#it was such a freeing realisation to make

[enhard]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚ ✩

sim jaeyun — “use me” (MDNI)

(wrote this just thinking how jake has pretty veiny hands to match his big veiny cock ♡︎)

pairing: bf!s.jy x fem!reader

: you’re pissed at your boyfriend for ignoring you but luckily he knows the best way to help you calm down… using his fingers of course ! but that’s not all

cw: smut, fingering, hand kink, size kink, riding, cockwarming, creampie, squirting, lots of stretching out, pet names, praising, fucking while on call with others, jake is just packing ughh </33

You love your boyfriend, obviously, but you started hating how he spent more time playing with his friends rather than hanging out with you.

Every time he had free time you’d ask him to sleep over at his and he accepted whenever you would ask. However… he would spend his time clicking away at his computer screen, his pretty fingers moving along the keyboard keys.

You’d sit with your arms resting on your knees, curdled up on his bed watching him.

“Hurry through here so we can corner these guys.. come on, faster, faster!” he says, speaking to Heeseung, Jungwon and Sunghoon through his headset. He’s been playing with them for hours now, and you just spend your time listening to him. The blue light from the screen emits onto his glasses, spreading on his whole face.

You scrolled your phone for a bit, but how much more could you scroll really? You desperately needed his attention, you missed his sweet words and his touch.

Without wanting to disturb him, you walk behind his gaming chair, wrapping your arms around his abdomen. He had to watch how he reacted cause the others could hear his every movement. “Oh..hey my love, what’s up?” he says, still focused on the screen. Your mood changes again, seeing how uninterested he is, not even bothering to look at you. You quickly take your hands off him and back off, that move making him look back at you for a split second.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, shooting another enemy.

“Forget it, i’m going home.” you say, the want to stay getting lesser and lesser.

“Wait.. what? what do you mean..?” he says, immediately grabbing his headset to take it off his head. He leaves the keyboard in the middle of the online game, faint sounds of the guys’ screams coming from the headphones.

“I wanna go home.” you look down.

“I’m sorry my love… I was totally ignoring you. I didn’t realise. I’ll leave the game right now.” he gently grabs your hands, looking up at you like a guilty puppy.

You stop him. “I’m just mad at you. How can you invite me over then just.. ignore me like that??” you snap.

He looks down again. “I’m acting so stupid. I’m sorry.. is there any way I can make it up to you?”

As he’s massaging your fingers with his, you look down, noticing the way his joints move. The amount of small veins he has in his hand and how easily you can trace them with your touch. You stare at his slender fingers, his perfect trimmed nails… just getting an idea.

“Jake..” you whisper, pulling him into a soft kiss. As you lean in, he grabs onto one side of your jaw, pulling you closer to him. You almost sit on his lap, before he stands up to make you walk back to his bed. You both make out for a bit, barely getting enough of each other’s lips.

He lays you on his bed, getting on top of you to continue kissing you. It’s just like he knows what you want to forgive him. “Let me make you happy… what do you think?” he smiles softly. You just nod, looking up at him with desperate but determined eyes.

His fingers slyly cross your neck, down your collarbone and down your shirt. He uses one hand to massage your whole chest through your large shirt. He slowly touches you all over, before stopping at your hips, where the shirt ends. he moves his fingers up your shirt, on your abdomen, finally sliding it off you from above your head. Your breasts now fully in his view, he smiles upon looking at them.

“You’re so damn perfect. I love you so much.” he says. his fingers cage your tits with a squeeze, trying to make the best of it with how much time he has until his members realise he’s gone.

“I love you too baby.” you say back shyly, biting your lip after watching his veiny hands touch you all over. His fingers are genuinely perfect, the way his hands are so soft on your plush skin, pretty pink knuckles and hands just a little cold to make you shiver.

He finally moves down to your pants, sliding them off in one move, making you spread your legs a bit so he can take them off. You’re just left in your underwear now, already soaked. You’re waiting for his slender fingers to welcome your pussy with a touch, but he has other plans. Instead, he picks you up in his embrace, legs wrapped around his waist. Your wet underwear leaves an embarrassing stain on his plain white shirt but he doesn’t mind.

He buries his head into your neck while he walks back to the desk. “You’re so wet for me, love.” He says satisfied. “Now you better stay quiet, the mic is on you and… you don’t want them to hear you, do you?” you look at him a bit scared of the situation, but you shake your head. “Good girl, stay quiet for me then.” he reassures.

Jake sits back down on the chair, making you sit on his lap, facing him. He places the mic of the headset right close to you telling the guys that he’s finally back. He puts the headset on one of your ears, letting you hear him aswell with the other. Now his friends are just talking about random things while you hear them with one ear, and your boyfriend’s voice in the other. You stay completely quiet but he makes a move, leaning in to your face to tell his members that he’s going to be away from his keyboard for a bit again.

After he says that, he leans back into his chair and immediately rips your underwear off. He makes a big hole in them not even bothering to take them off. Jake shyly touches your sensitive clit with the bud of his thumb, tracing small circles around it. He looks at what he’s doing the entire time, admiring how wet you could’ve gotten for him in this time.

He pulls his fingers away to shove them in your mouth, making you lick and suck on his fingers for a minute or so. The fingers get coated in your saliva, and he pulls them out to continue touching your clit. You succeed staying quiet, grabbing his shoulders with both your hands. He picks up his pace, beginning to squeeze the sensible skin, pinching it and dragging it with his fingers. “So good.” He whispers. You close your mouth shut, trying your hardest not to make a sound, the guys’ voices echoing through your head.

After he’s done abusing your clit, he moves down to your folds, touching all over them with his wet fingers. He stops at your desperate hole, slowly pushing one finger inside. You close your eyes, your lips parting at the sudden feeling. Your body jerks up automatically as you let out a heavy breath.

As your eyelids connect, they crush two sweet tears in between them.

Jake reaches for the mic, holding it in his palm so the sound muffles. “I barely shoved my finger inside, princess. Stay still.” He says, moving his fingers slowly in and out of you. Your juices run down his knuckles as you sit there on his lap shamefully. You grab onto his shoulder blades, trying your best to stay quiet.

He takes his hand away from the mic, placing it on your thigh instead. He sneaks another finger in, making you leave out a small sound. He looks up at you with his glistening puppy eyes, smiling ever so slightly with the corners of his mouth. He picks up his pace significantly, the feeling of his fingers so deep inside your core making you want to scream right there. If there’s one thing you love about your boyfriend’s physical appearance it HAS to be his hands.

They’re so soft, perfect for holding or.. you know, feeling.

He takes really good care of his hands, specially for you. He makes sure he stays on the top of his hygiene mostly for moments like these. You slowly lean in to give him a quiet kiss, muffling a moan that was forming in the back of your throat. The buds of his fingers rub against the best spot as he curls them inside, making you leave out a louder sound. Luckily his members were preoccupied with the game and didn’t really pay attention to what they heard.

Jake’s eyebrows raised slightly, speeding up even more. You start shaking your head, barely being able to contain yourself anymore. Your poor underwear is stuck to your skin, almost fully wet against it. “J…Jake.. I can’t please.. i… please…” you plead in a faint whisper.

“What’s that, love? tell me clearly.” he says, clearly knowing what you’re about to say but he still loves teasing you for it.

“Gonna cum…. oh m… fucking days. Please. Let me.. cum..” you whisper so slightly again, the sound barely hitting his ears.

“Keep quiet though, i’m letting you finish don’t worry.” he keeps going, massaging your thigh with his other hand. You immediately feel the knot in your stomach unleash with a large gush that spreads down his fingers and onto his sweatpants. You cover your mouth with your hand really tightening your palm on your face.

He smiles in satisfaction, pulling his fingers out to shove them inside his mouth. He licks his fingers to be able to taste you on his tongue, and he finally grabs onto your ass. He gives it a little playful slap before grinding you on him. You manage to calm your high down just to focus on him. You look down at his bulge forming in his now wet stained pants.

Jake has always been hard to take, in other words, he’s just packing. It never demotivated you to take him whole, no matter how much he stretched you out. Even his half-hard dick is hard to grab with one hand. That’s why when you slide his sweatpants off, you smile at him before barely wrapping one hand around his cock. You lazily stroke him to get him rock hard, your wet pussy just patiently waiting right next to it.

“Are you gonna be able to take it?” he looks at you understanding, knowing how before you would end up so stretched out after. You nod your head, sure of your actions this time.

“I can.” you reply. Once he’s fully hard, you trace a finger on the veins on his dick. Each and every one. You lick your lips before letting out a string of saliva fall down his cock, lubricating it a bit before positioning his tip on your hole. You take a deep breath as you sit on him slowly. He stretches you out more and more, and he insists on slowing everything down for you but you were so desperate to have him inside you that you just didn’t care anymore.

He keeps telling you to stop for yourself, to pull out if it’s too much. Instead you shush him, leaning your head back as you let yourself down on him. When you finally take him whole, your body shakes slightly at the feeling. You feel so full right now, so stretched. But there’s no way you’re pulling away.

His members start wondering where he is, and how they keep hearing breathing as he’s not in the game and he’s been missing for so long already. You panic a little upon hearing them ask about Jake but instead you just close your eyes, feeling his tip in your deepest spot.

“Oh fucks… sake. You’re so.. damn huge.” you whisper cry to him. He giggles a bit, only looking at you the whole time. “Let me see you move on it.” he grabs onto your waist gently.

You suck on your bottom lip as you sit back up, then back down on him. You start off with small bounces and somehow it never gets easier, no matter how many times you’ve both done this before. You do go slow for your own good, and he lets you go at your own pace.

He admires your pretty face contorting in all ways to his dick, but that just might be his favourite part. He loves how you react. You try your best picking up your pace, figuring he might’ve gotten bored already.

But it was the exact opposite, he didn’t mind, he wanted you to feel comfortable. You grind yourself on him a bit faster and he lets out a groan. “You’re so tight around me.. sweetheart..” he thinks he hasn’t stretched you out enough beforehand. “We can.. do it..” you say, already out of breath.

You spread your legs a bit more, releasing a bit of tension on him. You succeed bouncing on his big cock, whilst using his shoulders as handles. “You’re taking it so good..” he whispers. You go faster at his praises.

He’s been stretching you out for a while now, and it definitely got easier over time. The slight discomfort turned into satisfying pleasure for you. His swollen tip hits your g-spot every single time, making you want to cum right there. However, he’s been wanting to finish ever since you started. You feel so good wrapped around him he’s surprised he hasn’t let out a moan yet.

He rests his head on the chair enjoying your every move on him. You go faster again, getting closer to cumming again. Your puffy cunt is crying at this point, while you let out a slight moan with every bounce.

At this point his friends might’ve caught on, but you couldn’t care less, you just needed him and that’s it. You keep going for a bit before, before rolling your eyes back to cum. “I’m— again… I… oh m… Jake..” you struggle.

You don’t get to say anything else because you instantly finish again, your thighs shaking on top of him. You moan ever louder than before and your squirt runs down his legs now. He bites his lower lip, making you keep going with his palms on your ass. Your tired body keeps bouncing on him, and after a few more bounces, he cums all deep inside you. His dick twitches in sync with his moans after pulling out. His cum slowly pours out of you and onto the chair. You both sit like that for a few minutes to regain your thoughts, but instead he just grabs your ass again, shoving you back onto his cock.

A bit of cum shoves back into you too, a white ring forming around his base. You wrap your arms around his neck, as well as your head buried deep into it. You give his hot skin multiple kisses with heavy breaths. You both end up sweaty, breathing your lungs out. He keeps his dick inside you, without moving you or anything. He moves his chair back to his desk, getting that headset off you. Before placing it on his head, he gives your exposed ear a kiss. “Such a good girl, you took me so well.” he says before putting his headset back on and fixing his mic to his mouth.

“Hey guys, sorry I was gone for so long. Just wanted to make my girl happy.”

[dreamerdrop]

honestly, i think one of the reasons i can tolerate julian’s early seasons' behaviour towards jadzia is the way he approaches miles in an almost identical way, being annoyingly persistent, desperate for any chance to spend time alone with them, incredibly uncomfortable moments of trying to get miles to use his first name, etc. etc.

and whether I read that as julian having a similar puppy crush on miles as he does on jadzia or interpret it as a platonic desperation to make friends, either way, it at least tells me that for all julians faults (and boy are there plenty to go around—) he at least… isn’t Like That towards jadzia because she’s a woman, y’know? he’s just Like That with everyone because he’s overenthusiastic and lacking in social graces.

like, his behaviour towards jadzia is super uncomfortable and all, but the fact that he then turns around and acts the exact same way to his middle aged male coworker just… it adds something in context that shifts it from “wow julian is really creepy with women” to “wow julian is an idiot with people” for me.

i mean he is still pretty creepy with women a lot of the time and has obvious issues with toxic masculinity but at least his horrendous ‘wear them down until they say yes’ approach is apparently just the only way he seems to have of getting to know people and making friends.

[bitchy-craft]

PICK A CARD: Your most effective manifestation method

Hello and welcome to this new reading! I will tell you the most effective manifestation methods that work for you. I hope you all enjoy it!

FREE READING: if you subscribe to my patreon no matter the tier before February 7th you will get a free question of choice.

Masterpost > Paid Readings > Subliminal Channel > PATREON masterlist [NEW]

Extended version is found on my patreon, the link of which is here

~pick a card~

Pile 1:

Writing affirmations. Any form of writing down affirmations is going to be the manifestation method that works best for you. In order to really understand what you want you have to write something down in order to really imagine it. As you write down your affirmations you put energy into the thought of said manifestation, you essentially lock your wishes, wants, and needs into said affirmations. You put the energy into the text, into the physical display of your intentions. That in itself makes things very clear for you; you can not only feel it but see it as well.

Pile 2:

The shower method. The best way for you to manifest things would be with the shower method. Essentially you look at something that would show your manifestations come to life (your phone for example, if you want a text, email, a notification etc.). You assume that you see it, put it down and go and take a shower (or a bath). As you do so you imagine how you will react or respond to this message as if it were real. You make yourself believe by thinking beyond the actual manifestation that the manifestation has already formed. Once you’re done you look at that thing you saw your wishes on, and they will be there.

Pile 3:

Vision board / scripting will be the manifestation method that would work very well for you. Essentially you will put your wished outcomes into the physical. Not only will you be able to let out your creative freedom and get incredibly excited about what it is that is going to come into your life, you will also be able to see what it is that you want to accomplish. Visuals help you realise and believe what you want is actually possible to accomplish, because you can physically see it already. Scripting and writing down all of your manifestations can also do that whenever you read it back, yet it will strengthen your imagination and make you see it in your mind’s eye better than before. You train that eye when you write things down, and as you write you don’t write it down as a ‘what if’, you write in the present, as if it’s already happening. This strengthens your belief in your manifestations being fact.

[aspenmissing]

Firstly I adore how you write the arcane crew with kids ❤️ What if they have kids but the reader us a feline vastaya ? How mixed would they be ?

ᴋɪᴛᴛᴇɴꜱ?

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ/ᴊɪɴx || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ || 8372 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴅɪꜱᴄʀɪᴍɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɢᴀɪɴꜱᴛ ᴠᴀꜱᴛᴀʏᴀ'ꜱ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴀᴡᴡ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ! ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʜᴏᴡ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ᴅ ᴀᴄᴛ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴅ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʀᴇɴ! ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴄᴜᴛ ᴍɪx ʙᴇᴛᴡᴇᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀ ᴠᴀꜱᴛᴀʏᴀ ɪꜱ ᴀᴅᴏʀᴀʙʟᴇ! ɪ ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏꜰꜰ ᴍʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴠᴀꜱᴛᴀʏᴀ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ, ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ! <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴊɪɴx

JAYCE

Years after Jayce’s first encounter with Y/N, their bond had deepened, not just through shared interests, but through the way they balanced each other’s worlds—science and art, reason and magic. Their love had brought forth a daughter named Elena, a perfect blend of both their spirits. Elena inherited her father’s sharp, analytical mind and her mother’s free-spirited energy. In looks, she was a striking mix of both. She had her father’s deep, expressive brown eyes and tan skin, with a soft, angular face that reflected his features. From Y/N, she inherited a darker, more mysterious quality—her mother’s delicate pointed ears and long, flowing hair that shimmered with a hint of silver. Elena’s tail, inherited from Y/N’s Vastaya heritage, was an elegant and playful addition, often swishing with excitement as she moved.

