#just kind of playing around with gif tools

[sasseraph]

Gregar Beast Out

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 8TH ★ MONSTER FUCKING - katsuki bakugou .ᐟ

[CHAPTER EIGHT BEAUTY & THE BEAST] katsuki bakugou as the beast + monster fucking. once upon a time, a village girl thinks to herself — fuck it! being trapped inside a castle with a monstrous sexy bloody beast isn’t so bad… she might as well make it worth her while ( 10.3K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, beauty & the beast!au, enemies to lovers, bath sex, soft sex, cum play, blood play, size kink, praise kink, body worship, pussy jobs, body modifications, tummy bulges, premature orgasms, marking, biting, belle + fem!reader, beast!katsuki bakugou.

✧ fairy godmother's note - hello, time for our second kinktober fic yippieee!! i think this is my second time doing bakugou and monster fucking...he's just perfect for it!! anyways, enjoy my loves! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

the beast wasn’t all that bad. 

at least, not compared to most people back home. 

in the village, beyond the forest’s edge and hidden by evergreen foliage — the townsfolk believe you to be as beautiful as the world around you. eyes as bright as the golden sun rising over a hilly horizon. skin as soft as the flesh of fresh fruits hanging low from the trees. a voice that compliments that of early morning birds — gentle, kind. you’re the perfect vision. a perfect person. except for your one fatal flaw. 

you have your wits about you. it makes you strange. 

the people of your village think you were peculiar for having the tip of your nose poked into the spine of of a book each and every day. it’s not your fault that you enjoy the scent of their pages or that you find every story so alluring that you could read it over once or twice (and sometimes thrice). the people back home were unnerved by your intelligence — staring at you sideways if you daydreamed for a little too long (wishing for a life outside of your tiny province, one  full of adventure) or sending you concerned stares if you stumbled over your steps while reading.

it didn’t help that your papa was a whimsical inventor — his intricate machines that coughed and spluttered a little too loudly and left him covered in soot were often the talk of the town, worsening the whispers. despite the cruel opinions of others, papa’s love for you never faltered, all the while promising you that his prized tools would get you out of town, away from the people who called you odd and strange —  they thought him just as crazy as you. like father like daughter, you suppose.

then there was shindou. the most sought after bachelor in all of town and quite possibly the worst part about your old life. your life before the beast. the man was handsome, that much was true — his eyes and hair an inky black that would draw anyone in like a misty night. features, chiselled and strength obvious. shindou was pretty, eye candy without an ounce of brains. conversation with him felt like watching paint dry, he spoke so highly of himself you often wondered how his head hadn’t imploded from getting so big. for some reason, he was hellbent on making you his wife. not because you were smart, or liked to read and explore, but because to him… you were a pretty prize to be treasured.

so, when you stumbled upon the beast’s castle that night and gave up your freedom in exchange for your father’s, you hadn’t realised how lucky you were to be away from yo shindou and his crew. the village too. still, that didn’t take away from the harsh reality of your new prison. an enchanted castle, enclosing you in with the mangy beast. 

in strange ways, as strange as your mind, you found in your heart to feel sympathy for the beast, or bakugou as you’d come to know him. for many years he’d been cursed with a form cruel to the human eye — shaggy blonde fur, wild and blood red eyes and horns that were comparable to the devils. his selfish nature and a spell from hundreds of years ago had not been kind to the creature. from the sounds of things ( stories from the seemingly…alive…furniture existing within the walls of his withering home ) bakugou had failed to show concern or care in his youth, by taking a rose from a haggard old woman in exchange for a night’s worth of shelter. in return, she cursed him with the looks of a beast until he could find true love. 

his staff ( the furniture ) had told you of his crumbling hope and damaged heart. it still didn't excuse his odd behaviour — where the princely beast told rather than asked, scratched and smashed rather than communicated. he was much angrier than the other inhuman inhabitants of the enchanted castle. though…sometimes you noticed a tenderness swirling between the brown flecks within katsuki’s vermillion eyes, rich with a longing for affection that filled you with warmth whenever you caught him staring at you reading in the library he’d set up just for you or when he’d take you outside to feed the birds in the snow together. 

other times, katsuki could be somewhat…charming. since arriving, you could tell that he was doing his best to become a gentleman who toned down his anger. he fiddled with cutlery too small for his claws during meals with you just to be polite — denying his blush with a petulant pout whenever he was caught. he tried not to stare too long or at the wrong places whenever you spoke and spent time together. he wasn’t like shindou, who drooled over you like you were a piece of meat fresh from a roast. 

for a long time, you all but wished to find someone who understood you — who’d nurture your mind and the wind beneath your wings rather than see you as a prized pet bird to be kept in a cage. and over time, you had naively began to believe that katsuki, the beast, might have been the only person in this whole world to see you exactly the way you wanted to be seen. the hope that you had met your match flickered like a small candle’s flame in your heart — it reflected as a small glint of light in katsuki’s once exhausted, pessimistic eyes. you thought, day by day, that you could be happy here. with the beast. in place of your village back home.

just when you thought katsuki was changing, that maybe you could be happy here with the beast — you’re thrown back into a reality you had tried so hard not to face. katsuki is a beast, a cruel monster keeping you a prisoner in his home. you are not a friend who has free roam over his castle or free will under his rein, you’re reminded that you’re his captive in exchange for your father’s remaining life. your wake up call comes in the form of an argument, the result of stumbling across the forbidden east wing and a rose petal that wilts so pretty in the centre of an abandoned room. 

“i thought i fuckin told you never to come in here!” you could see it in his frenzied eyes, how the trust you’d built up with the beast so quickly came tumbling down. you’d crossed a line and an unspoken rule and no matter how many times the word sorry poured from between your plush lips — bakugou the beast was far beyond the point of forgiveness. he couldn’t trust you, and you couldn’t trust him. “leave!” he’d bellowed, snarled like a warning sign. 

katsuki had lashed out at you in a way you’d never seen before. like a wild animal backed into a corner. he’d shown you fangs and growled at you in a noise you know for sure humans don’t make. “get the fuck out!” he roared until you were trembling, throwing whatever he could get his clawed hands on whilst  splintering wood and shattering porcelain. 

you’d done just that, dashing down flights of stairs in terror while throwing your cape on. 

the inhabitants, his little candleholder sero and tiny clock denki along with the others, had tried to stop you. begging you not to face the cold bitter night alone on your horse but your judgement was far too clouded by your emotions — the hurt and betrayed wounds inflicted by the beast who’s trust you thought you had earned. the snowstorm outside rages with your unstable state, how could he scream at you like that? how could he say those awful things? it’s not long before you’re lost the ice cold and the daunting wolves that assume you’re a prey item like a vulnerable deer instead of a young girl with bambi eyes. 

viscous, wild, teeth and tongue snap at your horse — threatening to wound you both and draw blood. the animal that you ride, in turn, throws you to the ground in favour of its own escape. 

you can’t even blame the poor creature, only fools risk their lives to be at the mercy of a beast.

yet, your beast, your bakugou moved without thinking to save you from a bitter end. you recognise his growls before you see him — and before you know it the limp bodies of wolves that attacked you go flying over your head. their own howls and growls turn to pathetic puppy whimpers as bakugou fights them off, tooth and nail. fighting with all his might to protect you from getting your throat torn out. even if he’d frightened you, screamed at you and broken your trust — he wasn’t about to lose you to a brutish winter and a pack of hungry wolves. the blonde creature fights until his burly body is done and his claws are tainted with the blood of his enemies — wearily looking for you, checking you for wounds in such a gentle way you’re surprised out of your skin. heart racing.

you’ve never seen katsuki look at you that way, as  though he was just as terrified of you dying as you were at the thought dying yourself. its not long before his adrenaline wears off and the wounds he’d gotten from his battle finally take their toll on him.

it gives you the chance to run. to escape. to be home with your father. 

but what would be waiting for you at the other end? a marriage to a man with half a brain and six children to fill the void. people who thought you mad and crazy? you’d made a promise to stay with him, for your father’s life. there was no other choice but to lug bakugou back to his castle using all of your might. to help him. to save him. not because you wanted to, but because you had to. 

at least that’s what you’d told yourself as a way of pretending not not to care for him.

piping hot water sloshes around in the pearlescent tub, fit only for royalty. it’s taken you some time to fill it up to full volume with the help of some of the castles staff… or inanimate objects. momo the sweet little tea pot had been working overtime to boil fresh batches until the water level was high enough for the beast. you’re sure that her stout had nearly given out, but for her master, she’d pushed on. her dedication, all of their dedication (the candleholder, the little clock, the pots and pans and foot rests and dusters) make you wonder what had truly become of this place, a crumbling castle so dark and gloomy that it was left for ruin.

was the beast really worth all of this trouble for all of them to stay by his side and endure his foul demeanour?  

then again, why were you also tending to the beast? it’s not as if you enjoyed his company, yet you stay, drawing this bath to help tend to his wounds. the wounds he had gotten as a result of protecting you. 

you spare him your gaze once the bellowing creature ( now unusually quiet ) enters the room; no longer tailed by his animated inanimate servants — nothing but a roll of steam and a wall of silence separating the two of you now. though it’s hard not to look at how well he’s built beneath patches of straw blonde fur. 

katsuki’s arms are burly and toned, his chest is well sculpted as if carved from the very same stone that makes up the beautiful interior of his castle, whilst the angle of the beast’s face is strong, handsome. you wonder what he may look like completely human, if his jaw would still be sharp enough to cut through marble and diamonds. if his eyes would be narrowed and fiery, swirling with the riches of ruby gems. it takes all your willpower to tear your secretive stare away from him while he undresses in front of you, as though you’re not even there, heat growing rapidly in the middle of your face like the epicentre of an earthquake.

water sloshes violently as his hulking frame sinks into the bath, tinging it an ink stain of rosey pink from where it warmly laps over his open wounds — the sound of water hitting the smooth stone floor lets you know that you can turn around to tend to him. you keep your gaze lowered and mindful as you work, wringing a soft linen cloth in a clearer pot of the liquid mixed with rubbing alcohol. “h-hey, don’t do that,” you scold gently, lips falling into an unimpressed frown as the beast moves to lick at his cuts and scratches. bakugou pauses and squints at you menacingly while you reach for the same soggy paw he’d been tending to. you’d laugh if he weren’t so wounded and you weren’t so scared — he looked like a kitten. “i need to clean them properly.” 

an ignorant scoff from the blonde tangles with the soapy steam in the air, only earns him a roll of your eyes and a frustrated glare — his head angling itself away from you because he doesn’t want to give in and admit that your call of action would be right. you find it childish that he would ignore you but take to dabbing the first bleeder that you find with your alcohol soaked cloth, ensuring that it’s completely clean. the stinging sensation at the opening of the wound causes katsuki to roar at you in pain, baring the sharp edge of his teeth as if to threaten you with them.

you jump back, knowing that one wrong move could have you torn up by vicious claws and teeth. “just hold still!” you snap, raising your hands out of the way. “stop being such a baby and let me help you!”

“that fucking hurts, watch it.” he spits hotly, nostrils flared in annoyance. 

beginning to shake from a mix of anger and fear, you throw the bloodied cloth in your hand to the edge of the tub. the beast doesn’t look at you and your own temper flares. your face scrunches furiously and a cool snarl lays on the tip of your tongue — your own way of trying to put out the flames before they end in a disastrous blow out. 

“if you’d just kept still it wouldn’t hurt so much!”

crimson roses bloom on the surface of the water and bakugou whirls around sharply, both of your chests rising and falling at the impending explosion threatening to blow smoke into the crowded bathroom. “well, if you hadn’t have run away ‘nd straight into a shitty wolf’s den, then this wouldn’t have fucking happened!” he growls back with the air of a petulant child. 

“well you hadn’t fucking frightened me, i wouldn’t have run away!” your petty mouth surprises bakugou, you almost seem too pretty to curse — from the moment you’d first arrived at the cursed castle; your beauty had been a breath of fresh hair, hope for a brighter future on the horizon but since being cursed, any charm the beast… the prince might have had wore away over the years. leaving a husk of the man he once was, you have him stumped and spluttering for words, causing his staff behind the closed door to laugh.

an argument, though childish and silly, brews between you both like a storm coming from over a hill. neither of you dare to back down, not caring if you leave deeper and more emotional wounds on one another. katsuki doesn’t know how people work and you’re exhausted, missing home — the pair of you a ticking time bomb of disaster waiting to happen. “well… well, y’shouldn’t have been goin’ through my shit in the west wing!” bakugou reacts before he thinks, wet talons grabbing onto the crisp front of your shirt as he leers down, a gnarly growl clawing its way out of his throat to match the nasty sneer on his snout and lips. “i warned ya, shit happens when you don’t listen.” 

at the end of your tether, you forcefully push the herculean tyrannical beast back into the tub — using a surprising amount of might to fully submerge him in the hot water once more. “well you should learn to stop being such a stubborn brat and control your temper!” you’re hardly thinking rationally at this point, sick and tired of letting him think he can bully you into silence and submission… just because he’s big and has claws and sharp teeth that could rip meat from a live carcass. 

you move to shove him again but bakugou acts just as quickly — using his existing grip on you to yank you further into his bath. in a struggle and with a surprised scream that overlays his frustrated growling, you collapse against his furry chest and settle into his lap as water sloshes forcefully about the place and soaks through your dress — weighing down its fabric and slowing your movements. after a few minutes of wet wrestling; katsuki either gives up because of the pain caused by his cuts or refuses to fight you anymore — fully aware of what his size in comparison could do to you.

he slumps deeper into the tub, brooding, and an unbearable tension mounts in the air around you. the position has brought you face to face, breath mingling in the pocket of space and time between you both — above him, staggered forward, with your arms either side of his head for stability, katsuki feels that you’re close enough for him to reach out and just brush a thumb over the swell of your plush lips… gently grasp at your chin and maybe give you a kiss. he doesn’t know when he started feeling this way towards you or why he lashes out at you in place of sharing his true emotions but the beast casts his ruby framed gaze to the side, avoiding entering the possibility of making you uncomfortable.

after a moment, any anger that either or you shared fizzles away like a sparkler doused in a bucket of icy water. shame replaces the fire in your veins and you quickly distract yourself from less than proper thoughts of the beast by get back to work on the bleeders in his arms. “n-now hold still…” you tell him, swallowing thickly which undermines the authority in your voice. “it’s going to sting… so please, let me help you.” your voice falls into a tender whisper as you resume dabbing at his injuries with the rag.

bakugou snarls barks roughly while you clean him  up but soon relaxes into the water, comforted by your soft vanilla scent and the warmth of your thighs around your waist to keep yourself steady. now that he’s no longer directing his anger at you, the atmosphere dissipates into something more affectionate, hearts beating in calm sync — you sitting on his lap looking so pretty while the lukewarm water carves out the shape of your body beneath wet clothes. 

“by the way, thank you for saving my life back there.” 

“you’re welcome,” eyes closing, bakugou lets out a shuddered breath, his voice thick with gravel and bidy fidgety beneath your own. despite the cooler water surrounding you both, the temperature in the room rises like a solar flair — especially when your proximity increases so that you can dab up to the gashes stretching across his handsome fully face. when your eyes meet again, admist the work, the blonde is overcome with the urge to kiss you. he surges forward and presses your foreheads together, a large marred and hand encasing the swell of you thigh to pin you to his lap. the movement is rough, disturbing the peaceful bath water but the kiss he gives you is careful and cautious — slightly chapped lips swooping upwards to catch yours in a cute chaste kiss. 

you jump at the sudden contact, your entire body tingling with release and an excitable heat flashes through you at the brief sensation. you taste the blood in his mouth and salt on his tongue but before you can fully enjoy the moment —  katsuki is gone as quickly as he came. leaning back into the tub with a flushed face. 

it’s like your body misses him when he’s gone; despite never having him like this before. “wait… wait,” desperate whispers pour from between your subtly glossed lips and your bath water soaked hands come up to cup the fluffy edges to his face. “kiss me. kiss me again, katsuki,” 

surprised by the lack of rejection; bakugou’s talons sink further into the doughiest part of your thighs torn between obliging your request and keeping you far, far away from him. no one has ever wanted something like that… like a kiss, from him of all people. a horrid, ugly and undeserving beast. and yet, you borderline beg above him, hardly distracting from the wet glint in your eyes. you want this. want him. “are you… are you sure?” he tries to ask you, preening into your dainty fingers as they comb back his wet fur. 

“i’m sure,” you hum against him, wanting. “please. it’s what i want.” 

for a moment; it doesn’t seem like katsuki s going to budge. you sense his hesitancy, some kind of mental block that makes him hold back even as he leans in haltingly and noses over your Cupid’s bow. it’s like he’s testing his own confidence and your patience wears thin — so you open your mouth to plead, to encourage him only for the blonde beast  to delve deep into the yearning hotness of your mouth. his lips move against yours with a feverish air, unleashing hundreds of years of pent up emotion and revealing just how touch starved he must have been all this time.

from what you can tell, the beast has been alone for a long rime — shunned for his looks and the cool ice cage around his heart. you’re not sure if you care about any of that, not right now, at least. for your body wins the war over your mind and heart, all worked up by the mash of teeth and tongue that from the basis of your kisses. he gives you what you asked for, long and thick tongue pressing into every unexplored crevice of your eager mouth — starting an itch in your lower belly that you know only bakugou would be able to reach. 

having the beast like this, hungry for passion, wandering claws and sharp edged teeth nipping at your lips makes you needier and needier. you sigh dreamily into the sloppy lip locks, losing all control and pushing your hips down against katsuki. rubbing your thighs together over his wide lap is no easy feat, but you try, dying to alleviate the ache brought on by toothy kisses and the possessive sounds he makes when you try to pull away for air. he grunts gluttorally when your clothed cunt accidentally brushes against his impressive bare girth — the only thing separating your sexes being the water logged gusset of your panties, linen and pure white in colour.

you can practically feel his cock twitch beneath your legs as you straddle the beast, peaking out through his golden fur and hardening by the minute. his size should be intimidating to you, just half hard and he’s practically the length of half your arm, even if you were to give it some thought … you’re far too distracted. mind far too hazy — katsuki tearing away from your kiss to stamp a frenzied pathway up your neck and marking it with his claim. the action proves to you that his bark indeed matches his bite when he wants it too, vicious red eyes mapping their way over the unmarked parts of your skin — licking and sucking bruises just beneath the surface that’ll be obvious to the staff in the morning. tender to the touch later on as well.

he doesn’t leave you in pain for too long, lapping over the inflamed areas with his heavy wet tong — a paw reaching out of the bath to settle on the back of your head so he can further relish in the way you weakly hang over him. “so soft….so delicate,” bakugou curiously seeks out more spots along the column of your throat to see which ones make you tick and sigh for him prettily, your warm, wet pussy reacting to his quiet raspy tone and clenching around the water in the tub. with shaky hands, you weave your digits into the roots of golden honey fur in an attempt to bring his mouth back to yours. dying to taste the beast yet again.

you want more. you want to go further. perhaps it’s the adrenaline from having almost lost your life earlier on in the night or maybe you just want to find some sick way to thank the creature that saved it. but all you know, is that you want the beast — right down to your very core. you whimper in frustration and your pulsating pussy rolls smoothly over the beast’s swelling erection floating in the bath water, it’s not enough to satisfy you when you’re burning for his tender touch this bad. “please,” you coo airly, head tilting where katsuki kisses the point at which your neck meets your jaw, tongue dragging over your pulse point. “please give me more of you.” 

it’s a big ask, you know. to ask katsuki to be vulnerable with you when you’ve just been at each other’s throats. but you’ve always wanted to know him, from the moment he decided to keep you here in his castle — you’ve wanted to know who he really is behind the fangs, claws and fur. what better time than to ask him now, when you’re grinding against him in a bathtub that barely fits him and dwarfs you by contrast. “why?” bakugou murmurs softly; his fur tacking to your wet skin.

“because… i know you want me too. i-i want to give myself to you.” you huff, shivering at the tenderness in his voice which differs to the black claws that rake up and down your inner thighs, sneaking past the hem of your damp skirts to the scalloped edge of your underwear. 

your hands still track their way through his sun kissed fur, lifting his head from your chest to have him look at you. his vermillion eyes drink in every inch of your darling face, puffy lips and doe eyes that glisten under the flickering candle light in the regal bathroom. fucking hell, you were right. he wanted you. ‘course he did. 

“if that’s what you wish…” bakugou’s chest rumbles as he speaks before capturing your lips in a chaste kiss, earning warm pools of your slick through your panties, right against his hard cock. he secures his hold on you and shifts to lift you both from the tub — presumably to continue this in his chambers as you grind and grab at him.

however, you tug harshly enough on his fur to make him falter — droplets of water splattering from his silky coat to the tub when he freezes in place (half out of the tub). “w-wait!” shaking your head, you push him back down into the water. “you’re still hurt a-and shouldn’t exert yourself. stay… let me say thank you and take care of the rest,” a beat of silence echoes throughout the room, katsuki unresponsive to your offer. self doubt invades the cave of your skull over your brain, perhaps stopping him had given him time to think this through and regret. perhaps he was caught up in the moment and the beast truly did not want you. you can’t tell, you haven’t been able to read him thus far. his fold demeanour being all that you know. “u-unless i misread this and have pushed past your limits. in which case i’m extremely sorry—“

steeling yourself and putting on a polite smile, you prepare for the worst — pushing yourself from bakugou’s lap in the face of silent rejection. yet, as you turn to leave, a clawed hand darts out to grip your waste and forcefully shakes water from the bathtub. the action keeps you cemented and spread over bakugou’s naked, wide lap and his expression morphs into that of kicked puppy, as though he regrets what he’s done to you already. or not responding to you sooner. 

hesitancy occupies the electrified air, dancing in a confusing concoction with the desire that once buzzed through it. 

“it’s not that i no longer want you or want this,” the blonde admits gruffly, keeping his eyes on the waves in the water and toying with a loose thread of your sodden skirts. “i haven’t been… kind to you since the start of your stay. i don’t even know if i fuckin’ deserve to have you like this,” in spite of holding back, katsuki’s lungs burn with brightly coloured lust and affection, in shades of fiery red and sunset orange. the steam taking residence in the tiled room trapping you both in the unmistakable heat of desire. “i want you. i do. but ‘m havin’ a hard time believing’ that you want the same. i don’t deserve it. i’m hideous.” 

