#just let me send out my silly little reports and move my silly little work orders and be done for the day

[liketaylorswift]

working from home sucks. like how DARE you stress me out in my own home

[devilander]

in teaching you will learn (chapter 1)

18+ 3k. homelander x tutor f!reader. employer and employee sexual tension. abuse of power. fingering. AO3 link.

You accepted a job proposal to work as a History tutor to Homelander's son. It suddenly turns out to be more than you had bargained for.

prompt sent by @plasticfangtastic, thank you so much! beta'ed by @flaggermuser, love you!

Ryan was a very smart child. Powerful and smart, naturally, as any of Homelander’s offspring would be. So, to sate his endless curiosity, tutors—from the best universities, Homelander would settle for nothing else—of all subjects were hired to teach whatever was needed, whatever Ryan liked.

You had never imagined yourself in this position, History tutor to the Homelander’s son. But when you received Vought’s call, and they told you the paycheck that’d come with it, you immediately agreed. A non-supe, you wondered what it’d be like to deal with such a special kid, if Homelander would disapprove of your ways and send you packing on the first day. 

Insecurities were never your thing—you had received a M.A in History and Literature, for god’s sake! This was your turf. 

But… teaching a child? Whenever you would envision your future, you always imagined yourself as a professor, strict and serious, dealing solely with adults or, at most, young adults. 

You'd rise up, though, you knew it—even if you needed to spend all of your nights, from dusk ‘till dawn, watching videos on gentle parenting, endless courses on “childhood education” and teaching young learners. You would do it, and you would do it perfectly.

On your first day, you had a whole speech prepared, something about how much of an honor it was, how excited you were, how many ideas you already had; your stomach fluttered as you looked at his clear blue eyes, beautiful nose—

Homelander barely let you start. 

“Now.” He raised his hands, effectively shutting you up. “Enough with the yada yada, ‘kay? Let's get some things straight—all of your ideas gatta be approved by me first. And Ryan.”

“I'm sure, sir, I only meant—”

“And you'll not be berating him, for whatever fucking reason. You're not the boss here. I am. And, well, if he complains about anything, anything really, you’ll be… dismissed. That understood?” He had a congenial smile on his face, though you swore his eyes shined red, if only for a second. “Take care of my son, huh?”

He patted you on the shoulder and left. You just stood there, fuming and exasperated. If there's one thing you hated with a passion was condescending men; interrupting and disregarding your words as inane silliness. 

High and mighty as he was, Homelander was cut from the same cloth as them, it seemed. If it weren’t for your student debt piling up, you’d turn around and leave. As it were, you gritted your teeth and stayed. 

After that, though, you hardly ever saw him, and when you did, he only gave you an indiscernible look and a nod. 

Fine by me, you thought bitterly, mad at yourself that he'd surely noticed your flushed cheeks and quickened breath at your first real sight of him.

Ryan was sweet though. Sharp and eager to learn whatever you presented him with, such that you moved on quickly from fifth, sixth, to a seventh-grade curriculum. 

You found a happy medium—keeping it fun and educational. And you knew, you knew, whenever you were there, Homelander was watching you. 

And he was. Of course he was. He’d had his fair share of tutors Vogelbaum would present him with. Condescending little assholes, always thinking they knew better, reporting every minor thing he did, lecturing and punishing at their pleasure. 

As if he'd let his kid suffer the same fate. 

Education was, however, important, so he hired simpering tutors—a school would not do, no place was fit for Ryan—and those who didn't know their place were quickly taken care of. 

Yet you, the third History teacher hired (the first one was such a fucking mess—snapping his neck as soon as he left Vought was not enough for having the gall to rudely reprimand his son) were doing well so far. 

Oh, he had seen how you blushed and stuttered when you two met, and he had seen how you gradually steeled your eyes at his words. 

He had also noticed the sway of your hips, your pink, heart shaped mouth, the addictive sound of your voice—your scrunched up nose as you looked at him in poorly disguised anger.

So, yes, of course, of course he was watching, for more reasons than one. 

One day, when you and Ryan were talking animatedly about the creation of the American Constitution, Homelander decided to barge in, almost knocking the door off of its hinges.

You nearly fell off your seat in surprise, for a second scared and worried, until you saw his face. He looked as happy as a kid. Well, happier than Ryan. 

“Wowza,” he said. “What party do you two have goin’ on here? I could hear you from the hallway.” 