Her childhood was filled with exploration, whether through the scientific marvels of Piltover or the ancient mysteries Y/N had whispered about while they crafted together.

=

One day, when Elena was around 10, she accompanied her parents through the bustling Piltover marketplace. The stalls were alive with vendors selling everything from mechanical parts to exotic herbs. Elena darted from one stall to the next, mesmerised by the intricate clockwork trinkets, the vivid fabrics, and the glittering jars of strange potions.

"Mom, look!" Elena tugged at Y/N’s sleeve, halting in front of a stall filled with coloured threads that shimmered like the paints her mother used in her art. Y/N crouched beside her daughter, smiling warmly.

"That's beautiful, Elena," Y/N said softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Just like your work."

Elena's eyes sparkled. "I want to make something with these. Maybe a new quilt for the house!" she said excitedly.

Jayce, overhearing them, smiled with amusement. “Already planning ahead, huh? You do know your mum’s quilts are legendary in Piltover, right?”

Y/N chuckled, eyes softening at the thought. "She has a good teacher."

Elena beamed with pride, her excitement growing as she skipped to another stall. Her eyes landed on a peculiar set of enchanted crystals that hummed with strange energy. Her fingers hovered over them, intrigued by their shimmer.

“Are you sure those are safe?” Jayce asked, his protective instincts flaring.

Elena turned with a cheeky grin. “Of course! They’re just… magical.”

Y/N and Jayce exchanged a glance, realising their daughter was a fascinating blend of both their worlds—the rational mind of a scientist and the wonder of an artist with an affinity for the mystical.

=

As the day wore on, Elena continued her exploration, picking up trinkets and curious finds along the way. She was their child through and through—always reaching for something new, whether in the mechanics of Piltover or the untold secrets of magic.

Jayce watched his daughter from a distance as she carefully examined a piece of clockwork, her brow furrowed in concentration, and smiled. He saw so much of himself in her—a mind that could never be contained within the bounds of tradition, always reaching for more.

And as Y/N walked beside him, their hands intertwined, they knew their daughter would continue to weave their worlds together in ways they had never imagined. From Piltover’s mechanical wonders to the untold mysteries of magic, Elena was destined to make her own mark.

Their life in Piltover wasn’t always easy—being a Vastaya in a city of high society meant stares and whispered comments, especially when they strolled together as a family. But Y/N stood tall, her tail swaying behind her as she held Jayce’s hand firmly. The occasional glance or whisper from a passerby didn’t faze her. She had learned to rise above it long ago. Jayce, ever the protector, offered her silent reassurance with his touch, the steady strength of his presence beside her.

"Careful, Elena!" Y/N called after their daughter, who had run ahead in excitement. "Don’t run off too far."

Elena turned with a wide grin, slowing her pace. "I’m just looking for something fun!" she replied, her voice filled with the wonder of a child exploring the world.

A few people glanced at Elena’s energetic enthusiasm, the contrast to the calm sophistication of Piltover’s streets. Y/N caught the looks and flicked her ears in amusement, but Jayce didn’t miss a beat, squeezing her hand as they walked side by side. "She’s got your spirit, doesn’t she?" he teased.

Y/N smiled, her tail flicking behind her as she watched Elena. "She’s got a bit of both of us in her. I just hope she doesn’t get into too much trouble."

"You two are a lot of trouble together," Jayce teased back, his lips curling into a smile.

=

The warmth of the moment was something Jayce cherished. When they first met, he could never have imagined a life like this—a life filled with love, family, and a deep connection to a woman so different from him. Y/N, with her vast knowledge of Zaun, her calming presence, and her fierce protectiveness, had swept him off his feet. She had her own strength, her own struggles, yet she had always supported him, as he had supported her.

And then there was Elena a living testament to the way they’d both changed and grown. Elena was a reminder that love could transcend all—whether it be between cities or species. She had inherited Jayce’s insatiable curiosity and Y/N’s ethereal presence, a calm and warmth that grounded everything. She was the perfect mix of their worlds, a child with a fierce mind and an open heart.

As they walked further through the market, Elena suddenly stopped in front of a stall brimming with art supplies—paints, brushes, and sketchbooks. Her eyes widened with excitement.

"Mum! Look!" she exclaimed, tugging at Y/N’s sleeve. "They’ve got paints and all the colours you use for your lessons! Can we get some?" Her fingers traced the vibrant shades, her imagination alight with possibilities.

Y/N chuckled and knelt down beside her daughter. "You’ve got a good eye, sweetheart. These would be perfect for some new artwork. Let’s pick out the colours we need, and we can work on something together."

As they lost themselves in the moment, a passerby lingered a bit too long, his eyes darting from Y/N’s tail to Elena’s pointed ears. Y/N noticed and smiled politely, but the man quickly averted his gaze, muttering something under his breath. Jayce didn’t miss it either. He shot the man a pointed look, his jaw tightening, but he didn’t say a word.

Elena, her tail flicking behind her in excitement, jumped up. "Can I make something for Dad too? Like you always do for him, Mum?" she asked eagerly, her face lighting up with the joy of creating something special for her father.

Y/N smiled softly, resting a hand on Elena’s shoulder. "Of course, darling. We’ll make something special. How about a painting for Dad to hang in the workshop?"

Jayce couldn’t help but laugh softly. "You two will have a whole gallery before the day’s out, won’t you?"

Y/N winked at him playfully. "Perhaps. But we’ll make it something extra special for you. A masterpiece from both of us."

Elena nodded enthusiastically, her bright eyes alight with excitement. "Yeah, Dad! You’ll love it!"

Jayce smiled, kneeling down to their level. "I can’t wait to see what you both come up with." His heart swelled at the thought of his daughter and Y/N creating something together—an expression of their love for him. It was moments like this that made everything worthwhile.

As the family continued their walk through Piltover, Jayce couldn’t help but feel a deep peace settle in his chest. He had never believed in destiny, but the life he had now felt right—right in a way he couldn’t quite explain. Y/N and Elena were his world, and he would do anything to protect them. The life they had built, the family they had created, was everything he had ever wanted, even if it had come in ways he hadn’t expected.

There was a perfect balance in their little family—Jayce’s determination and vision, Y/N’s wisdom and gentleness, and Elena’s playful energy and unyielding love for both her parents. Together, they were a testament to what could be built when two people from different worlds came together with understanding, compassion, and love. Elena had the best of both worlds in her, and that made her something rare, something special.

=

As they headed home, the sun setting behind them, Jayce whispered softly to Y/N, "Thank you for this... for everything."

Y/N’s eyes softened as she leaned into him. "It’s not just me, Jayce. It’s all of us—together."

With her head resting against his shoulder, they walked into the future hand in hand, ready to face whatever challenges came next. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the warmth of their love, Jayce knew that the future was theirs to shape, together. The stares, the whispers, the discomfort of others couldn’t touch what they had—what they had built. Nothing could.

VIKTOR

Years had passed since that fateful night in the alleyways of Zaun, when Viktor had first reached out to Y/N, guiding her away from the chaos of the streets. That moment had been the beginning of a journey neither of them could have predicted—a journey filled with both hardship and unexpected tenderness. As the years went by, their bond grew stronger, woven together by shared moments of quiet understanding, and an unspoken promise to never let go.

Viktor’s path had eventually led him to Piltover, a city of progress, knowledge, and endless possibility. The brilliant Heimerdinger had recognised Viktor’s genius and, after much persuasion, brought him to Piltover to become his assistant. It had been a turning point in Viktor’s life, a chance to leave Zaun behind and be recognised for his talents. But even in the gleaming towers of Piltover, Viktor had never left Y/N behind. She had been by his side through it all, as steadfast as ever, and it was in her presence that he found his peace.

Though Piltover was unfamiliar, even overwhelming at times, Y/N had adapted with grace. The city's bustling streets and towering structures felt a world apart from the alleys of Zaun, but Y/N’s ability to blend her Vastaya heritage with the world of Piltover’s scientific and artistic communities had made her a quiet but respected presence. Her talents—both as a healer and a seamstress—were highly valued, and over time, she had carved out a place for herself, always with Viktor’s unwavering support.

Their shared history, their differences, and their shared journey from the broken streets of Zaun to the polished city of Piltover were reflected in their daughter—Lira.

Lira had inherited both of her parents' qualities, yet she was truly a reflection of both their worlds. She had taken more after Y/N in many ways—her skin, the same faint greyish hue, her long, delicate ears, and her tail, which swished expressively behind her. But there was also something of Viktor in her, something sharp in her eyes—a quiet intelligence, an almost unnatural understanding of things. Lira was a blend of their two worlds, and in her, they saw the future—a new generation, capable of bridging the divide between science and nature.

They had named her Lira for a reason—a name that meant "song" in the old language of her mother’s people. Lira was a name that symbolised harmony, the blending of two very different worlds. It was also a tribute to her mother's Vastaya heritage, with the hope that, like the name itself, she would find a way to bring unity and understanding to the world, just as her parents had.

Viktor’s heart would swell with pride each time Lira came running into his arms. Her small hands would touch his cane, her eyes full of wonder as she asked him to explain the intricacies of his latest invention. Though Viktor had always been focused on logic, reason, and progress, the sight of his daughter’s curiosity, her hunger to understand the world, softened him in ways he never thought possible. Lira would sit beside him for hours, watching his work with wide eyes, absorbing every detail with an intensity that made Viktor realise that, perhaps, the future was more than just a series of equations. It was in the small moments—like the gleam in his daughter’s eyes when she solved a problem or the way her fingers danced across the pieces of his machines, as though she were already a part of his world.

But Lira also shared her mother’s creativity, her deep understanding of beauty in its many forms. While Viktor worked tirelessly at his projects, Lira would often be by Y/N’s side, learning the intricate arts of weaving, stitching, and crafting. Y/N would teach Lira how to create beauty from the raw, the imperfect—how to use her hands to shape something meaningful from the world around her. Whether it was repairing a tear in a favourite shirt or creating a new quilt from old scraps, Y/N would impart lessons that spoke not only of the skill of the craft but of the deeper understanding of the world’s rhythm—its delicate balance between nature and the manmade.

=

One evening, the soft glow of Piltover’s lights filtered through the windows of their home, casting long, gentle shadows across the room. Viktor was at his desk, lost in thought as he worked, his mind consumed by the details of a new project he was collaborating on with Heimerdinger. The familiar hum of machinery drifted in from the workshop, a constant companion in Viktor’s life. Yet, despite his mind’s focus, his thoughts kept drifting back to how much had changed since that first moment he had helped Y/N in the alley.

Behind him, Viktor heard the soft rhythm of Y/N’s sewing machine—a comforting sound that always brought him a sense of peace. Lira’s voice bubbled up with questions, her soft laughter filling the house as she worked with her mother. The scene was so familiar, so comforting, that Viktor couldn’t help but close his eyes for a moment, letting the peace of it wash over him. It was a far cry from the days of Zaun—no more threats lurking in the shadows, no more hunger or cold.

“Viktor?” Y/N’s voice, warm and calm, broke through his reverie. He turned in his chair to see her standing in the doorway, a soft smile on her face. Lira was perched on her mother’s shoulder, her small arms wrapped around Y/N’s neck as she gazed at her father with wide, eager eyes.

Viktor’s heart swelled with love at the sight of them. “Yes, Lásko” he replied, his voice thick with affection. (Love)

Y/N crossed the room slowly, her movements as graceful as ever despite the tiredness that sometimes lingered in her body. She placed a gentle hand on Viktor’s shoulder, grounding him in the moment. “Lira’s been asking about your work again. She wants to understand how it all fits together.”

Viktor smiled, his eyes shifting to Lira, who was now standing at his side, her bright eyes fixed on him with an intensity that reminded him so much of himself as a child. “Does she now?” Viktor said with a chuckle. “She’s certainly persistent.”

Y/N smiled, a touch of amusement in her voice. “Just like you,” she teased. “She wants to know how things work, how they fit together.”

Lira’s golden eyes widened with excitement, and she hopped down from her mother’s shoulder to run to Viktor’s side. “Papa, how do you make the parts move like that?” she asked eagerly, her tiny finger pointing to the small mechanical model sitting on his desk.

Viktor’s heart swelled with pride and affection. He took a deep breath, then gestured for Lira to come closer. “Well, Miláčku,” he began, bending down to her level, “it’s all about understanding the way the pieces fit together. It’s a bit like how your mother weaves her fabrics, you see?” (Sweetheart)

Lira tilted her head, processing the information, before repeating thoughtfully, “Like weaving?”

“Yes,” Viktor continued, his voice warm with encouragement. “Everything, whether it’s a machine or something more natural, is connected in some way. It’s just a matter of finding the right way to put it all together.”

Y/N watched the two of them, her heart full as she observed the bond that had flourished between Viktor and their daughter. Lira was a living testament to the way both of them had shaped her. The curiosity, the drive, the sense of wonder—all of it was there, in her.

The three of them stood together in that quiet moment, a family forged from the strength of their love, their shared creativity, and their unwavering belief in each other. The lights of Piltover shone brightly outside, but inside their home, there was a warmth that no machine could replicate. Together, they were a family—strong, united, and ready to face whatever the future held.

And as they stood there, Viktor couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. For the journey, for the lessons, for the love that had filled his life in ways he never thought possible. And for the tiny girl with the golden eyes, whose presence had made it all worthwhile.

“I’m glad we’re here,” Viktor whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Y/N smiled softly, resting her head on his shoulder as Lira clung to his side, her golden eyes wide with curiosity. “So am I, Viktor,” she said, her voice filled with quiet contentment. “So am I.”

JAYVIK

Several years had passed since that long, weary day in the lab. Time had a way of softening the sharp edges of past pain, but for Y/N, some wounds still lingered, just beneath the surface, waiting for the world outside to remind her of its harshness. Yet, in spite of these lingering scars, brighter days had emerged—days filled with laughter, love, and the indescribable joy of watching her children grow, finding their own voices in the world that had once felt so unkind.

On this particular afternoon, Y/N strolled through the park, her twins—Elowen and Cassian—holding tightly onto her hands as they skipped beside her. Elowen, with her wild curls bouncing in the breeze, had inherited Viktor’s meticulous nature but also Y/N’s boundless curiosity and wild spirit. She was always the first to ask questions about the world around her, eager to uncover the mysteries of both magic and science. Cassian, on the other hand, with his mischievous grin and dark eyes that mirrored Jayce’s, thrived on adventure. His curiosity often led him into trouble, but his infectious joy in exploring made up for it. Together, they were a perfect blend of their parents—two little bundles of energy, wonder, and mischief.

Viktor, leaning on his cane as always, followed closely behind them. His faint but content smile revealed how deeply he cherished these moments—the ones where time seemed to slow down, where the world faded away, and only the people at his side mattered. He was proud of his children, proud of Y/N, and proud of the family they had built together. And there was Jayce, walking beside him, just as devoted, just as protective. Y/N could see the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at their children, his love for them as fierce and unconditional as her own. Together, the three of them made a home, one built on love, understanding, and a shared commitment to protect each other from the cruel realities of the world outside.

=

But as they walked through the park, something stirred in Y/N—an old discomfort, a prickle of awareness that she couldn’t shake off. At first, it was subtle—just a few sideways glances from passersby. But as they continued, the stares grew longer, the whispers more frequent. She could hear the hushed voices, barely masked by the rustling of leaves and the laughter of children. Some of the looks were filled with curiosity, some with disdain. The word "unnatural" caught her ear, and muttered remarks about her “strange” heritage reached her with painful clarity.

Her chest tightened, and she could feel the familiar weight of their gaze bearing down on her. The faces that looked upon her with suspicion, fear, and even hatred never failed to cut through her, no matter how much time had passed. The tightness in her chest grew as she glanced down at Elowen and Cassian, who were oblivious to the tension in the air. They were laughing, caught up in their joy, but Y/N saw the way the world would see them too. Her children—her precious children—were not exempt from the cruel judgment. Their innocence would never be enough protection from the harshness of the world.

Viktor noticed the shift in her posture before she realised it herself. Her grip on Elowen and Cassian’s hands tightened, and her tail, once relaxed behind her, now flicked anxiously. He could see the muscles in her back tense, her ears flattening slightly in response to the murmurs and stares. He knew her so well that he didn’t need to ask. But he did, anyway.

