, an insistent poke that drew Eddie’s attention.

"What now?" Eddie snapped, feigning exasperation. "Can’t you leave me alone for two minutes? You’re exhausting."

The playful remark hung in the air as Eddie’s gaze wandered to the ceiling, his eyes tracing the outlines of the religious motifs painted above.

John cleared his throat. "Uh, Eddie?"

"Hmm?" Eddie muttered without looking at him.

"Those friends you always talk about—Steve and, uh, what’s-his-name..."

Eddie turned his head, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, what about them?"

"You said they weren’t dumb enough to call here," John said, his voice cautious.

Eddie sat up straight, his posture suddenly alert. 

His gaze followed John’s, locking onto the sight of Steve standing in the hallway, wearing a blue patient outfit, his curious eyes peering into the room. Beside him was Jonathan.

Rubbing his eyes as if to ensure he wasn’t dreaming, Eddie glanced at Max, who looked back at him with equal disbelief.

"Yeah," Eddie muttered, his voice dripping with irritation. "I was wrong. They’re even dumber than I thought."

Eddie stormed toward Steve, whose grin stretched so wide it showcased every one of his teeth. Steve nudged Jonathan with his elbow, who also broke into a smile upon seeing Eddie.

Their expressions faltered, though, as Eddie’s face grew darker the closer he got. Without hesitation, Eddie smacked each of them on the back of the head.

"What are you idiots doing here?" Eddie demanded, his tone sharp. "Steve, did you forget where the hairdresser’s is? And you, Jonathan? I thought you were the smart one!"

Steve raised a finger to his lips, motioning for Eddie to lower his voice. "You might want to yell a little louder," Steve quipped. "That mustached lady over there didn’t hear you."

Across the room, a woman seated alone at a table playing with domino tiles raised her hand. "I heard you, sweetheart," she called out.

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh despite himself, though the irritation lingered on Steve’s face.

Steve leaned in slightly, his voice more subdued. "Hopper got us in. We’re here to help you."

John, now chewing on a gum, glanced between Eddie and his friends, his expression unimpressed. "Great. Did  this Hopper guy also mention there’s no way out once you’re in here?"

Jonathan and Steve exchanged uneasy glances, but Eddie’s frustration boiled over. His teeth clenched as he grabbed both of them by the arms and dragged them to a corner.

"Vecna’s in Max, huh?" Eddie hissed. "That’s what you told Violet?"

Steve hesitated, his expression grim. "I don’t think so anymore," he admitted. "Actually, part of why we’re here is because of that. Vecna’s weak right now. Even if he picks a new victim, he doesn’t have the strength to take their life. So he’s waiting—for the weakest moment, the most miserable time."

"Dustin said the best place for that would be..." Jonathan started.

"An asylum," Steve finished for him.

Eddie raised his hand like a student seeking permission to speak. "Hold on a second. Are you telling me Vecna could possess anyone here?"

Steve nodded solemnly, confirming Eddie’s worst fear.

Steve’s voice carried a determined and calm confidence. "The more of us there are here, the safer we’ll be," he said. "We have to back each other up. They’re going to release Max today. She’s going to change the statement she gave about you. Once you’re out, we’ll get out too."

A shadow crossed Eddie’s face, his gaze trembling with worry. "What about Violet?" he asked, his voice slightly rising. "And John?"

Jonathan gently placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder, his eyes carrying a soothing expression. "One thing at a time, Eddie" he said softly. "Let’s get you out first."

Eddie turned his head and gestured toward Max, who was sitting in the corner of the room. His gaze revealed a deep concern. "Don’t you think we should check if Vecna is inside her before we send her out of here?" he asked, his words hanging in the air like an echo.

Steve frowned, pausing for a moment as if in thought, then spoke as though he had figured it out. "Vecna hates heat," he said.

Jonathan nodded in agreement, his expression hinting at an answer to Eddie’s worry. "When he got into Will, he ran away from the fire in fear," he added. "We have a chance."

Steve’s gaze wandered around the room as he continued with a bit more hesitation. "But where are we going to find fire in here?"

A faint smile appeared on Eddie’s face. His eyes shifted to John, who was lighting a cigarette across the room. "I know," he said.

taglist: @arabellagreenleaf @cokepowder55 @nessa3nessa @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl @t-folklore13

[mvndrvke]

effie + body modifications trigger warnings : body modifications, body dysmorphia, medical, child abuse, coercion. there is one medical illustration of a ribcage under the cut.

rather than focusing on all the modifications effie has had over the years, i'm gonna keep this pretty short and simple and just talk about the ones she still has. effie has had many procedures and modifications done over the years. capitol fashion is more than just clothes, after all ( as we see with characters like tigris ), and effie is no different in doing whatever she has to in order to chase current fashion trends.

after the 74th games and the end of her engagement, effie removes a majority of her modifications. she only kept three main ones to her ribcage, feet, and legs, which are described in more detail below.

reshaped ribcage. wearing tight-lacing corsets will mess with you if you wear them for a long time, and effie has been wearing things to alter her shape for pretty much her whole life. this restricted her ability to breathe, and after thg, effie has the lower part of her ribcage replaced to allow her to breathe more easily and maintain a more natural body shape. this is the only one of her main three alterations that happened after the 74th games; the others happened before.

feet curving. this is the only real aesthetic/cosmetic change that effie kept. she cannot unpoint her toes, and always walks like she's on her tiptoes, which made it easier for her to wear heels, but also eased the pain she has from plantar fasciitis (inflamed tissue in her heels).

reinforced tibias. realistically, this is because her legs are weak af. effie has shin splints as a result of the wearing away of cartilage in her knees and strain on her shins from wearing heels. she was really doomed to fail from a young age with this one. her shins are very weak because of this displaced pressure, and when she got her procedure on her feet, this followed swiftly after to compensate.

[tagarilaghost]

I SWEAR CELEBI'S THINGY IS COMING SOON BUT I REALLY WANTED TO POST THIS ALRIGHT

yeaah... future trio got me too...

and Darkrai is there too, because of course he is.

hey look i drew a cute Drifloon :D

...ignore the rest

whatever started at Darkrai doodles ended in brainrot of future trio + darkrai and I'm blaming @scribz-ag24 for this

[rheya28]

Tartosa Grand Hotel is a luxurious hotel that sits in the middle of the beautiful island of Tartosa. This hotel offers a breathtaking view of the ocean, plush suites, a pool, a romantic restaurant, and a serene spa, perfect for romantic getaways.

This build was inspired by Hotel Alfonso XIII

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Rheya's Notes:

● I have this lot set as generic but it can be set as a restaurant. If you have Lot51’s Hotel Mod, you can set this as a hotel, add the required mod items needed, and adjust the hotel management settings accordingly. I did playtest this build with the mod and it works fine but of course everyone's game will be different.

➽ Important Notes:

● Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽Lot Details

Lot Name: Tartosa Grand Hotel Lot type: Hotel (generic) Lot size: 50 x 50 Location: Tartosa

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[mechahero]

@viopolis​ asked- 14, 17 and 20!

edgy/misc OC ask meme (accepting!)

14- How does your OC want to be seen by other characters?

I think it depends on who he’s around, since that does affect he how wants a particular person to perceive him. He wants some people to see him as a superhero, others he wants to see as this terrifying, horrific force that will not stop until they’re dead, and for others he just wants to been seen as quiet, if not normal guy. (Minus everything that makes him so not normal but still.)

17- What is the worst thing you have put your OC through story-wise?

Worst thing so far? Because athletes definitely going to be a lot of super crappy things that are going to happen to him in the future. Anyways! Aside from the whole getting unwillingly turned into a cyborg thing, it’s definitely what he had to when he escaped. I’ve already talked about how he basically tore through the facility he was in and went on a panic fueled murder spree, but I never really talked about what he saw in the various rooms while he was escaping. Especially one room in particular.

Lambda had to make his way through a disposal room on the way out. This disposal room was full of the corpses of people who didn’t make it through the experimentation or died through the process of being turned into a cyborg. He had to climb over dead people to get out, so, there’s that?

20- Does your OC have a tendency to get jealous? If so, how does this manifest?

I think he does but he’s not aware that jealousy is something he feels as he lacks the words to describe it. It usually does show though him being incredibly catty. Rude little quips and jabs sent towards the person or thing that’s made him so jealous. Not quite mean girl behavior but definitely a bit close to it. It’s a little ridiculous, to be honest.

[girlsworldillusion]

I'd let the world burn for you

•

Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.

Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.

word count: 6k

There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.

English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.

Good reading!

He can taste vomit in his esophagus.

Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.

The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.

Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.

He can't forget.

It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.

The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.

Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.

He is a hypocrite and he knows it.

Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.

He can't even dare deny liking it all.

When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).

It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.

He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.

At least until it's all over.

When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.

He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.

Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.

Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.

"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”

Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.

His sweet wife.

He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?

He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.

You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.

You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.

Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.

It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.

Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.

But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?

You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.

He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.

At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.

He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.

"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.

Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.

If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.

Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.

He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?

Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.

You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?

He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.

"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.

You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.

A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.

"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."

He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.

It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.

“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."

The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.

It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.

But he can't stop.

Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.

You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"

"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.

Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.

So beautiful.

So pure.

From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.

As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.

He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.

Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.

You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.

Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.

A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.

Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.

“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”

And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.

Anything except being without you.

With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.

You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.

He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.

Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.

“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"

He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.

He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.

"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.

You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.

Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.

He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.

He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.

He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.

He will do it all.

He has done it in the past, many times.

Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.

He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.

“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.

He growls at your plea.

“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”

Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.

"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”

He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.

And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.

"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.

You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.

But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.

You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.

You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.

Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.

Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.

Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.

"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.

A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.

"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.

Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.

And it's because of you.

Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.

He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."

Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.

[dustyhyena]

hi!

please don't scroll if you can- i've gotten alot of messages from palestinians reaching out to me and i've decided it'd do more justice to compile them all into a masterpost to gain traction and to get more eyes on them. please reblog and consider donating to these campaigns! your money would go towards saving the lives of innocent families that have been under threat for almost a year now! 🍉

slight edit 9/20/24: i've updated this post to add those who have previously reached out to me, as well as those who have reached out to me since then. you'll find them below. alot of them are still low on funds, and a few have been deactivated. and i do not want to assume that they were scammers but please take caution and let me know if i need to change anything.

edit 10/2/24: this post has gotten too long, check the reblogs to see the more recent version of this post with more people added!

--

Lina @lina-gaza | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Asmaa @asmaayyad | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link (asmaa's sisters has also reached out to me, so i will tag them here as well. all donations will help them! @samaayyad15 @deyaa-97)

Dr. Husam Farhat @shamfarhat1 and @husamfarht | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Ola @olagaza | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Amal @helpamalm | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

Lama @lamahourani7 | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Mariam @mariam-gaza | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Dina @dinamahammed99 | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Muhammed Musa @mhammedmosa | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

Ahmed @ahmeddahlancampaign | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

(ahmed's sister also has an account at @azeza-dhlan)

Mahmoud @mohmoud-j | post (has been vetted) | gofundme link

(mahmoud's wife also has an account at @jomana-ha)

Mohammed @mohammedswierh2 | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

(mohammed's account has been terminated before, this is his new one, please reblog his posts if possible)

Sondos @sondos220 | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

Yaser Mohammad @yasermohammad | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Majed (deactivated account, was @majedgaza1. post gone but was vetted previously, let me know if there's been changes) | gofundme link

Juliet (deactivated account, was @keensaladbanana. previously unvetted, images reverse image checked and gfm is donation protected) | gofundme link

Eslam @eslamfamily | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Omar @omerfathi | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

Maria @maria-mahdy | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Mohamad Smeer @mohamadsmeer34 | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Abd Alhadi @abedalhdihesham, previous account terminated | post (vetted recently) | gofundme link

Aseel @aseelo680 | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Aya @ayayassir | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Mohi @mohiy-gaza | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Bilal @shadowyavenuetaco | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Amira (deactivated, was @amira-world. unsure of any new accounts) | post lost, unsure if vetted | gofundme link

Kefah @kefahfamily | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Doaa @free-gaza2 | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Doaa/Fidaa @fedao (unsure if both this and above accounts are the same person, different gfms) | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Munna @monashamali90 | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Falestine Yousef @falestine-yousef | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Mohammed Tayseer @yazanfamilly | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Atallah Family @mohammed-atallah | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Abdel Muti Al-Habil @abdelmutei | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Ahmed @ahmadresh | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Mahmoud Ayyad @mahmoudayyad | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Mohammad Bakroun @save-salam-family | posts on tumblr deleted, unsure if vetted | gofundme link

Mohammed Hijazi (deactivated account, was @save-hijazi-family2) | posts lost, vetted previously | gofundme link

Haya @hayanahed | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Sameer Al Khaldi (deactivated, was @sameer-24) | post lost, unsure if vetted | gofundme link

Ehab Ayyad @ehabayyad23 | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

Islam @islamgazaaccount2 | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Aya (deactivated account, was @ayaalanqarsblog) | post lost, unsure if vetted | gofundme link

Raneen (deactivated account, was @ranin3344) | post lost, unsure if vetted | gofundme link

Tamer Aldeeb @tameraldeebs-blog | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Laila @lailashaqoura | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Majed | @majedalgherbawi, was previously @majedgaza1 | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

Shadia @shadiafamily | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Ahmed Halas @ahmedhellis22 | post (unvetted, legit images) | gofundme link

Khalid's Sisters @khalid-sisters (and relatives of @olagaza) | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Mohammed Al-Habil @aya2mohammed and @alhabil | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Lubna @lobnaalseer | post (vetted) | gofundme link

Ali Miqdad @alimeq92 | post (vetted) | gofundme link

--

thank you for taking the time to read this, i hope this post helps all who i've tagged. please let me know if i've messed up any links or account tags, and please reblog! from the river to the sea!

POST LAST UPDATED: 9/26/24

[floofanflurr]

“PAIN BUILDS CHARACTER, YOU KNOW! AND IT SEEMS LIKE YOU ARE IN DIRE NEED OF SOME OF THAT. I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL HELP YOU!”

(He’s pissed.)

1000 Follower Draw This in Your Style!

Rules, details, and prize below the cut!

Hello!!! Hi!!! I can't believe I made it to 1000 followers? Insane, honestly. I've been putting off the DTIYS for a couple months as I deal with some real life stuff, but I really wanted to do this piece as a DTIYS. Thanks so much for following me!

Rules:

Have fun! It doesn't have to be this exact pose or angle. Wanna add blasters? Do that. Wanna give him a sword instead? Heck YES. As long as it's Classic Papyrus protecting Frisk, then it counts!

Don't trace/steal other people's art. No AI.

Please @ me and tag your art #Protective Papyrus DTIYS. If you post it somewhere else, please let me know on tumblr so I can still see it!

Anyone can participate!

But!!! As a thank you for following me and also for participating in this, for my followers, there is a couple prizes!

Who qualifies?

Any of my followers on tumblr! They also have to post the dtiys art on tumblr, and tag it with #Protective Papyrus DTIYS and properly @ me. If you're seeing this, and you don't follow me, you can always follow now!

I also need to be able to DM you if you win!

Who will be the winners?

One randomly selected person!

And! My favorite image at the end!

Detail about winning prizes:

Each winner will get a drawing! (It is not allowed to be used for commercial purposes) One to two characters of your choice, waist up. Plain/simple background. (I have full rights to deny any request I am uncomfortable drawing, and to ask for a different request. Please be respectful.)