“that’s not true,” you tell him earnestly, cradling his furry wet face between your pruning fingers in an attempt to reassure him. even though he’s at his most vulnerable, your heart flutters against your ribcage at katsuki’s honesty — the beast finally opening up to you. if that doesn’t fan the flames of your desperation for him, then nothing else will. “you’re not to me, bakugou… and if it’s my words you don’t believe, then let me show you. let me help you understand.”

silence resumes as you let your words sink in, hoping that at least one of them has touched the beast’s heart as he has done with yours. 

and all it takes is one small nod from katsuki to know that you have — forcing your way into his mouth ( with his consent ) once more, tongue twisting with the pink of his own and uncovering the taste of bloody wolf against his teeth from earlier. the kiss is even more passionate than before, the both of you letting go of your inhibitions, swapping spit while your hands slip from the fur atop his head to run over the softer parts of his body. massaging and mapping out his strong pecs and beefy arms, appreciating every inch of the blonde beast so he never doubts your yearning for him again. 

the grinding resumes too, especially as katsuki’s affection-starved body grows used to your debauched touch and hungry kisses — head hitting the very end of the bathtub with a dull thud, sending water over its edge and to your right. you both move with more vigour, the blonde becoming more comfortable in matching your pace and thrusting upwards when you buck down. oxygen evacuates your brain, making room for the inexperienced creature below you every time the heavy, solid length of his cock drags slowly over your increasingly throbbing clit hidden behind panties drenched in both water and fresh waves of arousal. 

even with his sprouting confidence and belief that you crave him as much as he does you — the beast moves too slow for your liking, leaving it up to you to take matters into your own hands. quite literally scrambling into the depths of the water to shred off your panties keeping you away from smothering  bakugou’s monsterous cock with your silken slit. 

his length bobs upright in the water, slapping against his fluffy tummy while is bright red tip breaches the surface — shiny from evidence of his arousal. the pair of you share a hungry moan at the sight, a glossy white smearing over blonde fur, katsuki hard and heavy. he’s unlike any man you’ve ever seen, ribbed entirely along his shaft with balls that hang extremely low and full of seed. despite feeling his size against you before, your mouth falls open in slight shock at the sight, instantly watering — katsuki’s dick could be mistaken for a third leg, chubby and a mushroomed at the tip. you’ve never had a partner so big before.

a tapered whimper, so quiet that you almost miss it, bubbles on the seams of bakugou’s lips as he bites them with his pointed animalistic teeth. “keep starin’ at me like that ‘n i don’t know what i’ll do.” he warns huskily, throat bobbing beneath the sandy fur at his neck. “s’been a while… and i know it’s not like the humans you’re used to. it’s…big. so i understand if you don’t want to…”

“it’s perfect.” you purr lowly and cut him off, the sound rivalling that of the beast’s, leaning forward to spit on his sore red tip as it oozes precum and lewdly rubbing your palm over his cockhead and shaft to spread the lubricating mix all over him, letting it mingle in the water. “you’re perfect. i can’t wait to take you, make it fit. i want to be the one about to make you feel good after so long.” 

a strangled howl forms deep within his chest at your admission — his extremely large body palpitating wholly as you take the entire weight of his cock into your dwarfed hand, barely able to fit all of your fingers around him. you feel for the prominent vein in the underside of his shaft, pressing down on it while your remaining fingertips toy with the sensitive ridges and bumps that decorate him. 

when you look up at bakugou the beast with beautiful, big eyes he feels like he could die here. happily. in beast form and all. he could never be human again or break his curse and he’d be content to have you looking up at him like this, with his huge  cock in your tiny hand, be the last thing the blonde ever sees. “fuck,” he snarls tip bleeding hot arousal over your knuckles and into the tub, knees shifting apart to give you more room — sending water flying out of the bath. 

you inch forward again, breathing warmly against katsuki’s damp lips as he begins to weaken beneath you with every pump of his dick. “i can’t wait to see how you feel, i’m going to get myself ready for you. is that okay?” you check with him, even though his mane is tousled about with how fast he’s nodding. whispering faint pleads against your wet Cupid’s bow. 

“please… just hurry it up,” katsuki lets his temper flare briefly, almost as hot as the water that soaks his fur and your clothes. lukewarm at best. he rambles for the most part, brainlessly even. lackadaisically rutting  into the pathetic small circle your little fist barely makes around him — the force of his hips causing water to splash up against your dress. “‘m ready for it…” he adds begrudgingly. 

the sight of the beast’s submissiveness and desperation brings a smile to your cherry bitten lips, clit throbbing and cunt quivering around the water you sit in. “i’ve got you, don’t worry…” assuring him gently, your mouth hangs open and follows the sweet howl uttered from your partner’s lips — its volume just above the explicit, wettish sounds of your hand jerking off the entirety of his shaft. even though you don’t want to, you only slightly let up on the pace of your palm smoothly gliding in and out of the water ( around katsuki ) to pull him towards your bare pussy.

his hips canter and chase your heavenly grip, fat droplets of his precum flying about the place and into the tub from just how much the beast is leaking. bakugou feels his mind sink into a hazy fog when you lift your hips to hover over his girth, the fuzziness shrouding his brain showing on his muzzle and handsome face. bliss lines his vermillion framed eyes, those same eyes that flutter shut in anticipation. waiting for you to put your honeyed pussy on him and make him yours.

katsuki can’t contain the feverish pants that escape him when you guide his clawed paws to hold your hips and help lower you onto him. the closer your heated core gets to his seedy cock, the harder it becomes to breathe and the humid he exhales starts to mingle with your own. 

both of you hiss pitifully in unison at the first tap of the blonde’s monsterous cock against your sticky, needy mound. your aching clit instantly catches on the ridges of his dick deliciously, causing you to crumple against the beast’s marshy furry chest — gripping onto locks of gold around his neck to ground yourself, bring yourself back down from an immense and otherworldly jolt of pleasure that bounces from the tail end of your spine to the top of your skull. you feel as though your brain has been knocked about, bakugou languidly thrusting upwards to drag his length through sluice, puffy folds and grind against your clit — clearly seeking the heat of your pulsating sex. 

“s-so good, katsuki,” a sheen of sweat condescends against your skin, glazing you in a pearlescent shine while you throw your hips back and forth over the blonde’s fat dick. he’s in no better state than you, talons sinking into the peachy flesh to cope with the way you move feverishly above him. sweat beads at his hairline, murderous ruby eyes growing heavy and kisses and god, you think he looks so perfect like this. when his remorseless resolve comes crashing down and he takes everything that you have to offer. “think you’re so beautiful,” 

rose pink tinges hotly at his cheeks while he shakes his head — denying your praise. ropes of saliva forming connections between his sharp white teeth and his strawberry tongue while he tosses his head back at your praise, letting out a stream of enchanting moans. katsuki’s adam’s apple bobs between small whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘please’ punctuated by the slap of water hitting the floor from your sinfully synced bodies. he doesn’t let up on buck of his hips to meet your sodden sex, your puffy folds spread perfectly either side of the meat or his shaft — allowing your arousal pearling pleasure bud to graze his cockhead rhythmically. causing both of you to quiver in ecstasy.

“‘m not,” the beast denies, drawing his hips far back until they meet the bottom of the tub before jutting forward — his entire length slipping through your soaked pussy lips until his breeders balls tap at your hole. “g-god… think you’re gonna make me cum…g-gonna make me…fuuuck!” he chants, eyes snapping open to capture your gaze.

the tail end of his words form a soft symphony of whines and animalistic chirps, like music to your ears. “i want you to cum, you’d be so pretty cumming against me, katsuki…” you continue to taunt him, following his movement by cheekily driving your fluttering entrance down against his bulbous cockhead — trembling at its thick diameter. you still have no idea how it’ll fit. “give it to me.”

you take his massive paw in your tiny hand, hooking his claw onto the bosom of your dress with trusting eyes. the sound of wet material ripping echoes about the bathroom, the blond having torn right through the damp front of what you wear. you slump forward next, pebbled nipples brushing pleasurably over katauki’s fluffy toned chest. his fur is slick and clings to the water droplets on your glistening skin — especially with your bodies submerged under the lukewarm water. 

“you… y’don’t know what you’re askin’ for,” bakugou slurs deeply, grinding the tip of his dick against the ring of muscle at your entrance as you glaze his painfully with sweet the honey nectar dripping from your cunt. he’s so close he can practically taste it, all he needs is one little push. so you take his hand, leading him into a mistified fog of love and lust — reaching up, you drag a tender finger over the dark black horns that spiral from between roots of sun kissed blonde hair and fur, revelling in the way katsuki’s breath hitches. “d-don’t… they’re fuckin’ sensitive…”

all you do is hum in response, practically pressing your chest to the beast’s face as you learn further up and teasingly drag the length of your tongue over one scaled black appendage, taking the second horn between your wet, pruney fingers to jerk it like you would his cock. “they feel good when i touch them?” there’s a certain husk to your voice that puts the man on edge beneath you, colourful language littering his tongue, spurts of precum clinging to the insides of your folds. “what if i…?”

your hot, warm mouth encapsulates the very tip of his horn and your cheeks hollow out so that you have the room to suck him down your throat — mindful of its jagged surface. you feel so full and in all the best ways, the thickness of his horn causing a swell in your throat. his bright red tip, feverishly leaking precum, just barely bullying its way past the tight ring of your entrance, tapping against your sticky pussy even under water. you’re drooling from every hole, every place that you could possibly be fucked in and it’s all for him — willingly sucking him down… its for him.

“fuckin’ hell… sweetness, please. when ya touch me like that ‘m gonna—“ that's what makes you swallow around the beast as his sensitive horn presses against your uvula, spit pouring out against it. 

even as his eyes disappear into his dark skull at the feeling , katsuki drools over you as though you’re a prime cut of meat — a claw drifting up from the fat at your waist to the now naked and pliant mounds of flesh at your chest. he squeezes your breasts tightly in his monstrous palm, each point of each claw digging into your skin until electric dopamine crackles quickly across your synapses — dizzying your brain and ability to function. his grip is so sinfully tight that it’s enough to draw blood, crimson rose petals inking their way between the valley of your breasts and blowing on the surface of the water filling in the tub.  

you don’t stop kissing and sucking on his horn — tasting the ash between each scale, like firewood. he doesn’t stop rutting against your sex, sloshing sounds fluttering through the air. it’s your moan around him that sets the beast off, choked and spluttered; the sweet symphony guiding bakugou through the rough terrains of his high like he’d done so for you outside. static erupts over his brain and numbs all four of his limbs while a white as bright as the evening’s snowfall flashes behind hazy red eyes. his blonde head of hair drops weightily to your damp shoulder; hips stumbling against your cunt, as thick ropes of his early release hit your clit underwater.

with a prideful your lips pull off of his horn, listening happily to his washy, uneven mewls. even though he hadn’t been ready to cum just yet, it was by no means a small orgasm. katsuki’s load is heavy, still coming in hot, viscous waves as you suddenly slip down on his throbbing shaft — using the mix of water and orgasm as lube to help you with his size. “t-takin’ me all at once… still cummin’,” bakugou gasps like a fish out of water, pupils blown wide as the black in his eye eclipses the red. “you gotta be careful… ‘m big, sweetness. don’t wanna hurt you.” 

katsuki bakugou, the beast, is perfect. you know that now, whether it’s because your brain is fucked up with sex crazed hormones or because you genuinely do care for him deep down. either way, you think that he’s perfect, and you want him every way. his cock stretching your tight heat has you delirious, you think the burn of his size might even kill you as it pulses in your lower belly.  

“w-what makes you think you might hurt me?” you drawl and your sopping walls accept every inch of him with ease, reminding him of how lucky he is to have you. to be able to fuck you. it’s almost as if you’re made specifically for the beast — wandering into his castle with intention. not just for your father. 

there’ll never be another beauty like you and he’ll never be able to let you go after this. 

you ooze viscous nectar against katsuki, blossoming for him like a flower made for the coldest of winters while he presses into you — deeper and deeper. until you’re pelvis to pelvis in the warm tub. “‘cause...you’re so small compared to me, sweetness,” he explains over the lump in his throat — a growl escaping from behind his larger, menacing set of teeth. “such a fuckin’ dainty…pretty… little thing. fuck… if we do this i ain’t sure i’ll be able to hold back.”

lowering your hips and clenching hard, you lock the blonde into your heat selfishly, even though your legs are about to give out and you feel faint from taking the entirety of him in one go. “but that shouldn’t stop you from having your way with me, beast.” you murmur. “i don’t want you to hold back. you’re perfect and i want you just the way you are,” taking his paw in your palm, you draw it back to the claw marks struck lovingly against your chest — letting him feel the strong beat of your heart between your breasts. “my heart is racing, bakugou,” you croon and nuzzle your nose against his cutely, earning a light purr from the man beneath you. “i think… i think you make me feel this way.” your heart has never fluttered for someone like this before, not for yo shindou or any other man back home. you feel so small and safe with katsuki, even if he seems scary on the outside — you know that he’s tender and always means well.

that’s all the permission katsuki needs, really. hearing you tell him that you want him, even if it’s in his most carnal and instinctive way, is the same as hearing the magic word to him. with revitalised motivation, the blonde beast plants his feet against the smooth base of the tub and thrusts all the way into you with one fluid motion — hips flush against your fleshy ass and bottoming out in your weeping pussy. each movement is easily guided by his previous release, forming a foamy white ring at your entrance. he wraps a hand around the back of your head, claws massaging your scalp to soothe the cloying cries caused by the new angle as he keeps you pinned to his body.

bakugou relishes in the warmth of your syrupy walls clenching tightly around his bricked up length but manages to find strength in pulling from your selfish slicked up hole to set a slow, calculated pace to the way he bucks into you — dragging his monstrous girth along your ribbed walls and pleasure points. the utter power behind his hips quickly have water splattering over the edge of the bathtub and tear through babyish yelps escaping from between your cherry-bitten lips. the beast takes control of your body like a king or a prince with a strict rein over land. ruling over every thought once rattling around in your mind.

your shaking hands take hold of sun-kissed tooth’s of his fur, ones that muffle your little laments and whines as katsuki fucks you down on his shaft — taking you to the high heavens and back. cloud nine just within your reach. oxygen eludes you, leaving your lungs vacant and struggling to keep up with everything the beast gives you — carving a pathway for his big seedy cock against your insides with every feverish buck of his hips into yours. “feels…feels s’good!” you shriek desperately, trying your best match his rhythm. “so deep, makin’ me feel so full!”

“already? haven’t even given you a proper load yet,” bakugou chuckles between condescending moans, drunk on the way it feels when he stretches you out around him the deeper he goes, poor pussy changing to accommodate his breath-taking size and whatever love he has to give you. as a result, the beast fills you until you’re practically a glass overflowing with love and pleasure. “could plug you full with dick ‘n cum, ‘n it still wouldn’t be enough for you. would it?” 

using a free hand, the blonde drags his claws grip down to your fleshy ass and spreads your cheeks apart, growling as the webs of slick tying them together break over his fingers — dampening them just as much as the water from the bath. his grip allows him to bully himself further into your molten core, moulding you perfectly up and down on his cock. “love how you feel around me, sweetness,” the praise smooths over your brain, wiping it of any feedback you have for the blonde and all you can do is gargle passionately in ecstasy. “don’t think i deserve to… fuck a pretty girl this tight…”

you squeeze around katsuki where your words fail you, juices dripping down his length into the bath nastily until it bathes his breeders balls as they clap against the curve of your ass repeatedly — heavy and full of a second load of cum just for you. even though he pushes and smears the first against pleasure spots dotted along your velvety walls. shaking your head, face hidden in water-logged fur, “y-you’re the only one who deserves to fuck me, katsuki, have this tight pussy— oh!” the tail end of your words come out as choked, lost to the echoey bathroom and splashing water as bakugou sinks his fangs into your bare shoulder.

he bites you, not only to mark you and taste the sheen of saltine sweat on your skin, but to pacify himself — help him cope with each flutter of your wet pussy and angelic simper. a delectable pain blossoms underneath the surface of your skin, and you weave your nimble fingers into bakugou’s fur to keep him in place, letting him bite you hard enough to draw blood. wounding you just as much as he had been wounded. 

ruining the bath with more than just sweat, juices and cum.

bakugou fucks you like he loves you, like he’s been waiting thousands of years to pour locked-away affections from his soul into yours. limbs slip and slide against the walls of the tub, filling the homing air and layering over the vulnerability lying in it. you’re sure you’d see this hidden truth in his vermillion eyes if you had the strength to look up from his chest too.

“keep talkin’ to me like that, swear i’ll ruin you ‘n this pussy for everyone. myself… the next man that has you,” bakugou growls as feral as the animal he’s been turned into. even with his body pressed hotly against yours, joined at your sticky sexes while you’re chest to chest ( sensitive nipples brushing each other’s), he still can’t see how much of you he owns. neediness and yearning spark between your compressed bodies as they dance together underwater, skin slapping on skin and water spilling everywhere. “she’ll never be able t’forget the way i make her fuckin’ feel…”

“oh god, please. please—“ you feel like you’re in the verge of tears, overwhelmed by everything that is the beast. that makes up katsuki bakugou. his size and thickness drive you insane, how he feels thrusting into your gummy walls and meeting the hilt sends you up a wall. not to mention the scent of his body, his fur, permeating your skin possessively and sinking into your pores. “don’t want anyone else after you, wanna have you inside of me forever. only you inside. just so pretty when you’re fucking me, katsuki…” you admit through earnest and shaky hiccups. 

despite rambling, your words feeling tacky on your tongue like someone’s stuffed your mouth with cotton, katsuki seems to finally get the hint. he makes you feel this way, he makes you see stars, he’s the one that you want — fully and undeniably. without a care in the world for how he looks. if that were the case, you wouldn’t be letting him rapidly rock his hips into you with lewd squelching sounds emanating from your ravaged pussy. you wouldn’t bounce up and down on his aching dick to chase him with a spasming, slippery hole when he just about pulled out of you, losing control of the movements of his hips — spreading the arousal beading on his cockhead against your insides.

“f-fuck… you’re gonna be the death of me…”  

the edge of the beast’s words develop a sharp shakiness to them, a sheen of sweat painted over your bodies from both the humidity in the bathroom and the exertion of your activities. you were living for the burn his fat girth created as it pushed its way past your puckered hole every time he jutted upwards or you weakly fucked down — bakugou knew you wanted more and he’d give it to you too. 

“y-you’re prettier. especially when i’m the one fuckin’ you,” bakugou whimpers seraphically, using his strong hand on your wet ass to lift and drop you in his milky white dick — not caring about the water that got everywhere, only focusing on matching you to his length jackhammering in and out of your pathetically creamy pussy. you spasm, keeping him a prisoner in your cunt while he spews copious amounts of precum inside of you and into the tub — coaxing a fresh wave of blistering hot essence out of you. 

all of a sudden, the beast uses his brute strength to  shift your positions with his cock still nestled within you and your back splashes against the remaining water in the tub — dampening your back and the crown of your hair. katsuki doesn’t let you sink too far back into the water, instead, holding you up by the far at waist, large paw curling around it entirely. “see that? my cock bulging in your tummy. s’all me, sweetness. will only ever be me. you’re mine, all fuckin’ mine for all of time.” he whispers above you lecherously, hazy vermillion gaze floating like driftwood down to your soft stomach. your eyes follow his, breath caught in your throat at the sight,  the shape of him outlined there as he pounds into your g-spot lovingly, dotting your eyes with constellations. “hold onto me, sweetness. gonna make us cum.” 

quickly, you wrap your ankles around the smallest part of the beast’s waist — cunt unlocking and locking around the curve of his dick at random with the new position. choking the precum out of him, opaque fat drops pearling at the slit every time katsuki’s hips lunge forward powerfully. “i love you,” tears begin to brew in your glassy eyes and gather in your lashes like dew drops on a leaf, streaming down the hot apples of your cheeks as you become overwhelmed with emotion. you’re not sure if you cry because of dopamine, lust and happy hormones jolting from your brain to the tips of your toes or because of the way katsuki slots his body against yours — drowns you in everything that is him. 

either way it doesn’t matter, because you don’t know what you’d do if the beast stopped loving you like this. making love to you with every push of his cockhead against sluice walls, every swipe of his tongue over your swollen lips and every scratch of his claws against your supple body. 

“i love you,” you repeat, the taste of your orgasm rushing over the horizon as you claw desperately for something, anything to ground you. you wriggle and write underneath him, sending more water out of the tub, stomach twisted in delightful knots and only manage to steady yourself by grasping bakugou’s thick black horns above you. “i want to be yours forever…b-because you’re perfect ‘n feel so good. ‘n no one will care for me like you do…”

“‘hmyfuckingods…shit!” bakugou swoops down to lick curse words into your impassioned, temperate mouth, weakened by your warm touch around his sensitive horns and your own words mewled out like a promise to the cursed monster of a prince. watching the beast, your beast, break above you hardly soothes your wrecked insides — honeyed juices drooling down your thighs, dripping into the tub in a viscous lava flow each time he pumps into you. parting between kisses and through your wet lashes, you witness the way sweat drips from his hairline and fur, the way his dark brows are furrowed in concentration ( focused on bringing you to the top of your peak ) and how his arms flex in order to drag your pulsating pussy up to meet his thick cock — skin smacking and breath mingling in the musky air. 

his golden fur glistens under warm candle light and if you looked close enough, you could spot the twinge of pink at katsuki’s cheeks from his exertion. he’s beautiful on top of you, fucking you, that you’d be happy drown here in this bathtub if it meant he was the last thing you ever got to see. “tell me how much you want me,” bakugou snarls against your swollen lips, spouting the covetously loaded words against your strawberry tongue before he slopping kisses you again — teeth clashing with yours, incisors nipping your bottom lip until it’s bloody while he maps out the taste of sex in your mouth. 

as if to coach an answer out of you,  his knuckle slips between your connected bodies to toy with your throbbing clit — being mindful of his claws, not wanting to cause you any pain when you’re so close to reaching your high. it’s hard for you to speak when his cock slips into you like magic and attacks your throat with a bounty of love bites in purply-blues. his intensity washes over you in waves, scorching you and soothing you all at once. over all the harsh moments once shared between you.

instinctively you squeeze at his horns and search for words, but bakugou answers for you — hardly peeling away from your, damp hot skin while he pulses to life inside of you. “cause i want you. want you so fuckin’ bad that it burns me. hurts me.” snarls and pushes his creamy cock as deep and as far as it can go, practically splitting you open, spreading your thighs wide ( as wide as the tub will allow ) to make room for his wide frame and hips between them. you can just tell how much he wants you, how it tears him apart pieces you back together, by the way he grinds against you — fluffy pelvis brushing against your puffy clit. with the hope to push you over the edge. “gods… you make me wanna lose it…” 

the beast picks up a pace and a thick strand of your mixed arousals swings between your bodies where the blonde beast plugs your spasming hole, the milky liquid finding purchase on your inner thighs and the veins that spiral down his shaft. the both of you start to lose it together, water slipping and sliding everywhere as bakugou moves to sit on his haunches, all-encompassing grip on your waist lifting you from the shallow depth of the tub to keep you on his cock — pussy squelching over his swollen and red shaft. 

in response, your back bows away from the bottom of the tub until you’re chest to chest once more and your lips part with “i want you, i want you, i want you! n-no one else!” you chant loudly, the words nearly lost over the sounds of the beast passionately slamming into you over and o er again. “k-katsuki! think i’m gonna… so close—! cumming—!” 

using two knuckles, bakugou pinches your clit between them and sends you hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. that’s all it takes, him purring to you as white flashes behind your glassy eyes. you squirt hard against him, into the tub, clear liquid spurting from your ravaged sex and covering the beast’s fur in a messy layer of your release. there’s so much of it, that it nearly forces his cock from your quivering hole — but he can’t bare to be away from you, to waste his own orgasm. for the damn in the beast’s lower belly breaks as well; an earth shattering high comes crashing down on him and forces his bulking furry frame to collapse over yours — hips stuttering and water rushing out of the bath.

katsuki tucks his burning face into your neck one final time. his nostrils flare and chest heaves as he cums with an frightening roar, arms encircling your head to keep you still and pinned beneath him while katsuki unapologetically ruts into your ruined heat; dragging his bulbous cockhead deliciously against your silken walls as his seed pours into you in a large, unapologetic amount. potent and thick white floods your womb, cloying against the ribbed parts of your pussy.  so much so, that you feel your tummy bulge even as some of it runs down your slit and between your ass cheeks — into the tub below.

neither of you move, completely weak and shaky in one another’s embrace — limbs heavy from water that clings to bakugou’s fur and your skin. if you could speak and your ears were no longer ringing from your world ending high, you’d tell the beast that you love him. that you care about him. that you never want to leave him.

if his state was any better than yours, you’re sure he’d do the same.

but for now, you grasp onto his wet back and rake your hands through the masses of wet golden fur to tug bakugou, the cursed beast, closer to you. never letting him go. pulling him in to press a lasting kiss into his damp, muzzle. hoping your subtle affections will make do instead.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[tac-the-unseen]

Slapping Slasher's Ass and Running away!