“Y/N?” Viktor’s voice, low and cautious, reached her. He stopped beside her, gently placing a hand on her shoulder, his cane resting beside him. His other hand reached for hers, a quiet offering of support. “Is everything all right?”

Y/N blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts. She gave him a tight smile, but it was weak, strained. “It’s nothing,” she muttered, her voice faltering. “Let’s just go home.”

Viktor’s brows furrowed in concern. He knew her too well to be fooled by her words. He glanced around and saw what she saw—people still staring, still whispering. He could feel her anxiety, a tight knot in his chest as he struggled with the helplessness of not being able to shield her from it all. He said nothing, though, as they turned to leave, both of them guiding their children with quick, deliberate steps.

Cassian, sensing the shift in the mood, looked up at his mother with wide, innocent eyes. His gaze, full of concern, didn’t escape Y/N. “Mum? Why are we going home? We were having fun!”

Y/N forced a soft laugh, bending down to ruffle his dark hair, her heart aching with the weight of his words. “I know, sweetheart. We’ll come back another time, I promise.”

Elowen, always attuned to the emotions around her, glanced up at her mother with a furrowed brow. Her bright eyes, much like Viktor’s, narrowed with concern. “Are we going to be okay, Mama?”

Y/N’s heart clenched as she looked into her daughter’s earnest eyes, those same bright eyes that shone with curiosity and understanding. She kissed Elowen’s forehead gently, a soft whisper escaping her lips. “We’re always okay, Elowen. Always.”

Jayce, who had been walking slightly behind them, caught up and placed a hand on Y/N’s back. He had noticed the subtle shift in her mood, the change that always followed when the world became too much for her to bear. His voice, calm and steady, broke through her thoughts. “Don’t let them get to you, Y/N. They’re just ignorant.”

Y/N gave him a small smile, grateful for the support but not quite able to shake the lingering discomfort. “I know, Jayce. But it doesn’t make it easier.”

Jayce squeezed her shoulder gently. “We’ll make sure they never see the world the way we do,” he said, his tone filled with determination. “We’ll teach them how to rise above it. We’ll show them what true strength is. And they’ll grow up knowing that love and family are the most important things.”

Viktor nodded in agreement, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. “They already know what matters, Y/N. They’re growing up surrounded by love. That’s what will guide them.”

=

They continued their walk home in silence, Viktor keeping a protective hand on Y/N’s back, Jayce walking beside her, a quiet but unwavering presence. His warm smile, though faint, was a silent reassurance that they were all in this together. Elowen was perched on his shoulders, giggling with delight as she tugged on his hair playfully, while Cassian swung from his hand, laughing with each swing. Jayce, as always, did his best to be the stabilising force, effortlessly balancing the responsibility of keeping them safe while maintaining the lightness in his step that made the children feel unburdened by the world outside.

Y/N’s tail flicked nervously behind her, her unease bubbling under the surface despite the joy in her children’s laughter. She could feel the stares, the muttered comments, and the weight of the world pressing against her chest again. Viktor noticed her tension immediately and slowed his pace, coming closer to her side, his hand brushing against hers in quiet comfort. He knew her well enough to recognise the signs of her discomfort, though she was trying her best to hold herself together for the sake of their children.

=

As they neared their home, the murmurs faded into the background, replaced by the warm comfort of familiar streets, the comforting sense of belonging within their own space. Y/N sighed, the tightness in her chest easing as they reached the door. When the latch clicked shut behind them, a sense of relief washed over her like a wave. Here, in the sanctuary of their home, she was safe. She was with Viktor, Jayce, and their children—where the world couldn’t touch them so easily.

Viktor, ever observant, placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch gentle but steady. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, his voice full of empathy. “I know it’s not easy.”

Y/N exhaled a shaky breath and leaned into him, her head resting against his chest for a brief moment. The steady thrum of his heartbeat soothed her, grounding her in the present, in the love they had built together. “I just… I just want to protect them. I don’t want them to see the world like I do. I want them to grow up free of fear.”

Viktor’s hand moved to the back of her head, fingers carding through her hair in a gesture of care. “They will,” he reassured her. “They have us. And we’ll teach them what matters—love, understanding, and the strength to rise above the ignorance around us.”

Jayce, having entered behind them, placed a hand on Y/N’s other shoulder. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek, his voice low but filled with unshakable confidence. “They’ll never know the world like we do. They’re going to be better than that. And we’ll make sure of it.”

Y/N felt her heart swell with gratitude, her breath steadying as she looked at the men who stood beside her. Despite the world’s cruelty, she had this—she had Viktor, Jayce, and their children. Their family was her safe place, a foundation built on love, strength, and resilience. Together, they could weather any storm.

=

That night, as they settled in, Y/N tucked Elowen and Cassian into their beds, pressing gentle kisses to their foreheads. The twins were already drifting off to sleep, their innocent smiles and soft breaths reminding her of the purity of their hearts, untouched by the harshness of the world. “You’ll never have to carry the world’s burdens. We’ve got you. Always,” she whispered.

Her heart ached with love as she pulled the covers up around them, watching over them like a guardian, as Viktor and Jayce quietly stood by her side, sharing the weight of the moment. The world outside could be unforgiving, but within these walls, surrounded by their family, Y/N knew her children would always be safe. They had each other—and together, that was more than enough to face whatever the world threw their way.

With Viktor’s steady calm, Jayce’s boundless energy, and the love they shared, Y/N knew they would find a way through the darkest of times—together, stronger, united, and full of love. With their hearts intertwined, they were a force to be reckoned with, no matter what. And that made all the difference.

VANDER

As the months passed, life in the undercity settled into a familiar rhythm, but things were never quite the same after Y/N gave birth to Kael. The quiet, curious child brought with him a special kind of presence that seemed to resonate deeply within the walls of the Last Drop. From the moment he was born, Kael's appearance caught the eye of everyone in the bar. His features were a striking combination of Y/N and Vander—Vander's strong jawline and broad shoulders, but with Y/N's deep, almond-shaped eyes, shimmering with a mysterious wisdom far beyond his years. His small, cat-like nose and faint markings on his skin were unmistakable signs of his mother’s Vastaya heritage, marking him as something rare, something different in a world where differences were not always welcomed.

They named him Kael, meaning "mighty warrior" in an ancient tongue, as Vander had suggested. The name seemed fitting, not just for his appearance, but for the world he had been born into—one filled with struggle, hardship, and a need for strength. Y/N agreed, feeling the weight of the name as she held her son close. Vander, with his protective nature, already saw the resilience Kael carried, even as an infant, and he was proud to see that strength take root in his son. Y/N felt a similar bond, sensing that Kael was destined to carry a power that neither she nor Vander could fully comprehend.

In the meantime, the children of the Last Drop—Vi, Powder, Mylo, and Claggor—had grown especially fond of Kael. The little boy’s serene presence seemed to calm the chaos of the undercity, and the children couldn’t help but adore him. They took turns helping Y/N with him, vying for the opportunity to hold him, to make him laugh, or simply to spend time with him. Vi, ever the fierce protector, kept a close watch over her little brother, ensuring that nothing could harm him. Even in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the bar, she would often sit beside Y/N and Kael, offering a silent, watchful gaze over the newborn.

Powder, though usually lost in her own world, was particularly enamoured with Kael, often offering him her toys and coaxing a giggle or smile from him, her face lighting up with pure joy when he responded. Mylo, the prankster, joked that Kael would grow up to be a tough kid, always looking out for his sister, and while his words were playful, there was an undeniable truth to them—Kael already possessed a quiet strength that would make him stand tall when the time came. Vi, fiercely protective, always kept a watchful eye on him, whether he was peacefully napping or playing, and would stand guard, her instincts flaring if anything or anyone posed a threat. Claggor, the silent one, gravitated toward Kael, his usual quiet nature softening around the baby as he sat nearby, observing with a gentle, affectionate gaze. It was clear to everyone that, despite their differences, each of them held a deep, protective love for Kael, their bond as strong as family itself.

Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the way her children had embraced Kael. There was a tenderness in the way they interacted with him, a protective instinct that ran deep. Vander, too, found his heart swelling with pride every time he saw Kael surrounded by his "siblings," playing, laughing, and sharing in the simple joy of being together. In a world as harsh as Zaun, moments like these were rare, and Vander appreciated them more than anyone could know. He found peace in seeing Kael grow up in the warmth of his new family, surrounded by those who cared for him and would protect him fiercely.

However, as much as Kael was a light in their lives, the undercity was not without its shadows. Life here was brutal, and not everyone looked upon a Vastaya child with the same warmth that his "siblings" did. It was one thing for Vander and Y/N to protect him within the confines of the Last Drop, but outside, in the rough streets of Zaun, there were dangers lurking at every corner.

=

One day, when Y/N and Vander were busy tending to the bar, they decided to let the kids venture out to explore Zaun for a while. The air was thick with the usual mixture of industry, smoke, and the distant hum of machines. The kids roamed the streets, their laughter echoing off the walls of the narrow alleys, their boundless energy filling the cracks of the city. Vi kept an eye on Kael, who was nestled in her arms, his curious gaze taking in the world around him. Powder ran ahead, giggling as she chased after a small mechanical bird that had caught her eye. Mylo and Claggor wandered together, though Claggor’s eyes were always alert, and Mylo kept up his usual antics, cracking jokes and teasing the others.

It was during this outing that they encountered someone who would test their bond.

A man, clearly down on his luck, spotted Kael from across the street. His eyes narrowed when he saw the child’s markings, his lip curling in disgust. He had no love for the Vastaya, nor for anyone who didn’t belong fully to Zaun or Piltover. The sight of Kael, with his distinct features—a blend of Vander's sturdiness and Y/N’s exotic markings—filled the man with a deep sense of disdain. He muttered something under his breath, his hand gripping the edge of a nearby crate as he approached the group.

“You think you’re one of us?” the man sneered, his voice rough and threatening. “What, you think this little bastard belongs here? A freak like him don’t fit in, not with the city’s blood or with any of you.”

Vi’s protective instincts flared, and she stepped forward, her fists clenched. “Watch your mouth,” she said, her voice low but firm. “Don’t talk about him like that.”

The man, clearly not used to being challenged, took a step closer, his gaze now focused solely on Kael. “I’ve seen your kind before. You don’t belong here,” he spat, his words dripping with venom.

Powder, who had been playing nearby, immediately ran to Kael’s side, standing next to him with her fists raised in defiance. Mylo and Claggor moved in as well, standing shoulder to shoulder with Vi, their expressions serious. The playful antics had fallen away, replaced by the fierce loyalty they had for each other.

“We don’t let anyone talk about him like that,” Mylo said, his usual cheeky grin replaced by a determined scowl. “You need to get lost.”

The man, realising he was surrounded, hesitated for a moment. But his temper flared again, and he sneered. “You’re all freaks, then. What are you gonna do about it?”

=

But before the situation could escalate further, the unmistakable sound of Vander’s voice rang out, deep and commanding as he approached. "I don’t think you’ve been listening," he said, his presence alone enough to make the man hesitate. "You’ll apologise, or you’ll leave. Your choice."

The man looked around at the children, then at Vander, realising too late that he was outmatched. His bravado faltered as he took a step back. "Freaks," he muttered under his breath, his words weak and meaningless now.

But just as he was about to leave, Y/N stepped forward, her eyes narrowing with a fierce protectiveness. Her ears were pinned back, and she let out a low hiss, like a cat cornered in a threat, her stance poised to defend her family. The man paused, momentarily startled by her reaction.

With a final glare at the children, the man staggered off, grumbling to himself, but his bravado had crumbled in the face of Vander and Y/N’s unwavering stance.

The tension in the air evaporated the moment he left. Vi, still holding Kael, looked down at him with a reassuring smile. "See? Nothing to worry about," she said softly.

Powder clung to Kael, her face beaming with pride. "You’re safe, Kael," she whispered, her voice full of admiration.

Mylo chuckled lightly. "Told you you’d be tough, little guy."

Claggor nodded silently, his gaze steady as always, but his actions spoke volumes as he kept a watchful eye on Kael. He wasn’t about to let anything happen to his little brother.

Kael, still a baby, looked up at them all with wide eyes, sensing the love and protection surrounding him. He let out a soft giggle, the sound a reminder that, even in the harshest of places, there was always room for love and family.

Vander and Y/N watched the scene with pride and gratitude, their hearts swelling at the sight of the children’s bond. Despite the chaos of Zaun, there was a rare beauty in these moments—moments when love and loyalty triumphed over hate. Kael was part of something special, something worth protecting, and Vander would do everything in his power to ensure that his son would always know that, no matter how dark the world around them became, he would never be alone.

SILCO + JINX

Years had passed since that fateful moment in the alley, where Silco had broken the chains that bound Y/N, both physically and metaphorically. In those years, the two of them had built something together—an empire forged from shadows and ambition, yet tempered with a bond that neither could fully explain. The world they had shaped around them had grown even darker, but it had become a world that they controlled, one where their power and influence rippled through the streets of Zaun and Piltover.

Silco, ever the calculating figure, had changed in small but undeniable ways. Y/N’s presence, her quiet strength and the way she could bring peace to his otherwise turbulent soul, had carved a place in his heart that he had never imagined. There was still coldness to him, still the calculating mind of a man who would sacrifice anything for power, but Y/N’s unwavering loyalty, her warmth, and the strength of her love had brought a new dimension to him. Silco no longer saw the world only through the lens of domination and revenge. Y/N had taught him that there was a kind of strength in love, and that perhaps there was more to life than just ruling with an iron fist.

The change in Silco wasn’t immediately visible, not to everyone, but Y/N saw it in the way he would hold her hand in the quiet moments after a particularly brutal business deal, or the way his gaze softened when he watched her care for their children. There was an unspoken understanding between them now, something beyond the power plays and dangerous politics that had once consumed them both. They were building a future—not just for themselves, but for the little ones who depended on them.

And then, their daughter was born.

=

She came into the world with a quiet intensity that mirrored both her parents. Her eyes were Y/N’s—bright and full of life, but with a depth that seemed to carry the weight of both their worlds. Her skin, a soft blend of Silco’s smooth, darker tone and Y/N’s lighter, ethereal touch, held the markings of her mother’s Vastaya heritage—small yet distinct patterns that hinted at her mystical bloodline. Silco, who had always been distant and controlled, couldn’t help but gaze at his daughter in awe, as if she were the most precious thing he had ever seen. The first time she cried, it was as though the sound itself cracked open something in him—something that had been sealed off for years.

They named her Sira.

The name felt right—it was simple, yet carried an air of strength and beauty that seemed to fit their daughter perfectly. It was a name that bridged both of their worlds: Silco’s world of control and power, and Y/N’s world of magic and nature. Silco looked at her and saw a future—one where his legacy would live on, not in the empire he had built, but in the strength and intelligence of his child. Y/N looked at her and saw the blending of two worlds that had once seemed irreconcilable, but now came together in the form of their daughter.

As Sira grew, so did the complexities of her existence. To Silco, she was his blood—a living, breathing piece of his legacy, a future that could be molded into his image. To Y/N, she was a connection to her own heritage, a continuation of a line that stretched far beyond the borders of Zaun and Piltover. She was their hope, their love, and their proof that, despite the darkness around them, something good could come from it.

And to Jinx? Well, at first, it was something else entirely.

Jinx had always been fiercely protective of her adoptive parents. They were her family, her everything. She had grown up surrounded by chaos, and Silco and Y/N had been the constant, the ones who had taken her in and treated her as their own. The idea of sharing them, of giving her love and attention to someone else, felt like a betrayal. So when Sira entered the picture, Jinx’s first instinct was to keep her distance, to resent the little girl for stealing the attention that she had always received. To her, Sira was a threat, an intrusion into the fragile space she had carved out in her heart for Y/N and Silco.

But Sira, even as an infant, had an innate charm. It wasn’t just her appearance—a curious mix of the fierce and the gentle—but the way she would giggle and grasp at Jinx’s bright hair or the way her tiny hands would reach out, wanting to touch, to play, to explore. Slowly but surely, the walls Jinx had put up began to crack. The more time she spent around Sira, the more she realised that the little girl wasn’t trying to take anything from her. She wasn’t a threat. In fact, she had a way of drawing Jinx in, of making her feel needed, wanted, and loved in a way that she hadn’t expected.