Fair warning that my art is a mixed bag when it comes to quality and style - especially when I'm not drawing Undertale, if you do decide to ask for character(s) outside of the fandom.

I will do my best to draw any characters I am unfamiliar with (including OCs!) but I will need plenty of references.

Please remember that I am a person and this is for fun. I have full rights to stop interacting with anyone that is rude or disrespectful.

Deadline?

November 30th, 2024 11:59PM Central Time

This is the cutoff for if you want to be considered for winning a prize - but please feel free to continue to draw this in your style even after this timeframe passes as long as you tag it #Protective Papyrus DTIYS and @ me.

Have fun!!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: I love writing toxic people.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

“Mr. Hansen--” You begin, choking on your error, “Lloyd, my flight--” 

“Christ, I told you, cancel it. I’ll add the difference to your next check,” he grits under his breath. 

You plant your feet, shifting despite your effort as he keeps his grip on your hand. He turns back with a grunt. 

“What’re you doing?” He asks. 

“No, what are you doing?” You throw back. “What the hell is going on?” 

“First, watch that sweet mouth of yours. Second, we’ve been through this, Pixie pie. You just need to play along,” he keeps his voice low and peeks over his shoulder. “Loosen up a bit.” He loosens his hold on you and runs his hand up your sleeve. “Hm, I guess I shoulda told you to dress up a bit.” 

“What?” You look down at your black cotton tea-length dress. You chose it for comfort but it’s not entirely frumpy. The ribbed stockings might not add much to the attire however. 

“Just...” He grabs your shoulders and nudges them back, “push the chest out a bit.” 

“Ugh,” you clasp onto his wrists, “stop. Okay. I’ll stay for dinner but I can’t miss my flight--” 

“You have to,” he argues. 

“You realise this is wildly inappropriate,” you say. 

“Do you really expect anything different?” He tweaks a brow. “You’re staying. I’m not doing this alone. I put it off for a decade already--” 

“Jesus--” 

“No blasphemy either,” he lets go of you and presses his finger to your lips. You growl and shove his hand away. 

“I want a bonus, a big bonus--” 

He hushes you and waves his hands. He leans back and once more looks over his shoulders. “Later. We’ll deal with numbers in private. Right now, you need to come meet your in-laws.” 

You squint at him. It’s an act, you remind yourself, but something about his commitment to it makes you uneasy. You know better than to believe a word that comes out of his mouth but there’s a degree of earnestness in him that’s unsettling. 

“Baby, please, don’t look at me like that,” he steps closer, “I need you to look at me like I’m the second coming, okay? We’re madly in love, you and I.” Your eyes widen and he sighs, “okay, you’re not scared of me.” 

You neutralise your expression and blow out a long breath. You shake away the tension and shrug. It’s as good as you can do. 

“Here,” he grabs your wrist and turns, guiding your arm through his, “just smile pretty for me.” 

He hooks your elbow with his and urges you onward. You steel yourself for the room of strangers as their voices drift through the archway.  

You enter the front room and quickly scan the space; there’s a large-mouthed hearth, lit and draped in evergreen and berries; a long cream sectional, a matching duo of armchairs, and a chaise in the same shade; a low glass coffee table with a golden perch and a console table in a similar style along the wall crowded with bottles and crystal; an area rug in a smooth white with patterns in dulcet beige and rich butterscotch; and the low din is cast by tea lights daintily set around the space in glass holders and candelabra. 

More pressing than the decor are the bodies that fill the room. You recognise Ransom as he speaks with an older woman with short white hair and thick-framed glasses. She wears a red pantsuit with a gold blouse. Very festive. 

You glance over at Lloyd and take him in fully. You hadn’t paid much attention for the whirlwind all around. He wears a pair of evergreen slacks and a sweater with a reindeer's face on the front. He wouldn’t even let you put tinsel on your desk but now he’s dressed like a kid in a holiday parade. 

“Looks like someone didn’t get the memo,” a tall blonde woman approaches with a glass of pale wine in hand. You try not to look with concern at her rounded middle; it sticks out starkly as her long limbs are thin and lithe. “A very grim Christmas indeed.” 

“Lillian,” Lloyd faces the woman about his own height. She has his eyes and his lips. You assume their relation before he declares it. “My sister, Pixie,” he gestures to her carelessly. 

“Older sister,” she preens and rests her hand on her swollen stomach. Your eyes flick away from the crystal in her hand. 

“By about thirty-one seconds,” Lloyd scoffs. 

“Oh, sweetie, it’s non-alcoholic,” she swirls the wine in her glass, “she’s so tiny and quiet.” 

“Ahem,” you clear your throat, “it’s nice to meet you.” 

She laughs, “oh, so polite. Entirely not his type.” 

You try not to react. You agree. You know the women that Lloyd really likes. You’ve screened their calls until they just give up on getting a second date. 

“Believe it or not, Lil, you’re not everyone’s type,” Lloyd retorts. “I think your ex-husband would agree. The second one too.” Lloyd lifts his chin and looks around, “is the third here or are we on number four?” 

“Lovely,” she spits. “Love you too, brother.” 

He shakes his head and draws you away from her. She raises her brows and her glass and sips. You let him take you away. You already despise most of these people. The room radiates with derision. Your family might have some grudges but there’s a general air of good will. 

“I need a drink,” he mutters. 

You gladly follow him to the table. He pours himself a tumbler from the boxy decanter. He sighs as he picks it up but stops himself from drinking. 

“Well, help yourself,” he says. 

You hesitate but not for long. You need something if you’re going to get through this. You pour yourself some chardonnay and sidle away from the table. You check your watch as you raise your glass. 

“Don’t fucking worry about your flight,” he hisses under his breath. “If I’m not getting out of this, you aren’t either.” 

“But why?” You ask behind the glass. 

“Not right now,” he warns and nods at another figure as they approach. “Uncle Benson.” 

“Junior,” the man returns. You drink your wine and don’t comment on the epithet. “Where’s the old man?” 

“Where he always is,” Lloyd replies. 

“Mm, and this is...” the older man looks at you pointedly, dipping his chin to do so. 

“Pixie. My fiancee,” Lloyd answers dully, almost deflating. 

“Benson,” the man offers his hand, “but a pretty girl like you can call me Benny.” 

“Benny,” Lloyd repeats to himself in confusion. 

You shake Benson’s hand, “um, thanks, nice to meet you.” 

“Mm, very nice to meet you,” he lifts your hand and smushes his lips to your knuckles. He clings to you, petting your hand. “You’re gorgeous, what’re you doing with this lump?” 

“Uncle,” Lloyd drones. 

“Adorable,” Benson inches closer, “my inheritance is bigger than his, among other things.” 

“Alright,” Lloyd snatches your hand away from him, “go have some water, Benson,” he growls, “think you’ve been into the brandy.” 

“I’d like to get into something else,” Benson snickers. 

You almost laugh, despite your disgust. You’ve heard that line before. Lloyd puts himself between you and the older man. “I think that’s why Carolyn filed the papers, huh.” 

“Oh, you little twat,” Benson snarls. “Fine, fine, I’ll leave you to disappoint her on your own.” 

Lloyd tuts and shakes his head as the man lumbers off. He turns around and drains his glass. It’s strange, seeing him in his natural habitat; he’s not so ‘alpha’ here. 

“Let’s get the rounds over with.” He grumbles. 

Your wine lasts you through the introductions. Two more uncles; Carter and Linus, along with their wives, Andrea and Angela. Then the full-blooded aunts; four of them, Raquel, Shanna, Beatrice, and Lana. All of them tall, blonde, and bold in their own way. Then a batch of cousins you can’t keep sorted; Ransom and his mother Linda, among them, with no explanation as to the rest of their tribe. 

Lloyd pours himself more whiskey. You abstain from a refill and stand near the wall, observing the wilderness of entitled trust-funders. It explains so much yet inspires so many more questions. You never expected Lloyd to be the dark horse. 

“Lonely?” The timbre startles you along with the twisting pinch on your ass.  

You yipe and snag the attention of several sets of eyes around the room, not least of all Benson, drooling over another snifter of dark alcohol. You swat Ransom’s hand away and face him amid the row of laughter. Despite the airs they put on, your audience is more amused than appalled. 

“Where’s your prince, huh?” Ransom asks. “All that whiskey and...” He holds up his index then lets it go limp, “don’t think it’ll be a very peppy after party, sweetheart.” 

You sniff and cross your arms. These people are at least consistent, grossly so. It makes you wonder why Lloyd was so insistent that you watch your mouth, especially when you’ve never stooped to his level before. 

“Is it much of a party if there’s only one attendee?” You counter. 

He narrows his eyes and tilts his head, “what?” 

“Nothing,” you shake our head. You don’t need to explain the joke. Besides, this is all fake. Don’t let it get to you. 

“So, how long did he wait to put that ugly thing on your finger?” Ransom asks. 

You shrug, “long enough.” 

“Did he do the whole schtick? Get down on one knee? Put the ring in your wine glass?” He prods. 

“I’ll let him tell the story,” you say. 

“Hm, never knew a woman so unexcited about a wedding,” he snorts. 

“Maybe I’m just unexcited by my company,” you back away as his hand jiggles at his side. You eye his fingers, wary of another pinch. 

“Fine, marriage is boring anyways. What’s his favourite position? I always figured he lets the ladies do all the work,” he snickers. 

You stare at him. Not quite as offended as annoyed. You could ask him which hand he uses but you are not letting Lloyd drag you that low. Why are you even letting him put your through this? 

“Hugh,” Lloyd appears and slides his arm over your shoulders. 

“Little L,” Ransom retorts dryly. 

“Shut up,” Lloyd sneers as you resist the urge to shrug him off of you. 

“Where were you then? Leaving your woman all on her lonesome,” Ransom rubs his fingers together subtly and you scowl at him. 

“Broke the seal,” Lloyd deflects. “What do you care? You wanna hold it next time? 

“Hands are too big,” Ransom cackles. 

“Speaking of,” you pipe up. “The bathroom, where would that be?” 

Lloyd clucks and looks down at you, “down the hall, opposite the kitchen.” 

“Thanks,” you carefully slip away from him, “I’ll be back.” 

“Wait,” Lloyd catches your arm and pulls you back. “Not without this.” 

He leans in before you can react. He bends to press his lips to yours and you can’t repress a surprised squeak. He purrs and the vibration makes your skin crawl. What on earth?! 

You part and ignore the stares you can feel all around. Not just from Ransom but the rest of the room. What is he doing? That’s so embarrassing. 

You force a smile, “uh, be back.” 

You spin and scurry away. That room, those people, are suffocating, and Lloyd, not least of all. You hide in the bathroom, locking the door, and you take the moment of stillness to think. Big mistake as it all starts to set in. 

You drove all the way here under false pretenses. It’s believable that Lloyd would forget to bring the gifts. That tracks but this? The whole pretending to be engaged? What is his game? Is he really trying to impress anyone or is he torturing you? Why? 

You can’t figure any of it out. You gave up trying to understand your boss ages ago, you suppose you should do the same with these people and just get through this. For all your trouble, the food better be fucking delicious. 

You let yourself out of the bathroom and flatten against the door as you nearly collide with another person. Lillian nearly stomps right over you as she holds her stomach and rushes down the hallway. She lets out a sigh. 

“Oh, are you done in there? I’m splitting at the seams,” she trills. 

“Um, yeah, all done,” you sidle away from the door. 

“Could I trouble you for some help?” She asks. “This thing,” she pats her stomach, “I can get down but I can’t get up.” 

“Hm?” You furrow your brow in confusion, “help?” 

“We’re both girls,” she giggles. “And we’ll be sisters soon enough, won’t we?” 

“Um.” 

“You know, a pregnancy at my age, I really can’t strain myself,” she explains. 

“Oh, er, I guess--” 

“Thanks, sweetie,” she nudges you back into the bathroom. You have no choice as she heard you through. 

You stare at the wall as she slams the door and hustles over to the toilet. She pulls up her white dress and turns to sit, her silhouette a blur in your peripheral. You flick your eyes to the ceiling and bounce on your heels. 

Her stream flows out and fills the tense silence. She sighs. 

“Thank the lord,” she groans. “I swear, the little twerp is right on my bladder right now.” 

“Mm,” you nod and glance at the door. 

“I knew we should’ve gone with a surrogate,” she sniffs. “A piece of advice, when he puts one in you, make him suffer.” 

“Puts one...” you blink. “Um, I don’t...” 

“I mean, he’ll have to start trying as soon as the wedding night,” she laughs. “He’s getting up there. His swimmers won’t be as fast, will they? And the way he drinks, they’ll be too groggy to know which way is which.” 

“Um, we’ll worry about the wedding first--” 

“Enjoy it. Once you’re tied down, it’s not very much fun,” she says as she tears of tissue. “Alright then, darling, I need you.” 

You do your best not to see all of her. She reaches for you and you get close. You pull her up to her feet and she squeezes past you to the sink. You look at the toilet and shut the lid, flushing it with a push of the button. She washes her hands with a hum. 

“You’ll be so adorable when you’re big. Like an overstuffed teddy bear,” she chimes. “He’ll love that. He always did hate feeling small.” She twists off the faucet and dries her hands. “You must make him feel like the man he wishes he was.” 

You just look at her. You have no true reason to defend Lloyd, but because she’s so smug it irks you. You look her in the face, even if you feel ridiculous having to look up. 

“Well, he can piss on his own, so I think he’s just fine,” you step around her and swing open the door. The silence that follows you is the only satisfying thing about that night. 

[thewritingrowlet]

The Crazy Lesbians pt. 2, ft. tripleS Sohyun, Xinyu

same thumbnail because why not

tags: creampie, dp, anal, cunnilingus, (a bit of) domination play

length: 9k+

author's note: the company I'm working for paid for and sent me on a data science bootcamp, so I haven't had much time writing, but somehow I managed to finish this. Let me know what you think about this one.

---

Sohyun was supposed to sleep in your bedroom with her girlfriend, but instead, she’s on the sofa, cuddling you through the night. Her limbs are wrapped around different parts of your body the same way yours are around her.

“Baby,” you softly call to her in a coarse, sleepy voice, “good morning.” Sohyun hums, still around 70% asleep if you were to guess. “I don’t know how much time I have left, but I love you.” “Huh? What are you talking about?” You give her pets on the back. “We’ll return to our lives soon, and we probably won’t get to do this again.” Sohyun lifts her head, looking at you with half-open eyes. “Are we not welcome in your place ever again?” “Of course you are,” you say. “Then there’s no need for such bullshit—especially not this early.” You peck the top of her head in apology. “I’m sorry for that, baby.”

Sohyun gathers her might and moves to lie square on your body. “Daddy,” she calls to you, “I love you.” You chuckle. “We’re not dropping the names?” She grunts. “Why? You don’t like it?” “Baby, c’mon,” you start stroking her back gently, “I was just playing—of course, I like it.” “Good,” she says, “because we’re not dropping it ever; it’s easier like this.” Also, to ensure “safety,” you ask her to remember to only say it in private settings, and she agrees to your request.

Sohyun asks you to check up on Xinyu, so you make your way to your bedroom. When you open the door, you see that Xinyu has her long limbs splayed all over the bed while her mouth is wide open. “Sweetie,” you slap her cheek lightly to get her attention, “good morning.” “Good—” A yawn interrupts her sentence. “Good morning, daddy.” “Are you ready to wake up, sweetie?” Xinyu opens her arms wide. “Carry me to mommy, please.”