Micheal Myers:

•He likes to believe he has complete control over his surroundings 

•He likes to imagine himself as a Jaguar; opportunistic, stealthy, adaptable, and an Apex predator

•And then there's you, here to snap them back to reality 

•If he's a Jaguar, you're an annoying bird that follows him 

•All this made clear when He's just standing in the kitchen and feels a hard smack on his Ass

•He whips his head around to see you, running at full speed and giggling 

•For a moment he's completely stunned 

•But only for a moment 

•He’s quick on your heels 

•In less than 10 seconds he's holding you in the air by your shirt, like holding a cat by its scruff

•You can immediately tell through the mask how pissed he is

•But for a few seconds he just leaves you suspended in the air, and soon enough he makes his decision. 

•He walks to your shared bedroom and drops you onto the bed

•You think you're in for some sexy-funtime

•That quickly washes away when Michael turns around and walk out the door 

•When you get up to follow you find that he's locks you in by putting a chair under the handle 

•This man is so sick of your shit, but loves you too much to actually harm you

•He just put you in time out while he waits for the stinging on his ass to go away

Billy loomis & Stu macher:

•When the school day ends you're walking towards the front door, you spot both of your boyfriends walking towards the door too

•With the coast clear of teachers and most other students you knew what you had to do

•You rub your hands together diabolically and begins to run towards them

•when you're finally in the perfect position, you wind your hands back and as hard as you can, you slap their ass

•They both tense up and freeze

•When they see you running past them and laughing, they are quick to give chase

•They Chase you down the field and into the parking lot

•Stu was the one to tackle you onto the grass, making sure to protect your head when you fall

•Stu pins you down while Billy catches up 

•When (a winded) Billy reaches you two he drops to his knees and starts tickling you

•Neither boy takes to seriously and think it's a playful invention to rough house and playfully fight

Thomas Hewitt:

•While he was meticulously cutting up some cow legs, you spotted a golden opportunity 

•Thom’s fat ass in perfect position 

•After circling him, carrying the same box of tools, you decide to go for the kill

•”Tommy!” You shout while running past him

•Your hand makes firm contact with the side of his rear 

•You leave a blazing trail up the stairs while Thom processes what happened

•Thom watches you run away while his ass stings 

•At most he's confused 

•He just goes back to work 

Bubba Sawyer:

•You were playing with him outside

•Running around, picking flowers, picking up pebbles, roughhousing

•While play fighting you slap is ass and run away hoping he would chase you

•instead he stands for confused 

•after an awkward couple seconds, you realize he's not going to chase you, So you walk back to him 

•You ask if He's okay and realize his eyes is watering 

•After a frantic apology and check over You managed to figure out that he's not hurt 

•Bubba Just associates spanking with being bad/bad behavior 

•He was upset because he thought you were punishing him for being too rough 

•You made it up to him by making him a flower crown 

Bo Sinclair:

•This could go one of two ways

•He could be really into it OR he could freak out

•It depends on what mood you catch him in

•One day he'll think it's sexy and want you to do it again 

•The next he'll have a PTSD attack remembering his childhood 

•It's honestly best if you keep your hands to yourself

Vincent Sinclair:

•He honestly thought you did it by accident 

•He didn't understand that you were trying to play 

•He didn't react at all 

•You have to tell him what you're trying to do 

•He gets very embarrassed about not understanding that he kind of shut down for the day 

•He remains hunched over on his desk for the rest of the day 

Lester Sinclair:

•It honestly doesn't matter what you do to Lester, He's just happy you're giving him attention 

•The man is the definition of a puppy 

•He's just happy to be here 

•So if you want to play a game of Chase, He’lll Chase

•As soon as you slap and run away he's hot on your heels 

•He chases you through a field and down the roads 

•When he catches you he's out of breath and takes a second to dry heave 

•Then he'll hug and kiss you while walking back to the Truck 

Billy Lenz:

•Billy is one of the characters you Can not hit

•You think he'd be into to quick slap, but he has the opposite reaction 

•He thinks you're planning on hurting him And will either attack you or hide 

•If he chooses to attack, You're likely going to have to hold him down until he calms 

•If he hides, leave him alone

•trying to find him would be like walking into a coyote's den

•eventually he'll come back out because you're the only person that still talks to him 

•He figures it's better to be physically abused than be lonely 

•Good luck explaining that it was just a joke 

Brahms Heelshire:

•He was acting up after you told him the grocery boy was coming today

•He was whining about how you don't need to interact with him and how the help shouldn't be seen or heard

•You remind them that you're technically ‘the help’ and he pouts on the couch 

•When the doorbell rings he immediately jumps up to try to stop you 

•You have a light bulb moment

•You get closer, reach around, and slap his ass

•You almost immediately push past him to run to the door 

•Brahms is quick to follow, but not quick enough

•You swing open the door before Brahms can reach you

•He hides just in time, and proceeds to stew behind the door.

Hannibal Lecter:

•While he was cooking up some breakfast you come up behind him and hug him

•He greets you and continues to cook 

•You two have a lazy conversation while you lean your head against his shoulders 

•Deciding he's not pay enough attention to you come up with a plan

•You steal one of his knives, slap his ass, and bolt out of the kitchen 

•He gives you about a 5-second Head start before he begins his hunt 

•In that time He turns off the stove and allows himself time to find you

•He slowly starts his prowl 

•Checking doors, behind furniture, around the stairs, and behind curtains 

•When he finds you, he pounces and pulls you into a pinning hug

•He forces the knife from your hand and kisses your forehead

•”Let me finish breakfast, then I'll spend time with you.”

Will Graham:

•While on the world's most boring fishing trip (Will Even admitted this trip sucked) You watch as no lines get tugged

•board out of your mind you decide to at least mess around 

•While Will was leaning over to check his lines you slap his ass as hard as to can, which throws him into the calm river

•You howl with laughter as Will get thrown overboard 

•When he resurfaces we comes back up with a scowls on his lips, but a playful look in his eyes

•”You suck” he chuckles while you help him back in

•As soon as he's on board, he throws you into the water and laughs

The Lost Boys:

•All the boys are up for a good chase, But they all have different reactions 

•David

-Slapping David's ass takes balls

-As soon as you try to run he has you by the arm 

-He smirks and pulls you towards him

-”Oh-ho-ho, where do you think you're going?”

-If you play your cards right he'll let you go to properly chase you 

-All’s well and good before he flies at you like a hawk

•Dwayne

-He'll let you run away But as soon as you're out of sight the game is on 

-It doesn't matter where you're at 

-The boardwalk, the cave, the forest, the beach 

-He sprints and tackles you to the floor 

-”Did you honestly believe you could outrun a vampire?” He muses

-could turn playful, could turn romantic 

•Paul

-as soon as your hand collides with his ass, he shrieks 

-He playful pretends he's wounded 

-He writhes on the ground, cries fake tears, hand over forehead

-”Why should you do this to me!” 

-”I thought you loved me!” 

-Walks around all day telling his brothers that you abuse him 

-gives you love bites while telling his tale of woe 

•Marko

-when you slap his ass he lets out a moan that causes both of you to freeze 

-after a few seconds Marko whips around 

-”Tell no one.” He says in a completely serious voice 

-You know for a fact the others would make fun of him for the rest of his unnatural life 

-Every time you're behind him, he turns around to face you So it never happens again

Thanks for reading <3

Sorry this took so long! I've had a busy week!

[chilfucked]

You guys ever think about how terrifying and violating this scene must have been for Chil? (analysis under cut)

I want you to put yourself in Chil’s shoes for a moment. You’re at minimum a head smaller than everyone in your party. The only combat skills you have are long range and mostly support, plus you don’t even have your gear right now. You’re balls deep in the dungeon. You’re starving. You just had a near death experience when your party did NOT have the means to revive you (nothing to replace calories. assuming the mimic beat you). And now the people you’re essentially stuck with are ganging up on you.

I get that this is played as a gag but. This is like. Real fear in his eyes. He’s actually scared. TERRIFIED. And rightfully so.

Here you have:

Senshi: The guy you just met who clearly doesn’t respect you or you autonomy not only suggesting to use your tools against your will, but he’s actively physically restraining you. Something that is known to be very demeaning for his entire race and especially to him.

Marcille: The girl you only met a couple of adventures ago who also kind of doesn’t respect you, like, at ALL who’s just sitting there watching.

And Laios: The ONE GUY HERE that even remotely respects you that you’ve just BARLEY started trusting, who is now betraying that trust by being the one to take your belongings and use them against your will. In front of you. After you told him to stop.

Like. Don’t get me wrong, the cutaway gag to this was funny, but that doesn’t change the actual disdain he’s feeling here. This is someone realizing he’s stuck with people he cannot trust in a situation far too dangerous for him to deal with on his own. There’s no respect for him. His autonomy. His belongings. Nothing. None of what he believed earlier is present. I don’t know if this was a contract breach or not, but it was a personal one for sure. I can only begin to imagine what’s running through his head right now, and how powerless he feels here to the mistreatment by people he doesn’t know and or JUST started warming up to.

Sure, he has a moment to justify it to himself here. Everyone’s tired. Hungry. They didn’t mean any harm by it, and in the end it was better for everyone, right? (Ignoring the fact that they could’ve de-shelled the mimic using Senshi’s wok but that’s neither here nor there I guess.) But deep down he knows that doesn’t really make it right. That doesn’t change the fact it wasn’t handled properly. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s not being respected at all in this decision. Not even being taken into account other than to be removed from the vote entirely.

And, at the end of it, you’re still being demeaned. Still being treated like a child who shouldn’t get a say. Your justified anger just being used against you to show how immature you’re being. The louder you yell to be taken seriously, the less seriously you’re taken.

Sure, everything works out in the end. He’s made some of the best friends he’ll ever have in his whole life, but here? Now? Chilchuck is alone. Isolated from anyone he could go to. Trapped, used, disregarded, and more closed off than he’s been in a very long time. Because he was actually starting to trust the people around him again. And for what? It just happened again.

[heechwe]

enchanted ↦ jww

⋆ pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader ⋆ word count: 6.1k ⋆ genre: fluff. semi-angst ⋆ tags: cinderella-ish retelling, royalty!wonwoo ⋆ synopsis: Life as the housemaid and an inconvenience to your family is not what you wished for, but Wonwoo brings a new, royal perspective that turns your world around.

Scrub, wipe, shine. The chant plays over in your head, a symphony to block out the call of your horrendous stepsister trotting down the staircase. She says your name with a shriek but you pay her no mind. More than likely she has another errand for you to do. One she will take pleasure in you finding uncomfortable, no doubt. The color of the suds and sloshing sounds of the water bring you comfort. You dip your rag in the bucket next to you and plop it on the tile floor. Taking pleasure in the most menial tasks makes life a lot more bearable.

Heejin calls your name again when she makes it to the last step, knowing well enough you can hear her when she’s standing over you. “Are you deaf? We need new clothes from the market!”

You look up to her, a confused but indifferent expression on your face. You don’t bother asking what the clothes are for, but you know she’ll tell you regardless.

“For the ball, you imbecile,” Heejin says.

Minha, the younger of the stepsisters, pipes up behind Heejin, her voice a squeak compared to her older counterpart. “It’s the prince’s coronation.”

You nod and continue scrubbing the tile. If the task at hand isn’t done before your stepmother gets home, she will have your head on one of the pikes lining the kingdom’s outer walls.

“Finish this and then head to the seamstress. The fabric must be on my bed by sundown, or Mother will not be pleased,” Heejin says, a warning interwoven with the smirk on her lips.

Heejin purposefully kicks your bucket of soapy water across the floor on her way to the sitting room. The liquid drenches your apron and face thoroughly. You wish you could sling an insult at her for her entitlement along with her lack of care for anyone’s wellbeing but her own. Minha’s face transforms into a small frown, her eyes expressing sympathy as she follows her sister’s trail.

Since your father took gravely ill five summers ago, you have yet to receive an ounce of kindness from your newfound family. “Family” is barely a word you’d use to describe the relationship between yourself and them, the wolves who invaded your home on the eve of your fourteenth birthday, just a year after your mother’s passing.

Minha is the kindest of them all for her inaction during your stepmother and Heejin’s abuse, but you wish you had a confidant somewhere in the world. 

You rifle with the letters you saved from your father and mother, the inscriptions inside of them the last memory you have of them both. Some written to each other, others simply their musings and thoughts you wish you would have discussed with them before they left this earth.

If only someone knew you truly, who cared to hear your words and valued their meaning. Who saw life as a gift rather than a tool used to induce a person’s misery. If dreams could become reality, you would not be alone another day.

Wonwoo mentally checked off the items in his head that the king and company expected to be done for the coronation ball. The town baker was provided with the list of desserts and bread necessary for the feast. The lute and harp players were given an excellent amount of coin for taking part with their instruments. Even the meat and dairy from the kingdom’s best butcher was safely stored in the horse-drawn carriage behind Wonwoo’s own stallion. The final task in need of completion was a trip to the seamstress. In the words of the king, “it’s not every day my boy finds a bride.”

On arrival, Wonwoo was enraptured with color. He absorbed the rolls of fabric and material encased on the shelves, the finest satin and puffiest tulle displayed for ladies and gentlemen to spare no expense on for the upcoming celebrations. He gave the specifications to the shopboy almost an hour ago, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind spending a bit longer outside of the castle walls.

The bell above the door pierces the air with its chime, and Wonwoo looks up to see the most encapsulating view in existence. Would someone disbelieve him if he said that view included a girl with cheeks caked in soot, her hair pulled back underneath a common scarf, and her clothes as drab as a servant girl’s? Probably. But the sunshine on your face and twinkling eyes suggests to him that he should continue looking for as long as he can.

The seamstress and owner of the shop comes from behind the store, a sketching pencil tucked atop her ear and a vibrant smile on her lips as she says your name, the letters together a lovely orchestra. “Here for the usual order?”

“No. Heejin needs something spectacular for the ball. Her words, not mine.” You raise your hands in mock surrender, and the seamstress laughs.

“I’ll see what I can do. Just wait a moment.” In a flash, the seamstress walks back to her private area of the shop, and Wonwoo is left alone again with you, the mysterious but mesmerizing girl. A maid perhaps, given the nature of your visit?

All he knows is that he must talk to you, whether you recognize him or not.

You lightly tap your hands against the wooden counter, waiting for Miss Jae to come back with a fabric to take home. Hopefully one that Heejin loves enough to keep. That way you don’t have to come back on foot a second time today.

“Blue is best.”

You turn with a gasp. The man attached to the voice is adorned in royal clothing, golden cufflinks and buttons matching the royal purple material of his clothes.

 “Sorry,” you stutter, hands suddenly clammy.

“Your color.” He slides over to a roll of sky blue satin, placing a patch of it over his arm. “It looks terrible on me, but on you, I believe you would outshine any commoner.” He lets out a breathless chuckle and intakes a deep gulp of air.

It has been so long since another person wanted to engage with you, especially someone as handsome as the person before you. He may be as nervous as you, given his awkward introduction, but you know your conversational skills are worse for what. You aren’t sure how to converse anymore about topics outside of dinner orders and cleaning supplies.

“Thank you, but I won’t be attending the upcoming festivities.” You try to hide the sadness that threatens to break free on your face, but you’re too late. The stranger sees it and responds in kind.

“Everyone is welcome to the coronation,” he assures you.

“I’m afraid ‘everyone’ does not involve me…Your—” You stop short, unsure of his title as you don’t know his name or his face from recent memory.

“Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo.” Wonwoo breaks into a smile. You’re unsure whether you like his laugh or his smile more, but both seem to make your cheeks heat up all the same. He reaches out his hand for you to shake, and you give yours back, curtsying in response.

You tell him your name as well, a blush on full display. “As I said, Wonwoo, I usually stay in. Not in my nature to court or be courted.”

“That’s a shame. I’m sure your company is surely missed.” His hand is still caressing yours, thumb rubbing up and down your palm softly.

A shopboy suddenly comes into view. You both separate quickly, the intimate bubble bursting at the intrusion. The boy stuffs the garments in Wonwoo’s hands and bows swiftly before going back to his duties.

“You must be hard to miss as well, Wonwoo.”

“Well, you could say that.” You both hear a horse neigh outside the shop doors, and Wonwoo barely fights the urge to stay with you. “Until the next time.” He says his goodbye and your name with determination. If only you could assure him there will be a future where you cross paths again, but that hope may be squashed as quickly as it was born. It wouldn’t hurt anyone to hold onto it, though.

“Not terrible,” Heejin says when you come home, running her hand over the material Miss Jae gave to you. “If Mother needs more yards of it, you’ll have to go back immediately before they run out.”

“Of course, sister,” you say. You hate to use that word for someone as vile as Heejin, but Stepmother Jung enforced the rule as strictly as the list of chores you were to complete before the sun set every day. “We must always be a family in the eyes of society,” Stepmother Jung told you once after your father passed. “Even if you will never be a part of this one, you have to play your role.” If only that role extended to social gatherings.

Minha looks over Heejin’s shoulder and smiles. “It’s a beautiful pattern.”

“That’s why it’s for me. Mother will give you one of my old gowns to wear,” Heejin tuts and pats Minha under the chin with her free palm. You know Heejin spares her worst behavior for you, but in your eyes, Heejin doesn’t deserve the title of sister in any form. Just as your stepmother has no business being a mother to anyone.

“You’re dismissed,” Heejin says to you, the hand that was under Minha’s face used to wave you off.

“Sister, if I may.” She grimaces at you, but a curious spark remains in her eyes. You think back to Wonwoo, plucking up every ounce of your confidence. “I was wondering if you may consider letting me attend as well. Stepmother may not let me go of her own volition, but if you told her you approved then maybe-”

“And why would I do that,” Heejin says. She knows exactly what you want, and the only way for her to entertain the idea is if you grovel.

“Because I have never asked anything of you before.”

“As you should.” Your stepmother’s figure and shadow encompass the entirety of Heejin’s bedroom doorway. You immediately lower your head; it’s one of the humiliating rules you have to obey in the wake of becoming the family servant. You hear Heejin snicker, but it’s cut off immediately by Stepmother Jung clearing her throat. “Your purpose in this household is to do what is asked of you without complaint or question, not the other way around. Asking for anything else is an insult to me and my daughters.”

You feel tears prick the back of your throat, but you hold onto your resolve with a steadfast grip. “Stepmother, I am begging you—”

“I do not know what is worse, girls,” Stepmother Jung says, addressing Heejin and Minha, “hearing someone beg for something that will never come true or seeing someone forget their place in this world.”

Your bottom lip quivers without your approval. You can only hope none of the other people in the room are paying attention to your despair. Heartbreakingly, it appears they don’t.

“Now, Heejin, we need to measure you again for your dress. I swear you grow an inch every time you require a fitting, dear girl. Minha, I know exactly which of Heejin’s dresses will look perfect on you.” She motions for you to look her in the eye, and you force the tears to evaporate. “As for you, you have chickens to feed.”

“Seungcheol, I told you already, the conversation is over.”

“That’s Prince Seungcheol to you, kid.” Seungcheol juts Wonwoo in the arm. The practice swords whip through the air as the birds sing throughout the courtyard. “And who’s to say a royal summons would embarrass her? Everyone is to attend the ball. Maid, mare, or otherwise.”

“She seemed certain she was not supposed to be there. I don’t want her to feel forced to do anything.” Wonwoo huffs as he lands a blow on Seungcheol’s hip.

“What good is it to be royalty if I cannot help a dear friend and the future Hand of the King find love?”

Wonwoo and Seungcheol grew up together due to their fathers’ stations, one bearing the crown and the other gaining the responsibility of advising him. Although Wonwoo had no place without Seungcheol’s family, they had become close in their own right. Once Seungcheol ascended his throne, Wonwoo knew he was to be standing beside him with the title his father had worn for most of his life. 

With that in mind, it seemed both Wonwoo and Seungcheol were on respective quests to find a bride to continue the long-held, individual legacies they were born into.

“All you have to do is smile and dance with every eligible woman in the next three kingdoms while I hope my mystery girl decides to step out of the shadows, unprompted and entirely by her choice.” 

Seungcheol scoffs, sweat on his brow from trying to find an open spot on Wonwoo to exploit. “You place high priority on a stranger’s independence and choice-making.”

Wonwoo blushes. His thoughts go back to the fabrics, the jasmine smell in the air, you walking into his life and halting his day in the best way possible. He wishes he had said more, learnt more about you, held your hand longer before he was whisked away back to his priorities. Now he could only hope you would find your way back to him, whether by fate or of your own free will.

With his thoughts occupied, Seungcheol takes the opportunity to knock Wonwoo in the shoulder. Seungcheol smiles triumphantly, biting his lip. “Finally, for fuck’s sake.”

Wonwoo chuckles. “You won’t beat me again, Choi.”

“Wanna bet?” Seungcheol jokes.

Wonwoo immediately thwacks Seungcheol’s sword out of his hand in response. The tip of Wonwoo’s meets the column of the prince’s throat, and he grins. “You should train more if you want to be half as good as me.”

Dust, sweep, clean. You repeat the list in your head with traces of melancholy in your heart. You weren’t expecting to be allowed to go to the ball without a fight, but Stepmother Jung was right. What was the point in fighting if you had no standing at all to barter with?

Minha calls your name, her appearance in the kitchen is like magic. You must’ve been too lost in your morose thoughts to notice her walk in. Or she seems to know how to sneak around the manor better than you do.