Sira quickly became the centre of Jinx’s attention. When she was a toddler, Jinx was rarely seen without her, proudly parading her around, holding her outstretched in her arms like a trophy to Sevika, to the gang, to anyone who would look.

"Look at her!" Jinx would say with a mischievous grin, holding Sira up in front of her. "Isn't she just perfect?"

=

At first, Sira was just a quiet baby, taking in everything around her with wide eyes, but she grew into a toddler full of curiosity and joy. Her giggles and the sparkle in her eyes were contagious, slowly softening even the hardest of hearts around her. Even Sevika, who had always been tough and unflinching, couldn’t resist a smile when Sira reached out to her, or when Jinx spun the little girl around, her laugh ringing through the air.

In moments like these, the older woman could hardly resist. The tiny hand in hers, the way Sira’s tiny voice would giggle as Jinx spun her around, the way she proudly showed off the little one as though she were her own—Jinx had finally accepted her role as the big sister, the protector, the one who would teach Sira the ways of their world.

=

Silco watched all of this with an intensity that could only come from a father who was fiercely protective of his daughter and also quietly proud of how his ragtag family had come together, in spite of the violence, the chaos, and the unspoken tension that had once ruled their lives. His dark eyes tracked Sira as she giggled, her tiny hands reaching up for Jinx, who was already spinning her around with a wide grin plastered across her face.

"Jinx," Silco called out sharply, his voice laced with concern as his eyes narrowed. "Careful with her."

Jinx paused, looking over at Silco with mock innocence, but the mischievous glint in her eyes gave away her feigned innocence. "Oh, come on! She loves it," she teased, giving Sira one more quick spin before looking back at Silco.

Silco stepped forward, his protective instincts kicking in, and he held up a hand, his voice suddenly stern. "That’s enough, Jinx." He moved closer to Sira, his eyes softening as he took her from Jinx’s arms. "She’s still too little for that much, alright?"

Jinx raised her hands in mock surrender but couldn’t hide the grin that tugged at her lips. "Alright, alright. You’re such a softie, Silco."

Silco didn’t respond at first, his gaze lingering on his daughter’s small, trusting face as she nestled into his chest, her little hands clinging to him. The sound of Sira’s laughter, light and full of joy, was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. It was a reminder that, no matter how dark the world could get, there was still something pure—something worth protecting.

But now? Now, there was something more—something worth fighting for, worth living for. And that something was standing there, in the form of their daughter, who would one day inherit both their legacies, and who would grow up to be as formidable as her parents. Silco, who had always been a man of control, found himself utterly undone by the sight of his daughter smiling up at him. Her little hands reached for him, and his heart stuttered in his chest. This was no longer just about power and survival.

"Daddy," Sira whispered, her voice small and sweet, yet full of certainty as she held her arms out to him.

Silco’s expression softened, his usual cold mask slipping for just a moment. He reached down, lifting his daughter into his arms with a tenderness that only those closest to him would ever witness. "What is it, Sira?" he asked, his voice lower than usual, almost as though he was afraid she might break if he spoke too loudly.

Sira rested her head against his shoulder, her tiny fingers tracing the dark tattoos that marked his skin. "Love you, Daddy," she murmured, her words simple yet full of meaning.

His breath caught in his throat. Silco, the man who had controlled entire factions, who had torn through his enemies without hesitation, now found himself speechless, overcome by a feeling he had never quite understood until now. In Sira’s smile, in the way she clung to him as though he was her entire world, he realised that he wasn’t just a ruler. He was a father.

Y/N, always by his side, watched with a sense of contentment. Her gaze flickered between Silco and their daughter, her heart swelling with pride and love. The journey that had brought them here, to this moment, hadn’t been easy. Their family had been forged from the harshest of circumstances. Yet somehow, in spite of it all, they had found each other and built something stronger than anything Silco had ever set out to create.

"She’s growing up so fast," Y/N said softly, her voice full of affection as she approached, her hand brushing against Silco’s. "Can’t believe how much she’s learned already. She's just like you, Silco. Strong, determined, and fearless."

Silco’s expression darkened slightly at the thought of their daughter inheriting his dangerous traits. "I’d rather she take after you," he muttered, though the hint of affection in his tone was impossible to miss.

Y/N chuckled, her eyes filled with warmth. "Oh, I’m sure she will. She already has your wit. But she also has something more—something that neither of us can control." She smiled up at him, her hand slipping into his, a silent bond that spoke volumes between them.

The two stood there, side by side, with Sira nestled between them.

"You know," Y/N continued, her voice teasing now, "I used to think we would never get this moment. That everything would be consumed by the shadows we’ve built our lives in. But Sira, she’s proof that we can have more than just the fight. She’s proof that we can still live, Silco."

Silco looked down at their daughter, the quiet strength and warmth in her tiny form overwhelming him. The empire he had built, the countless battles he had fought—none of that mattered in the face of this small, innocent life that he and Y/N had brought into the world.

In the silence that followed, a rare peace settled between them. Silco, ever the calculating strategist, found himself no longer concerned with his empire. The life he had created with Y/N and Sira, with Jinx now fully integrated into their strange family, was more than any territory or wealth could ever offer.

And as the years went on, Y/N and Silco knew that no matter what the future held, they had built something unbreakable—a family united by blood, by choice, and by love. A family that, for once, wasn’t just about survival, but about living.

"She’s going to be a force," Jinx remarked from the background, watching as Sira tugged on Silco’s sleeve, her eyes bright with mischief. "Just like her parents." The words were both a promise and a challenge.

Silco glanced back at Jinx, his lips curving in a faint smile. "She’s already a force, Jinx. But she will also be something greater than either of us could ever have imagined."

Y/N nodded, leaning into Silco as Sira reached up once more, her tiny hands brushing against her parents. "Together, we’ve built this. And together, we’ll see it grow."

Sira’s smile was the brightest thing in the room, her hand reaching for Jinx, who immediately scooped her up and spun her around once again. The laughter that followed was full of life, full of love, and Silco found himself finally able to admit, for the first time, that this—this was the future he had always wanted.

[starmatzz]

Can u write like Dom yunho with grooming kink nd CNC

Like he loves to take care of y/n who is a dumb innocent doll

As she starts realising that the rules (she can't go out of the house without yunho, no friends, no work, yunho dresses her) yunho has for her are kinda crazy and tries to escape but gets caught

A full smut

𝐓𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐬

bf!Yunho x gf!reader | smut | 4.6k

nsfw tags:

dom/sub, dollification, pet names, cnc, grooming kink, abuse, violence, controlling, handcuffs, gag, choking, threatening, vaginal sex, mxf, possessive behavior, cum, mocking, punishment, brainwashing, free use, daddy kink

author's note: phew! i tried my best hehe..hope you'll like it

You stood in the dimly lit living room, your hand resting against the cool glass of the window as you watched people your age laughing and walking together outside. Their voices carried through the air, light and carefree, while you remained on the other side of the glass—watching, not joining.

“What are you looking at, darling?”

A deep voice rumbled behind you, warm and familiar. You turned to see your boyfriend standing there, watching you with a soft, unreadable expression.

“I was wondering…” you hesitated, your voice small, uncertain. “If I could maybe… go outside sometimes.”

Your gaze dropped to the floor as soon as the words left your lips, as if saying them aloud made them too fragile, too easy to dismiss. The room was quiet for a moment, save for the faint sound of laughter filtering in from outside.

“Not today, my sweet girl, but tomorrow we can,” Yunho murmured, his voice gentle as he lifted your chin with a careful touch. 

“I’ll pick out some cute clothes for you,” he continued, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Gonna make you look all pretty when we go outside, hm?” He tilted his head slightly, watching your expression as if making sure you weren’t too disappointed.

“Well… I was thinking that maybe I could go… alone,” you said carefully, your voice barely above a whisper.

The change in Yunho was immediate. His smile faded, and his warm gaze darkened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes. The playful tilt of his head stilled, his grip on your chin tightening just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make your breath hitch.

“Alone?” he echoed, as if tasting the word on his tongue, testing it. The room felt quieter now, the laughter from outside suddenly distant, as if the world beyond the window had pulled away.

You quickly realized your mistake, shaking your head as a nervous chill ran down your spine.

“N-no…” you stuttered, your voice barely steady.

Yunho’s eyes stayed locked on yours, unreadable, his grip lingering just a second longer before he finally let go. The weight of his gaze felt heavy, pressing down on you like an invisible force.

“That’s what I thought,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small smile—one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He brushed a thumb over your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. “You don’t need to go alone, princess. I’ll take care of you, always.”

The words were meant to be comforting, but something about them sent a shiver down your spine.

When evening came, Yunho guided you to the bathroom, his touch gentle but firm as he helped you wash your hair. His fingers worked through the strands with practiced care, massaging your scalp in slow, deliberate circles. The warm water cascaded down your back, but even in its comforting heat, you couldn’t ignore the way his presence lingered—always watching, always tending to you like you were something fragile, something to be kept.

Later, in your bedroom, he sat you down in front of the vanity, the low hum of the blow dryer filling the quiet space. His fingers combed through your damp hair, smoothing out any tangles with soft strokes before carefully drying each section. He was meticulous, ensuring every strand was perfectly in place, just the way he liked.

Yunho always made sure you looked perfect for him—his perfect doll. Hair carefully styled with delicate bows or glittering clips, soft makeup dusted over your cheeks, and the cutest outfits he could find. You were his masterpiece, his sweet, delicate thing.

“All done,” he murmured, setting the blow dryer aside and tilting your chin up to meet his gaze in the mirror. A satisfied smile played on his lips as he admired his work.

“Perfect, just like always.”

Yunho gently slid the robe off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. The cool air brushed against your skin, but before you could react, he was already slipping a pair of soft pink shorts up your legs, his touch slow and deliberate.

“There we go,” he murmured, his voice soothing as he smoothed the fabric over your hips.

Next, he grabbed one of his shirts—a loose, oversized thing that still carried his scent—and carefully guided it over your head. The material hung off your frame, drowning you in its warmth, the sleeves nearly covering your hands.

His eyes softened, but there was something possessive in the way he looked at you, like he was making sure you belonged to him in every possible way.

He reached out, gently brushing your hair back into place before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get you to bed, sweetheart.”

Like always, Yunho pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead, tucking the blankets around you before pulling you close. His warmth surrounded you, his steady breathing in your ear like a lullaby. It was routine—his kiss, his touch, his presence wrapping around you like an unshakable force.

But tonight, sleep didn’t come.

Your mind was restless, turning over thoughts you usually pushed away. You stared at the ceiling, heart beating a little too fast, a little too loud.

The rules.

You weren’t allowed to go outside alone.

You couldn’t have friends.

You couldn’t work.

You couldn’t even dress yourself.

Everything—every part of your life—belonged to Yunho.

And for the first time in a long time, you wondered what it would feel like to take something back.

The night had passed slowly, and when morning finally came, you didn’t expect anything to be different.

Yunho woke you gently, brushing a strand of hair from your face with the same tenderness he always had. His touch, warm and familiar, stirred you awake from your dreams, and you blinked up at him, still wrapped in the haze of sleep.

“Good morning, my sweet little girl,” he murmured, his voice smooth and comforting.

Before you could fully gather your senses, he scooped you up, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bathroom. His movements were effortless, like it was second nature to take care of you in every way. He set you down carefully and began the usual morning routine: running the water just the right temperature, helping you wash your face, brushing your hair, guiding you through the motions with the same quiet patience as always.

Then, he dressed you again—soft, pastel clothes, always perfectly chosen to suit you. Your world, your body, your choices, were all carefully controlled by him, as if he were constructing the perfect image of you, piece by piece.

You looked in the mirror, and for a moment, it all felt so ordinary. Until your own reflection stared back at you, and a small, unfamiliar thought flickered in the back of your mind.

You sat across from Yunho at the breakfast table, the soft clink of utensils in the quiet morning air. He was holding his usual cup of coffee, his eyes thoughtful as he stared into the dark liquid, as if pondering something important.

“I was thinking…” Yunho began, his voice slow, deliberate. “That I need to protect you more.”

You paused, the air suddenly feeling heavier, though you couldn’t place why. His gaze met yours, intense and steady, and for a brief moment, you wondered what exactly he meant.

Then, with a small smile, he reached into his pocket and pulled something out—a delicate bracelet, glinting softly in the light.

“This,” Yunho continued, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface of the bracelet as he held it out to you, “allows me to watch you y/n, wherever you are.”

Your eyes widened as he placed it in your palm. The weight of the object felt strangely heavy, like it held more than just its physical presence. It was a tether, a connection you hadn’t asked for, yet there it was, pressing against your skin.

“You’ll always be safe,” he said, his voice low and reassuring, but there was something in the way he said it that made a shiver run down your spine. “Always.”

You nodded, unsure what else to say, your fingers tightening around the bracelet as you tried to make sense of the feeling growing in your chest.

“But why—” you started, confusion clouding your voice as you looked at the bracelet in your hand.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about it, angel,” Yunho interrupted, his smile soft but insistent, as if the answer was already clear and you didn’t need to ask any more questions.

His thumb gently wiped the corner of your mouth, where a small smear of yogurt had left a mark. The tender gesture was so familiar, so routine, and yet, it felt almost too intimate in that moment, like he was reminding you of how little you needed to worry about anything but him.

“You don’t need to understand everything,” he murmured, eyes fixed on you as if watching for any hint of resistance. “Just trust me, okay?”

The sudden ringing of Yunho’s phone cut through the moment, and he groaned softly, irritation flashing across his face.

“Gotta answer this,” he muttered, standing up from the table. He didn’t even glance at you as he straightened his shirt, the usual calm demeanor falling into place. “Be a good girl while I deal with this, okay? Make me proud.”

He petted your hair, fingers gently brushing through the strands, and for a second, you almost felt comforted by the gesture. But then, he was turning away, heading upstairs with his phone pressed to his ear, his footsteps echoing in the quiet house.

You sat there, the empty space around you feeling oddly suffocating, the sound of his voice drifting off into the distance. It wasn’t the first time he had left you alone, but something about it felt different this time. Something about his words lingered in the air, unspoken expectations hanging like a weight over your chest.

You were left with your thoughts again, the bracelet still resting heavy in your palm, and the quiet feeling of being… controlled.

The weight of everything—his rules, his control, the constant feeling of being watched—had built up over time, but now, it felt unbearable. The room was quiet, the house still, but your mind raced, no longer able to ignore the growing knot of unease in your stomach.

You couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t keep living like this.

That night, you spent hours staring at the ceiling, your mind working through every possible way to get out. Every escape route, every detail, every risk—thinking it through over and over, your heart pounding as you came to one conclusion: you had to leave.

It wasn’t that you didn’t love Yunho. You did. But the love he gave was suffocating, controlling, like a cage you had spent too long trying to ignore. You needed to be your own person again, to breathe without feeling trapped by the life he had built around you.

Your heart raced as you quickly stood up, glancing around the room. The silence felt almost deafening, every small sound echoing in your ears. Yunho was still upstairs, his voice barely audible through the floorboards, absorbed in his call.

You didn’t hesitate. Without another thought, you left the bracelet on the table—its presence still lingering in the air like a warning—and stepped silently past the kitchen. Your footsteps were muffled against the cool floors as you moved toward the main hall.

Each step felt like it carried the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts, the fear and the thrill mixing into one knot in your chest. You kept your movements calculated, making sure not to make a sound, but the pulse of urgency in your veins kept you moving forward.

The door was just ahead. The world outside, with all its uncertainty, seemed closer than ever. But the closer you got, the more the reality of what you were doing hit you. Leaving meant breaking free, but it also meant leaving behind the life you had known with Yunho. The consequences weren’t clear, but you couldn’t stay locked away any longer.

You reached the door, your hand on the handle. This was it.

As you slowly turned the handle, the door creaked open with a soft groan, the air on the other side feeling cooler, more open. You paused, a cold shiver running down your spine.

It was too quiet.

No distant sound of Yunho’s voice, no hint of movement from upstairs—just the stillness of the house pressing in on you. The quiet felt unnatural, unsettling.

You took a cautious step forward, then another, but the silence seemed to swallow each footfall. Something didn’t feel right.

It wasn’t the usual peace you’d grown used to—it was an eerie stillness, as if the house itself was holding its breath, waiting.