You carry Xinyu like a koala and take her to Sohyun, who is still chilling on the sofa. “Mommy,” Xinyu calls to her, “good morning.” Sohyun laughs. “Now that we have someone to call daddy, it’s starting to feel like a small family—it’s just that we’re all the same age.” You lower Xinyu onto her mommy. “And we’re gay, and you’re our third wheel,” she adds.

“Not just that, but mommy, daddy, and baby have sex with each other; we are one problematic family,” you pile on the final punchline.

-

You arrive at your go-to breakfast spot with Sohyun and Xinyu for some toast and coffee, which are Sohyun’s favorite breakfast items.

“Changmin-ah,” she’s clever to not use the names outdoors, “what do you want to have?” “An iced latte, a peanut butter toast, and some dumplings, please.” After relaying your order to the staff, she turns her attention to Xinyu, who says that she’d like to have the same things Sohyun is having.

Sohyun joins you and Xinyu at the table after ordering for the crew. “Do we have anything to talk about?” Before speaking, you look around the establishment to check where people are—there are that two women near the door, a few tables away from you, and also that group of four close to them, so no one is going to hear your conversations.

“Alright, we’re safe,” you say, “how’s your ass, baby?” “Oh my God,” Xinyu reacts, “are you that curious?” “Well, yeah—it was your first time after all.” “Well, I loved it; it was painful at first, but my God was it hot.” Xinyu quickly covers her face in shyness. “You’re okay now, though, right?” Xinyu nods. “L-let’s talk about something else, please.”

A text from Sohyun seizes your attention. “Fuck my ass tonight, daddy,” the text says. “Baby, look at this,” you whisper as you show Xinyu your phone, “mommy is very naughty, don’t you think?” Xinyu covers her red face behind her palms. “S-she is, daddy,” she replies, “a-and it’s because of you.” You lean closer towards her. “Yeah? What do you think I should do to her, baby?” “Tie her down, daddy, and shove your cock into her holes,” she whispers to you, covering her face as she does so that Sohyun doesn’t catch it. There’s a naughty smirk on your face and one of similar nuance on Sohyun’s. You unlock your phone to reply to her text. “We’re going to have so much fun today, baby.”

Food arrives at your table, thus snapping you out of your nasty trance. “Well then, let’s eat, girls,” you say as you help the staff distribute food. You take a sip of your latte. “Mm, that’s good,” you say, “are you girls alright?” Xinyu nods enthusiastically at the taste of her toast and iced americano. Sohyun, on the other hand, is silent, seemingly detached from the situation. You reach for her hand that’s on the table and tap it gently. “Are you okay?” Sohyun smiles a bit and says that she just had some thoughts. “Pay attention to her, daddy; the last time she had some thoughts, we ended up in your bed,” Xinyu warns.

Nothing extraordinary happens during breakfast, as everyone was busy munching and sipping. “Are we ready to leave, then?” The two girls say they are, so you stand up and make your way out of the place with them (after paying, of course). “You can drive, can’t you?” Xinyu says she can, so you take a seat in the second row with Sohyun because you want to address whatever thoughts are clouding her mind—if she’d let you, that is.

“Sweetheart,” your voice is as gentle as intended, “would you like to talk about it?” Sohyun takes your hands in hers. “It’s my brother’s birthday, Changmin-ah, but we’re not on the best terms,” she starts. “I was just reminiscing our old relationship—you know, before I came out and all that.” “It’s difficult when it’s family, isn’t it?” She sighs. “It is, but at the same time, he’s a decent guy; at one point, it felt like he was concerned about my well-being more than his moral correctness,” she says.

You notice that Xinyu keeps stealing glances via the rear-view mirror, so you stick out your tongue playfully every time she looks at you to lighten the mood. You then turn your attention back to Sohyun. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you that you’re fine and you’re loved, but if you want to do anything for your brother, let me know.” Sohyun shakes her head. “It’s fine, I’ll just let him be,” she says.

-

You take a seat on the sofa after extending it. “Daddy, can I use your computer? I have some assignments.” You see that Xinyu has her tablet in hand. “Sure, baby—password is 020202,” you say. While Xinyu makes her way to your bedroom to use the computer, Sohyun joins you on the sofa, and without saying a word, she cuddles you from the side.

“Hi, sweetie,” you give her a peck on the top of her head, “you want to watch something?” Sohyun says that she’ll watch whatever you put on, so you play this documentary video on Pallas’s cats that the documentary dubs as the Masters of the Plains.

“The great plains of Mongolia,” the narrator starts, “home to a surprising feline: the Pallas’s cat.” “Baby, look,” you point at the screen, which shows the small head of a Pallas’s cat behind some foliage. Sohyun giggles when a drone footage of a cat running across the vast plain is shown. “Where is the car going,” she quips. “It’s got places to be, babe,” you reply. She squeals and slaps your chest repeatedly when the video transitions to a shot of kittens running towards the camera. “Oh my God, this is going to be so much fun.”

Sohyun is quiet during the first few minutes of the documentary, and honestly, it’s reasonable; there is no Pallas’s cat to be seen yet. She giggles a little when a biologist pulls out a cat from its burrow and holds it in the air, putting into perspective the size of this friend-shaped predator. “Aww, look at the tummy,” she comments. She continues giggling when the cat, after being measured and released, starts sprinting away from the biologist and his crew.

You find yourself giggling with her as clips of the cat roaming around the snow-covered plains looking for prey are shown on screen—there’s something about the way the cat runs that you and Sohyun find cute. Eventually, in its exhausted state, the cat plops down onto the snow while its gaze is aimed at the camera rather comedically. The biologist from earlier says that lying flat on the ground is one of the cat’s defensive mechanisms, as it allows it to blend with the background. “Yeah, I don’t know about that—I mean, that brown fur is perfectly visible in the snow,” you say. “Yeah, well, you’re not part of the diet,” she counters.

A timelapse of a Pallas’s cat hiding from its predators by lying still, its face covered in snow, and occasionally sticking its tongue out makes Sohyun’s giggles become louder. “Oh my God, look at that kitty,” she points at the screen, “that must be cold, right, babe?”

You and Sohyun continue watching in silence, paying full attention to the documentary as if you were going to take a quiz after it’s done. That said, you make sure to mix in pecks and pets here and there. “I love you, baby,” you whisper. She lets out a deep exhale. “I love you too.”

Soon, Sohyun slaps your chest to get your attention. This time, a mama cat and her 5 kittens are shown on screen. The narrator speaks about how the family of cats have to move every few days because if they don’t, they’ll run out of food eventually. As they move, the mama cat keeps looking back to make sure no kitten is left behind, which is cute to see. “Wow, they can travel that far with those small legs? That’s crazy.”

“But with only so much rocky terrain to choose from, it’s easy to unexpectedly bump into neighbors,” the narrator says, “two families appeared to have chosen the same spot.” Sohyun tightens her grip on your arm. “Oh, please don’t fight—j-just share the spot with your neighbors, please.” Her tenseness dies down momentarily when a kitten is seen sprinting straight towards the camera crew with its tiny legs. “Bravely, the kitten gets as close as three meters from the camera,” the narrator adds. ”Then, perhaps after sensing the crew’s presence, it thinks better of it and turns to run.” It is when it’s back near its previous spot when the other kittens start swarming it, welcoming it back after such a brave adventure. Finally, as the kittens begin running further from the camera, the narrator explains that the two families are living alongside each other contently for now, and Sohyun is no longer uptight.

Xinyu comes out of your bedroom at some point near the end of the documentary and joins you and Sohyun on the sofa. “Mommy, daddy,” it looks like she likes those names, “I just finished my assignment; tell me you’re proud of me.” You pull her in for a cuddle on the other side that’s vacant. “I’m proud of you, baby,” you peck her on the top of her head. “Watch this with us, baby—it’s about to end, though.”

“Look here, there’s a steppe eagle’s feather,” the biologist says. The camera is then pointed at the remains of what is said to be a young female cat that the biologist has been keeping an eye on for research purposes. “Only 30% of young cats reach a year old, and there’s no guarantee the others will survive the winter,” the narrator piles on. “Damn, I joined during the sad part,” Xinyu says.

“As aggressive predators, these cats have passed down skills from mother to kitten seen in no other species of feline, yet they must be cautious enough to avoid becoming prey themselves. They are the true masters of the Mongolian plains.” Finally, the documentary ends with a drone footage of a cat roaming the frozen flats in its lonesome, looking for prey while avoiding whatever danger is lurking.

“That was cool,” Sohyun speaks her mind, “thanks, daddy.” “You’re welcome, sweetie,” you peck her forehead, and that is when you hear Xinyu whine. “I won’t forget you, baby.” You give Xinyu a peck on the forehead like you did Sohyun. “Is there anything else you want to watch?” “No,” Sohyun yawns, “let’s just chill like this.” She says she wants to chill, but Xinyu places a hand on your crotch. “Yah, did you not hear what mommy said?” Xinyu slowly moves her hand away from your cock, but you’re already hard because of it. “You’re going to face repercussions later, Miss Zhou.”

-

Sohyun has fallen asleep on the sofa at some point, and Xinyu thinks that it’s time to have fun. “Daddy,” she whispers, “don’t you want to touch me while mommy is asleep?” “Baby—” “Please, daddy, I want to have you to myself,” she insists. You look to your right; man, Sohyun is so pretty and elegant even when sleeping. “Alright, okay—I’ll join you in the bedroom after this,” you decide to give Xinyu what she wants. Once she gets off the sofa and leaves, you gently free the right side of your body from Sohyun’s grasp. “I’ll be right back, sweetheart,” you whisper to her.

When you enter your bedroom, you see that your computer is still on. “Daddy, look at my score,” she points at it. You see that she got only one wrong out of 10 questions. “9 out of 10, huh?” “Me smort,” she says, proud of her achievement. You give her nine pecks on the lips, one for each question she got right. “Good job, baby—I’ll give you a present if you get all correct on a quiz next time,” you carefully word your promise, hoping that Xinyu will catch it.

“Can you give me a preview of that present now, daddy?” That is precisely the response you were looking for. Xinyu bites her lip when she sees your bare torso. “God damn,” she quips, “and you use that sexy body to play tennis?” You haven’t played tennis in a minute but yes, you do use this body to play it. “I don’t know, daddy, it feels like you’re playing the wrong fucking sport.” You chuckle. “Hey, at least I can hit the ball harder with these muscles.”

It is when Xinyu exposes her bare torso that you start getting hard (and drooling). “Fuck,” a curse flies out of your lips, “you are insanely hot, baby.” She giggles. “Mommy said the same thing on our first time.” “Does she say that still?” “Occasionally,” she says, “most of the time she just starts touching me as soon as I’m naked.”

You give Xinyu the chance to take off her pants by herself in peace. “I’m ready, daddy.” Initially, you thought about “crashing” into her like uncivilized-like, but after looking at her one more time, you opt to approach her slowly and softly. Putting your hands on her waist, you pull her in for a quick kiss. “I love you, baby.” “I will miss you for sure, daddy.” “You are always welcome here, baby—that is, if you want to see me.” Xinyu kisses you fleetingly. “Unless you give me a reason to hate you, you’ll always have a space in my heart.” You chuckle. “Don’t say that around mommy too much; wouldn’t want to make her jealous, hm?”

Xinyu falls backwards onto the bed, pulling you with her in the process. You gently rub her cheek with your thumb, earning a sweet smile from her. “You make me feel like I was your girlfriend.” “Would you rather be my sex buddy, then?” “I’ll be whatever you want me to, daddy; just tell me what you want.” You tell her that you want to take it slow to start and will pick up the naughtiness as you progress. “Sure, daddy.”

Having been shown the green light, you ease your junior into her pussy with a hand to guide. Xinyu lets out a lengthy moan as more of your shaft enters her until it’s entirely inside. “Oh, yes, daddy—am I tight, by the way?” “Very,” you say breathily, “you’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” “O-only for mommy and daddy,” she replies just as breathily, “n-no one else deserves me.”

After taking a deep breath, you start moving your hips, and more moans start freely flowing out of her lips like water out of a tap. Amongst the moans, she mixes in some “daddy” and “I love you” as well. Xinyu gasps audibly after a particularly deep thrust. “R-right there, daddy, please.” You guess that she wants it as deep as possible, so for the next thrust, you make sure to lodge the entirety of your shaft in her. “Yes, daddy, that’s perfect.”

You maintain this slow pace, savoring the way her sexy moans are entering straight into your eager ears. As she expresses her enjoyment with these whispered words, you softly speak into her ear that’s right next to your mouth how tight and hot she feels around your cock. “Y-you’re so sweet,” she quips, “a-and so big.” You chuckle slightly. “You know how to fuel my ego, don’t you, sweetie?” The way she randomly licks your cheek sends a jolt through your body. “I-I have a secret to tell you, daddy,” she continues, “mommy’s dildos don’t—oh, God—they don’t compare to the real one, daddy.”

Your arousal reaches its peak; Xinyu for sure knows which buttons to press to get the best out of you (and Sohyun, but she’s not in the room). “Daddy,” she calls again, “I-I know how hard you are.” “Yeah?” “Y-yeah, daddy.” “So?” “So, turn it up, please; treat me like a sex buddy—make me scream until mommy wakes up.”

You straighten your posture and flip her onto her stomach, pulling out momentarily so that her long legs don’t hit you on the head. You part her plump butt cheeks to look for your target. “I want this,” you place a finger on her rear hole. “M-make me cum, a-and then I’ll give it to you.” “Deal.”

As soon as your cock is back in her pussy again, you start smashing her roughly, making her scream just like she requested. “Louder,” you spank her, “wake mommy up.” Adhering to your command, Xinyu turns up the volume of her screams, borderline exaggerating her reactions.

You keep fucking Xinyu at this rough pace, tugging her hair—wait, what is that feeling? “What—what the fuck?”  When you look behind, you see Sohyun licking your asshole, thus forcing you to stop. “When did you get here?” She lifts her tongue off shortly to answer you. “Just now, but I’ve been listening from the other side,” she says.

You pull out from Xinyu’s tightness to sort out the situation. “You,” you point at Sohyun, “sit on that stool and watch—touch yourself if you want.” Sohyun nods and makes her way to the stool. “Now you,” you place a hand on Xinyu’s back, “be good.” “Y-yes, daddy.”

 You take a seat on the bed and pull Xinyu onto your lap. “Tell mommy what you’re feeling, baby, okay?” She nods, and that is when you plunge into her warm pussy again. “M-mommy,” she starts right away, “d-daddy is so fucking big in my pussy.” You turn your head to the right so that you can see Sohyun, and would you look at that: she has a hand between her legs. “Keep going, baby,” you whisper to Xinyu as she’s moving along the length of your cock. “I-I’m taking daddy’s big dick like a good girl, mommy,” Xinyu piles on, and you hear a moan from Sohyun; she’s begun touching herself at the sight. “Let’s give mommy something enjoyable to watch, baby.”

With your hands fixed on her waist, you guide Xinyu to bounce on your shaft, and at the same time, you thrust upwards to meet her in the middle. “Mommyyy,” she begins dragging her words, “mommy, he’s fucking me like a sex buddy.” You laugh internally at how she’s phrasing it. “Daddy, daddy,” she shifts her attention to you, her hand reaching backwards towards your nape, “I-I won’t last—oh, fuck, I won’t last too long, daddy.”