Her arms rest behind her back, concealing something. “I’m sorry,” she says immediately, surprising you.

“I cannot blame you for Heejin or your mother.” A part of you wishes you could be more cruel, but you’re certain you have little to no capacity to be, even to your worst enemy. “You have done nothing to require an apology.” 

“I have. You deserve to go to the ball as much as any of us do.” She looks over her shoulder for someone, or a lack thereof. Satisfied, she throws a lump of fabric on the kitchen island. You notice the bandages on Minha’s fingers with a quick glance before focusing on the dress. The turquoise material sparkles in the light of the stained glass windows. “So you will.”

“Minha, I can’t-” You feel the same tears coating the back of your throat again, grateful to her but incapable of accepting the gesture.

“You can. You were right when you said you’ve never asked for anything before. So don’t ask. Take the chance, and the dress, and go to the ball.”

With that, Minha disappears quietly from the room, leaving the decision in the air for you to either seize or surrender.

The main ballroom is filled with swathes of dancing couples alongside gossiping nobility and local townspeople. To a stranger walking in, it was a display of royal decadence, the party lit from within with the sounds of joyous laughter, heavenly harps, and gorgeous decor. To Wonwoo, it’s nothing out of the ordinary.

 Seungcheol and his parents sit in their royal chairs, the gleaming gold of the upholstery almost too polished for Wonwoo’s eyes. The young men share knowing glances when someone particularly obnoxious makes an entrance or wishes to greet the royal family. Wonwoo wishes he could joke with his best friend openly about the noble women’s copious frills and curly mops, but now is not the time or place.

Wonwoo’s father leaves the king’s side to pat his son on the back. “You did well with your part in this, Woo. Maybe you’ll be rewarded with finding someone to wed as well. Wouldn’t that be luck smiling on us all,” he says with a loving grin.

“I doubt that someone will show up.” Wonwoo frowns.

“Have faith, my boy.”

Like luck was indeed shining on him, Wonwoo looks up and sees you at the top of the stairs, horns blazing to signify your arrival. Even in a mask, he can tell it’s you from the skipping of his heart. With your hair in a loose bun, tendrils framing your face with precision, you look nothing like the girl he met in the dress shop yet the exact same. He wonders how the color blue had the capacity to take his breath away. It doesn’t help how the dress’s bodice hugs you perfectly, the bottom of the gown a cloud that Wonwoo wishes he could rest his head upon forever.

You fidget with the tops of your gloves that brush the neckline of your dress, the sleeves dropping loosely on your shoulders. Wonwoo wants to rush up the stairs to assure you there is no need to be nervous.You’re the most beautiful woman in this kingdom, tonight and always.

When you reach the bottom, everyone is looking at you, the mysterious stranger that nobody can recall or pinpoint. You hear murmurs as you pass, some predicting you’re a long lost relative of the prince or whispering of you being a foreign beauty. You laugh to yourself at their capacity to chat and how far they are from the truth.

You catch Minha’s eye from her corner of the room, Heejin and your stepmother sneering at you. Minha smiles, a silent cheer in her expression, and you respond with a mirrored grin.

You make it to the center of the room, the pathway cleared for you thanks to the shock and awe of the crowd. To your content, Wonwoo meets you halfway. A hush falls over the spectators when he meets you on the dance-floor, but you don’t care about their perceptions.

Wonwoo says your name and bows. You curtsy in response. Despite feeling out of place for half of your life, it seems instinctual now to be in this room. Not with the strangers surrounding you, but definitely with him. “My prince.” 

A look of shock over Wonwoo’s face, and he immediately laughs. “No, I-I— I should have told you before. I’m not—“

You place a hand to your mouth, the realization a flood. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

“I didn’t tell you before, so I wouldn’t expect you to—”

“I did say I don’t attend many social gatherings.”

You both share a laugh, the confusion dissipating your embarrassment at your slipup. You notice a well-dressed young man that steals all the glances in the room away from you, the man you now know is the prince himself. He strides over to Minha, her expression a pale sheet. He takes her hand for the next song, which she gleefully accepts.

Wonwoo pulls your attention back to him with the taking of your hand in his. “May I ask you to dance?”

“I would be delighted.”

You sit on one of the many balconies in the royal castle, breathless. Your feet should hurt more than they do with the multitude of waltzes you danced with Wonwoo, but they don’t. You wouldn’t mind if every limb ached, though. With Wonwoo beside you, breathless as well from the night’s excursions, you feel light as air. Free from the obligations you never asked for.

If only you knew Wonwoo felt the same way. He could not remember the last time he smiled this much in one day. Seungcheol was his best friend, his father the biggest influence in his life, and yet both of them reminded him daily of what the future entailed. With you, he didn’t feel anything but ease. 

“What if they send a kingsguard looking for us?” Your mouth is upturned in a smile, but you know Wonwoo shouldn’t be gone too long from the events. He was of some royal standing, and he needed to be there, shaking hands and bowing to subjects.

Wonwoo furrows his brows, his smile mirroring yours. “Seungcheol is the one who needs the most protection tonight. And besides, it would take ten of the best men to pull me from this balcony.” He chuckles. “Right now, there’s no other place I’d rather be.”

You nod and sigh happily. Looking over the edge of the marble landing, you agree with him. The town square is visible from your vantage point, the torches and homes, big and small, specks of light celebrating the coronation. “It is a beautiful view.”

“Is it indeed,” Wonwoo says, his eyes pinned to you and the bare skin of your upper chest. Your skin looks lit from within, your entire being a star amongst a sea of darkness. It’s at this moment Wonwoo knows his father was right. Luck has given him the greatest gift and more, and he won’t let you get away again.

You turn your head. His words make your breath hitch, but you try to reserve yourself. You smile in response and take his hands in yours. Your bodies are closer than you initially realized, and the look in his eyes begs you to move further towards him. 

All your life, you have lived at the whims of others. As you see it, there’s nothing wrong with taking your power back. Choosing at this moment to throw other parts of your life out of focus. Wonwoo is all you want, so you take your chance.

His mouth softly collides with yours, his lips careful to press too hard onto yours. He presses one hand to your neck, deepening his kiss and igniting a fire inside your heart. Every insult or slight you’ve endured over the years seems to fade away in that instant. You’re grateful, even, if it meant it all led to the moment in front of you, a man who seems to share your feelings confirming so with a kiss you’ve never experienced before.

You break away from him, each others’ lips still centimeters away. Wonwoo inhales a shaky breath, eyes hazy with longing. The desire to kiss him again and hold him closer is strong, but timing proves the night can’t last forever.

Your stepmother’s carriage suddenly comes to the front of the palace, and you feel your stomach fall.

You quickly step back from Wonwoo and take a breath, nerves spiking and your heart telling you to defy your head at this moment. It would be so easy to stay here and not look back, but the fallout would be too incredible to bear. And you wouldn’t wish that on this beautiful man in front of you.

“I must go,” you say, a sob caught in your throat.

“Please don’t leave. It’s only midnight,” Wonwoo insists, squeezing your hand. In the same fashion as the day you first met, he’s rubbing circles into your palm, almost like an incantation. With his words and his touch, maybe he can convince you.

Unfortunately, your choices can’t be that easily swayed when so much is on the line.

“I told you before Wonwoo. My life isn’t filled with parties like this,” you reply, tone wavering, “or people like you.” You take his hand in both of yours and press a kiss to the knuckles. “But I’ll cherish this forever.”

Before the pleading look on his face breaks your resolve, you gather your skirts in your hand and run.

You run down the staircase Wonwoo brought you up only moments before.  He calls out your name,  but you refuse to look back now, knowing it will break you to look into his eyes and walk away again if need be. You feel yourself fading the further you run away from him and out of his life.

It’s true, you’ll never forget him or the way he’s made you feel. But it’s also true that it is terrible to forget one’s role in the world. How does one witness all the colors of the world and accept going back to living in black and white?

Little did you know the paper you carried in your skirt's pocket had fallen out on the way out of the palace. Wonwoo looks through the forest lining the castle and curses, you disappearing successfully in the darkness. 

Before he can walk back into the ballroom, he notices the aged paper on the brick steps of the stairs. He unfurls it and reads the handwritten text. He exhales with relief, feeling in his gut he has found the key to finding you again.

No matter where he has to look, whether it’s beside a babbling brook or the highest castle on the far side of the ocean, he promises himself the next time he sees you he will make sure you stay by his side forever.

You feel the sticks and twigs scrape your arms and legs as you run into the forest, the fabric of your dress in ribbons by the time you make it home. Thankfully, you don’t see the coach or footmen anywhere in the distance.

Once you’re inside, you discard the clothes and makeup into the cellar’s hearth. Each item burns slowly, reminding you with every new cinder of your harsh welcome back to the reality you’re familiar with.  The smock you quickly tied around your waist and the soot you smeared across your face to avoid suspicion. The calluses on your palms from the endless, menial work. Your pliable acceptance of cruelty.

It’s all you’ve known, but it feels foreign at the same time. You don’t want to go back to your routine now that you’ve had a taste of what life could be.

Your stepmother and stepsisters waltz into the foyer. Minha looks starry-eyed and love-swept, all of which relate back to her dallying with the prince.

“I can’t believe he danced with me but was looking at you the entire time,” Heejin sneers at Minha, removing her gloves with tense fingers.

You smile to yourself, happy Heejin was knocked down from her high horse and the tides turned in Minha’s favor.

“The good thing is that the prince showed one of you attention, my love.” Your stepmother splays her fur coat out on the loveseat, your cue to immediately scoop it up to carry to the coat closet.

“Tomorrow you need to clean inside the cupboards. I noticed they were a tad dusty,” Heejin says before you can walk out of the room. Your heart was heavy before, but now it’s numbed and frozen to the habitual torture.

"Of course, sister."

Wonwoo rubs his fingers over the page’s text as his father interrogates the young girl in front of them. Seungcheol sits back in his throne beside the king’s chair, curious if this is the girl his best friend whisked away four nights prior.

Wonwoo’s father plucks the writing from Wonwoo’s hand and gives it to the knight. The knight hands it to the girl, her face doe-eyed and timid. “Is this writing familiar to you in any way?”

She looks down to the floor and shakes her head. “No, Lord Hand.”

She didn’t look familiar at all to Wonwoo, just like the last dozen women who came before his father and the prince.

Seungcheol’s idea to find Wonwoo’s mystery girl by interrogating every noble and common girl in the kingdom sounded stupid the second Wonwoo heard it. But with the king’s approval and the hand’s enthusiasm to find his child a bride, the plan was enacted.

Now, in paper and practice, Wonwoo feels more defeated the longer they continue. The only thing that gives him solace is the paper he found, his only connection to you keeping him grounded.

The girl bows for Wonwoo and the royal figures in front of her before being escorted away from the great hall. Wonwoo’s father hands the paper back to his son and sighs.

“I feel we are much closer,” his father says to lighten the mood.

Wonwoo laughs sadly. “It seems you’re the only one who feels that way.”

Seungcheol stands from his chair and pats his friend on the back, his version of a hug. “Closer or further, we’ll do whatever we must,” Seungcheol says to Wonwoo’s father.

Wonwoo’s father exits, a handful of knights marching behind him.

Seungcheol puts a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder. He looks at his best friend with sincerity, a vulnerability he rarely shared with anyone. “You cannot lose hope now.”

Wonwoo nods. “That’s not what I’m afraid of losing. The longer this search continues, the more I feel our chance slipping away.”

Wonwoo traces the familiar pattern of the words with his thumb, the lost paper the one thing holding him steady.

You rifle through the documents you’ve held onto over the years, fear triggering the tremble in your hands. You had brought the dress home from the ball and immediately threw it in the fire. If you had accidentally discarded one of your father’s most precious letters along with the items you burned that night, you’d never forgive yourself.

You hear a horse-drawn carriage outside of the manor and the shrill wail of Heejin calling your name. It stamps down your anxiety enough for you to focus on following the sound.

Walking into the room, you see your stepmother lacing up Heejin’s corset while Heejin is putting a dab of rouge on both cheeks. “The royal carriages are outside!”

You gulp and nod at your sister, unsure what she wants from you.

She exhales with an angry breath and motions for you to go upstairs. “Get my shoes, you idiot!”

Minha stands at the top of the stairs and looks at you sadly. “I could’ve gotten them for you if you just asked, Hee.”

“Like you could do any better,” Heejin remarks. Her voice becomes airy when your stepmother reaches the final inch of tightening on Heejin’s corset. You run up the stairs to quickly follow your orders.

You squeeze Minha’s hand as you pass her to walk towards Heejin’s room. When you find the slippers and place them on your stepsister’s feet, someone knocks on the door forcefully.

Minha and Heejin stand in the center of the room as your stepmother walks up to the front door. You run back down to the cellar. 

Typically you would answer the door for company, but you knew your stepmother wouldn’t want the royalty welcomed by the unbecoming help.

Regardless, your heart thumps furiously at the sound of the stranger at the door delivering his greeting. And you can only wonder what will occur because of his presence.

Wonwoo waits in the carriage as the knight addresses the lady of the house. Wonwoo vaguely remembers his name and feels guilty for not keeping it to memory. Mingyu, was it not?

The lady of the house, her mouth a permanent grimace, nods and opens the door wide for the company to come inside. Wonwoo’s father steps out and Wonwoo follows behind him. Seungcheol exits his own carriage as well.

They all enter the manor, and Heejin can’t help her squeal at the prince’s presence in their home. Wonwoo stifles an eye-roll, keeping his mind focused on business.

As soon as Seungcheol locks eyes with Minha, he smiles. “My lady,” Seungcheol says, striding over to her to bend down and kiss her hand. Minha’s cheeks turn a deep scarlet, but she bows accordingly and smiles.

“‘My p-prince,” Minha stutters.

Heejin sneers at her younger sister, but the prince is too enamored with the young woman in front of him to pay any attention to her.

Wonwoo’s father coughs, redirecting everyone’s attention to him. “Madam Jung, our records indicate there are four residents in this manor. So, to be correct, outside of the three of you here now—”

Madam Jung giggles uncomfortably. “Forgive me, Lord Hand, I have not been to the registrar in some time. Those records must be outdated.”

“So, the third child referenced in these documents-”

 “Took ill some time ago. Again, an oversight caused by immense grief, I assure you.” The words leave her mouth instinctually. Wonwoo feels the confidence in her words and how false it is. From the conduct of her oldest daughter, he’s not surprised lies and negativity are commonplace in the household.

A rumble from the below startles both the women and Wonwoo’s father. The knights instinctively grab the hilts of their swords, but to no danger, a girl covered in ashes from the hearth saunters into the center of the foyer, tears streaming down her face and fists clenched.

In that second, Wonwoo feels he could cry as well.

He wants to run over to you and kiss the tears from your face, squeeze you tight, and get down on his knee in front of everyone in the room. The weight of the ring box in his pocket reminds him of what he has wanted to do since you left him alone that night. He inhales a deep breath, both elated and terrified at once, wondering what is going through your mind at the sight of him here.

I’ll never let you go again, he thinks with steadfast certainty.

Wonwoo comes back to reality when he realizes you’re stomping towards your stepmother. You have barely noticed anyone else’s presence in the room besides hers, and he’s sure you heard every word of her lies from the cellar. The pain on your face is a mixture of incredulity and anger. The emotions are knotted together in the expression on your dampened face.

“How dare you,” you whisper, lips quivering but voice solid as a stone.

“How dare I-” Your stepmother starts, but you raise a hand to her. She blanches. Surely she’s shocked to see this side of you rear its head.

“My whole life, the only act of kindness you’ve shown me is pretending I didn’t exist, in spite of my father’s love for both of us. And now, after everything, to wish me dead…” 

You muster what is left of your strength to continue. “I’m unsure what I did to deserve such hatred in this family, but all I’ve ever wanted was to belong. Was that worth me being punished for this long, mother?” The word tastes like venom on your tongue. It prickles the flesh on your arms to call her such a title, but spitting it back at her with vitriol makes a part of your anger subside.

“You w-will not speak to me like that in my own home, you l-little pest,” she stutters. To your satisfaction, her insults have no weight now.

“This house could be eaten by the hearth, for all it’s worth. It’s no home of mine anymore,” you say.

Done with her and your speech, you begin to walk away. You stop short at the audience in front of you, failing to recognize their presence before. You bow to the Hand and Prince Seungcheol, but you freeze instantly when you see Wonwoo barely ten feet away.

A burden lifts from your heart when your eyes meet. Suddenly, the two of you are in each others’ arms, the pain you felt prior a vague memory.

“I knew I would find you,” he whispers, placing a kiss on the top of your head. He cups your cheeks with his hands, some of the soot scraping off onto his fingers.

You smile wide. What could you say to encompass the feeling of seeing him again? No words would do the sensations justice.

Wonwoo continues before you can respond. “Like the stars you look to above.”

Hearing your father’s words on his lips makes your heart swell. Of course he had the letter. It had to be fate. It was meant to be lost and then found by the man you fell in love with so easily.

“Follow your faith home, and you shall find my love,” you finish, biting your lip to hold yourself back from weeping more.

Unable to stop himself, he presses his lips to yours. He steals the smile on your mouth for himself, his mouth turns into a grin through the kiss. Even when you separate, your foreheads remain touching. 

You had been led to believe, through years of darkness and cruelty, dreams couldn’t come true. And now, with a full heart, you realize love can make every dream come true if you believe.

[watsittoyah]

The Devils Playpen

A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC

NEXT

This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.

That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.

You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…

Chapter 1) When The Predator Becomes Prey…

(Song: Obsession By Exo)

Warning: Mentions of suicide. Stalking, choking of non sexual nature. Oral sex, shibari, threats of r*pe, Light Saber play (don’t be dumb you know what that last tag means)

I walk past a woman with long and short locks but she brings no excitement to my inner beast.

How lucky she is.

I hiss internally as I walk inside of the apothecary. Once I’m inside I inhale deeply, letting the poison I desire call to my senses.

However I smell something else. Something sweet? Sticky? I let my eyes fall onto a man hunched over in a corner. I don’t bother with manners of averting my eyes.

My curiosity has a scratch and I want it itched.

“Hello?” I call out to him in a soft voice. The man appears to be sleeping and I walk closer but keep my distance. His scent still smells sticky and sweet. Like those man eating plants over on Plexart.

“Hello, sir? I’m here to buy some supplies.” I say as I stare at his sleeping form. I flick an empty bottle over and it shatters causing him to finally stir from his slumber.

“Oh, sorry.” He stretches and does a big yawn before he looks over at me. When our eyes meet, he runs his fingers through his mop like hair and gives me a lazy smile. “Oh, hello. And you are?” He asks as he stands fully.

I take note that we have a significant size difference. He looks to be 5’11 while I stand at 5’4.

“I’m here to buy supplies, unless you aren’t the owner of this shop.” I ask in a gentle yet bored tone. He clears his throat and nods. “I am, I am. So what can I get for you? Ah, pick your poison.” He jokes. I however don’t laugh or crack a smile.

“I just needs a few things on this list. Whatever you don’t have, I’m sure I can find on my travels.” I hand him a piece of paper and our fingers brush against each other. He feels cold to the touch.

Interesting…

“Hm, this is quite the list. Might I ask what are all of these for?” He asks as he looks at me.

No, he’s studying me. Which makes my inner beast stir.

“Just some tools on helping me hunt. Nothing major. I don’t mean to be rude but I do need to be on my way.”

“Right, I will get on this for you now.” He starts on my list and I decide to look around and figure out if I’m going to kill him or let him live since he brings a spark of something out of me.

“Can I ask you a question?” The man asks, which causes me to give an internal sigh. “What is your question sir?”

“Qimir, you can call me Qimir. Anyways my question for you is, what methods do you take to hunt your prey?” This question peaks my interest because the way he says prey I think he knows I hunt a different kind of species.

“There’s many ways to do that. Poisons, bare hands, even a simple isolation tactic. But the best method…is simply a mental attack. That works on any kind of prey.” I say with a hint of a smile on my lips. I look up and see Qimir staring at my lips.

I bite my plump bottom lip, which makes his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows.

“Forgive me for prying, but the items on your list, they are interesting. Bunta Root? That grows-”

“In one specific place I know, but I figured this place would have it here..” I look away from him and glance out the window.

In a matter of days, I will be at her door and I’ll she can’t escape me. I can’t wait to see her eyes widen by surprise. She’ll think how did a beast like me, hunt her down to the very last of her days.

Will she beg for her life?

Will she plead that I do it quickly?

The possibilities will be endless when I finally get my hands on Zen.

Zen…

She was once a great ally to my people at least until she got them killed.

Genocide, her and those moral less Jedi committed genocide to my people and I need to make sure they pay. She’s the final one and I just know, she knows I’m coming for her. Especially when the word went around on how her partner’s body was discovered.

I’ll never forget how his eyes had ballooned in his skull after I cracked his head open. I can almost picture his head hitting the concrete over and over and over. His brain matter was all over my hands, staining my nails with his blood.

If I close my eyes tonight will his ghost haunt me?

Will his soul ask me why I took him from his lover so soon?

I blink and I’m no longer in that glorious gruesome memory.

I turn and Qimir is standing close to me, almost making me flinch. “Excuse you.” I snap at him. He looks me up and down and cocks his head to the side.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…you remind me of someone I once knew. The resemblance is just uncanny. You look…exactly like her.” He whispers softly as he takes in my entire appearance.

Instead of stepping back, his scent makes my stomach grumble which makes me flick my split tongue against my inner cheek.

“Trust me Qi, if you knew me…you wouldn’t be standing so close.” I say to him letting my split tongue slither past my full lips. I notice his eyes darken from my movement for a split second.

“Why is that? I find you quite the interesting creature.” He says as he reaches out to touch my coiled curl. I jerk my head back not from his attempt to touch me, but from his scent.

I want to split my jaw open and take a chunk out of him. His scent had changed somehow. He smells like spiced sweet fruit.

I see a smirk on his lips and I want to bite him. I want to bite his flesh and rip i-

“Excuse me?” We break eye contact and I see a woman, she looks exactly like the woman I had passed when I came in here but her hair…it’s short. And she smells… sour.

I grow bored with her and move away from Qimir. But as I move away he grabs my wrist. I look down at his hand and then at him. “Don’t go anywhere. I’d like to finish this.” He lets my hand go and he moved away from me swiftly.

I narrow my eyes at his back as he talks to the woman. As I glance at her with boredom I can smell that she’s anxious? Scared?

Oh, maybe I can have some fun with her after all.

As Qimir talks to her, which tells me something is going on, I run my hand along the counter and ‘accidentally’ bump into her, causing her things to clatter to the floor.

“Oh I’m so sorry, Miss. Do forgive me I am not myself.” We lock eyes and in that moment, she’s frozen in place. Her pupils dilate. I can hear her pulse quicken. “I..it’s okay.” She stutters as I hand her her things.

“You are so pretty.” I say as I take in her whole face. I see her blink a few times and I study her presence.

She’s nervous, hmm her body is smart to be nervous, but is her brain?