You stopped at the threshold, torn between the pull of freedom and the heavy feeling creeping in. Something told you to turn back, but the door was already half-open, the world beyond it just a step away.

“Get. Back. Now.”

The command hit you like a punch to the gut, cold and sharp, and your body froze in place.

It was Yunho. His voice was low, steady, yet it carried a weight that felt impossible to ignore. You could hear the anger behind it, the control, the edge that made every muscle in your body lock in place.

For a moment, you stood there, paralyzed by the sudden shift in the atmosphere. The door was still ajar, the outside world just within reach, but now it felt like you were trapped between two worlds.

Slowly, you turned around, meeting his gaze. Yunho was standing at the top of the stairs, eyes dark and unblinking, his expression unreadable but full of something fierce, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“Did you really think you could just walk out?” His voice was quieter now, but the danger in it made your heart race.

You swallowed, the weight of everything crashing down on you. The door behind you felt like an escape, but his presence, the tension in his gaze, made it feel like a trap.

His words sliced through the stillness of the moment, sharp and venomous. “Close the door, pretty girl.”

The command sent a chill down your spine, and without thinking, you obeyed, your hands shaking as you gently pulled the door shut. The sound of it closing felt final, like a door shutting on everything you’d hoped for.

Before you could even process what was happening, Yunho was there, moving swiftly toward you. His expression was cold, darker than you’d ever seen, and his presence seemed to fill the entire space.

“You broke a rule,” he said, his voice steady but heavy with an unmistakable threat. “You know what that means.”

Before you could react, he scooped you up with alarming force, throwing you over his shoulder as if you were weightless. Panic surged through your body, and you tried to struggle, but his grip was unyielding.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a growl as he carried you, your body pressed against him. The walls of the house seemed to close in, and with every step he took, the weight of your actions settled heavily in your chest.

Yunho couldn't believe it, couldn't believe that his perfect doll was trying to leave him. 

The words rushed out of your mouth in a desperate, pleading tone. “Please! I am sorry, I am sorry!” You tried to wriggle free, but his hold on you was firm, unrelenting.

Yunho didn’t even glance at you as he walked toward the bedroom, his expression cold, as if he’d already made up his mind.

“I thought I taught my princess well,” he said, his voice laced with disappointment. “Guess I need to be less nice next time.” He shook his head as he reached the bed, and in one swift motion, he threw you down onto the soft surface. The sudden impact left you breathless, and for a moment, you could only stare up at him, heart racing, chest tight with anxiety.

The air between you two was thick, and you could feel it—he was angry. You had crossed a line, and he wasn’t about to let it go easily. His eyes never left you as he stood over the bed, looming, as if deciding what to do next.

In that moment, you felt small, vulnerable, and trapped.

He crawled on top of you, straddling your hips as he pulled something out from under a pillow. A pair of handcuffs and a ball gag. 

“No! Please stop!” your eyes widened as you shook your head, putting your hands in front of yourself. 

His voice was dangerously calm, a stark contrast to the storm that swirled in his eyes. “Be a good little girl for me, okay?”

The question wasn’t really a question at all—it was an expectation, one you had no choice but to meet. The weight of his words pressed down on you, and for a moment, all you could do was nod, your chest tight with the tension that had built between you.

He grabbed your wrists, clipping on the silver cuffs. Then, with a focused expression, he slipped the gag into your mouth, tightening its leather straps behind your head.

You looked at him, your eyes filled with tears, your heart pounding wildly in your chest. The weight of what you had done hung over you, and you could feel the fear tightening in your stomach. You knew, deep down, that you had messed up, and there was no escaping the consequences that would come.

“Tears won't make me change my mind,” Yunho said firmly as he rolled up your skirt, a determined look in his eyes. His hand gripped on your thigh, his long fingers tracing small circles on your exposed skin as he slowly moved to position himself.

“Daddy needs to remind you what happens when you disobey, y/n” Yunho repeated, his tone low and authoritative. His hand moved from your thigh to your jaw, gripping it firmly as he pulled you close. “I wanted what's best for you, and this is what I get in return?!” he continued, his eyes locked on your face with a mix of frustration and disappointment.

He eagerly pulled down his pants, pulling your lace panties to the side. “Don't you dare make a sound,” he murmured, hovering above you.

Yunho's actions were deliberate, and he paid no mind to the lack of preparation. He knew what he wanted, and he wasn't about to let something like that stop him.

Your efforts to squirm and resist were futile as Yunho held you firmly in place, his grip strong and unyielding. 

“Gonna fuck you so good..that's what you're for. My personal fuckdoll to use whenever I feel like.”

Yunho's frustration grew as he heard your whine and felt you attempt to close your legs. His growl of impatience only got stronger, his grip on you tightening. “Don't you dare close your legs,” he growled, “spread 'em.”

You shook your head, looking at him with pleading eyes. 

A sharp smack suddenly echoed through the room as Yunho's hand came down on your cheek, a harsh and unexpected response to your plea. The sting stung, leaving a faint red mark on your skin, a sign of his frustration and dominance.

You felt tears roll down your cheeks, before sensing a subtle pressure at your opening.

“Don't make me hit you again,” Yunho warned, his voice dangerously low. His expression was a mixture of determination and frustration, and in one fluid motion, he pressed forward, sinking into your tight heat. 

A gasp escaped your lips as the burning pain struck without warning, your body jerking and arching in response. The searing heat shot through you, leaving a trail of raw agony that seemed to freeze time itself. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, caught between the shock and the unrelenting sting that pulsed through your every nerve.

“So pretty y/n, my pretty little girl..” A low, almost guttural moan escaped his lips as he spoke, a mixture of praise and wonder in his voice. He stared at you with dark eyes, taking in the image of you beneath him.

You laid there, your wrists cuffed and your once-perfect hair now tangled and disheveled. His hands slid down on your hips, the hold almost bruising. 

“Want daddy to stop, baby?” Yunho's voice was laced with mock concern as he spoke, his pout exaggerated and the look on his face a clear indication that he had no intention of stopping. His eyes were trained on your face, taking in the streaks of mascara that trickled down your cheeks.

He pulled back slowly, only to slam back into you, making your body jolt forward. 

You felt the tip of his cock bruise your cervix, the pain so diabolical you choked on a sob and dug your nails into your palms. 

“Aw did it hurt, princess?” he asked again, the repetition of the question almost mocking, “is daddy's cock too much to take? Too big for your tight, pretty little pussy?” his fingers traced a path over your body, before performing the piercing thrust again. 

Your back arched off the bed, your hands shaking from the intense sensations coursing through your body. Yunho set up the same relentless pace, his own pleasure apparent in his expression. He took in the image of you, the arch in your back and the tremors in your hands as evidence of the control he had over you. 

Yunho's head tilted back, his eyes closed as he let out a low moan. He was lost in the pleasure, his focus solely on the sensations flooding through him.

He lifted your hips, holding them in the air as he pounded into you, dangerously deep with that angle. Your soft cries and whines spilled out, though muffled by the rubber gag seated in your mouth.

“Fuck, your pussy feels so good, so tight,” he breathed out, leaning over you and looking into your red, puffy eyes. 

“You're beautiful like this, my precious y/n,” a whisper, warm against your neck, but still sending a shiver down your spine. 

You whimpered, the pain crashing over you in waves, too much to bear. “Look at me,” Yunho commanded, his voice deep and unwavering, a stark contrast to the chaos in your mind. It cut through the fog of agony, pulling your focus, demanding your attention despite the searing discomfort.

You met his gaze, locking onto his dark eyes. The intensity in them was unnerving, the look almost psychotic—dangerous, wild, like he could see straight through you, unraveling everything. It sent a chill down your spine, the heat of the pain momentarily forgotten as his eyes held you captive.

His voice was low, controlled, but there was an edge to it as he leaned in, his breath ragged. “If I take it off, do you promise you’ll be good?” he asked, sweat clinging to his hair, dripping down his forehead. His gaze moved to the ball gag in your mouth. 

You nodded immediately, and Yunho paused for a moment, his hand lifting up your head with a firm yet gentle motion. Without a word, he moved swiftly, his fingers working to unbuckle the gag with precision. 

He tossed it aside with a swift motion, and for the first time, you were able to close your mouth. The relief was instant, but it left you swallowing the excess saliva that had built up, the sensation oddly grounding after the tension of the moment. 

“What a good doll.”

Yunho's gaze was unwavering as he continued with his quick and deliberate pace. He kept his eyes on your face, watching your expressions intently, enjoying the sight of you writhing and whimpering beneath him. 

“Who do you belong to?” he growled, his voice thick with raw intensity. His movements grew jerky and uncoordinated, as if the demand was unraveling something inside of him, pushing him to the edge. 

“Y-you…” you whined, your voice trembling as you sniffled, the words barely escaping your lips. The mix of pain and desire in the air made it hard to focus, but you knew what he wanted. Every part of you was raw, vulnerable in his presence.

“Exactly,” Yunho chuckled darkly, his voice low and almost predatory. His hand moved to your throat, fingers tightening just enough to send a shiver down your spine, a mix of power and control settling in the air between you. 

“And you deserved this, right?” he asked, his voice low and filled with dark satisfaction as he tightened his fingers around your throat, the pressure a reminder of his control. 

“Yes,” you choked out, the word strained as you swallowed hard, the pressure around your throat making it difficult to breathe. 

“Yes what?” he raised his eyebrows. 

“Yes daddy,” you sobbed, gasping for air. 

“Good girl,” Yunho smiled, his voice softening for a moment as he released his grip on your throat. 

Yunho's eyes shut tightly, his pace increasing to a quick and desperate rhythm. The change in speed caused a sharper cry to escape your lips as your hands balled info fists. 

“Fuck..fuck..” Yunho groaned, biting his lip. “Open,” he ordered, his eyes still tightly closed as if lost in the moment. His voice held an undeniable command and bit of desperation. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth and stuck your tong out, anticipating his next move, your body responding before your mind could fully catch up. 

He quickly pulled out, gripping his aching cock as he aimed at your tongue. A high pitched moan escaped his lips as he shoot strings of hot cum on your tongue, painting it white. 

“Swallow,” he said simply, his gaze never leaving you, dark and unwavering. 

You immediately swallowed the salty substance, your body trembling with the effort as you stuck out your now clean tongue, the act almost instinctual in response to his command. The tension in the air still hung heavy, your submission clear in the way you followed his every move without question.

“Such a good girl,” he groaned, his voice thick with approval. His thumb gently wiped away the excess seed from your bottom lip, the soft motion a contrast to the intensity in his eyes. Each touch felt like a reward, a subtle reminder of his control and your obedience.

“You know,” he mumbled, pulling his sweatpants back up with a slow, deliberate motion. “Only I know what’s best for you,” he added, his voice low and steady, the words lingering in the space between you. 

“Understand?” he asked, his voice sharper now, a bite of command cutting through the air. “You can’t do anything yourself,” he continued, his gaze unwavering as he unlocked your handcuffs. His hands moved to gently rub your sore wrists. 

You nodded, your body still trembling as he wiped away your tears, his touch soft and reassuring. His fingers combed through your hair, the gentle gesture almost soothing amidst the chaos. 

Without a word, he scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you in his arms as he carried you to the bathroom, ready to clean you up, his presence a steadying force in the aftermath.

After you were clean again, he dressed you carefully, his movements tender as he ensured you were comfortable before gently placing you on the bed. You were sore, exhausted, every part of you aching with the weight of what had just passed. It was clear—Yunho knew exactly what was best for you. He lay down beside you, pulling you close, his warmth wrapping around you like a protective shield, offering a sense of calm after the storm.

“I love you, my precious little girl,” he mumbled against your soft hair, but there was an edge to his voice now, something darker, like a warning. His grip on you tightened, possessive and unyielding, as if the words were more of a claim than a comfort. The room felt colder, the silence thicker, and you could sense the weight of his gaze still on you even as you closed your eyes. It wasn’t reassurance—it was control, and it lingered in the air like a shadow, heavy and unspoken.

[belleil]

hiiiiiii

[insomniakisses]

Do you have anymore bbg!alpha x alpha!Ingrid x alpha!Mapi? I've been thinking about them a lot recently, and like in all reality Mapi is really bbg too, but she's just got a brattier side than r. Also, I can see bbg getting really confused/concerned feeling Mapi's dick piercing inside.

- 🐻

Surprise BBG

Short little ficcy for u 🐻 anonnie bc they give me brain rott with bbg!r

Warnings/noted: omegaverse au, alpha mapi x alpha reader x alpha ingrid, ass fucking, cock piercing.

It wasn’t unusual for Mapi and Ingrid to steal you alway from the rest of the pack and fuck you. You know they have high sex drives and you are their sweet babygirl.

A title you take pride in, so when you look across the field and see them wiggling their fingers. With their hands outstretched to you, you can’t help the giddy feeling that floods you and the neediness that begins to grow.

You make quick steps over to them, being greeted with the softest kisses and touches. Both of them lacing their hands in yours and heading for your den, that looked more like a nest than anything.

The second the door closes behind mapi you’re being pulled into Ingrid’s arms her lips on yours in an eager kiss, Mapi tugging your shorts off and groaning at the plug sitting snuggly in your ass.

She cant help the tug she gives it, relishing in your yelps and moans that make it all too easy for Ingrid to slip her tongue into your mouth. Pulling away briefly to tug your jersey off before shes attacking your neck with kisses, guiding you towards the mattress.

You end up laying on Ingrid, the two of you making out softly as mapi continued to play with your ass. Her soft tugs on the plug evolving in to pulling it almost all the way out before pushing it deep again.

Her actions making the prettiest noises fall from your mouth and into Ingrid’s. This went on for a torturous 10 minutes, your lips swollen against Ingrid’s and body beginning to get twitchy and fidgety under Mapi. You whine trying to tell her you need more without saying the words and it works.

With a kiss to your ass cheek she slides the plug fully your of you, shimming her shorts down to free her cock.

“That’s it baby girl,” she groans reaching for the bottle of lube kept in the den and dribbling it into your hole. You reaching to spread your cheeks for her like the good girl you are.

She grabs her tip lining herself up and gently easing into you. You’ve taken her so many times, you should be gaping for her at this point but you always seem to stay so tight always making her work to push into you.

You groan and slump into Ingrid as Mapi bottoms out, the Norwegian softly stroking tour hair as you lay against her chest. Musing how you were so good for them when she feels your harden against her thigh the second you felt Mapi inside you.

It’s not long after mapi begins thrusting that you realised it feels different. You don’t know if you like it just yet, face twisting and a confused whimper leaving your lips.

“W-whats that!?” You yelp attempting to get away but they have you pinned, stuck taking mapi’s eager deep thrusts.

“Surprise babygirl” Ingrid all but coos when she sees your still confused.

“It’s okay, It’s okay” Mapi mutters as she pounds into your ass, already so drunk on the tight feeling and the new sensation of fucking you with her piercing in.

“Mapi just has that piercing she was telling you about baby, wanted you to be the first one” Ingrid explains following her statement with some praise knowing you desperately need to be praised when theirs a cock abusing your little ass hole.

“Good girl, oh such a Good girl for us baby” she praises, feeling the wet patch against her thigh as you cock starts to ooze cum onto her thigh.

“Thats it,” Mapi groans “So fucking close baby girl, fuck!” She yells out as she shoots a large load into your ass.

[haechanhues]

chapter twenty five : thunder and storm clouds

*written*

word count : 1.6k

warnings : smut (MDNI). The mood changes up quite a bit. Sorry this took awhile to get through but I finished finally. We’re at the halfway point now, guys! not proofread.

He’s thunder and storm clouds, making himself comfortable in your apartment. You can’t say the same because you find yourself up against the wall with his hand on your throat, anger dripping from his eyes. 

You grimace a little, the sensitivity of old love bites burning at healing skin and a smirk twitches at the corner of his lips as he regards you and the hickies he left behind, “Deja vu, huh?” 

You scowl and you feel so pathetically inadequate when all it takes to dissolve the severity of it is the kiss he gives you. He slots his mouth over yours, a soft contrast to the hand squeezing at your throat, and when he adds tongue you’re confused as what exactly has turned your vision into stars. 

You moan into his mouth, and he exhales a sharp breath standing closer to hear it again. It sounds so much better to him when your moans are just for him to hear. Or if the men that want you are there to see who’s making you moan so much. 