You pick up the tempo to the maximum that you’re physically able to reach, highly eager to make Xinyu cum. “Let’s go, baby—let’s fucking go.”

With one last loud scream, Xinyu announces her orgasm, her thighs and legs vibrating violently as she goes flying across the finish line. Xinyu falls feebly onto the bed, going face first onto the pillow that’s thankfully fluffy enough to soften the landing.

Your attention is promptly shifted away from her when you hear splashing sounds from behind. “Oh, you too, baby?” Sohyun tries to get closer to you, but her weak legs just won’t cooperate, so you decide to approach her. “What does a mommy do when her baby makes a mess?” “The-the mommy cleans after the baby, da-daddy,” she answers. “Correct,” you say, “so, what are you waiting for?”

Sohyun takes you in her mouth and runs her tongue along the underside of your cock, making you jump a little when she reaches the spot just before the tip. “Great job, sweetie,” you make sure you don’t forget the praise. “Great fucking job.” Having fixed her hands on your thighs, she keeps bobbing her head along your cock. “How does your baby taste?” “Good, sir,” Sohyun pulls out a new name for you, “I-I like her taste on your cock, sir.” You pet her head gently. “Alright, that’s enough, sweetie.”

Sohyun grabs your leg when you walk away from her. “Don’t cum in her.” “You have my word, baby.” Satisfied, she lets you go, so you continue walking towards the beauty in bed. You stroke your cock aggressively, and with a low moan, you spray cum all over Xinyu’s firm tummy. “I love you, baby girl,” you say in a soft tone.

-

Xinyu is still deep asleep, so you decide to have food delivered here for lunch. Sohyun says she wants a burger and some fries, so that’s what the three of you are having this afternoon.

You lie on the sofa with Sohyun as you wait for the food. “Changmin-ah, I’m not happy that you touched Xinyu before I did,” she doesn’t sugarcoat her words. “I’m sorry,” you don’t know what else to say, “she, erm, she wanted to have sex while you were asleep.” She stays silent for a moment, trying to come up with a reply. “I don’t want to compete with you, Changmin-ah—I can’t compete with you; you have a real penis, but I don’t,” she says.

With the way she’s phrasing it, you realize that she’s worried about losing Xinyu to you because of her double sidedness. You also realize that at one point during the session, Xinyu spoke of how the dildos don’t compare to a real penis. “Yeah, alright,” you say, “I’ll keep that in mind next time.”

When the food arrives, Sohyun goes to the bedroom to get Xinyu while you sort out the dining table situation. You want to greet the sleepy girl as she walks out of your bedroom, but the way Sohyun is glaring at you (it’s also possible that she’s just looking at you with those sharp eyes with no ill intent) stifles your tongue.

“Why is no one saying anything? Did you fight when I was asleep?” Xinyu is quick to pick up the awkwardness in the air. You put on a smile for her. “No, we just had some things to talk about,” you deflect. “Talk, of course.”

Your eyes are locked on the wrapped burgers on the table until Sohyun turns your face towards her. “Can I help you?” Sohyun gives you a flash kiss. “I don’t hate you, just so we’re clear.” You put on another smile for her. “That’s great to hear, sweetheart.”

You decide that you’ve had enough of the awkwardness and grab a burger, followed by Sohyun and Xinyu who do the same. “Enjoy your lunch, girls.” After taking a bite from the juicy cheeseburger, you chase it with a few pieces of fries. Hums fly out of your lips as you savor the glorious taste—there’s a reason why this burger shop always has long lines, especially in the evening. “Babe, relax,” Sohyun snaps you out of your feeding frenzy, “no one is trying to steal that from you.” You hold in a laugh because your mouth is full. “Me plenty hungry,” you say.

The three of you fill the room with conversations about light subjects such as college life and past dating experiences. “So, daddy,” Xinyu says, “what happened to your last girlfriend?” “Well, she left,” you say plainly, “the problem was with me, not her.” “How so?” You sigh. “Well, I didn’t make time for her enough; there was this one week where I was so busy with classes and a bunch of other things, and the only interaction I had with her that week was dinner on Tuesday and Thursday and sex after—I think that pushed her over the edge.” Xinyu nods as she listens to your story. “Well, I figured since I’m still busy with myself, I’ll just spare these girls the bullshit and be alone for now,” you add. “Isn’t that sweet,” Xinyu comments.

After lunch, you go back to the sofa. Xinyu tries climbing your body, but Sohyun gets to you first. “Aaaah, mommy,” Xinyu whines. “No, you’ve had enough fun with him already.” In your head, you guess that this is her way of stopping you and Xinyu from touching each other, so you just let Sohyun do what she wants. “You’re not trying to steal him from me, are you, mommy?” “No,” Sohyun says, “if anything, I’m trying to stop him from stealing you from me.” Xinyu blinks slowly as she processes what she has just heard. “S-stealing me? From you?”

Sohyun gets off your body and takes Xinyu’s hands in hers. “Baby, listen, please,” she begins, “I’ll come clean and say that I’m scared of losing you to him—he has the single thing that I don’t.” “I bet you’re talking about his dick.” “I mean, yeah,” Sohyun admits, “when I had sex with him a few days ago, I told him that you also deserved to feel the same ecstasy I did, so I brought you to him—now, though, I feel like I’m losing you because we all know you play for both sides.”

Xinyu glances at you over Sohyun’s shoulder before shifting her gaze towards her again. “Mommy,” she says, “I must admit that sex with daddy is amazing, but that’s not going to sway me from you—I love you with all my heart, mommy.” Behind Sohyun’s back, you let out a big sigh of relief; Xinyu just assured (wholeheartedly, at that) Sohyun that she’s not losing her girlfriend to you, and you imagine that hearing it directly from Xinyu is as good of a certitude as it gets.

“Oh my God, what the hell am I nervous for?” You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Sohyun slaps your thigh playfully. “If Xinyu leaves me for you, I’ll cut your dick off and feed it to a cat.” You chuckle a little “The Pallas’s cat from earlier?” Sohyun laughs. “Yeah, one of them.”

-

“Huh?”

“Hi, there,” Sohyun’s face is hovering closely over yours. “Good nap?”

“Very,” you say, “very good.”

“Nice, I’m glad.”

“What do you want with me?”

“I want—no, we want your dick.”

Of course, they do; what else would they disrupt your peaceful nap for if not sex?

You say to her that you’ll join them in the bedroom after gathering your consciousness, so Sohyun leaves first while you rub your eyes and get yourself ready to perform in front of these women, and in your head, you’re curious if they always have this much sex on the daily.

Xinyu only has her underwear on when you get to the bedroom while Sohyun is just about to undress herself. “There he is,” Xinyu welcomes you, “you looked cute when you were sleeping, daddy.” “Only when sleeping, huh?” “I mean, yeah—ah, wait, have mercy!” She laughs uncontrollably when you tickle her waist in revenge for the incorrect answer. “You should take on media training; you need to be able to say the correct things, you know.”

You and Xinyu keep exchanging jokes until Sohyun snags your attention by tapping your forearm. “Strip me, daddy.” You drag her towards the wall and hold her hands over her head, trapping her between a rock and a hard place. “Didn’t you see that I was in the middle of a conversation?” Her eyes shake. Intimidated by the sudden change in your attitude. “So-sorry, d-daddy,” she stutters, “I—” You intrude by latching your lips onto the smooth skin of her neck, forcing a moan out of her because of the surprise.

Sohyun starts humping your thigh that is neatly placed between her legs, and you can feel how wet she is through her panties. It is when Xinyu says that she wants a piece of Sohyun that you take her to bed. “What do you think we should do to her, baby?” “I want to fuck her ass, daddy,” Xinyu says, her eyes fiery in lust. She then leans closer towards Sohyun. “A virgin ass must be so fucking tight, isn’t it?” Xinyu drops the naughty charade momentarily to ask if she has Sohyun’s consent, and she does.

As usual, you take your rightful spot on the stool to watch these ladies conduct business. “Ready when you are,” you quip, making Xinyu laugh. She’s probably asking herself why you, a spectator, are seemingly more excited about this than she is. “Mommy, look,” she says, “daddy is horny just from looking at us.”

Sohyun looks at you for a split second before looking back at Xinyu, visibly nervous about getting fucked in the ass for the first time, and you think that this is a good time to step in. “Timeout, ladies—time-fucking-out,” you say. You approach the bed, your eye locked on Sohyun. “Your heart is racing, isn’t it, baby?” “Y-you can tell?” You put on a soft smile as you pet her head. “You’re breathing fast, and your face tells me that you’re nervous.” “Y-yes, I-I’m nervous,” she admits with little argument.

Xinyu promises that she’ll use a lot of lube and be gentle, and for your part, you sit on the bed next to Sohyun and hold her hand through the ass-taking. “Squeeze my hand as much as you want—you can also scream if you want to; we’re safe here.” Sohyun nods slightly as she’s looking at Xinyu, who is busy coating the rubber dick with lube.

Sohyun gasps sharply when she feels the tip poking her rear hole. “G-gently, baby, please,” she begs. “Sure, I’ll try.” Xinyu has no problem speaking since she can’t feel anything, but based on how hard your hand is being squeezed right now, it has to be intense for the anal virgin.

You keep an eye on both Xinyu and Sohyun as the former begins moving in and out of the latter’s asshole. “Daddy,” Xinyu steals your attention, “you didn’t hold me like that when I was getting fucked.” An apology is everything you can come up with, but she doesn’t want words. “I’ll forgive you if you’d lick my ass.” Adhering to her demand, you move behind Xinyu and start eating her ass, earning a long moan from her. “Oh, yeah, that’s it, daddy—eat my ass just like that.”

Amidst your busyness of eating ass and stroking yourself, you can hear that Sohyun’s grunts have been replaced by moans; she must be finding anal enjoyable now that she’s spent a few minutes getting used to having her ass filled.

Shortly after, however, Xinyu tells you that she’s had enough of your service and that she wants you to watch as she “takes mommy to cloud nine.” You return to your throne and wrap your fingers around your cock. “Go on then, baby.”

You’re a bit surprised when Xinyu folds her mommy in half; you didn’t expect her to have the heart to be rough on Sohyun’s first time like this. “You always do this to me, mommy, and today, you’ll learn how to take it.” Sohyun screams very loudly when Xinyu begins fucking her ass roughly, and admittedly, this is very arousing to watch. “God, these girls are insane,” you think.

“You like this, mommy? You like getting fucked in the ass with a fake dick?” Too busy moaning, Sohyun resorts to nodding. “Aren’t you a dirty fucking slut.” Once again, you didn’t know Xinyu had it in her like that, but your hand moves faster along your length, nonetheless, finding the sight hot.

While Sohyun’s hands are busy holding her ankles above her head, Xinyu uses hers to rub the nub without letting up the pace. “Cum for me, mommy—cum for me like you always do.” The moans become louder as Sohyun approaches her orgasm, and with a scream, juice spurts out of her, splashing all over herself and Xinyu. “Good, good,” Xinyu coos, “good job, mommy.” It is when Xinyu pulls out of the freshly fucked ass that you see the gape. “We’re totally not virgins now, mommy.”

You stop stroking yourself to prevent semen from coming out of your cock. “You girls are insane,” you mindlessly utter, still high on arousal. You gasp when Xinyu touches your cock. “You’re still hard, and I have an idea.” “F-fire away.” She looks behind her quickly to check on Sohyun, who is visibly drained. “Fuck me, daddy, and when mommy is ready, I want the both of you.”

After taking off the strap-on, Xinyu drags you towards the bed and bends over. “Fuck me like this, daddy.” “No, no, that won’t do,” you say, “get on the bed, baby; we’ll give mommy a proper show.” She lies on her stomach and makes the time to give Sohyun a quick peck. “Mommy,” she says, “daddy is going to fuck me, so please watch us with full attention, okay?”

You tease Xinyu by poking her asshole with the tip of your cock, making her jump a little. “Not yet, daddy.” “Later, then?” She looks at you with a sexy smile on her face. “Just start already, hm?” You slide your cock into her, and since she’s not spreading her legs, her thicc thighs makes it feel tighter, on top of her already-tight pussy. Xinyu begins moaning audibly, borderline exaggerating her reactions for the sake of Sohyun’s entertainment. “Oh, yes, daddy—fuck, yes.” She screams when your palm lands on her butt a few times.

You think that now is a good time to really get to it; the two of you have warmed up enough, and you, in particular, are really desperate to cum. You plant your knees on the bed on either side of Xinyu’s thighs and start moving your hips back and forth while your cock is lodged in her, earning soft moans from Xinyu, mixed with some high-pitched ones occasionally.

It must be because you’ve stimulated yourself earlier, because you can already feel orgasm approaching quick. “Fuck, I’m sorry, baby,” you say, “I don’t think I can last long.” “D-don’t cum inside, daddy,” Sohyun speaks on Xinyu’s behalf, and you nod in response. You maintain this high pace during the last stretch of this short session while keeping it in the back of your head to pull out when you cum. Noticing that your shaft is throbbing, you pull out and stroke yourself to completion, thus painting Xinyu’s smooth butt with semen. “I love you, baby,” you make sure you don’t forget the sweet words for the girl.

Despite your weak legs, you move to get some wet tissue to clean up both Xinyu and Sohyun. “We’re going to swap the sheets again after this.” “No,” Xinyu rebuts, “I-I want to go again—with mommy and daddy this time.” You guess-timate that you’re still capable of doing another round, but what about Sohyun? You look at her, and she seems to have gathered herself. “You alright, sweetie?” Sohyun simply nods, a small, cute smile decorating her face. “We’ll take a little water break first, and then we can see how we can proceed, okay?”

You leave to get some water from the kitchen, filling a large tumbler for the girls to share and another one that’s smaller for yourself. You mix in some cold water so that it’s more refreshing, especially since everyone is exhausted.

When you return to the bedroom, Sohyun and Xinyu are embracing. “Hello, hello,” you greet them, “is everyone okay?” They look at you with a smile, but Sohyun’s eyes are glassy. “I, uh, just told Xinyu how much I love and cherish her,” she says. “And you’re the one crying, you little softie?” “You know me.” That is right, you do know her; you know it better than most that Sohyun is soft and kind at heart, and it’s solely because of her styling choices that make her look, for a lack of better term, cold.

You hand Sohyun the big tumbler, and she immediately takes a sip. “Oh, that’s nice—thanks, daddy.” She then guides it towards Xinyu and helps her take a sip, getting a peck on the cheek as a reward.

“So, what now?” “Xinyu said she wanted one more round, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea to do it now; she doesn’t look to be in the mood,” you say. Sohyun chuckles a little. “She’s always like that; she’ll say that she wants more but run out of energy after the first round.” Based on how Xinyu isn’t refuting, Sohyun’s words must be right. “I guess we can keep it for later; we still have time, don’t we?” “Yes, we do.”

-

You’re about to boot up a game on your PlayStation when Xinyu jumps on the sofa and puts her head on your thighs. “What are we playing, daddy?” “I’m thinking about a sports game; I don’t feel like thinking too much tonight.” She chuckles. “Never thought I’d hear such words from a Dean’s List guy.” You laugh. “I mean, I use so much brain space for my studies that I don’t want to use more of it to play games.”