He could hear no matter how loud you were, but you got the gist. Smiling, though miffed at the interruption, you crossed the room, and he met you halfway.

“I was showing Ryan this book. Look.” He leaned down, his face touching yours. Oh God, oh God, wrong move. “It contains all of Thomas Paine's pamphlets published during the war in its original format. We were discussing how Paine's thoughts impacted on the Constitution’s writing.”

“Very nice,” he said, still so close to you the pure heat his body radiated engulfed your senses. And your body kept betraying, and betraying, and fucking betraying you.

“Oh, I love this part.” You thanked the heavens your voice didn't quiver, and started to read out loud. “Tyranny, like hell—”

“Is not easily conquered.” Homelander completed, and you looked up, only to find him already looking at you.

His hand then rested on your arm, lingering for a few seconds too long, his eyes locking you in place. You gulped, heart thumping in your chest—

“Dad,” Ryan bemoaned. Homelander dropped his hand instantly. “This is my class. You're interrupting us!”

Homelander frowned, then almost pouted. 

“Geez, buddy, what a way to treat your old man.” He crossed his arms; you contained a giggle. His eyes glinted mischievously as he turned to you. “Can I be your student for the day? I promise to behave.” 

“I don't see why n—”

“No,” Ryan exclaimed, interrupting you. “No, no and no!” 

Though he tried, there was no convincing Ryan. He wouldn't share the time he had with you. Inwardly, you smiled at the kid’s innocent jealousy; and thanked the heavens for the save, you certainly needed it. 

Huffing and stomping his feet, Homelander left the room, but not without giving his son an annoyed glare and you a look you couldn't—wouldn't—name yet. Maybe ever. 

Weeks passed, classes going smoothly despite your warring thoughts. You were attracted to Homelander, because of course you were; lucky you. Your boss, supe, leader of the Seven. The man who had so far threatened you, talked with you, touched you… 

Fear tinged with desire, confusion with curiosity. He was equal parts charming and infuriating. Would you dare to willingly put your hand in the mouth of the tiger? 

It became routine for Homelander to participate—or interrupt—your lessons to share his own opinions, much to Ryan's chagrin. And you… you were endeared. 

“Think you could've done a better job than Theodore Roosevelt? Really?” Your disbelieving tone didn't seem to put him off, just the opposite.

“I'm certain I could.”

His playful smile and arrogant tone annoyed you. Enchanted you. 

“Well, you should try for president, then,” you joked, catching yourself turning fully towards him. “You'll beat the records of votes and rule this grand nation!”

He hummed, winking at you. “Yeah, no. Not really in my… interests right now.”

“Would you make a Shermanesque statement on that?”

Homelander laughed, shaking his head. 

“Nah, maybe I’ll change my mind.” His eyes roamed over your body. “Couldn’t have that.” 

“What’s Sherman—Shermesque,” Ryan piped in, furrowing his brows as he stumbled over the word. “What are you talking about?”

“If nominated, I will not run; If elected, I will not serve,” you spoke at the same time and giggled, giggled!, together. Stop giggling like a schoolgirl, you chastised yourself, but you couldn't help it. There was such a thrill about flirting with danger in the flesh. 

Turning to Ryan, you explained. “It’s something William Sherman said. He was a popular general during the Civil War and was being considered as the Republican candidate during presidential elections. He, however, refused!” When excited, your arms had a mind of their own, and you found yourself gesturing wildly, enthusiastically. “His words became really popular from then on, such that it's now called a Shermanesque statement, and sometimes used by politicians and the like.”

Homelander couldn’t help but stare while you talked, entranced by your passionate speech, flushed cheeks and shining eyes. You were so fucking cute, deliciously captivating—even in your pitiful stubborn act, or all the more enticing because of it. He wanted to savor each and every moment you walked about the room; wanted to catalog your breath changes, the rises of your voice, your moving lips. 

Would you be just as responsive in another, more interesting scenario?, he wondered. Maybe you would want to take charge, bossy little thing you are. Maybe he’d have to bend you just shy of breaking you only to see you beg—beg him to fuck you, to let you come on his fingers, mouth and cock. 

His filthy thoughts raged on, only interrupted when you announced your time was up. Ryan groans in disappointment and Homelander has a hard time not doing the same. He hungers for more moments with you. Alone.   

“C’mon, kiddo,” he says, noticing Ryan stalling to tidy up his books and supplies as he liked to do. “You gotta get ready for your shooting today.”

Ryan grumbles under his breath. “I hate these commercials.”