He nips at your lips, almost as if he can see them swell a little to pull back from your lips, and when he slots his knee in between your legs there’s no push back. Brushing the slightest bit at the apex, he grins manically, his hair curling over his eyes. 

“You’re so messy.” 

“Fuc-” 

“Shut up, don’t talk,” He hisses, his hand slapping over your mouth, “I don’t want to hear a word from you.” 

Despite the makeshift muffler of your lips, you’re too curious not to ask, “Why?” 

He’s unimpressed, and it shows in his body language. He pauses, the dark expression taking new terror on his kissed stupid features and his hands painting pictures across your collarbone and chest, “Because the last time you did, you pissed me off.” 

You swallow and he enjoys it, the realisation in your eyes, his fingers swiping letters you can’t make sense of, every word he writes unintelligible, “I’m not going to let you just forget it, Y/N. You’re not a Princess here, I’m afraid.” 

At the last word, his hands slide down to the thick of your waist, bunching it in his grip before he spins you both around so that his back is flat against the wall and you’re leaning over him. 

You stare at him, questions running amok in your head. 

With a smack of his lips, his fingers claw in your hair, deep rooted pleasure slow as he grips at your hair, “You thinking of him, right now?” 

You shake your head. With his thumb, he forces his way in between your swollen full lips until he finds the base of your tongue, the suction of it all tempting him to have his way with you. 

“Think of him if you want, baby,” He shrugs, pulling his pants down and prying himself free, “It’s your last chance to anyways.” 

With an almost gentle brush of your lips with the pad of his thumb, you’re away with the fairies replaying the moment over and over again in your head. 

“Open,” He commands softly to which you obey him with only a moment's hesitation, and he slowly watches as his cock is swallowed by your throat. His head tips back of the feeling of your mouth, your tongue and your lips working together, sucking and sucking. 

He doesn’t even realise he’s thrusting into your mouth until you start to gag around him, tears welling in your eyes. He’s about to allow you an intake of breath, only to be falter at the feeling of you swallowing, he shakes and his grip tightens within the strands of your hair. 

“Mmm,” He growls appreciatively, clenching his palm into a fist and eyes flickering as he struggles to find a place to put his hands, letting a whine pass his lips as you suck harder, attempting to draw out the subby whines you want to hear. 

“W-wait,” His breath hitches at your pace, “I’m seriously going to come down your throat if you’re not careful.” 

But when you refuse to budge, he can’t say he finds it anything to complain about. But he has to. 

He moans again, “Don’t you want me to fuck you? If you keep going like this, I won’t be able to.” 

You pull away from his cock with a pop and it takes every bone in his body not to shove himself down your throat again. You race upwards, taking his lips for yours. Letting him taste himself on your lips. Loving the way he loses it because of you, stealing his moment of composure in order to see him like this. 

He’s a shadow of the dom he was portraying before, weak at the hands of you. And with his guard down, he doesn’t think twice before his hand cups your face. 

He kisses at his own pace, the sounds between you both heavy as you lead him into the bedroom. He sits on the bed, impatient as you straddle him and longing as you plant wet kisses on his neck. He finds himself tipping back as you climb higher up his torso, your hips at his chest, the feeling of him beneath you making your clit throb. 

You want him so fucking badly. 

“Fours?” You murmur, voice barely a whisper. You’ve got ideas and you so desperately want to use them during his favourite position to drive him nuts. 

His eyes are lost, vision blurry as he shakes his head, “No.” 

No? 

He flips you over, leg hitching over his hips as he drags himself forward. Letting you feel just how hard he is. How much he wants you. Right where you want him. 

“Oh-” 

He steals your moans with another hurried kiss, hands moving busy as he undresses himself. Shirt first. Then pants. His erection hitting his stomach. He’s been getting thicker, his body gradually getting stronger and you can’t say you don’t appreciate it. Normally, however, he’d take notice and make a comment that irritated you well into the next day. 

But he doesn’t give you any sort of normalcy. 

Instead, he cups your face with both hands, gentle as he kisses you again. Softly this time. Sweeter. He’s slow about it, taking his time. It feels addictive. How good it is. You return his kiss with his mirror image. Soft. Sweet. Addicting. 

You don’t know how long you kiss for. 

You just know that when he stops, you’re removing your own clothes slowly, watching as his eyes gaze across your body appreciatively. Normally, you’d give him your own comment, but for some reason you don’t. 

You just watch his admiration. 

Your breasts. Your skin. Everything feels perfect to him. He leans forward as you go to unbuckle your jeans, the swell of your breasts in his mouth so delicious your hands drop from their work to enjoy the moment for a second. 

He kisses down your stomach and then returns to your mouth, hoping you’d taste how good you taste. Your hands naturally jerk back to the zip of your jeans and you smile into the kiss as you knock hands with him as he pulls expertly at the buttons of your jeans. The satisfying click of freedom, all the incentive to peel your jeans and underwear off your legs. 

You can almost hear him without even hearing him say it. 

Jeans, really? 

And you would quip back, because that’s how your relationship was. But he doesn’t say anything. 

Instead, he kisses your cheek gently, his palm finding the meat of your thigh as he angles your leg around his torso. He can feel how wet you are, and with a quick dip of his fingers into your heat, he knows how desperate you are too. 

His digits dragging deliciously across your walls, you whimper at the loss of his fingers. He hushes you, “I’m almost there, baby.” 

He taps the tip of his cock against your clit, watching the way your pussy clenches at the sensation, all before he sinks into you letting out a groan of his own as he feels you squeeze him within your walls. 

“Oh f-fuck,” You mewl, nails breaking through his skin and he isn’t even moving yet. 

He kisses you again and it’s all so hazy. You two have kissed a couple times now, but it’s still rather new to kiss like this during sex. It makes your head turn with how emotional it feels when paired with the slow thrust of his hips. 

You clench tighter on his dick, enjoying the way he loses it and thrusts hurriedly into you. You wish there was an archive in your brain that let you play out his sounds at every period of the day. 

But you’ll just have to fuck him like this again and again. 

As he loses it on top of you, his head tilting and eyes squinting as he lets himself go. The muscles in body tensed all the way to the tips of his fingers. He almost cries at the feeling of your soft kisses, a contrast to the severe intensity of the pleasure he feels because of your pussy. 

He tips his head back feeling your kisses on his throat. His chin. He turns his head and you still kiss at the apples of his cheeks and the curve of his jaw. His collarbone. His chest. 

He comes, you don’t. But you don’t care. His come spilling from your pussy.  You don’t care, because the guy in front of you is a vision you can’t bring yourself to be mad at. He’s red in the face, sweat dripping from his forehead, heaving chest. 

You give him a minute, a smile growing on your face. He nestles his head into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing softly against the skin and you feel your whole body flutter. 

All before he murmurs something unintelligible and your whole body locks, frozen still. You can’t even pretend anymore. Not after that. 

AND NOW, US

your best friend's best friend offers his services as you keep complaining about your lack of… sexual gratification.

chapter twenty five: thunder and storm clouds

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[soobinieee]

snowstorm secrets

pairing: soonyoung x f!reader

word count: 2,327

genre: smut (soft s*x), fluff, praise kink, enemies to lovers

sum. a weekend getaway with friends takes an unexpected turn when a heavy snowstorm traps you and your enemy alone in a holiday cabin. however, despite the cold, you felt warm...

a/n: it's been soooo long since i wrote a fic 😭 hope yall enjoy this!

you were trudging along the hallways after your last class ended when suddenly, you heard a familiar voice calling out your name. "hey y/n!" dokyeom shouted. you turned your head and saw dokyeom waving and smiling brightly at you. just as you were about to wave back and return a smile, you saw soonyoung standing beside dokyeom. "tsk, why is that fella there..." you thought to yourself. soonyoung saw who dokyeom was waving to and immediately ran to you. "hey nerd, walking to the library? i'll walk there with you." soonyoung snickers as he teased you. "nah i don't need YOU to follow me and i am NOT going to the library. mind your own business." you rolled your eyes as you replied him. just then, dokyeom walked to where you were and asked "y/n! i'm planning a holiday getaway next week at my parents' holiday cabin. would you like to come? i'll be there with soonyoung and seungkwan, as well as minseol and aeri (your best friends). let me know soon!" he winked at you as he walked away with soonyoung.

you texted your friends after dokyeom's invitation to join his weekend getaway.

y/n: "hey guys, i heard that yall are going to dokyeom's holiday getaway."

minseol: "oh yeah! dokyeom was gonna tell you that day when he asked us but i told him to ask you after your exam. aaaaanyways, are you coming? please say yes.."

y/n: "i would love to join yall but soonyoung will be there... i don't want to quarrel with him every second 💀"

aeri: "just stick with us. we know you hate soonyoung but we will be thereee so just come pleaseee. it wouldn't be fun without you..."

minseol sent a praying emoticon, pleading you to go. you thought about it and then replied "wait yea yall are right, i'll just stick with yall and have a blast there hehe" after that, you told dokyeom that you will be going. dokyeom proceeded to add you in a group chat and sent the details of the holiday getaway.

-- saturday morning, 8am --

you woke up to the freezing weather, getting ready and preparing for the 2 nights at the cabin. ngl, you were quite excited for this short trip except for the fact that soonyoung will be there. "it would have been fantastic if he isn't going ohgod.." you thought to yourself. just then, your phone screen lights up and notifications were flooding your phone.

aeri: "hey y/n can you get to the cabin with soonyoung? dokyeom and seungkwan are going for a grocery run."

y/n: "i can always go with you and minseol"

minseol: "y/n aaa sorry aeri and i just realised we have a morning chemistry consultation over zoom with our teacher until 10am... sorry we rescheduled it twice already idt we should reschedule it again 😭 we'll treat you to lunch and dinner on monday to make it up to you! sorry......don't hate us please.."

y/n: "omg wtf with soonyoung.. alone 😭"

aeri: "shit. IM SO SORRY Y/N soonyoung happened to be the only one free 😭😭😭"

minseol: "y/n i am soo sorry but dokyeom said someone has to be there early to check if we need any extra supplies..."

y/n: "can't soonyoung just go alone"

aeri: "errr dokyeom said its better if someone else accompanies him because he's quite bad at directions 💀..."

y/n: "ohmygod. fine i'll go but keep your promise on monday's lunch and dinner."

"great, what a wonderful way to start this winter getaway." you thought to yourself. just then, soonyoung texted you asking for your address so he can pick you up. you had no choice but to send your address while you received more apologies from dokyeom and your friends on how you have to travel to the cabin alone with soonyoung. after 30 minutes of waiting, soonyoung rang your doorbell. you carried your duffel bag and put on your coat before heading out to the cold.

"hey nerd, not bringing your study materials to the cabin?" you rolled your eyes and replied "can you stop calling me a nerd? i am not one." soonyoung laughs and retorted back, "no. pass me your bag."

before you could decline him, he snatched your duffel bag from you and placed it in the trunk. you were shocked but you didn't think much about it and entered the car.

the journey to the cabin was awkward but weirdly comfortable. all you could hear was cigs after sex playing in the background from the car's radio and soonyoung casually humming to the tune at random stops. he did not make fun of you nor quarreled with you over small random things.

"oh i wish he could stay this quiet whenever i see him..." you thought to yourself as you looked out the window. it was snowing heavily outside and all you see was thick white snow blanketing over the pavements. as soonyoung drove further into the outskirts of the country, you realised how seldom you explored the countrysides. "i should definitely come here for short getaways in the future.." you thought to yourself. envisioning yourself with different getaway ideas, soonyoung broke your train of thoughts

"hey y/n. could you search up the location again. i need to make sure if i am going the right direction." you sighed and took out your phone, inputting the location into the gps. the gps started giving directions and soonyoung listened intently.

at one point, he made a wrong turn (which he did not even realise) so you shouted "DUDE you made a wrong turn."

"wait no i'm correct" he rebutted.

"nonono dude look at the gps." you told him. "huh no im correc- oh. you're right sorry nerd." his voice softer as he realised his mistake. after what seems like forever, you and soonyoung finally reached dokyeom's holiday cabin. he brought your bags in along with his into the cabin. you hugged yourself tightly as the winds howled strongly. "the snow is quite heavy" you sighed.

as you went into the cabin with soonyoung, you took off our coat and boots. soonyoung turned on the heater (which was working thank god) while you went to check for supplies. after checking and confirming with dokyeom that everything yall need is there, you sat on the couch and scrolled through your phone. just as you were about to wonder what soonyoung was up to, you realised he successfully started a fire at the fireplace. he turned back, pointed to the fireplace and proudly announced to you, "i'm kwon fire." you rolled your eyes but chuckled softly as you thought he was quite adorable.

an hour has passed and your friends were still not in sight. it was snowing so heavily outside that you could barely see anything. the way the winds made the trees move looked really scary too as you stared out of the cabin windows. you were about to ask the group chat when they were arriving but to your dismay dokyeom said that there was a snowstorm so due to safety they decided to drive to the cabin after it subsides. soonyoung saw the message and replied with a thumbs up. however, you felt nowhere close to being okay. "there's no way i'm spending the time here with this jerk...." you silently complained to yourself.

"are you hungry? i brought instant ramyeon with me. if you want some, i can cook for you. i'm cooking for myself anyway. plus they won't be here anytime soon." soonyoung asked.

"oh yea sure, thanks." you replied thinking about how soonyoung is suddenly being so nice. it felt weird but nice, maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. as you texted your friends, you could smell the ramyeon which made your stomach growl.

when soonyoung told you it was ready, you ran to the dining area and started digging into your food. to your surprise it tasted good. you never knew he was capable of cooking meals. to beat the silence, he started a conversation with you.

you looked up to reply him but he snickered and said "your mouth is dirty." "huh WHER-" before you could finish your sentence, his finger went to wipe it off for you. you sat there shocked, trying to process what he just did. he laughed then went back to eating. your face turned red and you muttered a soft "thanks".

after the simple meal, you went back to the couch. soonyoung followed behind you and suggested playing a game. "2 truths 1 lie? it will be boring if we keep scrolling through tiktok anyway." you nodded as you agreed with him. making yourselves comfortable on the floor, infront of the cozy fireplace, you started the ball rolling. as yall were playing, you and him either quarreled loudly at certain times or laughed heartily at each other's truths. if you were being honest, you quite enjoy it, which was weird because you never knew you could stand him.

"your turn" you chirped at soonyoung.

"hmm.... i love tigers, i love hamsters, i love you" "LOL dude isn't this simple, it's obviously the i love hamsters one. you literally look like one but hates anyone who calls you a hamste-... wait what??" as you replied, you realised what he just said. "wait what was your last one?" soonyoung looked at you and repeated, "my last one is i love you."

before you could process it, soonyoung leaned in and smashed his lips on you. your cheeks turned red and your heart started beating so fast but you leaned in more to kiss him. he then slid his tongue in your mouth. you whimpered and pressed your body closer to him, unconsciously grinding against him. butterflies erupted in your stomach as you kept wanting more.

"soonyoung..." you whimpered. "y/n, may i..." he asked as he traced circles on your thighs. you nodded and he immediately laid you down on the carpet. making sure that you are in a comfortable position, he started undressing you and himself. as your hands explored his body, it ignited a trail of flame.

soonyoung in awe, whispered “you are so fucking beautiful. you don't know how long i've wanted you.”

“soonyoung, please i need you so bad" you whimpered as you outlined his chiseled abs. "baby, be patient let me take in your beauty first..” soonyoung left a trail of wet kisses down your body. every touch left goosebumps on your skin. as he licked your cunt, his lust-filled eyes locked with yours. soonyoung groaned lowly, leaving shivers down your spine.

“you’re so wet...” he growled. you tugged his hair harshly as he continued licking your cunt clean. “soonie please… your cock.. please fuck me” you begged.

soonyoung immediately ripped the condom packet he took from his bag and rolled it down on his cock, groaning softly. he slowly slid himself into you. “you’re so tight, so perfect for me.”

“soonyoung aahh, feels so good” you moaned as he started moving. you pulled him closer to you. he nuzzled his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent.

“baby, you’re so good for me. i love you so much” you locked your legs on his hips, pulling him even closer where your body molded as one with his.

“fuck, soonyoung faster...” soonyoung whispered sweet nothings into your ears as he caged you between his strong arms. he smirked as all he heard were your pretty cries of his name and the sounds of clapping echoing in the room.