You start NBA 2K and jump into a quick match. The game has you take control of the New York Knicks and play against the Brooklyn Nets. On your first possession, while controlling Jalen Brunson, you manage to make a 3-point basket off a catch. “These guys in black could use your help, baby,” you comment, making Xinyu giggle. “Maybe I should consider learning basketball—wait, you play basketball, don’t you?” “I used to but haven’t played in quite some time now.”

At one point in the 3rd quarter, Sohyun joins you and Xinyu on the sofa. “76 to 83, really?” “McBride couldn’t hit a shot to save his life,” you complain, adding a sigh to emphasize your annoyance. “Excuses, excuses.” In a moment of desperation with a few seconds to go in the 3rd, you do a little pick-and-roll with Brunson and McBride, and finally, you manage to make a long-range shot with him. “Goodness me, that was so frustrating.”

Sohyun says she wants to make a bet with you, and the term is that if she can win the game with a margin of at least 10 points, you’ll do something for her, and if she can’t, she’ll do something for you. You hand the controller over to her. “Do your worst, baby.” Sohyun is quite experienced in playing video games, specifically NBA 2K, so the chance of success for her is actually decent. It’s just a matter of whether she can make shots to not only come back from the deficit but also get a 10-point lead.

She immediately goes quiet after making the first layup, putting on her signature “I’m fully concentrating” face that includes a little pout. “Look at her, babe,” you say to Xinyu who then laughs at the sight. Sohyun mumbles something, seemingly annoyed, when Jericho Sims fails to score a contested attempt near the basket. “Oof, unfortunate, Miss Park,” you tease her. She gives you a short glare before turning her focus back on the game.

Sohyun is currently going on a scoring run, and with less than 2 minutes left, she’s up by 6 points. Similar to how you did it with Miles McBride, she does a rolling screen and follows it up with a 3-point attempt with Karl-Anthony Towns. “Oh, God, please go in.” The ball rattles around the rim for a moment before going through the net, and you swear that all three of you let out a sigh of relief at the same time. “Don’t bottle it now, Sohyun-ah,” you say.

Unfortunately for her, however, Cam Thomas manages to slip through the defense for a layup, which means that she’ll need 3 points on the other end of the court to win the bet. You notice that she’s gripping the controller harder as she tries to use the little time she has left in the game to get that 10-point lead. With Jalen Brunson leading the team across the court, she calls for another screen with Towns, but instead of using it to go towards the paint, she backs off and takes a shot from the 3-point area. “Oh my God,” she says, out of breath, “I made it—I won the bet.” You want to say that she technically hasn’t won the game yet, but you don’t want to point that out and potentially ruin her mood. “Congratulations,” you reply, “so, what do you want?”

Sohyun sets the controller down gently on the table in front of the sofa. “Well, why don’t we have sex one more time?” “That’s a lot of sex in a day,” you comment. “Surely you’re strong enough for it—also, I won the bet.” You see that Xinyu is looking at you, waiting for you to say the correct response. “Yeah, alright,” you say, “let’s have sex, then.”

You follow her back to your bedroom, and when you’re right in front of your bed, Sohyun plants her hands on your chest, making you tumble backwards onto it. “Watch me strip.” She wastes little time getting rid of her clothes, letting them scatter on the bedroom floor for the nth time this weekend. “One day, if we have time, I’ll invite you over and we won’t wear anything indoors; we’ll just have sex whenever and wherever,” she says. “Shit, that sounds crazy.”

In the corner of your vision, you notice that Xinyu is joining you and Sohyun in the room. “Sorry, but daddy is mine, baby.” “W-what are you going to do with him, mommy?” “I’m going to take him in my ass.” Her words make you hard instantly, so you move to undress yourself quickly. “Look at him, he must be excited.”

Seeing that you’ve ridden of your clothes, Sohyun jumps onto your lap, your erect cock pressed against her firm tummy. “This is going to hurt like a bitch, isn’t it, daddy?” “I mean, lube can help with that.” She scoffs. “Where’s the fun in that?” “Well, where’s the fun in painful sex?” Your counter makes her roll her eyes, and you’re unsure what it means.

You get some idea when Sohyun lifts her butt and takes you in her pussy; she’s probably suggesting that her pussy will be able to coat your shaft before it goes in her ass. “Oh, that’s so hot.” “Better than a dildo, hey?” “Much better,” she whispers, creating goosebumps all over your body. It is when she begins fucking herself on your cock that moans start flowing out of her parted lips.

You almost want to protest when she removes you from her pussy. “That should be enough lube,” she says. Sohyun then pulls you onto your feet, bends over, and spreads her butt to expose her puckered hole. “Fuck my ass, daddy.” You add more lube onto your cock in the form of spit, hoping that it’ll be easier for both of you to do this. “Here I go, then.”

With your tip poking her rear, you move forwards and force your way into Sohyun’s ass. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck.” You spank her a few times, and she lets out more dirty words in response. “Oi,” you turn briefly to Xinyu, “watch us and don’t touch yourself, or else.” Having fixed your hands on her waist, you start fucking Sohyun’s ass recklessly, and based on the sound of her moans, it’s nearly too much for her, but fuck it, it was her idea to not use proper lube.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy,” she chants mindlessly amidst the clapping sounds, “you’re in my ass, daddy.” Her tight ass stifles your tongue, making you unable to respond verbally, so you use your shaft to do the talking, and that is when Sohyun starts screaming out loud as if it was her first time all over again.

You don’t how long you’ve been pounding her ass like—wait, what on Earth is that sound? Your attention is seized when you hear splashing sounds on the floor. “You’re really squirting from this, huh?” Sohyun nods weakly against the mattress. “I-it’s too fucking good, daddy.”

You pull out of her tight ass and flip her onto her stomach. “You have two choices to atone for the mess right now: one is to continue getting fucked in the ass until I cum, and the other is to fuck Xinyu with me until I cum.” Sohyun’s lips form a naughty smile. “Let’s fuck Xinyu together, daddy; she said she wanted it, didn’t she?”

Xinyu looks at you nervously. “B-both of you a-at the same time?” “You asked for it, remember?” She did, but now that she’s about to get it, she’s getting nervous. “No longer interested in being a good girl for mommy and daddy?” Xinyu grabs the strap-on from the bedside table and hands it over to Sohyun. “I-I’ll always be good for mommy and daddy.”

You help Sohyun get onto her feet and put on the sex toy while Xinyu positions her naked self in the middle of the bed. “So, do you want to be in her pussy or ass?” “I’ll fuck her pussy first, and then we can swap,” Sohyun says.

Before you start this wild session, you make sure Xinyu is on board first. “Baby, I know we’ve been acting weird, but do you consent?” She nods slightly. “Y-yes, b-but I’m nervous.” You put on a soft smile for her, in contrast of your hard cock. “Mommy will do it first, and I’ll join after, okay?” “O-okay, daddy.”

Sohyun lies in bed, and Xinyu moves to sit on the fake dick, moaning as more of it enters her body. You let her get comfortable with Sohyun before even thinking about joining. Based on how fast she’s bouncing on Sohyun’s lap, you guess that she must be pretty damn horny from watching the two of you earlier.

“Daddy,” Xinyu turns her head to see you, “I’m ready now.” You take a spot behind her and aim your cock at her rear. “If you want to stop, just scream, okay?” She gives you a nod, and that is when you negotiate your shaft into her, going deep right away. “Oh, oh, God, fuck,” she scrunches her forehead, overwhelmed by how stuffed she is. “Fuck, I-I’m so full.” You slowly move your cock back and forth in her ass, and as high-pitched moans escape Xinyu’s lips in abundance, Sohyun starts moving too.

“P-please,” Xinyu says, “fuck me, please—fuck me, fuck me!” You and Sohyun try to maintain this alternating combination where the two of you take turns thrusting into Xinyu. Among the loud moans, sometimes Xinyu lets out hisses too, especially when it’s your turn to thrust into her. “My ass—fuck, my ass is on fire, daddy.” “I know,” is your answer, because the way her muscles are gripping your cock hampers your brain’s capabilities like none other.

“T-timeout.” Xinyu moves forwards with all the strength she can muster up, removing you and Sohyun from her ass and pussy respectively, and rolls onto the bed. You keep your eyes on her as she starts rubbing herself. “MOMMY, HOLD ME!” She screams as her body is reacting violently to the orgasm; her thighs and legs are the parts that are shaking the most.

Sohyun has her limbs wrapped around her girlfriend, adhering to the latter’s request of being held. “You’re fine, baby; you’re perfectly safe in my arms.” She keeps whispering nice words that you hope aren’t falling to deaf ears because they’re that sweet, especially considering the context. “I’m so proud of you, baby—you did so, so well,” Sohyun adds.

“I-I can’t,” Xinyu is panting heavily, “I can’t continue.” You ask if she’s in pain, but she says no; it’s just that she’s very drained. “Well, that’s unfortunate,” you think, only concerned about yourself and the fact that you’re potentially getting blue-balled. Your eyes happen to land on Sohyun, and she promptly invites you to get in between her legs.

“I know what you’re thinking, daddy,” she says, “give it to me—I’m her legal representative.” You laugh. “What are you talking about, babe?” Sohyun joins you in laughing. “Well, you know what I meant.” She invites you to lie down on the bed next to Xinyu, who is somewhat serene now. “Do you have condoms?” You nod and point at the bedside table on the other side of the bed, next to Xinyu, and Sohyun grabs two of them. She uses one to envelope her rubber dick and tosses the other to you. “Put that on,” she says, “ass-to-pussy sounds like a recipe for STD.”

Sohyun jumps back onto the bed, her knees set on either side of your thighs and her pussy floating closely over the tip of your cock while her hand is busy trying to shove the dildo part of the strap-on into her ass. “Oh, ngh, fuck.” You hold her hands as she squirms around, getting used to the sensation in her rear. “I-I’m ready.” “So am I, baby.”

You move your hands onto her hips and guide her towards your cock, and the sensation of being double stuffed makes her moan loudly right away. “Daddy, daddy,” she calls to you breathily, “I-I’m so fucking full, daddy.” You want to say something back, but first, you take a deep breath because it feels like her pussy is squeezing your cock more tightly. “Fuck, you’re much tighter like this, baby,” you utter. “Oh, oh, fuck���really, daddy?” “I think—oh, God, yes, you are.”

Sohyun slowly lifts her hips off yours and goes down again just as slowly, savoring the first moments of double penetration. “Fuck, I-I feel bad for Xinyu now,” she says, “w-we went hard on her, daddy.” Your eyes quickly move to the side to look at Xinyu, whose jaw is dropped, wordless at the sight in front of her. “W-we’ll make it up to her later, baby.”

Without command, Sohyun begins bouncing on your cock, unintelligible sounds escaping her lips as she does. “Oh, God, sorry.” She stops momentarily when she loses balance. You hold her hands and place them on your chest to help her stabilize, and now that her tits are within arm’s reach, you take them in your hands. “Fuck, I knew that would happen.” You chuckle a little. “I don’t want you to fall.” She smiles a little before resuming her movements, and in the corner of your eyes, you happen to spot Xinyu rubbing herself, no longer stunned by the view you and Sohyun are providing.

You don’t know how long Sohyun has been fucking herself on your cock, but one thing that’s certain is that your orgasm is not that far away now. “B-baby,” your voice is breathy, “I-I won’t last long.” Your words make her pick up the pace. “I-I’m close too,” she says, just as breathy as you are.

You’re surprised when Xinyu suddenly sits on your face. If only she was facing the other way, you’d be able to breathe, but then she’d not be able to kiss Sohyun, so you’ll make do of this situation. You run your tongue back and forth across her pussy, occasionally mixing things up by licking her little nub. You use your strong hands to hold Xinyu down whenever she jolts around too much so that your tongue won’t miss its target.

You’re a bit concerned when you feel yourself twitching in Sohyun’s pussy—you haven’t asked if she wanted it inside or not, but at least she’s on top; she’ll be able to remove your cock from her insides easily if she wishes so. “Yes, fuck!” Despite your ears being blocked by Xinyu’s thighs, you can still hear Sohyun’s scream when you release hot semen into her. “Oh, I came inside, huh?”

Xinyu finally gets off your face, and that is when you can see Sohyun’s high-from-orgasm face; her forehead is drenched in sweat, her thighs are shaking subtly, and her mouth is wide open. “T-that’s so hot,” she says, “h-how are you always so hot, daddy.” “I-I don’t know,” you reply simply. Sohyun gradually lifts herself off your cock, letting some excess semen drip out of her pussy and onto your crotch. “I-I’m done, I can’t take any more,” she says. You notice that she’s getting limp, so you pull her into an embrace before she falls in a less-favorable direction—wouldn’t want her to fall off the bed and onto the floor, would you?

Sohyun takes advantage of the position and kisses you warmly. “I love you, daddy.” “I love you more—I love both of you,” you correct yourself. She lets out a small giggle. “Y-you’re going to have to take us home later, daddy.” “Gladly,” you give her a peck on the lips, “but you’re going to help me change the sheets and clean things up first, okay?”

[carolmunson]

the boy is mine | a writing exercise

excuse me, can i please talk to you for a minute? do you know somebody named...y-you know his name. oh yeah, definitely, i know his name. well, i just want to let you know that he's mine. no, no, he's mine.

hi, this is carol and i wanted to create a fun blurb writing exercise a la @superblysubpar and @chechelia considering the current state of the eddie munson x reader fandom. i, personally, can barely stand the seemingly never ending infighting between writers and groups on here. whether it be writing style or characterization, it seems everyone sort of has a problem with everyone. (not me tho, i truly am vibing). in the words of monica and brandy 'you need to give it up, had about enough'. -- so instead of leaving, i wanted to try something fun, fresh, and cute to bring us together. we all have our own eddie munson head cannons that we hold near and dear to our hearts. but i think that's part of what's fun about fandom, there's a little something for everyone. so this exercise is a way for us to all be on the same playing field -- same prompt/dialogues we have to use. only written how your personally HC eddie, our og guy (no au versions pls). i loved how this manifested on cece's old blog because it was so fun to see what people came up with. below is the dialogue and prompt as well as the best way to participate. yes, if you are a steve girl you can participate lol. if you are someone who has me blocked and/or vice versa and would like to participate, please send your link to a friend so i can add it in an upcoming masterlist.

the scene: a romantic night in at the trailer. props included/mentioned (in passing or can hold bigger meaning): a throw pillow, vanilla frosting, a small notebook. dialogue included (can be manipulated slightly if needed, can be placed in any order): - "i ran out of like, nice cups, is this okay?" - "aw, don't be like that. that's not even true." - "and you like that?" - "if you don't stop, we're gonna have a problem." these don't have to be sexy. they don't have to lead to anything. it's just a romantic night in -- and it can end in anything. angst, fluff, smut, alien invasion. who cares! i just wanna see how you'd write in your world with YOUR eddie. so we can see all of our eddies!

to participate, please write a blurb or ficlet titled 'the boy is mine (____'s edition)' and tag me so that i can add you to the upcoming masterlist. share each other's ficlets. enjoy how they differ and how they are the same. what do we all think is true? what do we differ on? i think this could be really cool.

here's a list of people i'm tagging from different 'x reader' groups to spread the word -- but everyone feel free to do it, please! share with your friends, encourage your friends to do it too: @loveshotzz @chechelia @abibliophobiaa @aphrogeneias @jo-harrington @bewilderedbunny @impmunson @queenimmadolla @oneforthemunny @superblysubpar @sweetsweetjellybean @rebelfell @crappymixtape @lesservillain @courtingchaos @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing @bimbobaggins69 @blueywrites @lonelysatellites @wroteclassicaly @wheels-of-despair @rip-quizilla @upsidedownwithsteve @powderblueblood

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Slight Spoilers for Penacony's Story Quest

I keep thinking about this one dialogue option somewhere in the Penacony Quest, where if you ask Aventurine to give you more money, he immediately sends you more, which led me to think about how Yandere!Aventurine would most definitely love to spend as much money on you as he can as a way of convincing you to stay with him, which led to this little drabble. Enjoy!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Aventurine loves to take you shopping.