“Oh! I’m sorry, I give compliments before I even give my name. I’m Akasha. And you are?” I see the apple of her cheeks deepen in color after I compliment her.

“I’m-” She looks away from me and at Qimir but I clear my throat and she looks back at me, trapped in my spell. “I’m Osha.” She whispers with a small smile. “Such a pretty name. I don’t mean to over step, but would you like some company on your travels?” Before she answers me, Qimir clears his throat.

I cut my eyes at him and he’s staring at me, in a way that makes me want to challenge him. “I thought you wanted your things in a hurry, Akasha.” He says my name as if he’s accusing me of something .

“Suddenly I am in no rush, especially when it comes to making new friends.” I stand as well as Osha and I step towards her. Inhaling her fear.

Her scent is starting to ripen, oh I need to sink my teeth into her, before she spoils. Before she-

“Mae, if you don’t mind. I’m just handling this customer and then I can get back to you.”

Mae?

I look back at the woman and she looks down at her fingers, fidgeting with them.

“Okay, Qimir.” She says with hesitation in her voice. She looks at me and I wink at her. “So, pretty one, might I ask, what brings you to an apothecary?” I ask as I lean against the counter, looking her up and down.

I wonder how her teeth taste.

“I’m just here to thank Qimir for the item he gave me. It helped me greatly.” I listen to her pulse and it quickens.

Oh you little liar.

Now I’m excited to know why she’s lying so much.

“You’re welcome. I hope I can help anyway I can to help you please your Master.” Qimir says as I feel him behind me. I look back and he was leaning forward, playing with one of my curls.

How did I not notice him this close to me?

I flick my hair from his touch and he sniffs his finger tips.

Did he just sniff his fingers?

“Akasha, since you’re making friends, how about being my friend?” Qimir asks as he stares me deep into my eyes.

Hmmm…

“I like being friends with girls, Qimir. They’re are nice and sweet….” I look at his lips and I can imagine biting them.

“But with boys? I tend to be a bit too rough with them. And you?” I look him over his slim athletic build. “You look like you break easily.”

I see him lick his bottom lip and I swear I hear a slight groan in his throat. He then lowers his voice so only I can hear.

“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Akasha. I tend to play rough with my things. Sometimes they break and sometimes they…turn to ash in my clutch.”

Excitement licks my veins as I inhale his scent.

Mmm it’s mixed with sweet, spice and arousal.

“Sounds like a threat, and a fun time. Maybe…” I lean in close to his ear, as he leans in to hear me. “…I can teach you how to play with your toys nicely by making you my new toy. Would you like that, Qi?” I flick my tongue against his ear and I hear a deep groan vibrate from his chest.

He’s about to answer me but Osha/Mae clears her throat and I feel both Qi and myself glare at her.

I look away and take a deep breath. “How about you talk to her and I’ll be back for my things. I have something to grab on that list that I know you don’t have here.” Before he can stop me I leave the shop and place my hood back upon my head.

••••

“I need Daroon moss for my special powder. Maybe if I’m lucky I can find some on the outer banks of this place.” I mutter as I continue to walk further into a crowd but my muscles tense as I feel I’m being followed.

Who would be stupid enough to follow me?

I decide to cut the chase short and duck further into the crowd.

They continue to follow me and that’s when I notice his scent.

The sweet spicy arousal.

I slip into an alleyway and I stand there counting as his scent get closer. That smell. If I were an addict, I would beg for a hit of that scent on a daily.

As soon as he is in arms reach I snatch him in close then push him to the ground. I then quickly take my boot and press it firmly against his throat.

“I don’t know about your other customers but I don’t like to be followed around stores or crowds.” I press down with a bit more pressure, just so he can answer me.

He winces in pain. “S….sorry. But I did…tell you I wanted…to finish this.” I go to step down harder but he grabs my ankle and twists, causing me to lose my footing.

He then pins me under him and I feel his full weight on top of me. “Get off of me.” I hiss. “Not until we finish this, conversation.”

“This conversation is over!“ I scream at him. He looks deep into my eyes and he gives me a wicked grin. “I’m sorry, but you seem to still think you have control of this situation. When clearly I’m the one on top. But I’ll be nice. The conversation will end after I tell you this…I’ve decided that I want you to be my new toy. And when I want something I take it.” I see a flash of something wild in his eyes as I feel his hands go for my throat.

His strength takes me by surprise as he starts cutting off my air supply. “Let…me…go!” I scream knowing it’ll cause at least someone to come find out why I’m screaming.

But…

No one comes.

Not even a curious onlooker.

He squeezes tighter and I try my best to fight him off. But it’s like an animal is wearing his skin and attacking me. I can feel him clearly aroused as he chokes me out on the ground.

Wait no, it can’t end this way.

I can’t die this way underneath this sick son of a bitch.

My vision starts to blacken around the corners. Qimir slowly starts to fog up into darkness, and just when I’m about to pass out, I hear him say these haunting words to me.

“You’re exactly what I’ve been looking for, Akasha, why would I ever let you go?”

•••••

I jerk awake and cough to clear my throat. I go to move except my body is tied up. But in a way that makes me look spread out like some attraction.

I glance around and see I’m somewhere unknown. And I’m completely naked. The panic starts to set in but it stops as soon as I smell his scent.

“QIMIR!” I scream his name as my eyes try to look for him. “I know you’re near! I can smell you! Show yourself!” I scream, in hopes that someone will hear me.

Someone did…

He did…

“I see you’re awake. Good.” Qimir says with a soft smile on his face. “What the fuck is going on! Where am I? Why and I here!” I shout at him, ignoring the cutting sensation from the ropes.

He pulls up a chair and sits down right in front of me. He stares at me as if I didn’t just ask him a barrage of questions. “You know you are a heavy sleeper. It was like I was dragging a dead body in here. Oh! This is my place by the way. It’s on a remote island so no one can disturb us.” He smiles big as if kidnapping me was something to be proud of.

“Why am I here?” I spat at him. Qimir looks at me as if I’m a piece of art to be gawked at. The way the ropes bite into my skin, I know they’ll leave marks and burns.

“Isn’t it obvious? You’re here because I want you here.” He brushes his thumb against his bottom lip and continues to stare…study me. I begin to feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

“Why am I tied up like this? I’m not some prized piece of meat!” He leans forward and strokes his hand against the fatty flesh of my thigh. “Because you look pretty….You are a female Venus Fly. Rare even when your people were alive and thriving. What was the ratio? For every fifteen boys, only three girls would be born. And I do like to collect rare things. But you? You, Akasha not only are you rare but you’re deadly. I have great use for you.”

I give him a bewildered look. “You’re fucking craz-” He gets up knocking the chair over and he had his hand gripping my jaw. “Don’t call me that, I’m not crazy. I see we have to start some lessons on teaching you how to have manners and respect for others.”

“GET OFF OF ME YOU BASTARD!” I scream at him, but all he does is smile. “You know now you’re screaming and yelling but soon you’ll worship me like a God. And I’ll be sure to reward you.” He takes his other hand and he trails his three fingers down my bare flesh, slowly getting closer to my exposed pussy.

“Stop.” I say as I feel him near my pubic hairs. “Do you know how much restraint I had to have, tying you up like this? The temptation I had to open this pretty little thing and slide anything it in just to watch your reaction?” He parts my wet lips and I feel my clit spasm.

“You wanted to sodomize me? You’re no better than-“ He makes me eat my words when he slides his middle finger inside of me while he uses his other two fingers to rub my lips.

My body responds to his touch which makes me angry. “S…stop.” I stutter to him. He leans in close to my ear. “Your lips are telling me to stop but these sets of lips seem to be telling me another story. As a matter of fact, how about her and I get better acquainted.”

Qimir slides his finger out of me and my pussy misses the violation. I see him get on his knees for me and he looks up at me, as if I’m a deity of some sort and he’s is there to worship.

I watch him lean in close to inhale my sex and I want to shrink back from him but in my attempts the ropes dig deeper into my skin.

“You smell so sweet, I wonder if the taste is the same.” He leans in and I feel his tongue flicking across my clit.

I clamp my lips shut to keep from moaning but he makes it a challenge as he grips my roped hips and buries his face deep into my pussy.

My eyes roll back as I feel his tongue twirl and flick across my clit. He presses his tongue flat against my pussy and my body tries to rock to find more friction.

“Careful, one false move and you could cause more rope burn, Akasha. But you like a little pain and pleasure don’t you?” Qimir asks as he opens my lips wider and slides his tongue deep inside of me.

This time I let the moan slip out. I feel him smiling against my sex and I don’t care. I need a release. I need to use his face.

“P…please.” I moan out as I look down at him, eating me out. He shakes his head and now he’s only using the tip of his tongue. “If…you…want something…then…say…Master.” He says lazily twirling his tongue.

“Please Master.” I whine. “I need to come.” He gives a deep guttural chuckle. “Look at you, moaning like a bitch in heat. I won’t forgive you for calling me crazy. But I’m not that cruel of a master.” He gives a hard suck to my clit causing me to groan and then he gets up off of his knees.

I was breathing heavy as I watch him grab something from his table.

A light saber.

My body tenses from the memories in my past of how much damage something like that can cause.

He lights it and the hue is blood red. He brings it close to me and I fight the urge to flinch. The heat from the saber could melt even the finest hairs on a person or animals skin.

“Don’t worry, my little flower. I’ll never use this part on you…just this part.” He turns the saber off and flips it so the handle it near me.

“Tell me, will you let me be your master? Will you let me teach you how to be the perfect predator?” As he asks me, I feel him rub the handle of the saber against my swollen clit and I shudder as I stupidly nod.

I don’t say a word from the fear and in his eyes I can tell he knows I’m afraid of the saber. “Akasha…you had a lot to say earlier. Why aren’t you being so colorful with your words now?” He slides the handle in slowly causing my eyes to roll back but my body stiffens again.

“Does this scare you? Does this give you pleasure?” He strokes the handle against my entrance and I let a nod go. “Pl-”

“Ah, what do you say?”

“Master…please. Don’t do that.” I moan out as he slides the handle in slowly. “Don’t do what? Slide the handle of my saber inside of the needy plump pussy? You don’t want me to make you feel good?” He whispers against my ear as his hand finds my throat.

The fear I have gets clouded when starts to slowly fuck me with the saber. I feel the build up in my lower stomach as I moan.

“See? Your body likes to feel good. It likes when I do this, but imagine how it’s going to feel when I use the real thing. When my cock is penetrating deep into your walls.”

He goes faster and my moans become more lose my from lips. My thighs burn from the rope and from the tension I have in them.

You can hear the wet noises coming from my soaking wet slit and I don’t care. I want a release.

“You’re taking it so well, my little flower. I bet you want to come don’t you?” I nod quickly as he slows down the pace. I try to buck my hips but I can’t from my restricting position. He raises a brow at me then. “Yes! Yes I do Master. Please!” I beg and plead.

He loosens his grip on my throat and he fucks me harder with the saber making my climax about to hit the tipping point.

“I’m gonna come.” I breathe out as I feel the anticipated tingle. But he stops, he yanks the saber out and tosses it across the room and I give out a shriek of frustration.

“Now would a crazy person deny a creature such as yourself the pleasure of coming? Don’t answer that, you might tell me the wrong answer and piss me off-” He grabs me by my tangled curls and yanks my head back, causing the rope around my shoulders and shoulder blades to tighten.

“You belong to me now, Akasha. Your pleasure, your pain, your very existence is mine. And when I see fit to let you come, it will be on my cock, my mouth, or my fingers. Do you understand? You can speak.” He orders as he looks me in my eyes.

“Yes.” I say through clenched teeth. “Yes what?” He asks with a raised brow. “Yes master…”

“Good girl.” He lets me go and kisses my temple. “Get some rest, we have some training to do tomorrow.” He lets me go and simply walks away, leaving me strung up like some prize that’s been won.

The very second I get the chance, I’m going to kill Qimir. I should’ve known that his scent would lead me to the devils playpen…

[manias-wordcount]

I'm surprised i haven't seen this more often, but I just love the idea of Loid Forger being in love with someone else while still married to Yor. I mean the whole idea that he didn't have a choice in the matter, and then falling for someone else after he and Yor "get together" has so much room for angsty sexual tension and i've always wanted to see how it could be handled.

Tell No One (Loid Forger x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝘂𝗵𝗵𝗵𝗵 𝗶 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗶 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛𝗔𝗛 𝗶 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽 𝗵𝗲'𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗟𝗠𝗔𝗢 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

Yor likes your cakes. Anya likes your cookies. He likes your smile. It gives him the perfect excuse to visit your bakery twice a week. 

  “Hi, Mr. Forger! Welcome back! The usual?”

  It gives him the perfect excuse to visit you.

  “Hi there!” He greets with a nod and a practiced smile. He’s gotten good at playing Loid Forger. But for him, it’s just another disguise in a long list of faces and names he has taken on for himself. And you? You’re just another person he uses to secure his role on the stage. Something that keeps him from breaking the so-carefully crafted illusion. So he tries not to dwell on how your own customer service smile turns shy, and your eyes turn away from his at the sight of his a little too genuine smile. He tries not to dwell on it all. Instead, he tries to think about work. About Anya. About Yor. “How’s the shop? Anything happens since the last time I was here?”

  He tries to think about anyone but you.

  But it’s hard- it’s hard because there you go letting out a soft giggle as a memory comes bubbling up from the back of your mind. A pretty little sound he could listen to for hours. But when you start back to talking- talking about the crazy run order that you just barely finished this morning for a couple whose baker got sick the night before the wedding- he finds that he could listen to this voice of yours every single day of his life if he had the chance. And it’s not a new discovery. It’s not a new thought. The same way the little spark he swears he feels when your fingers brush against his as you take his money- always exact change- from his hands is not a new occurrence. He’ll tell no one, but he knows. He knows it’s not new. It’s never new.

  So why does every time he comes to see you feel like the first time he fell for you?

  He tried not to think of you. He tries not to think of you. But the day he stumbled on your bakery tucked in a random hole in the wall and down a couple of stairs on a pathway that was just barely out of his way home from the hospital, he was hooked. The second he opened the doors to a homely little shop and smelt that delicious smell of freshly baked goods, he was interested. But from the moment he saw you, he was gone. 

  Twilight had developed a weakness. For the first since before he could remember. And that weakness just so happened to solidify Loid Forger. And that weakness just so happened to be you. 

  So his excuse was peanut butter cookies for Anya. They were the perfect tool to help her study after all, and she gobbled them up like a madwoman whenever she had the chance. And when he found out that you did seasonal cheesecakes, his excuse included picking up a slice of something sweet for Yor too. Because a husband that come back with all kinds of sweets and treats for his daughter and his wife was a good husband. And that’s what Loid tries to be. A good husband.

  But on visit eleven, you had shyly told him that you wear your grandmother’s wedding ring around your finger because when you’re twenty-six and unmarried, the government tends to not like you. He tries to assure you that you have nothing to worry about. That nobody would ever accuse someone as sweet as you of anything that would get you on the government’s radar. And immediately, he watched you grow flustered at his compliments. You even let him taste a traditional dessert from Hugaria you just learned how to bake the week prior as a thank you.

  But all he could think about as your hands held up the pastry for him to take in his own, his mind could only think about that wedding ring sitting on your finger. And how a real husband would give you more protection than just a dainty old ring. How he would give you more protection. More love. More of anything you ever wanted. More of anything you ever asked for. 

  Loid would take care of you. But Twilight? Twilight would marry you. Twilight would love you. And the fact that it’s so evident to him that he can no longer deny means that the most dangerous person in all of Ostania always manages to have a smile on your face flour lost somewhere in his hair. You make him as weak as you do strong. And that’s dangerous. That puts the whole mission in jeopardy. That puts you in jeopardy. And you don’t even realize it. You don’t.

  So he tries not to think about you. He swears on his life, he tries, he tries, he tries. He tries not to when he’s working at the hospital or out on the field saving lives. He tries not to when he’s passing by your shop in a rush to make it home. He tries to when he’s at home with his pretend family playing the perfect father and husband and man all wrapped up into one. He tries so hard not to.

  But yet, he finds himself coming back more often than he should. And he’ll tell everyone that it’s because you sell those peanut butter cookies that Anya loves. He’ll tell everyone that it’s because he loves the way Yor’s face lights up when he presents her with one of your delicious cheesecakes. And he’ll tell no one that he visits to catch a glimpse of the delicate curves of your body as you bend down to pluck an item from the display case. He’ll tell no one that he visits to memorize every feature of your face and picture it as a memory of what he’s fighting for.

  And he’ll tell no one that he visits to hear your voice and imagine all the sounds you would make when he finally had the chance to take care of you like a real man should. He’ll tell no one. Absolutely no one.

  Just like you’ll tell no one of all the times he’s pulled you to the back of the bakery and kissed you.

[akesdraws-blog]

Finding one of the turtles asleep on the couch

Version: 🎞️TMNT Bayverse🎞️

Who hasn't fallen asleep on the couch at some point? It happens to all of us, it could even happen to turtles.

⚔️Leonardo🍵

Like Donnie, it is very strange to see him asleep on the couch, but not impossible.

But for what you want, don't walk near this turtle if you see him collapsed on the couch.

Maybe you will say, why?

Well, Leo usually falls asleep on the couch only when he had a specifically heavy patrol and was also punished in the Hashi, and maybe you will say, What's wrong with that? Well, Leo ends a a little more tired than normal, which causes him to fall asleep, but also his reflexes to take over.

That's how it is.Walking near Leo when he is like this will probably only cause some accidental bumps. (Almost all in the abdomen and legs)

Casey was unlucky to find out after spending almost half an hour writhing in pain on the floor while he hugged his aching stomach.

Only Splinter is able to wake him up to go sleep in her room. (He is the only one with enough reflexes to avoid a blow)

Another thing, although it may not seem like it, Leo would be the guy with a very heavy sleep, Mikey could be playing his drums with all his energy, Donnie could be using one of his loudest tools, even Raph could be using the blender to prepare his protein shake, no one knows how Leo can sleep like that, but he'll wake up practically right away if a little bit of light hits his face.

🥊Raphael🧸

He is one of those most likely to see you asleep on the couch.

Maybe there was a “Fast and Furious” movie marathon.

But everyone will know he's in the room by the loud snoring that echoes through the sewer.

No matter how hard you try to wake him up, it's just not possible.

Raph will just say 5 more minutes and he'll fall asleep again.

Although he is also an honest grump.

You could ask him anything and he'll grumble back at you.

And he will literally say anything you ask him.

Last time Mikey asked if he loved him (at first he just wanted to see him frown and take a picture), and in response he received an honest reading of how much she adored his little brother, no matter how many times she made him angry. (Mikey almost cried after that)

While asleep he is so honest that sometimes his brothers use him as a kind of psychologist.

Leo even apologizes for the times they have fought, Donnie sometimes lets out some insecurities, Mikey just wants to hear his brother say that he loves him.

But changing the topic.

If you want to wake up this big turtle, just move one of his weights and he'll be there in a second.He does not like the weight to be modified or altered if he has not been notified beforehand.

Do it and he'll be checking every weight he has for about an hour.

⚛️Donatello ⚗️

Seeing him asleep is practically a miracle, because this adorable mad scientist doesn't sleep unless his body screams it at him.

So when you enter the lair and discover that the one on the couch is none other than Donnie, it's a huge surprise.

Of course, that also comes with certain caveats.

1. Don't try to wake him up or tell him to go to bed. (If you do, the thought of going back to sleep won't cross his mind again.)

2. Don't try to prank him when he's in that state. (Everyone learned the hard way that they shouldn't do it, and I'm talking about EVERYONE, even if you are their partner, revenge will come to you if you dare to do it)

3. Do not touch anything that has been left lying around.

The last one is the most important. Don't try to tidy it up, don't try to pick up the trash, don't even think about moving that plate with a half-eaten slice of pizza on it.

For heaven's sake, don't do it.

Because when Donnie wakes up and notices something different, he'll spend a full hour complaining that it wasn't a mess, it was a materialized brainstorm.

That's right, it seems that the empty soda can that Leo had thrown over had a purpose.

So if you don't want to have a dramatic Donnie, don't move anything around him.

🎉Michelangelo🍕

He is the one we will always see asleep on the couch.

Most likely, he tried to defeat a final boss from his most recent video game. (Courtesy of April)

So sometimes you could see his fingers move.

Donnie discovered that it was a combo that Mikey creates in his head and he writes it down so when Mikey wakes up he applies it. (And he copies it for when he wants to have an advantage)

But you should be careful if he stayed up late because of a horror movie marathon.

Because at any moment you can hear him screaming as loud as his lungs allow... and then he falls asleep again.

That's something everyone has experienced when Mikey is asleep after a horror movie.

Leo almost always loses his balance due to his brother's unexpected scream, but in the end he considers it as involuntary training for his reflexes.

Raph ends up breaking his comic book, or his water bottles burst from the force with which he crushes them in surprise.

Donnie ends up breaking his keyboard, or an experiment explodes.

°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•~°•

Hello everyone!, here returning from the lowest of my emotional state.

But here we are!

Tags: (Because it hasn't been tagged for a long time)

@turtle-babe83 . @dilucsflame33 . @thelaundrybitch . @scholastic-dragon . @leosgirl82 . @tmnt-tychou .@little-bunny-in-space . @happymoonangel . @lazyafgurl . @kikithedreamerwriter .@androidships007.

[freedomfireflies]

Three to Make Ready*

Summary: The third part to One for the Money*

Mr. Styles, your boss (and the CEO of the company you work for), offers to help you expand your OnlyFans business.

One of his suggestions?

Piercing your nipples.

Word Count: 5.4k

*Contains Mature and Explicit content! Please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞You are so much more important!*

“Deep breath for me, Peach, yeah?”

You attempt to obey his instruction, exhaling as calmly as you can. But the next intake of air catches in your throat as Mr. Styles runs the needle through the flame of your lighter.

He’s already convinced you to do quite a few things you wouldn’t have considered before.

But piercing your nipples has to take the cake.

When his request is met with silence, his eyebrow cocks up, and he looks over. “What did I just say, hm?”

“To breathe, yeah. I just, uh…kind of forgot how.”

He chuckles as he crawls back over to where you lay on the bed, newly sterilized object in hand. “Do you doubt me?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you retort through a thick swallow. “I wasn’t expecting nipple piercer to be on your resume.”

“Funny.” He takes the ice cube from you. “For your information, I happen to be a man of many talents.”

“Clearly.”

“Yes. So, you have nothing to worry about. I know what I’m doing.”

“Yeah? You pierce a lot of your client’s nipples?”

He smirks. “Only the good ones.”

With a rather stressed laugh, you settle back into the pillows, heart racing the closer he brings his tools.

In turn, he scoots a bit closer as well, eyes falling to your chest before his chin juts up. “Gonna have to take them out.”

“Oh. Right.” You glance down and hook your finger around the lacey covering over your breasts, gently pulling until your tits pop free. “Uh…there?”

He grins, attention flicking back to your face. “You seem nervous.”