“soonie, i’m close…” you cried out. "y/n, you feel so fucking good. cum for me please baby." soonyoung breathes out. your body arched as you reached your climax which was followed by him afterwards.

he slumped his body on you, catching his breath after riding out both your orgasms. you peppered kisses on his shoulder as you cuddled with him. it felt so comfortable feeling each other's warmth though your bodies were coated with sweat.

“soonyoung?” you called him.

“hmm?” he replies.

“i realised that i have always liked you i just did not want to believe it… on days when you don’t tease me, i yearn for you.” you confessed, face hiding in his neck feeling shy.

“y/n, i only tease you for your attention. i don’t mean whatever i say about you. you’re literally perfect. i love you y/n.” soonyoung mumbles softly as his face heats up.

“i love you too” you replied back pulling his face to you as you pecked his lips.

soonyoung cleaned and dressed both of you up afterwards. the two of you cuddled on the couch, waiting for your friends' arrival.

-- after 30 minutes --

“WE’RE HERE! i miss you so much y/n.” minseol shouted but her jaw dropped when she saw you and soonyoung cuddling on the couch. “FINALLY! i knew yall had something for each other hehe. okay guys pay up.” aeri demanded as she and seungkwan collected money from the other two.

you started telling minseol and aeri what happened as yall prepared for dinner. dokyeom assigned roles for everyone to speed up the process.

after dinner, you and soonyoung decided to sit at the porch and stargaze.

“wow the stars are so pretty…” you looked up and muttered.

“just like you” soonyoung looked at you and whispered. you blushed upon hearing his words.

“oh by the way, though i said i didn’t mean whatever i said about you, i do think you’re abit of a nerd…” soonyoung snickered.

“kwon soonyoung. stop it right now.” you curtly replied.

“i’m sorry baby but at least you’re my cute nerd.” he cuddled you as he replied.

warming each other up in the cold was the best thing ever of this trip.

"i love you soonie" you said softly, with a smile on your face.

"i love you too, my nerd." he whispered back as his voice was filled with deep emotions.

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Sometimes that's what we need," Travis said, "And I think getting this place fixed up and turning it into a place everyone can enjoy could be a nice family activity after all the crap you've been dealing with."

Simon nodded.

"We've certainly spent time apart for way too long," Simon said, "And while she was alive, a certain nasty witch of a woman didn't help matters."

"Yeah, but the less we say about her right now, the better," Travis said, "We got other plans, like getting this place awesome again."

"Yes, you're right," Simon agreed.

Russell took a moment to take a bite of one of the protein bars he had asked for. He had only just started to realise how hungry he was, and he could only watching the game between Lucien and Rook.

Leofric gave Willow a small smile and a nod back in return. Even if the writers could give them some strange adventures and rules, this was an amusing turn of events.

Antonio didn't say anything in response to Willow joining him, but he gave her a knowing smile to show that he approved of her coming to see for herself what he had done.

He had also taken a teacup from a small table outside of the room, along with a spoon, just in case he had to shut Ratchet up again. Two taps of the spoon against the cup would drop him again.

But then the smirk turned into a grin when he heard and saw Ratchet vomiting in response to seeing the magazine. That particular experiment had worked, and he was rather pleased with himself.

"See, I said you might like the result," Antonio said to the Twins, "It's rather amazing what the human mind can do with the right ideas. Hopefully you'll think better than to question my motives next time. Feel free to do that as much as you want for a bit. He's not going anywhere."

Of course, the misdirection would also give Bill and Erica a bit more time to get the car hidden, the evidence removed, and maybe take something off of it like the license plate to make them think it had been destroyed.

Rook chuckled, "You bet it's going to get crazy with half a thousand people in the room!"

"We're going to have an inappropriate moment as well if you don't cease right now."

"Fine." Rook placed the white ball back in the exact spot it was before and sat back. "Nah, it's still too obvious. But it's good that you guys are trying to spend more time together."

She wished she could do that with her blood siblings, but the holidays would have to do for now.

"This better not be some weird game."

"You don't have enough money for that."

Willow glanced at Leofric. It was good to know somebody was able to appreciate her efforts.

She followed along, watching the Twins trudge along and possibly questioning all their life decisions leading up to that moment. The fact that they were entirely clueless on what to expect was making this all the more amusing.

When they reached the door, the brothers stepped through without a word and stood there before their beloathed former colleague. Ratchet was sitting slumped over in a chair and, much to their amazement, silent for once in his life.

"Hey, Freak."

"Wake up."

Ratchet, of course, couldn't ignore such a warm greeting and looked up. "Are you guys real?"

"Sadly-"

"-Yes."

"That's something you guys would say! You came to get me out of here! That's great—"

Ratchet froze when Tommy held the magazine in front of his face. The scantily dressed woman on the cover of course immediately caught his attention and his reaction was not what they expected.

"You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Or had too many margaritas."

Timmy's readiness saved both from having Ratchet throw up on them. Obviously, this was quite shocking to witness, but they were quick to get over it. Tommy flipped through the pages while his brother watched, then showed his pick to Ratchet.

"Look-"

"-This one is dressed like a nun."

They could get used to this.

[takendruid]

Okok so, requesting some help from StephCass shippers, and maybe also TimSteph shippers/people who know decent amount of information about TimSteph’s relationship

Can you guys, StephCass shippers, explain to me the reasons why you ship them?

I don’t know nearly enough about Steph or Cass, or their relationship to each other, to make a proper judgement of the ship.

It always kind of felt weird to me, because it just felt like Batcest even though Steph isn’t actually Bruce’s kid. And then I actually started to think about why the ship makes me uncomfortable in a batcest way, before having the realisation that I simply don’t know enough about either girl or the relationship they have with each other (nor Steph’s relationship with Tim) to justify feeling that way.

I’m relatively new to the Batman fandom, so I’m still learning a lot. And this is something I feel like I need to be educated on before I can actually make a judgement of the ship.

Because I only found out today that the reason Tim and Steph broke up was apparently because Tim is bisexual?? I already knew he’s bi, I didn’t)t know that apparently that was the reason they broke up (but don’t quote me on that, and feel free to correct me).

I have started to read the comics, but there are so many comics that I just… need that shit explained to me. Tim and Steph’s relationship kind of also made me uncomfortable because Batcest, but to a bit of a lesser degree, before I had the same realisation about TimSteph that I did with StephCass; that I know basically fuck all about their relationship to each other because I’m a newbie, and very uneducated.

The way I have always perceived Steph and Cass has just been as sisters, and Steph and Tim as exes who are still close and have a very sibling-like relationship. Before realising, obviously, that I just know fuck all.

This post, and request for an explanation comes from a place of genuine confusion and curiosity, not any hate. I do just need the StephCass ship explaining to me because I genuinely don’t know very much about either girl, or their relationship to each other.

Sorry I keep repeating myself ✌️ (under the cut isn’t anything really relevant to what I’ve talked about here, it’s just an explanation of what I have seen comics-wise)

Idk if anyone is going to ask, but when it comes to the comics, I have started actively reading some currently releasing ones like Batman & Robin: Year One, and Absolute Batman. I have also bought Absolute Superman and Absolute Wonder Woman, but haven’t gotten around to reading them yet. I’m perfectly aware that the Absolute comics are basically AUs/is an AU (idk if they carry into one another), and that B&R:Y1 is of a retelling of Dick’s origins as Robin???

I have actively read the two issues of Red Hood Gotham War, and the surrounding issues in Batman and Catwoman that take place at the same time (Bruce… what the fuck… writers, what kind of mischaract-). I wouldn’t say I have “read” either RHATO, but I have skimmed through the one with Artemis and Bizarro; from when Jason is kind of… disowned-ish by Batman as a Bat, up to about when the group of kids were introduced (because I wasn’t reading it properly, I got super confused and just stopped looking). But I have read more closely the Prince of Gotham issues when looking at it a second time for a quick moment. I have also skimmed through the early issues of both RHATO comics. Jason is my favourite character, so I have kind of tended to look at official stuff more aimed around him. That is why I know pretty much fuck all about Steph and Cass.

I briefly know their backstories, I know that Steph became Robin for like 2 weeks after Tim was fired, I know that Tim and Steph were dating. But I haven’t actually read anything official with them in besides RHGW, which includes like a panel or so of Steph as Spoiler.

And yes, I have read most of WFA (I need to catch up) but I’m perfectly aware of the context it existsin; it’s not official, it’s slice of life, it’s a webtoon, and it does not properly represent the characters… even though (some of the) said characters have been so disgracefully mischaracterised by the official comics that WFA doesn’t deserve the amount of shit it gets for doing the same thing, or so I have heard.

I’m not claiming to know my shit, I think that’s pretty obvious. I trust the people on Tumblr to not treat me like shit because the community here is lovely. But I know there are going to be the odd people that might pull me up if I don’t clarify what comics I have actually read and seen. Or maybe not pull me up? More just be curious to actually know my level of knowledge from the official sources, instead of people on the internet talking about it.

[lizziiszs]

tw; nsfw, sh

so i was thinking about how fucking weird but cool hiori's fractured girl fetish then i just started thinking right, bear with me,,

i think being overstimulation would be a massive turn on for hiori because it would be one of the very few things that feels validating to him. as a child, pushing himself physically would have earnt him praise and recognition from his team mates, coaches and most importantly, his parents. even upon realising that his parents are using him as a means to an end, hiori still feels somewhat validated. overexerting himself to near injury, the thought of working so hard for the benefit of those who are using him makes him feel sick, he hates it. yet he gets off to it because it's the only thing he's ever known, its a familiar feeling that felt good for a while. and he's afraid that it forever will.

this MIGHT be a stretch but i've written about hiori having a sexual liking for self-harm on his s/o. i think as someone who's always had to maintain his physical condition, he's never been able to take his frustration and grief out on himself in such a way. he thinks it'd be relieving and freeing but can't ever go so far. everything he has is on the shoulders of his body and it's capabilities, including every chance of leaving home so he cannot even THINK of committing such a thing.

don't get me wrong though he hates the fact that his s/o who means the entire fucking world to him has ever endured such suffering and it breaks his heart yet it doesn't stop him from feeling somewhat attracted to the idea. the idea of them feeling a similar way, how it's comforting to know someone else has also been treated so unfairly by circumstance. and he can't help but to feel so and in a sexual light and the feeling of guilt he has as a result of it gets him off even more.

the same goes for his fractured girl fetish, the guilt he experiences has him so fucking horny because it feels so good in the sense that its so immoral and straight up fucking weird. the thought of having a girl reliant on him drives him insane. he wants to, for once, be the person who isn't dependent on someone else in order to get by (his parents' validation, other team mates to pass to etc.).

although the sadist part comes from the realisation that his parents are actually dependent on HIM. their entire relationship and careers have collided for HIM to exist,, what happens as a result of that is the work of hiori and his somewhat extraordinary capabilities. sometimes, he feels really fucking good about himself. like even saying the words 'i wanna quit' or 'i don't wanna go pro' would fling his parents into such a rage or total breakdown- he has yet to try it though.

he also will not accommodate to those who cannot keep up with him on the pitch, humiliating those who cannot even play alongside him. and obviously its a huge turn on because it feels good and hold onnnn everything that feels good to him crosses over with sexuality.

(this is a massive personal confession but) as someone who has no idea what his feelings are, doesn't care and doesn't know how to distinguish them,, everything that feels remotely good crosses over into sexual pleasure. its a stupid and really fucking weird thing but i feel as, since he was very emotionally deprived as a child, its a possible idea.

i'm gonna back this up by saying that he is chronically online and a bitch gamer boy. he totally would.

don't tell me you read all that.

i now aspire to look like erika toda in spec: birth

hiori i want you

(he lets me project)

[inthedarkshadows000]

Thoughts at 3 am:

Love myself a man like suguru.

Who is so complicated that the world thinks he is the simplest. Nothing but respectful, with impeccable manners.

But you know the true depth of his complications, burried so deep within the layers.

But that's not what makes you so smitten, it's actually the fact that even with all of that, he tries.

He tries with you, to be the real him. Tries to make you show what all he really is.

It started with tiny things,

The most favorite snacks.

His least favourite flavor.

Having no filter, with you, when he dissed people's fashion. But that's OK because you would laugh just a hard.

Being a mean 5 year girl in a 6'3" tall, man's body.

Later it grew into deeper things like the taste and feeling of digesting a curse, the negativity.

For he realised you cared, enough to always be stocked with his favorites, or the right amount of attention. You didn't judge his thoughts, instead added your intrusive ones too, making his feel less psychotic and doable in comparison.

"I wanna start a cult so I can train people like monkeys in a circus."

"But baby that would take up all of your time! You know how hard that is. Why not scam the jjk elders by killing minimal curses and attaching a hefty bill."

Doesn't even realise how he let you in, layer by layer, so close to his deep rooted seed of insecurities and vulnerabilities.

Doesn't realise when you gently uprooted it and made him a free man. Someone with a healthier mind and a lighter soul.

A man who is sweet and fake to the others but bitter and real with you.

After all, he didn't want a human who made him a monster but a moster who made him feel human.

[saturncoyote]

bro i love how u stylize bergens?! they looks like doggy bear bunny creatures its awesome. i dont see many people make designs for them like how people design trolls, but yours are perfecttt

HEHEHE Thank youuuuu ! I will admit that originally i wanted my bergens to have a more lizard look to them (mainly due to my Rain World lizard designs of them) but sadly i am not immune to mammalfication.. plus i couldn't resist making Trolls rabbit-coded while bergens resemble big predators that prey on rabbits (main inspirations being big canines with a little bit of bear sprinkled in there)

It's a little bit saddening how bergens are often left behind by both the fans and Dreamworks themselves (though i do have to admit i was a little put-off from drawing them at first just from how humanoid they are compared to the trolls but then i realised furryfication is free and awesome so i got better) when they're arguably the most interesting part of Trolls 1, Chef you'll always be famous to me

[nanashi333]

Late night thoughts p2

(Discussing slight mental illness stuff ? If you’re uncomfortable with that feel free to just scroll <3)

I just realised nam gyu is kinda bpd coded.

Like getting super attached to Thanos in *minutes* - yes they do knew each other before the games but it didn’t seem like they actually stayed in touch and just met after a while again.

And he looked super conflicted when he saw Thanos going after Mina in the beginning.

The huge jealousy towards anyone that Thanos talked to besides him. (Min su - se mi etc)

Also substance abuse (just gonna throw that in here)

Then the sudden aggressive outlashes that actually come super random (when he punched min su in mingle after he called him bro)

And the immediate switch from literally adoring Thanos to mumbling to himself he hated him after he died while still sleeping in his bed and trying to hold back tears like he was *shattered*

Like he literally splits afterwards (could be only the dr*gs this is all just a theory)

Also the switches personality wise. Of course the dr*gs he took had a huge impact on it and also the fact they were literally on the verge of death so often but from going to be a cocky bastard that laughed at Everything to be genuinely scared to try and act tough to ask Thanos for drugs to go all careless to going literally crazy.

He also looked at Thanos for confirmation when he said something *a lot* shows actually he’s not 100% sure about what he wants to say and also to make sure that what he says pleases Thanos.

Also the mood swings.

(And that little scene when Thanos tells him to call se mi noona and he’s like for a second hiding his face to calm himself ??)

I don’t know it’s late I just needed to share because I made the connection in my head

Feel free to correct or add to this theory

[drownedthemall]

sweetness of her laughter

part 3 - lavender

caracalla x noble!reader x geta

a/n - i hope you enjoy this chapter <3

i'm open to writing some oneshots, so if you have any ideas, feel free to suggest them! i have like zero boundaries, so go wild lmao

3.5k words

summary - caracalla has taken an obvious liking to you, but how does geta feel about you?

they've also invited you to join them in the entertainment hall but how will they react when you try to leave?

The Emperors have just dismissed you and the General. Geta and Caracalla are left lounging in the entertainment hall. The younger brother calls for the cupbearer to refill his goblet. Caracalla breaks the boredom-filled silence with a question. "So, what do you think of her?", he peers forward, trying to gauge his brother's reaction. "Do you like her?" he continues.

Geta, without facing him, responds, "I don't know what it is you see in her, brother." This causes Caracalla to groan, frustrated by his brother’s answer. He leans back in his cushioned seat, pouting, arms crossed.