Whether it's the gilded streets of Oti Mall or the luxury departments of Pier Point, as long as the price tags are exorbitant and the clothes are high quality, Aventurine loves to take you on shopping sprees. Together, the two of you peruse store after store, boutique after boutique, shop after shop. Try and ask the gambler why and he’ll only flash you a casual smirk, drawing you closer to him and interlacing one of his hands with yours. “Do I need a reason why, love?” He questions, pulling you towards him gently and guiding you to the elevator of his penthouse. 

He can still recall the look in your eyes when he first invited you out to dinner in Pier Point. Aventurine had planned the date perfectly by getting a reservation to some state-of-the-art interactive dining experience that would surely impress you. However, once the two of you had been seated at your table, he saw you looking at your menu, eyes full of fear at the long trains of zeros preceding every item. It was a sight he’d never forget. Instantly, he told you he would pay for it all, and despite your best protests, nothing could stop him from giving the server his card

Tonight you and him are back in Pier Point, revisiting some of your favorite shops. Or rather, the shops that garnered the most wide-eyed reactions from you after entering them for the first time. You were never forthright about the shops and brands you liked, as if you didn’t want to return and buy more from them. No matter. Aventurine is always careful to gauge your reactions, a smile falling on his lips every time he sees that starstruck innocence in your gaze.

Your pure soul is so fragile. He could shatter it with a single breath. A flick of a finger. A silent stare. He knows firsthand how quickly that golden glow can fade away. So can’t he just have this? Him and you attached at the hip, the perfect image of lovers in every passing stranger’s eyes; completely in sync, moving to rhythms and melodies only he and you can hear.

He’s well aware that his grasp on you in this dance may be too tight and controlling as he forces you along with him in this spiritual tango, but he has good intentions. He knows it. You know it. It’s why you let him care for you, let him pick out your outfits and take care of your finances. Aventurine knows best. After all, he’s seen the worst parts of the world and climbed out of his own personal slice of hell. The universe is a cruel place and all he wants to do is shield you from it all by protecting the gold in your heart and the stars in your eyes. The boutiques are all devoid of anything befitting of your beauty, not that Aventurine cares. It just means he gets to go order something custom-made, tailored to fit you and match him perfectly, arguably even better than going out and buying something from a store. While it pleases him enough to know he’s paying for you, when he sees you all dressed up and matching him to a T in shades of green and gold–well, that’s an entirely different level of satisfaction.

As you begin the walk back to Aventurine’s penthouse apartment, the gambler is already looking online for new designers to contact. You ask him why he’s doing this. Once again, a soft smirk plays on Aventurine’s lips. “For starters, you look gorgeous in them,” he says, squeezing your hand a little tighter as the two of you fight your way through boulevards bustling with people. “It also makes it easier to find you in crowds when you’re all dressed up,” he adds, pausing for a moment. “And I don’t want to lose you, my love.” Aventurine lifts your hand up, softly whispering his words against the skin of your knuckles before he presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

For a moment, there’s a slight tremor in his voice, his hand clenching even tighter around your own. It’s as though he’s afraid that if he relinquishes his hold on your hand, he won’t just lose you in the crowd, but forever.

The unspoken reason–that he likes to make sure everyone knows you’re his lover–lingers in the air around you like arms around your shoulders.

[fairlyang]

Easy money I 🕷️

in which your roomie needs your help for a shoot

w/c: 3.1K

pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. tension, recording, groping, fingering, squirting

notes: all my readers loved this series and might’ve been peer pressured for a part 3 but I’m kinda excited to write it :D gonna post this rn and maybe part 2 tmrw, finish up all my part 3’s soon hopefully

part two

I heard a knock on my door so I lowered my music from my airpods. "Come in!" I yell and turn to look at my laptop.

I hear the door open and Miguel clears his throat, I turn around to look at him and raise an eyebrow, "what's up?"

"I need something from you...." He says and takes a step inside.

"Like what?" I ask and he takes another step forward.

"You're gonna have to hear me out alright?" He says and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Okay..." I say and take my airpods off leaving them on my desk before turning back to look at him, giving him my full attention.

"I need you to step in for tonight's shoot..." he says and I burst out laughing.

"Are you fucking joking?" I say and shake my head. Is this man serious?

"I need your help Y/n..." he says nearing the edge of my bed and I groan.

"Why me?"

"The girl I was gonna shoot with canceled on me last minute and all the girls I usually shoot with are unavailable." He explains and I blink.

"Andddd you are already here...." He adds and i scoff.

"Not really sure I'd wanna expose myself like that Miguel." I say and stand up, walking over to my bed and plop down on it.

He sighs and sits on the edge of it and looks at me with pleading eyes. "Please? For me?"

"And the camera would hide your face, so unless you have any noticeable tattoos on your lower body then I think you'd be in the clear." He says and I bite my lip. Well there lies the problem...

I blink looking at him in silence making him scoff as he widens his eyes slightly then his lips tug into a smirk. "Where do you have it?" he asks and I feel my face heat up.

"Uh that one spot that's like lower, inner hip..." I say quietly and turn my gaze to my window.

There was really no reason for me to be acting like this- but that tattoo wasn't exactly somewhere that most people in my life know.... So maybe... just maybe...

"No face?" I ask and he nods.

"You know I don't even show my face-" he says with a small smile.

"I know but I don't know if it's different for the girls you record with." I say and shrug.

"It depends on them mainly, I'm not gonna force anyone I work with to show their face if they don't want to." He says softly and I nod slowly.

"And you wanna do this like right now?" I ask and he nods again.

"Jesus-" I mutter and run a hand over my hair.

"Up to you but you know I have a lot of loyal subscribers and make decent money off this..." he says and I chuckle.

"Because the girls love your voice and body." I say and he smirks making me regret my choice of words. And queue to him being obnoxious about it...

"I-"

"Think so huh?" he teases in a cocky tone making me groan.

"Fuck off." I say and grab a random stuffed animal from my bed and throw it at his face.

He laughs and holds it, it was so small compared to his hands. Oh god-

I mean of fucking course I've noticed how fine he is- it was the first thing I noticed when I was interviewing people to be my roommate, he was the hottest man that came in needing a place to stay.

I didn't just decide on him because he was hot but because he seemed chill and not like someone that would murder me in my sleep.

But I never made a move on him, neither did he. We've just always had some type of tension that neither of us ever paid attention to... I guess until now..

"So what exactly did you plan to shoot?" I ask and let out a sigh.

He grins and scoots closer now sitting by my legs as they were stretched out. "I was thinking fingering."

I nod and bite my lip, "hmm.."

"Up to you I won't force you but just think of the fact that you'd be getting paid to get fingered." He says and I snicker.

Sounds like easy money...

And I'd get an orgasm out of it...

"50% of whatever the video makes will go to you." He says and I bite my lip.

"You're really laying it on thick there Miguel... you that desperate?" I tease and he playfully rolls his eyes.

"Yeah actually, so just let me know within the next hour before I just decide to do a solo vid." He says and stands up.

I sigh and nod, "I'll... think about it...." He smirks and gives me a wink before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him.

I sigh and lay down on my bed, should I?

I mean there's no denying the fact that I always listen in when he has someone over to record... or even checked out a few of his videos on pornhub...

maybe even possibly masturbated to a few of his audios... or the ones where he fucks himself with a fleshlight...

Letting out those incredible moans for everyone's very own pleasure, how selfless.

But he wanted to record for onlyfans which was for the ones who specifically pay to view his content, which apparently was a lot and the thought alone was a little nerve wrecking.

What if someone I've been with before recognized my tattoo and tells people I know? I'd be fucking done for and I'd just die on the spot of pure embarrassment.

But the money- how could I say no to that kind of money? Especially when seeing the views just his previews on pornhub get-

I'd be so fucking stupid to pass this opportunity...

Fuck it.

I get up from my bed and walk to my door quickly opening it before stepping out onto the hallway. I then do the walk of shame and walk to Miguel's room.

I made my mind up a little too fast god I'm not gonna hear the end of this from him-

I step in front of his door and knock twice before hearing a laugh. I groan and cross my arms across my chest, patiently waiting for him.

He opens the door with a wide smile but before I could even say a word my eyes trailed down his chest then to his abdomen. A small happy trail going down caught my eye as a pair of grey sweatpants hugged his hips perfectly.

God he looked so good...

Wait- how the fuck did he change so fast?

"Did you just assume I was going to say yes?" I ask, quickly looking up at him.

He shrugs and opens his door wide, motioning for me to step inside. I roll my eyes but walk in nonetheless, seeing that he was indeed very desperate for this. And apparently eager.

"I knew it'd be something hard for you to say no to." He says and shrugs, closing the door behind him.

"And I had an idea for more anonymity..." he says and walks past me.

He walks over to his desk and picks up two masks, robber masks. "We could put these on." He says and throws me a pink one.

I catch it and look down at it, cute.

"Just casually had these huh?" I mutter and play with it between my fingertips.

It only had three holes, obviously for the eyes and mouth. It honestly didn't shock me too much that he had these especially considering he didn't make content showing his face at all.

"Alright ready?"

"Where are we doing this? Should I change? Should I put makeup on-"

"Calm down-" he says and laughs, shaking his head at my sudden worries.

"We're doing this in my bathroom, I already set the camera and lights up." He explains and I nod.

"As for your clothes if you want I can give you one of my shirts and you can just leave your panties on." He says looking me up and down.

I wearing a SZA shirt with Cookie Monster pajama pants.... Yeah I definitely could've changed but maybe got a tiny bit excited..

He walked over to his dresser and picked the first one of top and then tossed it over to me. I caught it and unfold it to reveal a Nirvana tee. I shrug and walk over to his bathroom with him right on my tail.

I walk in then stop and quickly turn around to point a finger at him, "you're waiting- you can wait a few more minutes there O'Hara." He chuckles and backs up letting me close the door.

I quickly take off my tee shirt and put the one he gave me on. I leave my shirt on the sink then I slip out of my pj pants and realize it wasn't a big deal if he watched because he was going to see it all right now anyway.....

I look in the mirror and take a deep breath, I was really going to do this.... We were really going to do this...

I then take notice of the ring light and tripod that were right in front me. This was getting so real so fast and it was making me more nervous than I expected.

I breathe in then breathe out. I do it a couple more times and feel some nerves leave my body but some still lingering around.

I turn around and walk towards the door, I open it wide and Miguel stands up from his bed and walks over. "Finally." He teased and I chuckle.

"My bad." I mutter, turning back around and walk to the sink, leaning against it as Miguel walks in.

"You're good, don't worry it'll be fine." He reassured and gives me a small smile.

He walks over to his tripod and sets his phone on it and goes to the camera. He turns to me and motions for me to stand in front of the camera. I nod and do so, leaning against the seat with my nerves growing every second.

"Alright we're gonna start, if you need me to stop at any given moment just tap my thigh or anywhere twice okay?" He says and I nod.

"Audibly please?" He says and I chuckle.

"Yes I understand."

"Okay good." He says and throws me the pink robber mask.

I move all my hair to my back then slip it on. I fix the holes to align to my mouth and eyes then see Miguel doing the same. "This'll be fun." He mutters with a slight smirk on his face then he presses the button to record.

He walks over to me and gently puts his hands on my cheeks then leans in. I lean up and he leans down removing the last amount of space between us and crashes his lips onto mine. I kiss back and put a hand to his jaw and the other on his neck.

I then feel his hands slide down my body, at first staying at my waist, gripping my skin softly through the shirt until his hands go lower and his fingertips are playing with the hem of his shirt, near my ass.

He slid his tongue in my mouth and continues toying w his shirt, bringing it up slowly as our tongues fight for dominance but I stood no chance. Suddenly I feel a hard smack against my ass making me moan in his mouth.

He smiles and pulls away just to go down and start leaving open mouthed kisses on my neck. I sigh and tilt my head to the side as he slightly moves the mask to leave a mark where he wanted. He sucked on my skin then licked it softly before leaving a kiss on it.

I smile and grab his head, making sure he stayed in place as he kept playing with the skirt. He pulls away again and this time bringing the hem of the shirt up, slowly. He turns me around slowly so my behind is what the camera will see and lifts the shirt completely over my ass.

Another smack.

Then to the other cheek.

Another smack on each one, definitely already making them red and it seemed like he wanted to keep going because of the noises that were leaving his mouth. Such delicious groans.

He keeps pulling it up, exposing my entire bare back to the camera but my tits to him. He quickly brings it up and over my head, throwing it on the floor then quickly cups my tits and squeezes.

I gasp when he pinches both nipples then quickly turns me around so my ass was on his already hard bulge. His hands continue squeezing and I felt purely at bliss, heaven on earth even.

I lay my head back against his chest which makes him lean down and leave a kiss on my neck then suck gently on the skin as his hands continued kneading my tits.

His right hand then lets go of my boob and slowly trails down my stomach, as if easing me in, making me feel comfortable first. I grab on to his left arm and try to stand still, I already felt like I was going to go crazy and maybe fall over.

My fucking roommate was doing this- and he had such a good hand for these things so this was gonna be perfect.

His hand goes between my legs, gently rubbing my pussy through my panties. I spread my legs to help him out when he starts rubbing circles on my clit. I moan and buck my hips forward, already wanting more.

And he gives me just that, he starts going faster and I could feel my wetness seeping through the fabric of my little panties. "Miguel-"

He hums then rubs along my slit, my arousal already able to soak his fingers. How embarrassing.

He then removed his fingers making me whine until he pulls my panties down and lets them slide off my legs. I step out of them and kick them farther out, out of shot.

I spread my legs again and he doesn't hesitate to immediately start rubbing my clit again, not caring to ease me in anymore. He moans into my ear and dips his fingers on to my folds, my wetness enveloping them as he teases my hole making me grip harder onto his arm.

He moved that arm to grip on to my waist while I still held on to it for dear life. I couldn't trust myself to stand I knew I'd just end up falling and he was a big boy, he could handle me.

He then slid a finger in, slow at first until he slammed it in without warning. I gasped and clung on to his arm. He then started pumping in and out, deep and slow.

He started going faster, hitting deeper now until he fully stopped and added a second finger in. He started moving again, going faster and harder, making me a moaning mess as I looked down to watch in awe.

"Look how easy you're taking me baby." He murmurs in my ear and I couldn't help the whimper that came out of me.

"Feels so good-" I moan and he hums, pumping them even faster.

I felt myself clench against his fingers and listen to how fucking soaked I am, he barely even touched me..

"Rub your clit for me." He whispers and I nod, immediately bringing my right hand down to rub my clit in fast circles.

I moan out for him and he coos dirty little nothings into my ear as he starts curling his fingers up and hitting that sweet spot every time.