“Gee, really? What was your first clue?”

“Your voice is shaking.” He nods at your arms. “And so are your hands.”

“Yeah, well…getting stabbed with a needle isn’t exactly a talent of mine.”

“You’ve been pierced before, haven’t you?”

“I mean, yeah. But not in my nipple.”

“It’s no different than a clamp,” he responds, moving toward your right breast. “Perhaps a bit more uncomfortable, but I know you can handle it.”

Your eyes narrow. “Yeah? And how exactly do you know that?”

A beat as a teasing smile tugs at his lips. “Because you like pain.”

Shit.

He brings the ice cube closer, running it gently down your feverish skin before encircling the hardened bud and coating it with the melting liquid. 

You hiss, back arching, and features twisting into a wince as you squirm back. “Oh, shit—”

“Easy,” he warns quietly, but he seems entertained. “This is just the ice.”

“I know, and it’s cold.”

“Gee, really? What was your first clue?”

You scoff. “Not funny. God, are you done?”

“What? You don’t like it?” he retorts, continuing to hold the freezing object over your sensitive skin. “Thought you’d be into something like this.”

“I…I am, I just…it’s cold.”

“Yes, you mentioned. Do you not like temperature play?”

You hesitate. “I mean…this is different.”

“Is it? It’s ice.”

“Yeah, but…normally it’s not followed up with a needle.”

He laughs again, eyeing your hardening nipple with great intrigue and calculated focus. “Relax, Peach. I know what I’m doing.”

“Mhm. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“Good girl,” he hums as your heart suddenly lurches in your chest. Then, he pulls the melting cube of water away from your body and brings it to your mouth. “Hold this for me, yeah?”

A tad stunned, you nod mutely and part your lips to take the ice between your teeth.

He’s pleased, smiling to himself before he continues his work on your breast. He plucks the nipple between his fingers and rolls it around a time or two, pinching hard in order to stimulate the nerves and make sure it’s ready.

“Are you breathing?” he asks quietly, sneaking a glimpse of your cautious expression.

You nod again, muscles going lax as you anxiously await contact.

With this assurance, he brings the needle to the pebbled bud, studying it with the utmost concentration as he smooths the skin out in order to create space.

“Ready?” he whispers, and your throat goes dry.

“Ready,” you stammer around the cube between your lips. So quietly, you’re surprised he hears you at all.

But he does, and he offers you a look of encouragement before he brings the sharp tip closer.

The sting is no worse than that of a bee, perhaps slightly more prominent. But even with your high pain tolerance, you can’t help gasping some as you feel the needle pierce through to the other side.

“Shit,” you murmur, eyes rolling up toward the ceiling in an effort to keep yourself from looking. “Oh, that’s…god—”

“You all right, Peach?” he asks calmly.

“I’m…I…yeah,” you manage, teeth grinding into the hard block of ice. “Fuck—”

“Easy,” he reminds you, now leaning some of his weight on your leg as if to discourage you from moving. “Hold still, yeah?”

“Yeah…sorry—shit.”

He reaches over for the only earring you had available, getting it into position so he can slide it through. “I’ll pick up the correct bar tomorrow,” he decides. “But until then, this should do.”

Once secure, he leans back to admire his work. “There. Easy.”

Venturing a glance, you look down as well, and notice the shiny, gold hoop glinting in the light from your tit. “…huh.”

His eyebrow raises. “What?”

“It’s…pretty,” you admit, cheeks warming some. “I like it.”

He grins, reaching back up to take the ice from your mouth. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You swallow the extra liquid before running your tongue over your lips. “You were right.”

“Always am,” he retorts coolly before he’s bringing the frozen water back to your other breast. “Still doing okay? Need a break?”

“No. It wasn’t so bad.”

“Good.” He hums again, repeating the previous task of running the cube over your skin. “Doing really well, Peach.”

“Thank you. Sir.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “And you behave. How nice.”

“Haven’t I always?”

“Incredibly well,” he concedes, and it does something strange to the butterflies in your gut. “I knew you’d make an excellent business partner.”

“Ha.” You squirm a bit under the cool trailing of ice across your chest. “I think you just like bossing me around.”

“I like watching you obey,” he corrects smugly. “And I like watching you grow more confident with yourself. And with me.”

“Sure, sure. And it has nothing to do with the fact that my pussy was on full display?”

“Oh, was it? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Very funny. Now who’s got jokes?”

“Like I said. I’m a man of many talents.”

Again, he stimulates your breast a bit before smoothing it back and lining the needle up just so.

And again, you keep your focus anywhere else but his hands, instead content to stare at the bridge of his nose as he goes.

It’s quite a nice nose. One that you’d absentmindedly run your finger down. That you’d boop before pressing a kiss to the tip. 

You don’t imagine he’s into that kind of affection, but your mind wonders about him anyhow. You ponder what his behavior might look like with somebody he cares about. Somebody he loves. If he’s just as calculated or if he loosens up a bit. If he shares his darkest secrets and devotes his time to caring for them.

You rarely see him slip. Sometimes he drinks but even when fully inebriated, he’s still the thoughtful man you’ve come to know. Or when he’s tired, or stressed, or aggravated. Everything he does is carefully concise. He doesn’t lose his temper. He doesn’t sulk or throw tantrums. He rarely raises his voice and he’s never one to belittle somebody for a mistake.

A few of the many reasons you admire him.

“There,” he declares, and you blink yourself back to reality only to realize that he’s finished, and the second hoop is in place. “Done.”

He sits up, removing his weight from your legs, and a part of you is sad to feel him go.

Nevertheless, you push up as well, wincing some as the residual ache begins to settle. “Fuck—”

“It’s gonna be sore for a bit,” he tells you, taking the cube of ice from between your teeth and popping what’s left of it into his own mouth. “Take some Aleve and wear loose clothes. Swelling should go down in a bit.”

You watch him stand, eyebrows raised. “Uh…okay. Now what?”

He’s studying you. In that same way he had the other day in his office. Focus solely on your tits as he sucks on the frozen water with a wry smile.

“You look good, Peach,” he says again, and your lashes flutter. “Really good. S’might be my best work yet.”

“Glad to hear it,” you tease before clearing your throat. “So, um…are we…are we done? Is…I’ll just edit the video and we’ll…I’ll see you at work?”

You’re not sure why you feel so…awkward but what else could he possibly expect of you? He’s essentially done what he came to do and now…

Now what?

He chuckles, tucking the ice into his cheek. “Yes, I’ll see you at work,” he agrees before hesitating. “I just wanna do one thing first.”

Shit. “Oh, uh…yeah? What’s…what’s that?”

He turns around and strides back over to your desk, hand outstretching for your Polaroid camera. “Think we need something to remember the occasion by.”

You can feel the way your pulse goes stagnant, a breath catching in your throat. “…yeah?”

“Yeah.” He studies the settings before turning to you. “And it’s something else you can post if you’d like.”

There’s a strange sort of rush between your legs as Mr. Styles steps up to the edge of the bed, Polaroid in hand.

“Is that all right?” he asks, finger poised over the shutter release.

You nod so quickly, your head begins to ache. “Yes. Yeah, that’s…mhm.”

He smiles, and it’s soft. Amused. “Lay back for me, honey.”

You do, resettling into the pillows, careful not to move too much. “Like…this?”

He nods, lifting the camera and hovering it near his chest so he can peek through the viewfinder. “Yeah, just like that. Arch your back.”

You do as instructed, lifting from the bed until your tits are a bit more prominent.

“Good. And let your hands kind of…rest,” he suggests. “Maybe one just above, one just below. It’ll help draw in the attention.”

“Are the bright, gold hoops through my nipples not enough?”

He chuckles. “Having your hands in the frame reminds people of what your hands can do. How they might squeeze, or pinch, or pull. How you’d look playing with them as you squirm and gasp for more.”

Shit, shit, shit. “Oh…right. Smart.”

With shaky arms, you gently lay your palms near your breasts, framing the handiwork as Mr. Styles leans closer.

“There you go,” he murmurs, peering through the camera. “Just like that, Peach. So fucking pretty.”

The flash goes off, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath as the photo slowly begins to slide out with a mechanical whir.

Pleased, Mr. Styles leans back, slipping the image free before placing the Polaroid back on your desk. “Perfect.”

“Good,” you whisper, biting the inside of your lip. “Good, yeah…”

Sensing your hesitancy, he smirks. “You did good, Peach. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Monday. Right.” You clear your throat as you sit up. “Good. Yeah. I’ll…yeah.”

“Yeah,” he echoes playfully before nodding his goodbye and slipping from the room.

Eventually, you hear your apartment door open and shut, leaving you alone yet again.

And left to wonder what the hell just happened.

“Good morning, Mr. Styles.”

Your greeting is met with nothing more than a short, almost unperceivable nod as you make your way into his office, a coffee in one hand and his schedule in the other.

“Morning,” he mumbles, eyes flicking across his computer screen as you approach and place the hot drink on his desk. “You’re late.”

“I am. Sorry.” You take a seat in front of him, notebook landing in your lap. “I, uh…had a weird start to my day.”

He says nothing. Doesn’t even glance over. All he does is offer the raise of his eyebrow, his sign for you to continue. 

So, you do. 

“I posted the, uh…the picture? That you took?” you explain quietly, glancing around the empty room almost as if you expect someone to be listening. “Which was great, by the way. Really nicely done. The framing…and all that.”

He smirks.

“Anyway, and I, um…I got a message,” you continue slowly. “From another creator. On OnlyFans.”

Still, he’s distracted, replying with a nonchalant, “Okay.”

“He…he asked if I wanted to maybe collab,” you tell him. “Do a…short video together. Or something. Maybe…maybe make it a series?”

The rapid typing on his keyboard suddenly stops as his attention drifts to you. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Your fingers strum rhythmically along the notepad. “I’ve seen a couple of his videos before. He’s good. And he’s got an impressive following.”

Mr. Styles blinks, seemingly unfazed. “All right.”

“Yeah, so…” You shift. “Yeah. What do you…what do you think?”

He leans back in his seat, focus now directly on you. “What do I think of what?”

“Of…him. The idea. Collaborating.”

His head cocks. “Are you asking my permission, Peach?”

Are you? “I’m…yes? No? I don’t…I just want to know if you think it’s a good idea.”

He considers this, humming to himself as he places his elbow on the arm rest. “Are you asking me as your boss or as your investor?”

“Uh…the second one?”

“As your investor, I don’t think it can hurt. More exposure means more subscribers. It helps elevate your content and gives them something they haven’t seen from you before.”

“And as my boss?”

“As your boss, I’m legally obligated to direct you to HR.”

You smile, eyes glancing down toward your folded hands. “Right.”

The large office grows quiet.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” he adds, leaning forward. “This is your business. Your body. Your choice. My input is nothing more than mere suggestion. It’s not rule.”

“I know, I just…you’ve been right so far,” you sigh. “As much as I hate to admit it. And I like what we’ve…created. But I’ve never made a video with anybody else before. I mean, not like what he’s suggesting anyhow.”

“Are you opposed to the idea?”

“Honestly? No. He’s nice. We’ve spoken briefly before, and he made sure to let me know we would create a safe environment.”

Mr. Styles nods, considering this. “Are you attracted to him?”

You blink. “I mean…I don’t…I don’t know? He’s…cute. Yeah. Sure.”

“Can he fuck?”

You lean back. “What?”

“Can he fuck?”

“How the hell am I supposed to know?”

“You said you watched his videos. Did it seem like he knew what he was doing?”

“I guess? What does it matter?”

“It matters because if he can’t, you’ll spend the entire scene having to fake your moans, and I don’t think that’s very fair.”

You ponder this. “Okay, well. I’m pretty sure he can.”

“Do you think he’d be worth your time?”

“I don’t…know. I guess? If anything, it gets me out of my comfort zone.”

“All right. Last question.” He leans his weight on the desk and meets your eye. “Do you want to?”

You take a beat before answering. You honestly aren’t sure. You used to think you didn’t want anything, but Mr. Styles changed that for you. And you realized earlier this morning that you don’t think it will ever feel like it did with him. Comfortable, and safe, and…right? 

You don’t understand any of it.

“Yes,” you finally say. “I do. I just…I think I’m nervous.”

“Then take your time to find your nerve,” he suggests. “Get to know him first. Discuss how you’d like the scene to play out. The technicalities, the boundaries, the point.”

You groan a bit as you flop back into your chair. “God, it was so much simpler with you.”

The dark hairs of his eyebrow quirk up. “How so?”

“I don’t know. It just was.” You shrug. “You showed up, you told me what to do…it was nice. I already knew you. Felt comfortable with you. It wasn’t about the camera or the technicalities. It was just about…pleasure.”

He nods. “How it should be.”

“Right. And I liked it. I liked how…normal it felt? In a sense?’ 

He’s amused by this. “Sex only works if you’re comfortable.”

“Agreed. It would be so much easier with you.”

The statement seems to catch you both off guard as you clear your throat and glance at your shoes.

“I mean…you know what I mean,” you mumble, shifting some. “I…yeah. I’ll just…I’ll message him and work something. Great…great talk.”

You feel him watching you. Eyes raking over every inch of your fame before he straightens up.

“Peach,” he calls, pulling your attention back. “Come here.”

Your head tilts. “What?”

“Come,” he repeats, motioning you closer with a jut of his chin.

Confused, you stand, allowing your feet to carry you to his side of the desk as he scoots back to create room.

Once settled before him, he travels his focus up to your face. “How are they?”

“How are…what?”

“The piercings.” 

“Oh.” You both glance toward your chest. “Uh…good? I think? They don’t hurt as much anymore. Still a little tender, though.”

He nods. “Show me.”

Despite the chill that travels straight to your cunt, you swallow. “I’m sorry?”

“Show me,” he repeats. “Let me make sure they’re healing right.”

A ruse if you’ve ever heard one, but you can’t deny the small inkling of intrigue as you reach for the buttons on your blouse.

You pop them free, slow, and deliberately as he watches. The office is quiet but the tension in the air is palpable. 

When you get to the last one, something in his expression shifts.

“Peach…” he begins slowly, almost as if warning you.

Your smile is innocent.

His large hands outstretch for the silky shirt, gingerly pushing it back and down your shoulders until your torso is revealed to him.

The air is cool against your bare chest, your nipples even more prominent now with the delicate jewelry catching the light outside his large window. It sends yet another shiver rippling across your nervous system as you twitch beneath his touch.

He hums. “Think you forgot something,” he muses, steady palms ghosting over your ribcage.

“What? Oh, yeah.” Your voice is nonchalant and blasé. “Well, you said loose fitting clothes. Thought wearing something so…tight would defeat the purpose.”

He’s amused. “So you came into my office with no bra, hm?”

“Seems like I did.”

He begins to pull you closer, legs parting to create the space you need to stand. “And how do they feel?”

You look down at him, heart in your throat. “Uh…like I said, a little tender, but…fine.”

He’s nearly eye level with your tits and his concentration is resilient. “How about when you touch them?”

A breath catches in your lungs. “Um…when I…I haven’t. Really.”

His fingers lift, thumb gently and oh-so delicately stroking under the swell of your breast. “How’s this, hm?”

Your muscles stiffen. “Um…good?”

He looks up. “Is that a question or an answer?”

“An…answer?”

His eyebrows raise.

“An answer,” you repeat, sucking in a quiet inhale. “It’s…fine. It’s good, yeah.”

He nods before you feel him move up. “And this?”

He’s getting closer, hand gently cupping your tit and squeezing it softly. 

Your lashes flutter, knees suddenly going weak. “Good. Fine. Mhm.”

He hums again before the tip of his finger ghosts across the piercing.

You jolt, a soft gasp slipping between your lips as you subconsciously push yourself into his touch.

He smirks. “Good, then?”

“Mhm,” you repeat, nodding quickly as you swallow a whine. “Really…good. Yes. Good.”

He holds you in his hand for only a moment longer…before he’s letting go and scooting back.

“Still sensitive,” he muses. “But that could just be you.”

You force a laugh as you pull your blouse back up and begin redoing the buttons. “Well…what can I say? I’m a peach.”

It’s an awful attempt at a joke but Mr. Styles smiles anyway, nodding for you to return to your seat so you can begin going through his schedule.

The next week carries on as usual. You set up meetings, return emails, and help your boss divvy up his itinerary for the next few months. 

You rarely chat about his…investment. In fact, the topic is hardly broached at all except for when you give him small updates on Max.

Turns out, Max (your future collaborating partner), has been only OnlyFans since it started. He’s got an entire routine and dedicated fanbase and has at least a hundred ideas on what the two of you could explore.

He’s nice, as far as you can tell. Interested in your thoughts and feelings on the matter. Never pushes something you seem to hesitate on. And is willing to wait until you’re ready.

You tell Mr. Styles that you’re meeting Max for coffee this coming Friday, and his reaction is about what you’d expect. A simple, “All right,” before he’s moving on to his next task. 

You can’t help but wonder if he’s losing interest in you. Or in your…business. He doesn’t ask for any details. Doesn’t pry for information. Doesn’t even suggest he check your piercings.

You know this stoic behavior isn’t unusual for him. He’s always been incredibly focused on his work and his real business.

Still, you can’t deny a part of you misses when he devoted some of his attention to you.

No matter how fucked up.

Coffee with Max is good. Better than good. You spend over four hours getting to know each other, planning the scene, and deciding what you’re both comfortable with.

By the time you leave, you’re actually excited. The ideas and positions will be incredibly riveting for the viewers, and you can’t deny that you’re interested in how they might feel.

Mr. Styles offers you nothing more than an understanding nod when you tell him. You explain that you’ll be meeting at a hotel, that you’ve already discussed a safe word, and that you’ll be taking extra precautions to make sure you both feel comfortable.

Secretly, you suppose you’re searching for his approval. For him to tell you that you’ve done a good job. That he’s signing off on this collaboration.

Yet the nod is all you get.

By the end of the workday, you’ve lost some of your spark for the impending video. You’re not sure why. Maybe you’re sulking. Maybe you gave Mr. Styles more credit than he deserved. Maybe you’re just crazy.

Either way, it strikes your boss as odd.

“Peach,” he calls, and hearing him use your pseudonym makes your heart leap. “What’s going on?”

You look up from the sofa, ripping your eyes away from your laptop. “What?”

He nods at you. “You’re distracted.”

“I’m…working?”

“Exactly. It’s weird.”

You snort. “Sorry, I’m just…I’m thinking.”

“About?”

“About…” You hesitate before your head shakes. “Nothing, forget it. I’m fine. Did you get the email from Lance?”

“I did. Are you going to answer my question?”

“Only if it’s a question about the email.”

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip. “Fine. When forwarding me the email, were you thinking about this Matthew fellow?”

Despite yourself, you smile. “Max. And that’s cheating.”

“It’s not cheating. It’s rearranging the rules.”

“Oh, is that what it is?”

“Yes. Were you?”

You lean back against the cushions with a sigh. “Kind of? I don’t know. I feel like maybe it’s a bad idea.”

He mirrors your stance, allowing himself to settle into his seat. “Why is that?”

“Because…I’ve just…I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“You didn’t seem to think so earlier.”

“Yeah, well…I changed my mind.”

“Why?”

“Why?  

“Yes, why?”

You shut the laptop and toss it onto the couch beside you. “It’s stupid.”

“Probably but tell me anyway.”

You throw him a playful glare. “It’s because of you, actually.”

“Me,” he repeats. 

“Yes, you. Okay, I keep…I keep thinking about how easy it was with you, and how we’ve kind of…found a way to be cool about all this,” you explain with a frustrated exhale. “Right, and then with this…something just feels…off. You know, you’re really quiet about it. Haven’t really said much, and I don’t know. Maybe I just…wanted you to be okay with it.”

He takes a moment to mull over his answer. “I told you, this is your choice. My opinions don’t matter—”

“Yeah, except that they do,” you argue. “I don’t know why but everything you’ve suggested so far has worked. So you being so uninterested in this thing with Max makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“You can’t do anything wrong,” he says calmly. “It’s your body. Your content—”

“Yes, I know. I just…I want…god, I want…”

Silence stretches between you as Mr. Styles tilts his head. “You want what, Peach? You want…my permission? My approval?”

Do you? “I don’t…I don’t know. Maybe?”

He considers this before nodding once and lifting his hand, fingers beckoning you closer.

You sit up, tossing a curious glance his way.

However, when you don’t move, his expression grows stern. “Thought you knew how to behave.”

You sigh to yourself and stand, legs carrying you back to his side of the desk for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Take off your shirt,” he instructs, and you feel a weird rush of déjà vu. 

But you obey, nonetheless, lifting the satin hem and pulling it over your head as he reaches into one of his drawers.

When his hand retreats, you see something shiny in his palm, and your breath hitches.

He’s grinning as he nods for you to sit on the table, rather entertained by your flabbergasted response. “Take them out.”

Once your ass is settled, you gently pull the lace of your bralette down, revealing your chest to his gaze yet again.

He smirks before standing as well, fingers uncurling.

Inside his fist are two nipple rings in the shapes of perfectly plump peaches.

And monogrammed on each one? An initial.

H. S.

Your lashes flutter.

“Would you like my honesty?” he begins as he brings them closer, sneaking a glimpse of your face in search of permission.

You nod quickly.

He reaches for the piercing already in place and gently starts to remove it. “I like what we’ve created, too. Perhaps more than I should.”

Your pulse stutters.

“And I like that you take my advice. Like that you’re more confident in yourself,” he continues, the rough pad of his thumb brushing over your nipple until your eyes nearly roll back. “That you feel more relaxed in your own body.”

Your hands grasp onto the edge of his desk, steadying yourself just before you can keel over.

He carries on, voice calm and deep. Like melted butter. “I like the way you react to me,” he murmurs. “The way you hold your breath. The way you squirm. Or the way you beg me for more with just a look.”

The peachy H is slipped through your right nipple with great care as you glance down.

“What you choose to do and who you choose to do it with is your decision.” He moves to the left. “That will never be up for debate.”

His palm cups the underside of your tit as you mewl a bit and shift in his touch.

He pretends not to notice. “So, you will make this video. You’ll do what I taught you. You’ll make it worth it.”

With a final pinch, the last ring is locked into place. 

He leans closer, both hands now softly taking hold of your tits until his thumbs can brush over the new jewelry.

“And I will be…right here,” he whispers, eyes falling to his initials that glitter across your chest. Almost as if claiming you. “So while he’s fucking you…you think of me.”

His touch constricts, squeezing you subtly as you gasp.

“Whenever he touches you…whenever he looks at you…” His head dips until he’s so close, you can feel his breath fan across your cheek. “…you think of me.”

You whimper, legs squeezing together. “Harry—”

“Uh-uh.” He tugs on you, expression hardening as his voice deepens. “Not here.”

“Sir,” you correct, and he nods. “I’m wearing your name, and I can’t even use it?”

“This isn’t for you,” he corrects, the tip of his nose momentarily brushing against yours. “This is for him. So he knows who you’re really in business with.”