---

You're awoken by a couple of maids surrounding your bed. This startles you. You sit up. The smooth, silky covers that you had slept in slide off your shoulders and drape around your waist. You catch your breath as you realise where you are and the predicament you're in. They comfort you in a panic, buzzing around like flies, "We're so sorry, Princess, we didn't mean to startle you!"

You raise one of your hands, rubbing your eyes with your palm, "It's fine," you manage to mumble in your sleep-stricken phase.

This calms them. "I've prepared your clothing," one of them explains softly. "Which Emperor Geta picked out," she then adds. This piques your interest momentarily.

The other chimes in, "They await you in the gardens," she mentions with importance in her voice.

All of this information barely registers as you try to desperately get rid of the drowsiness. You acknowledge their chattering with a hum, hoping it will suffice. Thankfully, they catch on, and you hear their footsteps grow quieter as they leave your safe haven.

You sigh as you move from under the covers. Sliding off the bed and placing your bare feet onto the cool flooring. You cringe at the change in temperature. You raise your head to see a subtle blue stola, folded on a chair. Only noticing the colour when your eyes settle on it. You wonder if that's Geta’s favoured colour.

As you dress, you're reminded of your encounter with Caracalla last night. The thought makes you fumble with the material in your hands. You huff, trying to shoo away the memory. Annoyed at yourself for feeling so flustered. They're bloodthirsty, horrible, incompetent Emperors, you jest. You need to stop yourself from feeling this way about them.

---

You leave your chambers, all freshened up and ready for the day. You adorned yourself with your own jewellery, which didn't really fit with the Roman fashion trends. Which wasn't bad; it just made you stand out. If anything, it represents where you're from and reminds you of home. This bestows you with a little bit of comfort as you wander these foreign lands.

The two praetorians lead you to the gardens; one walks behind you, while the other is in front leading the way. They don't muster up any small talk, only fulfilling their assigned roles. This undoubtedly bores you.

The moment you're outside, you can see the sun peak past the columns, feeling the contrast between the stars' warmth and the cool morning breeze. As you enter the gardens, you can hear the fruit tree leaves rustling, noticing the colourful fruit pop out against the green.

As you wander deeper, the praetorians leave you. Amidst the blooming flowers, a table is set up. You see the two Emperors already sitting. They were sat on the same side. You can also hear some bickering between the two, but you can't make out what they're saying. The noises of a squealing monkey don't help with your attempt at eavesdropping. As you get closer, Geta moves his attention to you. Caracalla is visibly annoyed at his brother for ignoring him, but he still turns his head to see who has grabbed his brother’s focus. His annoyance instantly dissipates, eyes softening at the sight of you.

He seems mesmerised by the way the sun enlightens you. How it casts a glow over your hair and jewellery. You stand before them. "Morning, Emperors," you greet them both.

"Please sit." Geta instructs as he motions for the chair opposite them. You do as told.

The table was carved from limestone; it had been plated with a variety of food. From savouries such as cheese, eggs, and bread. To sweet, such as fresh and dried fruit like dates, apricots, and figs. There were cups placed for each of you, with a cupbearer standing away from earshot. None of the Emperors has yet filled their plates; either they had just arrived or they were waiting for you to join. There's a resounding silence between the three of you, with both of them unapologetically staring at you. You think they'd be aware of some social etiquette. You try to avoid their eyes by focusing on the monkey Caracalla is accompanied by. It sits atop his head; you hate to admit how cute the sight is.

"Do you want to hold him?" says the brother in gold. His raspy voice alluded to the fact he awoke not long ago. Before you can respond, "Here," he softly manoeuvres the monkey into your grasp.

You rush to hold out your hands. The cutely dressed primate is perched in your arms. You smile at the way he leans into your touch. You can't help but giggle at the chirping noises it creates. "What's his name?" you ask, glancing upwards at the Emperors. Geta is drinking his wine, while the other is providing you his full attention.

"Dondas," Caracalla answers solemnly. Geta then intervenes, "Have you ever seen one before?" motioning with his cup to the monkey.

You move your gaze to the younger one. "Seen what? ... A monkey?" you redundantly ask, "No, I have not," you answer, letting the monkey return to his owner. “Where I’m from, they wouldn’t last long, so I’ve only heard stories,” you explain.

Geta hums, acknowledging your answer.

"Wine?" Caracalla asks as Dondas perches up on his shoulder.

"Uhm, yes, that would be very ki-"

"Cupbearer!' he shouts, snapping his fingers for more emphasis.

Your cup is filled to the brim with wine. The brothers then soon after start adding food to their plates, and you follow suit.

All that can be heard is the sound of you three eating. Followed by the sounds of the birds residing in the gardens. The eldest brother can be seen sharing pieces of fruit with Dondas. This leaves you smiling at such a sweet gesture. You think this goes unnoticed, but you feel a pair of eyes burning into your skull. These two have such a staring problem, Gods.

"We'd like you to join us in the entertainment hall this afternoon," the one in cool tones states. Making your smile falter slightly. "Of course, I'd be honoured," you politely nod.

He turns his attention to the one in red; his demeanour seems to have become softer. His shoulders slump, letting his guard down. He begins, "Macrinus keeps boasting about his new gladiator." He sips on some wine. “ Have you heard, brother?”, he finishes.

"Yeah! He'll be bringing him today, right?" Caracalla giggles at the thought of what's to come.

---

Surprisingly, the Emperors were the first to leave the table as they had duties to attend to. Whatever they were... You didn't care to pry.

This left you with a couple of hours to spare before your presence was required in the entertainment hall. They emphasised that you were to do whatever you pleased, as long as it was within the palace grounds. This was annoyingly restricting, but you hoped this would be temporary.

You decide to spend your time roaming around the gardens. They were absolutely beautiful; you were fascinated at how the plants differed from the ones you knew of back home. You smelt and admired almost every blooming flower you came across. As you inhale the scent of lavender, you hear some chatter. This intrigues you, and you try to focus on their words.

You see their figures; they were only a few feet away. They were servants by the looks of it, responsible for the upkeep of the garden you're currently in. They had not yet noticed you as they continued gossiping away.

"Can you believe them?" one puffs his chest.

"I know, right? They never leave their chambers this early," the shorter man adds.

"The amount of abuse the other servants had to endure is unbelievable. They were so adamant about having breakfast in the gardens," he rants to the man, going on and on. Enunciating each word. The other man nods in agreement, listening to his complaints.

"So unlike them," he continues.

"I think they want to impress that new foreign lady that's here."

"You think so? I thought, sh-", your foot accidentally scuffs against the gravel; this makes them stop and snap their heads towards the location of the sound.

Their faces pale at the sight of you.

You can't help but laugh at their reaction. You try to soothe them by complimenting their work and the botany surrounding you. You can’t imagine what fear the Emperors have instilled in the servants and maids that work here.

---

You hear of a commotion forming in a part of the palace. It seems people have already started gathering in the hall. This tells you that your time of mindlessly wandering around has ended. A praetorian stands in front of you, declaring that your presence is needed in the entertainment hall. Right on time.

You're relieved to see that the room is not yet full, only a few nobles gathered in some parts of the room. You're guided to where the Emperors are lounging at. They were seated on a creme, cushioned lectus, that had a gold trim and an ornate pattern in the fabric. Caracalla was in his preferred position, slumped over with his legs spread wide open. His togas length falling in-between. You shy away at the sight. While Geta was a lot more modest with his pose. Slouched forward instead, holding the hand of a concubine.

The concubines that surround them are more resigned, keeping to themselves. Which is a stark difference from when you first met the Emperors. Getas ones are still a bit handsy, however.

"We're so glad you're here to join us, Princess", the one in silver declares, speaking for the both of them.

"I'm honoured you've invited me", you politely respond. Fiddling with the bracelets you're wearing.

"Come sit!" Caracalla announces with his arms wide open. He sits up and pats a spot to the left of him. Wanting you to sit beside him.

You smile and head over to where he's sat. As you near the lectus, Geta pulls at your wrist. Forcing you to sit in between the both of them. Caracalla shoots a glare towards his brother. His grip remains on your wrist, but after you've settled he softens and lets go. It seems Caracalla wanted to hog you all for himself. He doesn't say anything but Geta can hear the cogs turning in his head.

"Symmetry," Geta states offhandedly, ignoring his brother’s disgruntled face. You can't help but chuckle at his retort.

"What's funny.", the one in gold grimaces, eyeing you. This throws you off. This is the first time he's talked to you in such a way. "Uh, nothing, Emperor", you stammer.

Geta flat-out ignores the change in his brother’s demeanour and perks up, "Have you ever been to the arena and seen a gladiator fight?" He asks with genuine interest.

"..No, Emperor, I have not". You've had chances to attend but you never did. Having a distaste towards such unnecessary suffering.

"Really??", he muses, leaning in closer to you. "Well, you're really lucky then, you'll be getting front-row seats."

You feel nauseous at the idea. There was only so much blood you could endure. You've seen people die before but... When people are dying for entertainment? That just makes you sick to the stomach.

You smile softly, "That's so generous of you Emperors, I'm thankful for the opportunity", you flatter.

You three quiet. All that can be heard is the chatter of nobles and the sound of light music playing. They both were so close. The lectus was long enough to allow wider spaces between the three of you. However, it seemed they had no care for this.

You can smell Caracalla again, the same way you were able to when he was in your chambers. Caracalla’s mood seems to be the same. Because of this, he's keeping to himself and so is Geta. You're honestly thankful for this. Sparing you some tranquillity for a short while. You innocently ask, without much thought, "Will Acacius be attending this today?"

Geta almost instantly scowls. Noticing that you dropped his title completely. Now both of their moods have gone sour. The somewhat comfortable silence has now turned into a suffocating tension.

Geta shifts in his seat, "No, he's busy fucking Lucilla after being gone for so long.", giving you a half-assed answer.

You feel a pit in your stomach. You regret ever speaking. "Why? You miss him or something?", Caracalla jabs.

"No, no, I just thought that this would be something he would attend" you, answer genuinely believing this.

Caracalla leans forward, and his arm wraps around your waist. His other hand comes to gently move the hair from out of your eyes. You can see the blemishes and scars his skin is littered with, and how the makeup tries to conceal it. His breath ghosts your ear.

"Did you two fuck..?" he barely whispers this, intending it to be heard by others. Desiring to further embarrass you.

You turn red. Your eyes dart all over his face, shocked at such a question. He gasps, a grin appearing on his lips. "What will Lucilla think?" he actually whispers this time.

You shake your head, "I would never..!" you protest plainly, flustered at the accusation.

You can admit to yourself that the General is a good-looking man, but such unsavoury thoughts have never crossed your mind. You were too busy worrying about your fate to even feed those delusions.. or decisions.

You notice Geta scanning your face, they're both amused and smiling at your discomfort. Their moods have improved but only at your expense. You're all three pulled out of your inside joke as a man greets the Emperors. They seemed excited by his presence.

"Macrinus," Geta greets. The man that stood before you three was dressed in a dark toga. The man's appearance seems familiar to you but you can't make out where you’ve seen him before.

"Have you two bet yet?" he enquires with a sly leer.

Caracalla chuckles at his fowardness, "We have trust in your fighter, Macrinus".

"He will not disappoint, Emperors" he insists, nodding to make a point. Geta acknowledges this with a hum, scratching his chin absentmindedly, waiting for him to leave them be.

Macrinus instead, decides to point his attention to you. You were hard to avoid, not only because of your appearance but because you were sandwiched in between the Emperors of Rome.

"Who's this?" he asks, innocently. Inquiring into your background.

They both simultaneously turn to you. They introduce you to him and you make acquaintance, "Pleasure to meet you, Macrinus", you say on cue.

"Likewise, Princess. What brings you to Rome?", he smiles. This continuous questioning has annoyed the brothers. As you're about to respond, Geta intervenes, "Visiting", providing a one-word answer to stop his interrogation.

The people of Rome have no idea that the Emperors are searching for an Empress. The two of them are insistent in trying to keep this hush-hush. Attempting to avoid any disappointed nobles that can’t present their own daughters as bachelorettes. However, your presence has still led to rumours and inquiries into why you’re here. Many are more-so confused about why they had chosen you, you were not a well-known name amongst royals.

This causes Macrinus' confidence to falter. He mutters under his breath. "Well, I hope you enjoy the many pleasures of Rome, Princess," he states before disappearing from their increasing displeasure.

---

As more treasured nobles and rich folk fill the hall, Macrinus is asked to introduce his overly praised fighter.

You notice that the Emperors beside you topple forward, directing all of their attention to what's happening before them. You’re finally free from Caracalla’s grasp.

The man, that is owned by Macrinus, looks tired and vengeful. He looks like that’s what he ran off of, rage. You wonder what led him to be here. You felt pity for him, but you doubt he's the kind of man to appreciate such a sentiment. You assume he's the kind to view it as an insult. 

Caracalla interjects the fight, seemingly annoyed, "Swords!" he declares. "We want swords.", he throws a couple to the ground for them to clamour to. He returns to his seat, placing an arm around your waist, once more.

The violence has just begun and you signal to the cupbearer for a drink, you don't know how much you can endure of this while sober. You hope this gives you some solace.

You wince as the man staggers forward, pouncing on his opponent. You hear gasps amongst the crowd as each slice and pound of a fist makes contact with flesh. You barely pay attention, focusing on Caracalla’s subtle squeezes to your hips, him pulling you closer as the fight escalates. You feel his rings dig into your skin, the cool metal subduing the stress, allowing you to focus on that instead of the fight.

Squelch. The crowd gasps and turns silent. Thud. The man falls to the ground at the hands of the vengeful one. Geta jumps out of the lectus, arms raised.

"Remarkable!!" he shouts, his voice loud, resounding in the hall.

He passes past Macrinus, "Congratulations." he quickly notes.

His breathing is fast and erratic, excitement courses through him. "From where are you?" he demands from the shackled man.

The interaction between the Emperor and the winner is tuned out by your breathing. You watch as the dead man gets dragged out from behind him. Seeing the blood smear and stain the once white marbled floor. You feel nauseous at the sight, gulping down more wine than should be necessary. The deep colour only reminds you of the event that just took place.

You notice that after the bloodied man's poem, he looks at you. None of the brothers see this. Caracalla stumbles from his seat, praising Macrinus for such an amusing show. Leaving you, momentarily.

The winning man is then guided to a healer. He's appointed to play in the upcoming gladiator games. In your now cloudy mind, you wish him luck. Knowing that only death will follow him.

However this isn't the end, you’re told there's more entertainment to come. But, you feel as though this was more than enough excitement for today.

As they return to their lounge area, they sit on either side of you. Instead, you stand with your cup in hand. Caracalla instinctively grabs ahold of the end of your blue stola. You can see their faces contort. "..I don't feel well," you mumble, they await for you to continue. "I feel that I should return to my chambers..", you carefully reason, taking a step from them.

Geta takes your hand in his. You try to pull away, but he only pulls you closer. "Stay," he demands.

You stay quiet at his demand. He forces you into his hold, making you sit in his lap. His scent clouds your senses. The proximity doesn't subdue how nauseous you feel. Caracalla stares at the two of you. You're unable to read his expression, you think that the wine may be at fault for this. You feel Geta’s arms enrapture around your waist. Your arm finds itself naturally behind him, holding onto his shoulder for support.

Caracall tries convincing you in his own twisted way, "It was fun," referencing the brawl that just ended.

Geta adds, "You'll learn to enjoy it", he leans against the lectus, your body is now fully pressed up against his. His words imply that there will be more violence-filled games for you to witness.

This visit doesn't seem as temporary as you had prayed it would be.

---

The evening has come to a close and they're now trudging their way to their chambers. You had still managed to leave early, thank the gods. It wasn't as early as you would've liked but you were pleased either way. Small victories, you jest.

They both walk together through the halls. Geta is then reminded of you as they pass by your room. "I think I do", he declares, his voice echoing against the barren walls.

"What.?", the older one furrows his brows.

"Like her", he continues.

"You think you like her?", Caracalla asks, putting his brother’s sentence together.

"Yes.", he hums.

"Who?", Caracalla asks, scratching his head in an attempt to make sense of who he was talking about. Geta just stays silent, side-eyeing his brother as they reach their own chambers.

taglist - @duckyhowls @himikoquack @lover-rep-fanfic @t6gse370 <3