I was starting to feel my orgasm creep in already which had me shocked but then realized who was the one doing this to me...

"Fuck- Miguel-" I moan and lay my head back against him, he leans down to kiss my cheek oh so sweetly.

He then brings his open hand and starts pinching my left nipple, I felt my legs shake as he continued and I was slowly down because I was feeling so fucking close.

"Don't stop baby, be a good girl and keep rubbing that clit until you cum for me sweet girl." He murmurs and I whimper, clenching against his fingers as I rub my clit faster feeling that knot in my stomach about to burst.

"Miguel please- so cl-"

I dig my nails into his arms making him groan but he didn't say to stop. I felt my eyes growing hazier by the second and my thighs were trembling more and more by the second.

Suddenly I see white, I cry out and feel my climax crash and take over my body. I closed my eyes and almost fell to my knees, had Miguel strong arm not held me. My legs were trembling and Miguel's fingers were still inside, slowly fucking me through my orgasm.

I held onto him for dear life and start to calm my breathing down as I open my eyes, then quickly widening in pure shock, I had squirted all over the place.

I gasp and move my hand away from my clit, I stood silent, still in Miguel's arms in pure embarrassment. Squirting always felt so embarrassing, especially now because I didn't even mean to-

"That was probably the most perfect shoot I've done thus far." Miguel says making me scoff.

"I'm being so serious." He says finally taking his fingers out of me slowly and brings it up to his lips.

I tilt my head and look up, watching as he sucks on his fingers covered in my juices. Holy fuck.

I blink watching him as if in a trance, then he looks me directly in my eyes making me subconsciously squeeze my thighs together.

He takes them out with a plop and gives me a wide grin, "sorry but we have to do that again in the future...."

I laugh and look down embarrassed, I shrug and straighten up, "I guess we'll have to see if the people liked it..."

"I'm sure they will." He says and laughs.

"Let's get ya cleaned up then maybe we can watch a movie, if you'd like." He suggests and I look up at him and nod.

"That'd be perfect."

[itwasrealtome]

THIN ICE

Olivia Benson x fem! reader

⚠️ DO NOT READ IF THIS MIGHT TRIGGER YOU

ANGST | Olivia Benson x fem! detective reader | Masterlist

Summary : Detective Y/N Y/L/N, part of Olivia Benson’s Special Victims Unit, faces a life-threatening situation during a suspect’s arrest, chasing this one into an ultimate falls to his death. Injured but alive, Y/N finds herself in an hospital room, receiving stern words from Olivia about her reckless actions.

Content Warning : Mention of stimulants to stay awake | Mention of a breakup | Mention of police work | Mention of jumping off a building | Some police man being a jerk | Usual SVU talk : Abuse, murder, violence, weapon and kidnapping | Y/N getting into a fight | People falling from a building | Injuries | Death | Hospital | OLIVIA BEING MAD | HEARTBREAK

A/N : Hello my loves. I'm finally sharing this first Olivia X reader with you. I hope you like it. Please let me know what you think. There are a few people I can't identify in the taglist, I'm sorry.

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•••

This afternoon, the streets seemed even more crowded than usual. The vehicles flooded the roads, coming from every corner and blocking the main way out.

Behind a queue of about ten of them, a police car came to a sudden halt. The alarm was on, and the blue and red flashing lights blinded anyone who looked in that direction.

But no one moved.

Not even the sound of a horn persuaded the citizens of New York to get out of the path.

Amanda’s grip on the wheel only tightened. She had never been able to understand the reason behind people’s insensitivity to this kind of thing. It was such an easy thing to understand. Besides, someone’s life often depended on it. Yet, there she was, turning furiously midway, her partner gasping in surprise, her shirt now stained with hot coffee.

— Dude, can’t you just warn before doing that kind of thing?

The blonde gave a brief glance to her passenger. She expected to find her glued to the door, her fingers clenched around the top handle, but she didn’t.

Y/N was desperately trying to absorb the contents of her cup on her worktop. The wipers provided with her order, finally finding their use.

While most people would have been annoyed about staining a piece of clothing, the young detective was not. She seemed much more upset about losing a few drops of her beverage. The former could still be replaced, but the latter was definitely needed.

— Sorry about your shirt.

— Yeah, well you owe me a coffee.

The driver’s smile only widened when she heard her partner muttering complaints. She knew her well enough to say that it had nothing to do with that slight accident. It was cute. Of course, it was. But Amanda could see through it. She knew it had nothing to do with the coffee. Sure, the days were long and their job involved finding stimulants to stay awake, but Y/N was never acting like that. Something was different. And who better to notice than someone who practically lived with her?

— Sure you’re okay?

— Rollins, it’s just a shirt. I think I can get over it.

Amanda gave her a knowing glance. She expected this kind of answer from the young officer. Everyone knew what kind of person she was.

Committed, she was always the first to arrive at the precinct and the last to leave. She was practically married to the job by now. And though Kat had trouble following orders, Y/N did not. She was the perfect partner. Amanda couldn’t remember a time when Y/N had lost control. But these days, everything seemed to fall apart.

It began with a couple of small comments, here and there, a bit too harsh coming from Y/N’s mouth. Next up, her silence during the team talk was a concerning factor for Amanda. If anyone always had something to add to the investigation, it was her. This ranged from a simple detail no one had noticed, to scientific or sociological facts. It was often complicated to keep the detective quiet, so her lack of involvement was bound to catch the eye. That and the fact the blonde had seen her leave the bunks two mornings in a row at the exact same time.

Sure, it was just the addition of minor details. But the older woman’s gut was not wrong, not about this. Something was wrong with her partner. And it had nothing to do with a simple lack of caffeine.

— Oh, don’t give me that kind of look.

— But you’re not telling me the truth, Y/N/N!

Y/N huffed quietly. At times in her life, she hated being around people whose job was to investigate. She cursed them all equally. She just couldn’t help herself the last few days. Her anger was aimed at a specific and unique person, but that person being in law enforcement themselves, it was almost overwhelming to go to work every day. Time seemed to run too slowly there. The only moments she enjoyed were those outside the building. The cold New York weather allowed her to clear her mind and take a deep breath. And she always had something to do, after all the city never slept.

—Like you don’t keep anything to yourself, huh?

Amanda faintly spluttered. Everyone knew she had had difficult times, but she wasn't the only one. And now that she was honest with herself, she knew she had made mistakes. One thing’s for sure, she did not want her partner to replicate these.

— I made some mistakes, most of them I don’t want you to repeat.

— I seriously doubt you did this one.

That was all she could get out of the young detective. Amanda knew it as she watched her turn toward the window. The mere reflection of her face gave her a glimpse of what she was really feeling inside, a sweet mixture of anger and bitterness. Whatever the problem was, it wasn't something they could fix with a drink. And this worried the blonde even more.

— Just promise me you won't do anything stupid.

These words captured the passenger's interest again. She arched an eyebrow at her partner, a smile forming at the corner of her lips. Knowing their duo’s dynamics, she had dozens of retorts on the tip of her tongue, all of them a little more mischievous than the last. Instead, she just shook her head gently. Amanda didn't have to know how upset she was about the whole thing. She didn’t deserve to worry so much. And Y/N certainly had no right to be such a burden to her partner.

— Like what? Jumping off a building? y/n chuckled at the blonde’s glare. Relax. I won’t do anything of that kind, I promise.

At that very moment, the young detective genuinely meant it. She had not gotten up with such an idea in mind. If jumping off a building was regarded as a very stupid gesture, she considered her routine more so.

It was in the way the precinct’s bunks were beginning to feel like home. And how she spent every second of her days with the badge on her waist. She had no idea when she had last stepped into her apartment for more than a shower. Her desk was overflowing with paperwork and books in which she always found a way to bury herself. It was much more than a way to distract herself. At all costs, she avoided raising her head, out of fear of meeting the gaze that froze her every time. The path she was on was, for that matter, significantly more dangerous than whatever stupid thing Amanda was thinking about.

But she could not say that to her.

To anyone, actually.

— Weren't we just called to make sure that this jerk wasn't prowling around the residence?

In any other context, Y/N would have felt like a fool. Her back nearly arched as she tried to make out what was going on in a street they weren't even close to yet. She may have lacked sleep and insight into her personal life, but her cop intuition never failed her.

— You'd be sure of that if you'd listened to a single word the captain said.

— Something’s wrong.

Amanda brought them to the next intersection before momentarily stopping the car. The sight over her partner’s shoulder sent a chill down her spine. Despite years of experience, she couldn’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline every time. The crowd of cops down the street certainly wasn’t helping. They were everywhere. Mostly hidden behind their vehicles. But their vests did not go unnoticed and neither did their weapons pointed at a specific target.

— Crap, I hate when you’re right about this stuff.

— Hum…what was that you were saying about our captain again? y/n faced her friend with a teasing smile on her face. She couldn’t help herself. Always listen to what sh–

The sudden acceleration of the vehicle silenced Y/N. She felt grateful once again that her belt was keeping her safe. No day went by without her being in some kind of danger, but she never thought she’d have to worry about dying while Amanda was behind the wheel.

— Would you please stop doing that? cried the younger detective, her hands still clutching the top handle. And since when do you drive so badly? Damn it.

— Guess now you’ll stop driving like a maniac if I let you get behind the wheel.

The door swung shut before she could react. She stepped out of the car herself and walked over to Amanda. A vest was tossed in her face before she could even think about opening her mouth. But anyone who thought she would have given up so easily was wrong.

— I do not drive like a maniac.

Her friend gave her a knowing look as she closed the trunk. Now was definitely not the time to have this kind of conversation, but Amanda was glad her partner hadn’t lost everything that made her the person she was.

She was relentless, both in her work and in her personal life. To be defeated by a suspect in an interrogation room was a rare occurrence. Within the profession, many officers wondered about her career choice. They could imagine her leaving the field to terrify judges in a courtroom. Perhaps because they were themselves scared to death to face her. Seeking victory in a debate with a woman like Y/N was a waste of time. She knew when she was wrong, and would always acknowledge it. Nevertheless, she also knew when she was right. And in those moments, Amanda was the first to grab a bag of popcorn.

— That you do.

The detective’s hands found the velcro on the vest from memory as she was too busy glowering at her friend. The protection weighed on her shoulders. It was almost enough to give her a reason to fall apart. That, and the weight of life that was beginning to take its toll on her.

Slightly defeated, she stomped over to Amanda to catch up with her. She knew the other detective was right. Her anger was evident in the way she drove. Since then, she was assigned the role of co-pilot. It was okay. But she loathed being deprived of her usual distraction. It was starting to loop in her mind. She needed a way out.

— Detective Rollins and Y/L/N, Special Victims Unit.

Amanda shoved her badge in the man’s direction, half-expecting him to tell her to piss off. He dominated the scene with his large stature and a rank evident to all. The rookies were following his orders and keeping their mouths shut. Something that obviously wouldn't work with Olivia Benson-trained agents. He didn't seem to mind, guiding the two detectives as close as possible to the scene. But then, the mere idea of having to send men into the building made him raise his chin in an authoritative, disapproving manner.

— Our only witness is trapped in this building, Rollins began the fight, finger pointing accusingly. I don't care how, I want that man in custody.

If one of them had looked up for even half a second, instead of fighting over who had the biggest –which was obviously Y/N in this situation– they might have been able to stop the young detective in her tracks. Amanda had had enough of listening to the man's whining as he waved his rank in her face. And her colleague, the one she was supposed to look after, was tired of simply waiting.

As discreet as a mouse in the middle of the city, Y/N circled the building and quickly found a fire escape. It wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when the impulse to walk into the building first came to her, but she couldn't really say she'd given it much thought. With a bit of imagination, and a little help from a trash container, she managed to pull herself up to the top. Now, maybe that was the beginning of a crazy idea. She could already imagine her partner and captain scolding her - if, and only if, she managed to get out of there alive and intact.

At the top of the stairs leading to the third floor, the detective stopped dead in her tracks at the sound of their suspect's agitated voice.

Thomas Patterson, 45, suspected of having violently abused his wife before killing her, and of abusing his stepdaughter - Johanne Morales. The man's profile was clear: a respectful-looking husband and father-in-law, loved by all, carefree, but once the door was closed he turned into a control freak with urges he simply couldn't escape. He clearly hadn't planned to kill his wife. The autopsy had revealed signs of haste and mistakes that a man like Patterson would never have made if he had prepared properly. But he had made mistakes. His blows had been too violent, Johanne had interrupted him, and he'd had to finish the job quickly - too quickly, in order to hide his crime.

Y/N had studied his profile carefully. That's what she did best, that and avoiding her captain. She knew he was restless, nervous, ready to do anything to cover up his actions. The final piece of the puzzle was to eliminate the only witness, the one who would go all the way to court to see him take the fall. She had an advantage over him. She was there, so close to the goal, and he was unaware of her presence. At least, that was until Amanda's voice came through the radio.

— Y/L/N, you've got two seconds to get your butt over here.

The young detective could have banged her own head against the wall. Boy, had she been stupid on that one. She clenched her jaw, the urge to bite her fist growing cumbersome as she prayed Thomas hadn't heard. But he definitely did.

A front door opened slowly, the creaking hinges betraying the building’s condition. The man was probably armed, the sound of the guard echoing in the empty corridor. Each of his steps shook the wooden floor and sent a current of adrenalin through Y/N's veins. He was getting closer. She could smell him and his perfume. Him and her fear.

As soon as he was close enough to round the corner of the stairwell, the young detective took this as her cue. She charged at the man, her hands reaching for the 9mm held firmly in his rough, bleeding hands. In a split second, the magazine slid out and collapsed on the floor. She sent it tumbling down a few steps with her boot, before landing a knee into the suspect’s parts. This only confused him for the briefest moment. He was on her again before she could even flinch. Her body hit the wall with a heavy thud, the vest shielding her body from the heavy impact. However, the man’s hands found her neck and tightened their grip, pulling her head violently forward and then pushing it back, slamming it against the concrete wall.

He repeated the motion twice more, the detective’s pleas of pain provoking a feeling he himself could not begin to describe. Y/N wasn’t done with him yet. He clearly wanted to lash out at a woman and had a nasty habit of underestimating them all. Only, today wasn’t his lucky day. He was forced into the apartment where he had deliberately tied up the young Johanne. It was his turn to bang into something. The dresser barely tilted behind him, but the vase crashed hard against the top of his skull. He felt the water run down his face, the smell of freshly bought flowers wafting through the air.

Back in a corner, Johanne tried desperately to struggle out of her bonds, her words puffed out by the duct tape over her mouth. She could only witness the struggle between her back-up and her assailant. Watching as Y/N unloaded all her pent-up anger on the man who had dared to cause so much harm. In one smooth motion, Thomas grabbed the detective’s gun, a triumphant glint in his eyes. Hope was soon lost, his chances of getting out of there alive and free close to zero. His opponent was relentless and had no intention of letting him slip away. His only option, he realized, a flash of light reflecting off the window, was to drag the detective with him in his fall.

Outside, Amanda was still arguing with the man in charge of operations. He hadn’t given up and neither had she. Only when, as the argument continued to escalate, gunshots were heard, followed by the shattering of a window pane, did they come to an agreement. The plan didn’t even have time to take shape before two bodies flew out of the building.