Your hand moves to his arm, squeezing the bicep beneath his nice jacket as you swallow thickly. “So, this is just part of your investment, then?”

He’s quiet, a minute passing between you as the office fills with the sound of his clock ticking the time away.

“Yes,” he says, nodding once but the cadence is thick. Labored. “You said it would be easier if I were there. So, now I will be.”

“That’s not quite what I meant,” you breathe, lashes fluttering at the prospect of his lips being so dangerously close. “But I appreciate the gesture.”

“Then what did you mean, Peach?” His hands move to your hips, squeezing onto your skin as if to cement you to your spot. “Hm? What do you really want from me?”

You’ve asked yourself this very question more times than you can count.

“I…” Your fingers curl into his arm. “I want whatever you’ll give me.”

Everything whittles down to right now as he debates your proposition, and you can see the intrigue in his eye.

Then he pulls back, releasing you from his hold as you nearly wilt.

“Then I’ll give you my blessing. If that’s what you need,” he says with an air of professionalism. “Do what you need to do.”

Not exactly the answer you were looking for.

With a hint of disappointment, you nod mutely, grabbing your shirt and slipping it back on as he returns to his seat, and you return to the sofa. 

“Peach Valentine,” Max greets, smile wide as he swings open the hotel door. “Right on time.”

“What can I say? Punctuality is sexy,” you tease, slipping inside and tossing your things onto the dresser. “So…this is it, huh?”

Max nods as he looks around the large hotel room, arms crossing over his chest. “Yeah. I’ve used it before. People seem to like it. The bedding is silk which looks nice on camera. And something about a hotel room makes people think of...taboo cheating scandals? I don’t know, it’s weird, but…they like it.”

You hum your understanding and step closer, taking note of all his equipment. “Oh, shit. You’ve got…you’ve got everything.”

He laughs. “Well, it’s what they’re paying me for.”

“Touché.” Shaky fingers lift toward your coat. “So, um…how do you wanna…where should we start?”

“I wanna go over some ground rules,” he begins, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “Things we’re comfortable with, what we want to avoid, what the limits are.”

Nodding, you lean back against the large desk. “That’s fair.”

“All right, first…what are your thoughts on kis—”

There’s a knock on the door.

The sharp rapping pulls you both from the conversation as you look toward the front of the room, eyebrows raised.

“Are you…expecting anyone?” you ask hesitantly as Max’s lips turn down into a frown.

“No?” He stands from the bed and makes his way for the door. “Maybe it’s room service? I ordered some water and champagne just in case we needed an extra kick.”

“Sure, sure…”

He peers out of the peephole before swinging the door open just wide enough that it allows you to see who’s on the other side.

And your heart just about drops to your ass.

Mr. Styles.

Standing in the hallway, hands in his pockets, expression smug, and suit freshly pressed.

Max clears his throat. “Hey, man. Can I help you?”

Mr. Styles looks to you, mouth curling up into a rather devious grin. “I’m here for Peach Valentine.”

Max turns, seemingly curious. “Oh, uh…I didn’t know you were bringing someone.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, straightening up as both men make their way into the room. “Is there…a problem?”

“Not at all,” Mr. Styles replies calmly. “Just figured you might like my advice.”

Now you understand his game, and the blood drains from your face as Max quickly looks between you. “Oh, all right. And you are…?”

Mr. Styles smirks.

“The investor.”

Don't be mad, I swear there will be smut and action and angst in the next part!!! I SWEAR IT!!

Next Part:

~ Four to Go*

Previous Part:

~ Two for the Show*

~ One for the Money Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Credit for the incredible and perfectly peachy dividers to @firefly-graphics!!

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @kathb59 @iamjustaholeforyousir @buckyssbestgirl @harrystylesfan2686 @cherryluvhobi @indierockgirrl @narry-heart @daphnesutton @uniquesexything @amateurduck @ilovec0lbybr0ck @winterrays @milfrrynation @definegirlfriendsx @allthelovehes @amiets2 @likeapplejuicenpeach

[tommykinard]

Hello! Just popped into say your gifsets are soooo stunning!! Thank you so much for making them!! 💕 I was also wondering if you have any resources/tips for text layouts. I feel like the text on my gifs never goes together well, but I absolutely adore the way it does in your gifsets. Appreciate your efforts!

Hi hi! This is so sweet omg thank you for the kind words 🥺💖 I'll try to articulate everything as best as I can but to be completely honest a lot of what goes on in my head when planning out typography is just ~vibes~. Putting some tips and resources under the cut because this got long oops (and has a lot of examples)!

Some tricks I use often:

Pick 2-3 fonts per gif: 1 simple small font (either serif or sans serif, but I usually lean towards sans serif), 1 decorative/fancy font, +bonus: 1 more decorative/fancy font

Here are some gifs I did using 2 fonts (with a sans serif small font on the left, and a serif small font on the right

And here are some gifs using 3 fonts. Whenever I use 2 decorative fonts in the same gif I usually make one of them a cursive font to contrast the blockier font

2. Figure out which words to emphasize: I usually use song lyrics as the text, so it's easy for me to place emphasis on words that the singer/instrumentals emphasize, but this also works for poetry/other types of writing. The important part is realizing that you can only have a few emphasized words/phrases per gif, so sometimes a lot of your text is gonna be in your "simpler" font, like I did in this gif

3. Using multiple decorative fonts per gifset: So one thing I enjoy doing is matching fonts to the ~vibe~ of each lyric, like I've done here, here, and here for example. I still use the rule of 2-3 fonts per gif, and the common thread between each of the gifs are my small font and my layer styles on the decorative fonts. It's honestly just a lot of trial and error until I end up with something I'm happy with.

4. Using the words to guide the layout: I've never been original a day in my life so here are some examples of what I mean

Left: Lyrics say "reverse" and "symmetry" so I make the typography reversed and symmetrical

Middle: Lyrics talk about dominoes so I try to make the text look like falling dominoes (inside a clock because the lyrics talk about... clockwork)

Right: Lyrics talk about a labyrinth so I make the text look like a maze path, and so on. Like I said, not original lol

5. Play around with font size, text warping, rotation, and glyphs: So this gifset used only a single font throughout, but I played around with both the font sizing and text warping to not make it feel monotone

When you use the text tool on Photoshop to type out your text, text warping can be accessed by clicking this icon on the top toolbar

Making sure you have your desired text highlighted, you can play around with the style, horizontal/vertical warp, and the values to your liking. I usually go for flag, wave, rise, or twist, but you can use any of them to get your desired effect.

Here are some more examples of where I used different warp styles

You can also use command + t (or ctrl + t) to rotate your text and place it at an angle (make sure you're not on the text tool)

You can also get cool alternate versions of letters when you go to the glyphs tab on photoshop (go to window > glyphs, and make sure it's checked, and you should see the tab in your photoshop workspace). This is how I got the cool loops on the letters in this gifset which also guided how I placed the small text.

6. Use shapes to make your small font more interesting: You can put rectangles or ripped paper shapes with layer styles on them behind your text to make the words stand out without having to user your decorative fonts, like I did here

7. Fit your text together like lego blocks (+ overlap text): One of the biggest things for me is finding spaces within the text where other text can fit. I usually do this by laying out my decorative fonts first, and then seeing where my small font can fit within it. So below are some examples of layouts I've done with the red circles showing potential places for text to go, and this was after I figured out my decorative text layouts.

The tails of letters like "y", "g", "p", and "q" are good for guiding layouts, as well as the tall points of letters like "l", "t", "h", "b", and "d". Sometimes you'll have to apply the slightest warp/angle/change the font size by 1 pt to make the text fit nicely. Also don't be afraid to let your text overlap a little! I especially like doing this when I have a delicate font and a blockier font, like I did here

Also make sure you have your different phrases on different text layers! Sometimes each word will need to be on a different text layer if that's how your layout goes, but doing this will help you move the different pieces around until you're happy with it (just like legos!)

6. Get inspired outside of tumblr: People are paid to make album art, lyric videos, posters, etc. Use these things as inspiration!

This gifset mimicked the back cover art of Taylor's Swift's ttpd album

This gifset used Noah Kahan's stick season album title layout

And this uses Big Time Rush's lyric video as inspiration

Some other resources:

Get inspired by other gifmakers and their layouts! Some that come to mind are @eddiediaaz @cal-kestis and @nataliescatorccio, and @usergif is also a great place to find amazing gifmakers who do cool typography

@usergif also has typography resources, font recs, and font pairing guides which are super useful

There are some typography layout guidelines floating around tumblr, here's one that I have saved and is a good way to start thinking of typography layouts, and here's a follow up to that

This got super long and may be more than what you wanted anon but I hope this all helps!

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Pumpkin carving 🎃

Lucy Bronze x reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

summary :

With Halloween coming soon, Lucy and you decided to crave some pumpkins. Which turns into a friendly competition.

The soft glow of the apartment's string lights reflected off the windows, casting a cozy warmth around the living room as you and Lucy sat on the floor, pumpkins and carving tools spread out between you. The scent of a cinnamon-scented candle filled the space, and a playlist of autumn-themed music played in the background.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got,” Lucy said, rolling up the sleeves of her hoodie as she eyed the pumpkin in front of her. She had this playful competitive streak, even when it came to something as simple as pumpkin carving.

You smirked, grabbing your own carving tool. “You always get so serious about this kind of stuff. It’s just for fun, you know?”

Lucy raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Fun? Oh, it’s fun, but I also intend to win.”

“Win?” you laughed, your hand already covered in pumpkin guts as you scooped out the insides. “There’s no competition. Mine’s going to be better, and that’s just a fact.”

Lucy chuckled and shook her head, digging into her own pumpkin with the precision and focus she had on the pitch. The sight of her being so intense about something as simple as carving pumpkins made your heart swell with affection. She had this way of taking every little thing seriously, like she wanted to give everything her best shot, no matter how small.

You both fell into a comfortable rhythm, the sound of spoons scraping out seeds filling the space. Occasionally, Lucy would glance over at your pumpkin, trying to get a peek at your design, but you made sure to keep it hidden.

“No spoilers,” you teased, drawing a rough sketch of your design with a marker on the pumpkin’s surface.

“Okay, fine,” she said, laughing softly. “But don’t be mad when mine looks like a masterpiece, and yours looks like a mess.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” you replied, your grin widening as you started making the first cuts.

As you carved, Lucy kept sneaking glances your way, and you couldn’t help but notice how relaxed she looked. There was something so peaceful about these moments, just the two of you in your little bubble, away from the craziness of everyday life.

When you were finally done, you both stood back to admire your pumpkins. Lucy’s, unsurprisingly, was perfect—a classic jack-o-lantern with sharp, even lines and a face that looked like it could belong on the front page of a fall magazine. Yours, on the other hand, had a more whimsical feel: one eye bigger than the other, and a crooked grin that made it look adorably mischievous.

Lucy put her hands on her hips, examining your creation with a smirk. “I don’t know, it has... character,” she said, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Character? It’s a work of art, thank you very much,” you shot back, proud of your quirky pumpkin.

Lucy stepped closer, wrapping her arms around your waist and pulling you in for a hug. “Okay, fine. I’ll admit it. Yours is… unique,” she said, resting her chin on your shoulder as the two of you admired the pumpkins, now glowing with candles inside.

“It’s the best,” you corrected, leaning into her warmth.

Lucy chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Okay, okay. Yours is the best.”

The two of you stood there for a moment, wrapped up in each other, the soft flicker of candlelight dancing across the room. It was these little moments, simple and sweet, that reminded you just how perfect it was to be with her—whether it was on a fun night like this, or even when she was halfway across the world for a match.

[saradika]

—HOW TO USE CANVA TO MAKE MOODBOARDS

I got a kind message asking how I make moodboards in Canva, so I wanted to do a little tutorial! Canva is a free graphic design app/website, and I use it for everything.

To start - open the app/page and use the search bar at the top to search for a template. I usually use: photo collage, scrapbook, aesthetic moodboard - all of these will pull up pre-made templates for you to use.

[I have a couple linked below that I’ve used and liked, or have bookmarked to try:]

one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight

Anything with a crown is for Canva Pro members - you used to be able to use the templates as a free member (just not the paid assets) but that changed recently. The linked templates above are all free ones that you can use right away.

PHOTOS:

Once you’re in the template, you can press the + in the bottom corner to bring up the menus. The Elements tab have items you can add in (more on that later) - for now you want to go to Uploads, and add the photos you want to use. I mostly get mine from Pinterest and Google Images.

[If you are writing an x reader fic and are looking for tips for creating an inclusive moodboard, there are some awesome resources here: one | two !]

After that, go back to your template and click on the different photo frames, and use the Replace button in the toolbar - it will let you replace the template photos with your own. Double tap to move and resize your image within the frame, (and there are also filters you can use if you want!)

When working on moodboards, I like to move things around. You can replace the frames they use by clicking on the item and then clicking the Trashcan. Then go back to the + menu, and then Elements, and scroll down to Frames. You can scroll through them all, but my fave keywords to use in the search bar is: polaroid, torn, and ripped.

Once they’re added, you can move them wherever you want. There’s a button on the toolbar that says Position, and you can shift the object forward/back between the items around it.

DETAILS:

Once you add your photos, then comes the details! You can change the background color and add/change the fonts (or upload your fave font to use!) Try out all the tools on the toolbar to see what you can do, there’s a lot of options.

I love love layering with my moodboard, so I will go back to the + / Elements tab, and then search for things to layer in. My fave searches for Graphics recently are: ripped paper, grunge patterns (to use in the background), star patterns, dried flowers, and dried leaves.

You can use the Position tool on them to fit them in-between or in front of your photos. I usually use them to hide harsh edges or in places that look a little empty.

I also like adding fabric texture to the backgrounds, to fill the space between the photo frames. There isn’t an easy way to do this - the best way I figured out is to find an image of the texture you want, and then to add a photo frame with a torn or jagged edge in the very back (and then use your new texture there). You can duplicate and move it, to cover the space (you can see some examples below - the beige flower pattern in the Din one, the black velvet for Alfred).

Here are some examples of the original templates, and then what my finished ones look like. You can see what I swapped out, moved, and added:

original image | my moodboard

EDITING:

Once I am happy with the design I download it, and then edit. I love this part - pop it into your fave editing app, and play around with the exposure/contrast/hues/sharpness. I will mess with the color balance & vibrancy as well - this can really take a moodboard I like, to one I love.

Here’s some gifs I made showing before /after editing - both are pretty before but I think the after has an oomph that I really appreciate.

[When you finish with one and want to use the same template, you can click Make a Copy, and it will duplicate it. I began with templates but everything I do now are copies of heavily/edited templates or ones I’ve made from scratch. But for starting off, I think a template is the way to go!]

And that’s it!! I would really suggest just opening it up and seeing what you can do. Not all of mine turn out great, but each time I think I get a better handle on all the different options and what my moodboard style is.

I really hope this helps! And feel free to tag me if you post any you make, I’d love to see them (or drop me an ask if you have any questions!) 💖💕

[mrs-bucky-barnes106]

☆｡.:*･ﾟ Sweet Nothings ｡.:*･ﾟ☆

pairing: tfatws!bucky x baker!reader

warning: fluff, multiple mentions of cake, mentions of Bucky with children

a/n: Ahhh I had this idea before going to bed and literally stayed up two hours working on it. I finished it this morning, and I've gotta stay I'm proud of my commitment because I usually take at least a month to finish a fanfiction. Hopefully, there's more where this came from. P.S. I'm not a baker, so I'm sorry if I fudged any details. Feedback is always appreciated but please be kind. Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated but no reposting without credit <3

word count: 1.6k

summary: Reader is a baker and Bucky gets a cake from her to take to Sam's picnic party on the docks (scene from tfatws).

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

The bell jingled as Bucky entered Sweet Nothings, the bakery you had started from the ground up. He was instantly enveloped by the sweet scent of baked goods from the array of desserts neatly displayed in the glass case by the counter. Underneath the sugar, he smelled the new chai latte you had just added to the menu. It had been an instant hit, totally trumping the one at Starbucks that everyone raved about. Chai had been a nostalgic drink for you and a completely new one for Bucky. He now had an affinity for it, however, and asked for it every time he entered the shop after you made him the first honorary taste tester of the drink. Now, the shop was bustling since it was happy hour.

Soft music played in the background. Bucky recognized the voice of Taylor Swift, one of your favorite artists. She was one of Bucky's favorites now too. You had impeccable taste, and any song you loved became his favorite. The album that was currently playing was Midnights, the one you had told Bucky he was most like. He loved that about you, how you would associate things like albums and songs with him. It made his heart swell, knowing you thought about him in relation to music, which had a special place in your heart.

You were nowhere in sight, so he assumed you were in the back checking on your bread dough. Bucky approached the barrier that led to the backroom for employees and pushed the door open, hoping to surprise you while you were working. Once he entered, he found you bent over your proving drawer, checking on a fluffy batch of bread dough. He tiptoed up to you and grabbed your waist, lifting you off your feet and causing you to let out a yelp of surprise. Bucky spun you around, chuckling at your reaction (what did he expect when he literally attacked you with a bear hug from behind?).

Finally, he set you down on your feet and spun you around to face him. His eyes were crinkled with laugh lines as he took in your disheveled form. Your hair was in a low messy bun with a few strands astray in the front. You donned a cream-colored beret and a blue long-sleeve over which you had on your cheeky apron that read "Kiss the Cook." It was, of course, gifted to you by none other than your doting boyfriend. A light dusting of flour over your entire being gave you an angelic glow. In Bucky's eyes, you looked more heavenly than all of the desserts in your shop combined.

You blew your hair out of your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest before attempting to glare at Bucky. You didn't last long, however, as his sheepish grin caused you to look down, so he wouldn’t catch you smiling.

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me,” you admonished him half-heartedly. “Bakers can be dangerous when startled, you know.”

“Sure, doll,” Bucky still had on that cheeky grin. “I don’t know about dangerous, though. Former assassin here, remember?” He pointed at himself with his index fingers as if you didn't already know. "I think I can handle a blow from a rolling pin." He picked up the nearest tool his hand landed on, which, unfortunately for him, was a basting brush, making his joke fall flat. He sheepishly put the brush away as you tried not to laugh.

You gave him a warning look before turning your back to him and smiling wide. You may pretend to be annoyed by his antics, but they truly brought joy to your heart and brightened up your bland days. You loved your job, but you loved your man most of all.

“I’ve got the cake ready for Sam’s. Just gotta put the finishing touches on it. Did you bring the Oreos, baby boy?”

You turned around to find his face in yours. Had it been anyone else, you would’ve found it incredibly infuriating. But with Bucky, it left you blushing to your core.

He wrapped his arms around you and held up the blue plastic box. “Right here, sweetheart.”

It was a generic nickname that every single boyfriend in the history of the world had called his girlfriend at some point. But somehow, it was almost erotic coming from his plush pink lips with that deep timbre. You sometimes wondered if Bucky knew the effect he had on you.

“Thank you,” was all you trusted yourself to say as you took the box of cookies from him and started peeling off the plastic cover. You moved away from him and carefully placed six cookies on the cake, one on each of the iced rosettes on the border.

“Alright, Buck, I think it’s ready for the party. Lemme just get a box for it, and we’ll be on our way.”

Bucky smiled as he watched you tenderly place the plastic casing on the cake as if it was your baby. In a way, it was, along with all of your other creations.

“Alrighty then, doll,” Bucky grabbed the cake in his gloved flesh hand, then put his metal arm around your shoulders, pulling you in to plant a kiss on your temple. “Thank you so much for making this, baby cakes.”

You turned pink hearing him use your favorite nickname of all time. “Oh, it’s nothing,” you mumbled bashfully, suddenly shy again in the crook of his arm.

“It’s a Sweet Nothing, which means it’s the opposite of nothing. Doll, this cake is quite literally everything to me.”

“Buckyyy,” you playfully swatted him away. Sure, you were proud of your work, but you still got flustered when people complimented you, especially your boyfriend, who took every chance to make you feel like you were the biggest star in his world.

You eased yourself out of his embrace momentarily to hunt down your assistant. “Lemme just tell Nico to take over the closing shift tonight.”

Bucky nodded and waited patiently by the door for you to rejoin him. You returned and looped your arm around his waist to steer him out of your shop.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky drove the both of you from the bakery to the docks in his pickup. You held the cake securely in your lap with your right hand and entwined your left with Bucky's. When you arrived, you let go of his hand and moved to open the door, but Bucky reached over you to close it again. Then he climbed out of the truck and rushed to open your door.

"M'lady," you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't help smiling as he took the cake from you so you could climb out of the car. He shut your door behind you, then took off with the cake balanced precariously in his flesh hand.

"Bucky! Be careful!" Your cries were drowned out by Sam's nephews, who were happily trailing Bucky at the sight of the cake. They tried play-fighting with him, pretending to punch him in the face, to which Bucky pretended to stagger backward from the force of impact.

You sighed and let the corners of your mouth lift as you watched your lover boy, totally enamored by his way with children.

Bucky ran to the nearest picnic table and finally placed the cake down safely. You let out a breath of relief you didn't realize you had been holding in and walked over to him.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

Bucky returned to entertaining the kids a little while after everyone had eaten. He stood atop a picnic table, talking to you and Sarah with his metal arm extended out. Sam's nephew and his friend hung off of Bucky's arm. You were trying your hardest to concentrate on what he told you about his days in the Navy, but you couldn't help giggling softly at the sight of him effortlessly holding up two children using only one of his arms.

When you could finally steal a moment alone with him, you handed him a beer and tugged his arm to lead him to the pier's edge. You plopped down and let your feet dangle, the bottoms of your boots grazing the water's surface. After a moment, Bucky crouched down to join you. He scooted closer so his thigh was pressed up against yours. He put his arm around you, and you sighed softly, leaning into his shoulder and staring at the setting sun. Nose pressed against Bucky's shoulder, you inhaled, reveling in the warm scent of freshly-cut pine and the sweet undertones of amber and musky vanilla.

You leaned up to wrap your arms around his shoulder, suddenly needing to be closer to him than you already were. He seemed to understand and gently twisted to the side, snaking one arm around your lower back and using the other to bring your legs into his lap. You moved in to kiss him tenderly. Your hands were in his hair, his hands were on your hips, and everything felt perfect at that moment. You could still taste the Oreo cake on his breath, and you broke away from the kiss slowly, smiling all the while. Bucky returned your smile warmly as you turned to look at the sunset.

Bucky watched it paint your face the most gorgeous shade of pink and thanked his lucky stars at that moment. Somehow, life had brought you to him. He had never thought of himself as fortunate, but he was ecstatic now that you were in his arms, and he damn sure was never going to let go of this beautiful thing he had with you. He pressed his lips to your forehead and tightened his hold on you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

☆｡.:*･ﾟ

[rootedinrevisions]

In the Wings: Part 5

SUMMARY: A casual day on set takes an unexpected turn when Glen brings his parents to the hair and makeup trailer. As you bond with them over shared interests and playful conversation, Glen watches with a fond smile, clearly pleased with how well you're getting along. Later, when Glen invites you to join them for lunch, the conversation flows easily, but Glen can’t escape a few embarrassing childhood stories his parents share.