First, the blonde saw the man she recognized as their suspect crash hard to the ground, the collision knocking him down instantly. Then came a tremendous thump and the shrill sound of a car alarm. Straight ahead of her, on one of the patrol cars, had landed Y/N. The height of the fall meant that the roof of the vehicle had been crushed and some of the windows smashed. That wasn't what Amanda was most worried about. Her partner, the one who'd promised her she wouldn't do anything stupid – like jumping off the third floor of a building, was sprawled motionless on the broken glass, blood on the back of her skull.

— Oh my God, Y/N, in one stride, she was as close as she could get to her friend. Call an ambulance. Now!

For once, the man made himself useful, radio in hand, as he asked for help. He now stood with one, maybe two, even three victims to deal with if the detective didn't make it. He could already imagine the damage it would do to his career. Besides, he knew Captain Benson very well and had no desire to mess with her.

Needless was his worry. The more Amanda studied her friend, the more she realized how lucky she’s been. Y/N was simply stunned, staring at the New York sky with an uncharacteristic intensity. She began to laugh, full-throated, heartily. It was probably the adrenaline pumping again. Tears joined the party, leaving funny marks on her bloody cheeks. Suddenly, she remembered.

— Johanne. She's alive. Up there. Y/N looked up at Amanda expectantly. She needs help.

***

Captain Olivia Benson had seen enough in her career not to let anxiety get the better of her. She had been beaten, kidnapped, almost died and dragged through the mud in front of an entire courtroom. She had reached a point where facing certain types of suspects no longer made her lose her footing.

But someone was bound to make her lose it.

Briskly, almost to the point of knocking herself off her feet, she made her way through the corridors of a hospital she knew all too well. The distinctive clatter of her heels against the floor blended perfectly with the incessant beeping and distant hubbub of such a place. She wasn't there to see a victim, as she often was. Her hasty and agitated demeanor only aroused the suspicions of the medical staff who had crossed paths with her so many times. It wasn't just a professional matter.

It hadn't been for a long time.

When Olivia reached room 212, she didn't spare a moment's hesitation. One of her youngest detectives and latest recruit was sitting wisely on the edge of the bed, her legs wriggling in the air like a child's. A nurse was visibly busy behind her, dropping more and more glass flakes into her tray as she went. She leaned against the doorframe, arms folded tightly against her chest, eyes focused on the sight that made her stomach hurt in spite of herself.

She watched as Y/N's chest, covered in dried blood, continued to pulsate with every breath, as hematomas were already starting to spread across her face and torso, and as her plain face twisted in pain as soon as the nurse reached for another piece of glass. Just a few days ago, her first instinct would have been to rush to her protégé’s side and calm the agony she knew to be growing in her heart. But she'd vowed to keep her distance and stay in her current position: Captain Benson, unit chief.

All too quickly for the young detective's liking, the nurse finished her treatment and left the two law enforcement agents behind. Olivia had had the decency to wait until the door was closed before lashing out at her, which didn't stop Y/N from rolling her eyes. She'd already imagined this conversation - or rather, monologue - and knew she wouldn't come out of it unscathed. She'd probably lose her badge. No matter, she'd already lost her heart.

— Have you completely lost your mind? You could’ve been killed.

This was the cue for a lengthy sermon that she couldn't escape. The words left Olivia's mouth at a speed that seemed unbearable. She paced back and forth, her arms stretching out in waves of frustration and indignation, her cheeks rosy with emotion. She'd done some stupid things herself when she was just a rookie, but throwing herself off the third floor of a building had never been on the list.

— Are you done? y/n arched an eyebrow as Olivia finally paused. I saved a life today. While Amanda and that jerk were fighting over who had the biggest, which apparently I did.

— No, you refused to follow orders. Not only did you put yourself in danger, you put everyone's lives in danger. Heaven help us again that you were wearing your vest, otherwise it could have been a lot worse.

— I don't know why you care so much, you're just my boss!

Although these words were intended to hurt Olivia, it was Y/N who took the brunt of the blow. It was one thing to know that their relationship had been reduced to this, but it was quite another to admit it in person. The brunette was no longer entitled to worry so much, to ask her to watch out and send her a text as soon as she got home. Whatever had been was no more.

— Right, Olivia broke into an almost scoffing snort. Let me tell you, as your captain, that you won't be leaving the precinct for a long time.

— You’re benching me? Liv, you can’t do this!

— What you did was completely irresponsible. You don't want to follow orders, fine. But you're not leaving this desk without my permission.

The young detective had been holding her breath for a long time– far too long. She'd spent days avoiding conflict, lamenting in her corner, mourning the end of a story she'd thought would last forever. It wasn't just about what had just happened, it was something else, something more personal. She felt as if Olivia had no idea how to express her concern, as if her only option was to play the role of the big bad boss. But she was tired of hiding, of running away, of avoiding confrontation.

— Breaking my heart wasn't enough for you, uh? She rose from the bed, hastily putting on her jacket. If you want me to leave the squad, just say so.

For the first time, she faced her head-on. Head held high, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, ready to stand on tiptoe if that would help reach the brunette's height. She faced those brown pearls with all the courage she had left, her own eyes misty with tears she'd never let flow. This was it, so close yet so far, two souls who knew each other becoming strangers once again.

Olivia reached out with a last ounce of regret, brushing away a tear that had escaped down the young detective's cheek with the tip of her thumb. Her heart urged her to do more, to embrace this bruised woman, to bring her all the comfort she needed. She wanted to take Y/N home, wrap her in one of her shirts, tell her how much she loved her. In another life, where they were just two soul mates, where Olivia didn't have to worry about repercussions, whatever they might be. This was where she could find comfort.

— Go home. Take a few days. Get some rest. We'll talk about it when you get back.

The New Yorker had rarely seen a face shattered in a matter of seconds. Her words had urged Y/N to free herself from her hold, her head heavy and spinning from all the hassle and concussion she'd picked up from the blows. Her shoulder nudged her superior's as she walked by, a gesture of no little importance. She did not look back once to meet her former lover's gaze again.

Maybe she should have.

Maybe she would have seen the same love, the same tears, that Olivia saw in her eyes.

Maybe the ice wasn't so thin after all.

•••

Taglist: @electricboost @womenlovingwomen-imagines @hi-1-1-blog @emskisworld @enjoytheentireworld @arie109 @marvelandotheruniverseslover-adhd @philocalistwrites @wittygutsy @observeowl @ravennewlyn @tina-2005 @makkaroni221 @ssaaggwwaa @youdontknowwhotfiamm @mmmmokdok @hbkpop @micaluvssoccer @idk-whats-wrong-with-me-blog @nciscmjunkie @moonlightjxuregui @thefatobsession @12fluffybunny12 @scarletwitcher97 @thesamesweetie @idonothingallday @clozeliz @realgirlbossqueenslay @l4yne @rain-mikaelson @fanfiction-24824 @sammi1642 @inquisitive-nix @namelesscheshire @slasherthrillss @marvelwomenrule

[quartztwst]

RAHHHHHHSIUFDHAEJLRKFJLHJQRBHEALJSKDADUFKJ

DTIYS! BIRTHDAY EVENT! 🍨🥤

AHH i always wanted to do these but i saw another one going on twitter so i backed off 😭😭😭 this is my first hosting a dtiys thing so if i look messy im sorry

(MORE INFO BELOW)

This is an competition for my birthday which is on October 5th!! I hope to end submissions there but I will push back the date if needed.

For the DTIYS competiton, you will be drawing my persona Quartz!!

THE WINNER PRIZES

1st place - fully colored and rendered art !!

2nd place - black and white !!

3rd place - a silly sketch !!

RULES:

Please do not draw suggestive art of my character or any characters you plan to draw with my character (aka NO NSFW!!)

You can draw her with any of the octotrio!! (fem or not!!) but keep it platonic. (UNLESS IT’S FEM AZUL 😍😍😍😍)

No tracing over other people’s works and NO AI (if i have heard you using AI or tracing others works, I will disqualify you.)

If you post your art for the competition, please tag me!! -> @/quartztwst and put it under the tag #QueamSoda (SHIT SOUNDS CORNY I KNOW)

You can draw Quartz in different hairstyles if you want but please keep the rest of her the way she is.

Different posing and composition is allowed!!

You can add other things if you want!!

If you have won one of the prizes this is the list on what I’m not willing to draw:

Gore; I am not good at gore

Sexual/NSFW art; I am a teenager. Please do not request this.

No proship/depictions of p*dophilia

Submission deadline is October 5th!!✨

if you need me to push back the date a little, please let me know!

ALSO!! Do your daily clicks!!

[onehoplessromantic]

B. Bradshaw | Masterlist

Top Gun - Maverick

Updated: 12/18/2024 [link check]

!!authors!! if u want something removed plz pm me 💕 ily

Hi!!! So? This is it! I've been continuously cringing at myself for even making the first search for this the other day but I did. I ended up falling down a rabbit hole full of incredible fics written by some incredible people so I hope you give it a look. No need to judge me, I'm already judging myself T-T.

peace!

PSA: if you want to be kept up to date with the happenings of this list you can sign up for my tag list here so you will be notified when i add fics or chapters and you can choose to keep up with bigger announcements as well

fluff-> 🤍 | smut -> 🍋 | angst -> 🌧️ | major tw -> ‼️

Series

☆ ALTITUDE | @tongue-like-a-razor

13 chapters | on hold | 🌧️🤍

Sydney is not a pilot. But she knows all their tricks. That's why, when she meets the smooth-talking Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, she's not falling for any of them. She's not falling for him, either.

☆ ARE WE STILL FRIENDS? | @perpetuallydaydreaming

12 chapters | complete | 🤍🌧️🍋

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw and you have been friends since you can remember, just friends (unfortunately) but when you are called back to Top Gun everything changes...

☆ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY | @feralforfrank

3 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

Rooster and you have never liked each other. One night at the Hard Deck is enough to change the dynamic between you.

☆ IF IT MAKES YOU HAPPY | @bloatedandalone04

4 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍🍋

The one where you give Bradley your heart and he breaks it.

☆ FAKING IT | @tongue-like-a-razor

8 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

☆ AT LEAST I LET THE LIGHT IN | @heartsofminds

1 chapter | on hold (?) | 🌧️‼️

Bradley is on a downward spiral and Natasha doesn't know how much more she can take - unofficial sequel to 'cause no one breaks my heart like you (linked here)

☆ DRUNK IN LOVE / DRUNK IN LOVE | @feralforfrank

2 chapters | complete | 🌧️🤍

Rooster brings a drunk!reader to his house. What happens when you wake up in bed with Rooster, your sworn rival?

☆ THIS LOVE CAME BACK TO ME | @beyondthesefourwalls

13 chapters | complete | 🌧️‼️‼️

You and Bradley hadn’t ended on bad terms; really, you stopped before the two of you could ever truly begin. Still, in the last seven months, you had never completely left his mind. So when you suddenly appeared in front of him at the bar, asking for a favor and pulling him in for a kiss, he thought maybe it was a perfect opportunity to see if this time, things could be different. But what neither of realized was that there’s more going on than just rekindling a lost romance, and it might not be as easy as simply wanting it.

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE read the warnings carefully before reading this story!!

☆ REMEMBER YOU EVEN WHEN I DON'T | @beyondthesefourwalls

10 chapters | complete | 🤍🍋🌧️

A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting right beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement

☆ HOTTER THAN TEXAS | @tongue-like-a-razor

3 chapters | ongoing | 🤍

Bradley Bradshaw is tasked with transporting a not-so-delicate package in the form of Jake Seresin's baby sister, who turns out to be Bradley's dream girl worst nightmare.

Oneshots

☆ BRAD BRAD | @peterparkersnose

wc: 1.9k | 🤍🌧️

teasing, intimidation, situationship coming to a close, ANGST, mentions of death and dealing with death, rooster is in denial of looove, fluff at the end

Rooster gets upset when a harmless joke crosses the line.

☆ "YOU TOLD ME NOT TO WORRY ABOUT THEM" | @katsu28

wc: 1.3k | request | 🌧️🤍

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x aviator!reader, callsign casper (like the ghost hehe), some swearing

Rooster gets upset when pilot hazing goes too far

☆ LOVE IN THE DARK | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 2.8k | 🌧️

swearing, angst, sad boy bradley, lowkey depressed reader, more angst bc im sick and unhappy about it, new theme

The one where the deployments become too much.

☆ WHEN I PICTURE MYSELF HAPPY, I SEE YOU | @feralforfrank

wc: idk loll | prompt | 🌧️🤍

angst with a happy ending, miscommunication trope (?), nondescriptive reader

Rooster and reader fight, but they make up in their own way.

☆ "THATS NOT WHAT I MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT" | @katsu28

wc: 1.7k | request | 🌧️

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader, some swearing, angst

You miss Bradley so much while he's away, in trying to communicate this to him, lines get crossed and emotions rise.

☆ CRUMBLE | @daddy-bradley

wc: idk | 🌧️🤍

angst, cursing, mentions of parental insecurity, depression, anxiety, has a happy ending

You and Bradley are having your first fight after your baby is born. How will you both come to a solution and learn to cope through this together.

☆ 'CAUSE NO ONE BREAKS MY HEART LIKE YOU | @heartsofminds

wc: 19k | 🌧️‼️

heavy angst, miscommunication, heartbreak, right person wrong universe type shit, slow burn angst, disrespect towards women, drinking, bradley is a dick

Bradley Bradshaw is terrified of commitment and he decides to stop being selfish (even though its hard to see)

☆ MIDNIGHT RAIN | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 3.6k | 🤍🍋🌧️‼️

fluff, smut, angst, oral (f receiving), mentions/descriptions of bad past relationships, mentions of abuse, past abuse, toxic ex, trauma?, bad coping habits, arguments, crying, swearing

The one where Bradley is the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, but even he cant fully erase the bad memories of your last relationship.

☆ THINGS UNSEEN AND HEARD | @bloatedandalone04

wc: 4.1k | 🍋🌧️🤍

smut, angst, fluff, obvious bradley insecurities, self-deprecating thoughts, unprotected sex, swearing, alcohol consumption, maybe more

The one where you overhear Bradley talk about you to Jake and decide to give him the space he apparently wanted.

☆ THE STACHE INCIDENT | @feralforfrank

wc: no clue | drabble | 🤍

tooth rotting fluff, its honestly tragic

the title says all you need to know

☆ WHO DID THIS TO YOU? | @feralforfrank

wc: i dunno | 🌧️🤍

accidental injury (reader got hit in the face), crying, nondescript reader

It’s a drabble, I cant say much…

☆ THE ZIPPER INCIDENT | @tongue-like-a-razor

wc: i honestly, truly, don’t know | request | 🌧️🤍

fluff, angst, swearing, a pinch of smut, you stand up your date, which is shitty of you, but it’s probably worth it

You’re running late and you need help zipping up your dress. After recovering from the initial shock of seeing you all dolled up, Rooster is more than happy to assist.

☆ SLEEPYHEAD | @roosterbruiser

wc: *shrugs* | blurb | 🤍

tooth-rotting fluff, sleepy bradley

just read it goddamnit 🥹

☆ PERMANENT STATE OF OBLIVION | @topgun-imagines

wc: 3.2k | request | 🌧️🤍

drinking, arguments, angsty feelings

Despite all the times you have tried to make your feelings for the mustached pilot obvious, he still hasn't caught on. You make things clear one night at the hard deck.

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ⓒ onehopelessromantic, December 2024