OTHER PARTS: PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4

WARNINGS: None. Just Fluff in this one!

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

You step into the hair and makeup trailer, the familiar scent of hairspray and cosmetic products already filling the air. It’s early, but the trailer is quiet, the rest of the team having not arrived yet for the day. You move about the space, setting out your tools and products in preparation for Glen’s arrival. He’s due any minute, and though it’s become routine by now, there’s always a flutter of anticipation when you know he’s on his way. 

You glance in the mirror, making sure everything is in place, when you hear the door open behind you. But as you turn, ready to greet Glen, you notice he’s not alone. His warm smile spreads as he steps inside, flanked by two familiar faces—his parents, Cyndy and Glen Sr., visiting him on set.

"Hey, hope you don’t mind," Glen says with a grin, motioning toward them. "Thought I’d bring some backup today."

“Not at all,” you smile as you look past him to see where his parents are. Their presence catches you slightly off guard, though not necessarily in a bad way.

He introduces you with a smile. "Mom, Dad, this is the makeup artist I’ve been telling you about," Glen says, gesturing to you.

His mom, Cyndy, smiles warmly as she steps forward. "It’s so nice to finally meet you. Glen has mentioned how great you are."

You exchange greetings, shaking her hand. Glen Sr. gives you a polite nod and a friendly, "Nice to meet you," before sitting on the nearby couch.

As you start prepping Glen's hair, Cyndy sits down nearby and strikes up a conversation. "So, how do you keep up with all these actors? I imagine you’re running around all day trying to keep them camera-ready," she says, laughing lightly.

You smile, nodding as you work through Glen's hair. "Yeah, it can get a little crazy, especially when the weather isn’t cooperating. But, I’ve been doing this long enough that I can manage a few stubborn heads of hair."

Cyndy chuckles and nods. "You sound just like me trying to wrangle Glen’s hair when he was younger. He had the curliest hair when he was younger. Honestly, his curls were a challenge. I learned so much about products just trying to keep it from looking like a bird’s nest!"

You can’t help but laugh, glancing at Glen through the mirror as you apply a little styling cream to his hair. 

"I can imagine. He does have a head of hair that keeps me busy," you say, playfully teasing.

Glen raises an eyebrow in mock offense. "Hey, I thought we were on the same team here," he says with a grin.

His mom rolls her eyes affectionately, clearly used to this kind of banter. "He’s always been fussy about his hair," she says, leaning closer to you. "You know, he used to let his sisters test makeup and skincare products on him.”

Glen Sr., who has been quietly observing, throws in a comment. "Yeah, Glen's always been particular about how he looks—don’t let him fool you. I’ve never seen anyone take so long to get ready for prom. He was taking this really cute girl he liked and he must have fixed his hair twenty times before she showed up."

Glen groans in mock embarrassment while you laugh with Cyndy and Glen Sr. It’s so easy and natural, and you start to feel completely at ease around his parents. The friendly dynamic between them makes it feel as though you’ve known them much longer than a few minutes. As you finish up Glen’s hair and makeup, you catch a glimpse of him in the mirror, watching the exchange with a soft smile.

"Alright, I think you’re good to go," you say, stepping back to inspect your work.

Glen stands and turns to his mom. "What do you think?" he asks, gesturing to his styled hair.

Cyndy nods approvingly. "I think you’re in good hands."

He meets your eyes for a moment, and there’s something unspoken but meaningful in the look he gives you. 

"I think so too," he says softly.

As Glen and his parents make their way out, Cyndy pauses by the door, turning back to you. "It was really nice talking to you. Hopefully, we’ll see you again before we leave."

You smile, feeling something like a mix of warmth and nervousness swirl in your chest. "It was great meeting you both."

As they head out and the door closes behind them, you feel the weight of what just happened start to sink in. Glen’s parents. Not just a casual meeting—but a glimpse into the world of someone who’s beginning to feel a lot more significant to you.

A few hours pass, and you move through the rest of the morning on set with a steady pace, trying not to think too much about your earlier interaction with Glen and his parents. 

By the time lunch rolls around, you’re back in the trailer, scrolling through the DoorDash app, absentmindedly debating between a sandwich or sushi when your phone buzzes with a text.

Glen: "Hey, do you want to join me and my parents for lunch? We’re heading to this restaurant a few minutes away."

You stare at the message for a moment, feeling a slight flutter in your stomach. Lunch with Glen and his parents? It seems casual enough, but something about the invitation feels… different. After a brief pause, you type back a reply.

You: "Sure, sounds fun. Where should I meet you?"

A few minutes later, you're on your way to the restaurant, mentally preparing yourself to be around Glen’s parents again. 

When you walk into the restaurant, you’re met with warm smiles from both Cyndy and Glen Sr. as you approach the table. Glen stands and gives you a small, friendly hug before he pulls out a chair for you, the gesture making you feel even more welcome.

The restaurant itself is laid-back, the kind of place that feels homey and easy, with rustic wood tables and simple decor. As you sit down, the conversation picks up naturally. Glen’s parents are charming, easy to talk to, and it quickly feels less like a formal lunch and more like spending time with friends you’ve known for years.

The conversation is peppered with casual jokes and stories, and soon enough, Glen becomes the focus of a few playful teases.

"So," his dad starts with a knowing grin, "did Glen ever tell you about the time he got stuck trying to climb out of his bedroom window?"

You turn to Glen, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, but he groans, shaking his head with a chuckle. "Dad. Please don't," he says, though you can tell he’s being a good sport about it.

His mom, clearly delighted, jumps in. "He thought it’d be a good idea to sneak out to see a girl when he was sixteen. Climbed out the window but got his foot caught in the gutter. I’ve never heard someone yell 'Mom!' so loud in my life!"

You can’t help but burst into laughter, and Glen, though slightly embarrassed, can’t help but laugh along with everyone else. 

"I was young and stupid," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck, but there’s a good-natured smile on his face.

Throughout the lunch, you notice little things—how Glen keeps glancing your way when his parents speak to you, as if trying to gauge how you're feeling, or how his hand brushes yours briefly as he passes you the salt. The atmosphere is light and comfortable, yet there's something deeper simmering beneath the surface. It’s the way Glen is with you—always aware of your presence, always making sure you're included.

At one point, his mom turns the conversation toward you. "So, how are you liking it on set? It must be exciting, working on a film like this."

You smile, taking a sip of your water before responding. "It’s been a lot of fun. There’s definitely a lot of running around, but the whole cast and crew have been really great. It doesn’t really feel like work most days."

"I’m glad to hear that," Cyndy says warmly, then leans in slightly, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Glen’s been talking about you a lot, you know. Telling us all about how talented you are."

You glance at Glen, who immediately groans and rubs a hand over his face. "Mom, seriously?" he mutters, clearly embarrassed.

But you find it kind of adorable, the idea that Glen has been talking about you to his parents. You meet his eyes, and there’s a shared moment of understanding—something unspoken yet clear in the way his gaze softens when he looks at you.

You smile, giving Cyndy a grateful look. "Well, I’m flattered."

As lunch wraps up and the four of you head back to set, the dynamic between you and Glen seems to have subtly shifted. There’s more ease, more awareness of each other. Glen walks beside you, his arm brushing against yours as you both chat quietly about the upcoming scenes for the day.

While Glen’s parents walk ahead, you catch him glancing over at you a few times, something tender in his expression, as if he’s just starting to realize something. Maybe it’s the way you got along so well with his mom, or how effortlessly you fit into this part of his life that he usually keeps separate from work. Whatever it is, the thought lingers in his mind, settling deep as he realizes that this—whatever it is between you two—is becoming more important to him.

The conversation between you and Glen is light, but the feeling of something growing between you is undeniable. And as you part ways to get back to work, there’s a weight to the goodbye—a lingering thought that perhaps this connection is becoming more than just casual, more than just friendly. Glen’s smile lingers a little longer, his gaze a little softer, as he watches you walk away.

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi❤️ive been following you since you were writing about jude bellingham lol 😂 i wanted to ask you if you could make a damian priest x reader story where reader is plus sized and she’s struggling with losing weight and she wants to be perfect for damian because she sees the type of women he’s surrounded by but reader hurts herself like she faints or something happens and damian (rhea too if you want include her) get worried for her, please make it angsty i love your angst stories 😭❤️ thank you for this ❤️❤️

thanks for your request! i’ve been struggling with ED my whole life so this piece is kind of a piece of me. if you ever need someone to talk to i’m here ❤️ just to remind you that you are beautiful the way you are, you deserve all the love and happiness in the world ❤️

damian priest x curvy - plus sized - chubby reader

likes comments and reblogs are always appreciated!!

‼️ANGST, heavy angst, ED (eating disorders), reader starving herself, fainting, self conscious reader, hurt/comfort, DON’T READ THIS IF IT’S A SENSITIVE TOPIC FOR YOU ‼️

be skinny

be skinny - your mind told you.

don’t eat this, you’re gonna gain weight - it kept whispering.

you couldn’t recall when all of this started. sure, you’ve always had a love and hate relationship with your body, with your appearance but it never got to the point where you constantly checked yourself in every mirror you could find. it never got to the point where you would weight yourself every morning to see if you magically lost weight over night.

damian made all of those feelings go away. at the beginning of your relationship you told him how uncomfortable you were being naked in front of him, fearing that he might have judged you for how you looked but he never failed to make you feel comfortable and loved. you remember the days he spent just worshipping your body, saying how perfect you were to him and how much he loved you.

all those fears disappeared with damian so when did it really begin?

probably when he started appearing in his perfect colleagues tiktoks. how easy he was for them to lift them up, throw them around in the ring. they looked nothing like you. they were skinny and yet had muscles. their bodies were heaven’s made.

and then you saw how people - women - drooled under damian’s instagram posts. and you knew that one day he would leave you for one of them. they were pretty, models, something you weren’t.

damian had no idea your mind was playing tricks like that. if he knew, he wouldn’t let you go into this alone, he would be there with you, taking your pain away and fighting your demons, fighting for you.

you knew that and the idea of disappoint him made you even sicker.

the days he was away from work were the perfect days you had to work out, limit yourself with food and trying not to starve yourself. you started by following some easy work out on youtube, cutting out all carbs, drinking more water. things that seemed healthy to you.

but you weren’t getting the results you wanted so you pushed yourself even further. from skipping breakfast and dinner, from working out with damian’s tools - and hurting yourself multiple times because you had no idea how to use them - from drinking water over prioritising food.

you were slowly killing yourself and you didn’t even notice it.

but damian did. he saw the shift in your mood. how you went from being the normal you to being the always tired and hungry you. he noticed that someone used his gym to work out and he knew it was you but he also was aware of the situation you were in. he feared that if he spoke about it you would get mad or that he would trigger something in you, so he stayed quiet.

probably his worst mistake.

as time went by you saw small changes in your appearance. you lost weight, your face looked slimmer and your waist looked smaller but you were starving yourself to the point you would fall asleep everywhere because of the lack of energy you had.

one day as you were hanging out with rhea you were struggling to stay awake and remain focused on what she was saying. you skipped lunch, only eating an apple and drinking plenty of water. you workout for almost two hours before rhea got to your home.

and as she was talking you were trying stay awake but you couldn’t.

“…you okay?” rhea asked when she saw you dozing off.

“uh? yeah sorry i just need a little bit of water, keep talking” you laughed pretending everything is normal. but the moment you stood up from your couch, your legs began shaking a little and rhea was immediately standing next to you

“are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, her hand quickly checking your temperature.

“yeah no worries, i just need a little bit of water…” but two more steps and you fainted on the floor. rhea being able to catch you and trying to wake you up but you were laying there unconscious.

she quickly called 911, scared that you were sick or worse. she stayed with you during the whole ride to the hospital and while you were being checked out, she called damian, informing him that you were currently at the hospital.

damian was at the local gym with his brother when he got the call. panicking, it took him less than twenty minutes to ride to the emergency room. seeing rhea as she was waiting for some news, he ran towards her.

“what happened?” he was clearly panicking. not saying hello or how are you. he couldn’t care less at the moment, you were his priority.

“i don’t know…she fainted, she looked, i don’t know, tired? dehydrated? i don’t know how to describe it but she wasn’t the normal y/n i know…” rhea softly spoke to him but he immediately knew what was the problem. he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath otherwise he was going to explode.

he knew. he knew for all of this time and he didn’t say anything. fearing you would get mad or worse, but what was worse than having you in an hospital bed?

he cursed under his breath, trying to calm himself.

he was blaming himself. he knew it was his fault. if he said something. if he talked with you about it, you probably wouldn’t be laying down there.

but his mind stopped thinking the moment the doctor told him what he didn’t want to hear - you were definitely dehydrated, you haven’t eaten a proper mean in days, you’ve been overworking yourself and your body was sore from the too many hours you spent training.

“can i see her?” damian asked and immediately went to your room once the doctor told him that you were awake.

the moment damian saw your eyes, he couldn’t hold the few tears falling down his eyes.

he saw how you avoided his look and he was suffering for you.

slowly he sat on the bed next to you.

“baby…mi amor” he called you, looking at your face.

turning your head to him, you saw his teary eyes and you couldn’t control your own tears any longer.

“mi amor, why?” that’s all he wanted to know.

“i wanna be skinny” your broken voice whispered “i wanna be skinny so bad damian, you don’t understand how it feels…” but he did. he understood perfectly how you were feeling because he’s been there, in your position. he lost a lot of weight, he was a new person now and he knew the feeling of not being good enough for you or other people. he knew it was deeper for you, and if he could he would take all of your pain away but he knew he couldn’t.

his hand gently stoked your cheek, his thumb drying your tears away “baby, why? you’re so perfect the way you are…i love you so fucking much, why hurting yourself?” his tone was soft and sweet.

“but i don’t damian! i don’t love the way i am, the way i look, the way i make you look when we are out together…i’m not perfect and i wanted to be perfect, for you, for me…” your tears falling down your cheeks.

damian’s heart broke when you said those words. you were more than enough for him. but he knew that it was you who needed to see that, not him.

“starving yourself won’t make you perfect baby…te amo, te amo tanto and i wanna be here for you, i wanna help you mi vida” his lips gently touched your head “i wanna help you feel better, i wish i could take your own pain away…i wanna be the one fighting your battles, i wanna be here for you…”

his words cut deeper than a knife.

he loved you too much to see you suffering like that.

“i just wanna love myself…and it’s tiring, it’s tiring not being able to accept who you are. i wanna love me, i wanna look at myself in the mirror and say how pretty i am, i wanna fucking love myself but i can’t…” your truth coming out.

“it will take time baby, it will take time but you are not alone in this…i wanna help you, i wanna show you how beautiful you are, how deserving you are…you’re everything i want, everything i need and i can help you. you wanna lose weight? okay, but we’re gonna do it healthily, together. you wanna work out? i can show you…please don’t hurt yourself again like this. i hate seeing you suffering and hurting” he tried to smile with you but he couldn’t help the tears flowing down his face.

you were at loss of words “okay…okay, together” you whispered, trying not to choke on your own sobs.

“together baby…” he whispered kissing your head, making you smile against his skin “te amo mi vida, te amo” he smiled, leaving more kisses down your face, making you chuckle.

and damian kept his promise. no matter how busy he was with work, how tired he was after a long work out. he was there step by step with you. he worked out with you. he cooked dinner with you. he helped you relax and he helped you listen to your body. he broke the scale you had in your bathroom, saying how you didn’t need one because changes weren’t a number.

you didn’t need a number to tell you what you wanted to hear, you needed to hear it from inside - the growth, the healthy progress you made. all thanks to damian, the man you loved the most.

[msookyspooky]

Smacking the Slashers on the 🍑

Bo Sinclair, Vincent Sinclair, Lester Sinclair, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Severen Van Sickle, Baby Firefly, Otis Driftwood, Foxy Coltrane

Bo Sinclair:

- "What in the goddamn hell?!-" He drew out after jolting under the hood of a car. He was bent over, his double cheeked up on a Tuesday ass on full display; how could you not? I hope you got one hell of a good smack too. He deserves it. Use one of the fanbelts on the wall. Make it count cause he's not gonna let you do that often without him getting payback. (Oh, but he smacks yours constantly and that's fine)

- If he hit his head on the hood so help you God you need to run and hide for awhile cause he's gonna rage.

- After the shock wears off that someone just smacked his ass... He gets a smirk on his lips and forgets whatever he's working on. "Oh, ya wanna play, do ya? C'mere." You just gave him incentive to hold you down and let his inner perverted sadist out on your ass. You ain't gonna sit right for the rest of the day. I hope you evade him or it turns to a sex thing...Yeah, it'll be a sex thing.

Vincent Sinclair

- He was so busy sculpting and had his Classical Music on high. You tried to get his attention and when that didn't work you swatted him on the butt. He jumped a foot in the air and you had to duck when he almost accidentally took your head off with whatever tool he was using. You startled the hell out of him!

- He's blushing under his mask but gives you a confused look...He's not mad he's just...Curious why you did that.

- He doesn't get revenge right away. Instead, he'll wait till your busy one day and do it back to you just to see your reaction and if it's a playful one then he's kind of happy about it. Not use to this type of dynamic with anyone

Lester Sinclair

- He was loading or unloading a carcass in the bed of his truck and it had been a boring day so you couldn't help it when you smacked him.

- He let's out the funniest noise, blushing like crazy clutching his rear and asks: "Youch! What was that for?"

- If you let him know it was you being flirty or cheeky; he's just standing there smiling a goofy smile and has an extra pip in his step while he works. He probably won't get revenge (At least not right away) but he will be tickled pink that you liked his ass enough to smack it.

Billy Loomis

- He gets so damn serious and overdramatic with certain things that when he was rummaging for something and irritated he couldn't find it; you decided to make him shut up in the best way you knew how.

- *SMACK* He flinched, his back stiffened and a glare instantly crept onto his face. "...You are so dead."

- You better run. He gets this shit enough from Stu, now you? He secretly enjoys it but he's a lil edgelord that can't let you know that.

- Que him chasing you around the house, jumping over and tripping over furniture to either smack your ass ten times harder or punch you in the arm or hold you down and tickle you till you can't breathe.

Stu Macher

- He is CONSTANTLY smacking your ass. CONSTANTLY. You walk sideways and backwards around him! So when he's sitting on his bed in a weird way on his stomach or something with his ass up? Hell yes you're getting him!

- He either releases a genuine gasp because you took him by surprise or the fakest turned 'aauuugh!' moan to be a smart ass cause he knew what you were gonna do (He liked it. He wanted it. He's a whore like that.)

- He giggled and gave you a sadistic smile. "Oh, that ass is mine!" and the chase is on.

- If he catches you; he is holding you down and goosing and feeling you up just as much as smacking you. He is a giant perv and holding you down while squeezing and spanking your ass is definitely on his cumbucket list im js

- Unlike Billy who knows when enough is enough; Stu does not. Just warning that if he catches you he's turning it into something very fucking horny. He is feeling you up one way or another.

Severen Van Sickle

- He was almost always playful and he would just give you a pat on the ass out of excitement on the regular not even thinking about it. So when you finally returned the favor his whole body stiffened a bit and a smirk formed on his face.

- "Oh?...Ya like what ya see, babydoll?" He'd tease you. Not getting revenge but not letting you run away either. He'd fold his arms in that leather jacket and smirk down at you with a twinkle to his blue eyes. Getting closer, cornering you into the wall with one hand bracing it as he leaned over you.

- "Wanna try that again?" He asked. Hell you weren't sure if it was a warning or genuine glee. Eitherway he wasn't mad he just loved seeing you get flustered.

- He definitely teased the hell out of you the rest of the night. Even telling his family and loving seeing you blush. He secretly wants you to do it again and purposely bends over near you not only to be a teasing ass but because it got him excited. He actually is curious if you have the balls to do it again because if you do that's just fun! He'll make it a big sexy flirty game from here on out...Definitely doing it more in private too.

Baby Firefly

- I would not...That's a level of sadistic crazy you cannot contain but if you did? It's 50/50 how she'd react. Most likely, she'd play it up after you spanked her while she was getting something.

- "The flying fuck was that for?!" She glared and when you get sheepish like she wanted then a grin would appear. "Hey...Are you flirtin' with me, honey? You wanna smack my ass again? C'mon. I know you like it." She will literally expose her ass for you and you aren't sure what to do because she LOVED to manipulate and play mind games to get you submissive with her so...Was this a trap?

- If you do smack her ass again, she's definitely going to make it a 'My turn!' and smack you twice as hard before whispering something sexy in your ear...May or may not lead to a game of ass slap where she's winning and you're running away from her because she hurts!

Otis B. Driftwood

- Grouchest Motherfucker to ever exist unless he really is in a good mood. When he was working on an 'art piece' and was ignoring you on purpose you took the chance of smacking his ass.

- He dropped his needle and thread and glared at you. "...Are you fuckin' serious right now? I ain't got time for this ya lil shit!"

- However. He's full of shit himself saying it because whether you get solemn, bratty, playful, annoyed. Does not matter. He's giving you a 10 seconds headstart and telling you "Run lil rabbit run." With a smirk. Especially as he gets older. Prison made him appreciate the little things including having an S/O that wanted to get frisky.

- Once he catches you, and he will in time, he puts you over his knee whether you're at. Outside in the barn, in the woods, in the damn living room in front of everyone. Does not matter. He will give your ass a few swats from his hand till your squirming while taunting you "Ain't this fun? Ain't this what you wanted?" all before doing it a few more times. He ain't done till your teary eyed and squirming and your ass is blood red. Then he's dipping his hand down. Rubbing soothing circles while whispering naughty praise in your ear. "That's a good lil girl/boy/bunny for me...How about we take this back to my room and you can show Daddy how much ya want his attention?"

Winslow Foxworth 'Foxy' Coltrane

- He was a bit hungover. Groaning like the oldman he is and bent over to get another beer from the mini fridge in the room when you took a towel because you showered and you aren't nasty like him and Otis and just...Rolled it up and smacked his ass.

- He yelped and jolted a bit before giving you the most unamused glare. "Really?...Really, you lil fuck- Ow!" You definitely smacked him again the second he got close enough. Something about that second smack has a smirk on his face. A husky chuckle escapinging him because you just made this a thing. "Ohohoo, you're fuckin' in trouble now. Come the fuck over here, asscakes. I think you could use a few lickin's yourself."

- He has good reflexes and a high tolerance for pain so he just jerks that towel out of your hand when you go to smack him and loops it around your waist. Pulling you flush against him where you can't get free.

- He uses his large hands to grope your ass and give it a good smack while you're up against him and he's smirking down at you. "Ya like that, baby? You must really want to give me an excuse to feel up this fine ass of yours."

- It is most definitely 100% leading to the most nastiest raunchy dirty but fun sex. The type of sex that you aren't keen on sharing details about. He smacked your ass the entire time while talking dirty to you.