Before he can answer, you approach, tousling Ryan’s hair and leaning down to look him in the eyes. 

“Hey, sweetheart, it will be okay. Just play pretend like we talked,” you said. “And if it gets too much, I'm sure your dad will take care of it. I'll bring you a treat tomorrow, how about that?”

He should probably put you in your place for daring to presume you know shit about him and his son—as if your puny mind could understand the greater beings they were. And yet, and yet… Ryan was smiling, rushing to embrace you though his quick heartbeat betrayed how nervous he was. You hugged him back, and looked at Homelander with such sweet grin that he—fuck, he felt fucking breathless.

He wanted to kiss you. 

When Ryan left the room, you snatched your purse, seemingly wanting to leave as quickly as possible. But Homelander stood in front of the door, unmoving, his jewel-toned eyes intensely fixated on you. 

A sudden heat spread through your body, and you let out a breathy sigh. And he noticed; eyes tracking over your face and chest, like undressing you with his mind. 

Perhaps he was. He certainly could. The thought made you desperate, you needed to run. Your apartament wouldn't be enough, maybe you should catch a bus to Jersey. Or a fucking plane to—Russia, or farther—

“Want me to give you a ride?” You were so distracted you barely heard his words, much less the double entendre. 

“What?” 

He snickered. “I said—”

“No! I mean yes. I mean no!” You shook your head, dizzy. “No, sir, I wouldn't want to trouble you.”

“Ah but there's no trouble at all, it'll take a minute. I know where you live.”

“You do?” A shudder ran through you.

“Of course, you silly goose. It's in your resume.” He tapped your nose, a gesture so off-putting you snorted, suddenly aware he'd closed the distance without you noticing. “Let's go, little miss mouthy. Don't make me insist,” he declared, voice still cheerful, but you caught the edge of it, leaving no room for argument. 

“Okay, okay… But only this time!” 

Homelander simply laughed. 

Reaching the balcony, you looked down and froze. Too high, too high!, your brain screamed at you. 

“Hehe, on second thought…” You looked at him pleadingly, a weird laugh bubbling out in sheer nervousness. You gripped the banister as if your very life depended on it. 

“Ah, ah. No takesies backsies.” He wiggled his finger in your face, and, for a single moment, two, three seconds?, caressed your cheek softly. 

Before you could react, he grabbed you by the waist and took off. Panic stricken, you hid your face in his neck, dangling legs instinctively circling his hips; much like a koala, you held on to him in all ways you could—even your fingers found locks of his hair to grip mercilessly.

Through the rush of the wind, you felt, more than heard, his laugh. 

It took some seconds to catch on to the overwhelming closeness between you two—how every inch of your body was adhering to his, how you could feel the impressive strength emanating from him, how his warm breath was hitting your neck, leaving shivers in its wake. 

You could feel it all. No matter the padded suit, you felt the tension in his muscles, the upheaval in his chest as he drew you even closer and fuck you couldn't fucking help clenching your cunt and exhaling right next to his ear—

In a second, Homelander had you on the roof of your building.

You didn't want to look up, fearing what he'd throw at you, anger and indifference or lust and temptation. Both shook you to your core. 

“Wakie, wakie,” he said, breathless, a certain roughness to his tone. His hands squeezed your back with surprising care. Each second was too long, and yet not enough. 

And then you felt it, as you started to disentangle yourself from his body, his cock, hard and throbbing, poking your stomach, dangerously close to where you ached for it the most. 

You looked up. 

There was no smirk, no mocking eyes—only a stare so intense your heart skipped a beat. 

“Thank you, Homelander, for the—for the ride. I appreciate it, despite you almost giving me a heart attack at first.” You giggled, trying to dispel the mood.

“How about you thank me by inviting me in? Y’know what they say, actions speak louder than words.” 

“No, I…” you hesitated, trying to think of an excuse but your mind went blank. “No.”

Homelander cocked his head, dazzling smile turning a little unnerving. “No? Is that right?”

“How about another day? I can—”

“I didn't fucking ask for a bullshit, out-of-pity mock invite, did I? What is it, hiding some terrorists in your shithole apartment? Or mommy’s dead body?”

If it weren't for his looming over you, you'd crack a laugh—his mind certainly went places. 

“Listen—” You started again, only to be pushed until your back hit the roof's door, knocking the air out of you. 

“You listen,” he ground out, eyes a kaleidoscope of red and blue. It was painfully exhilarating. “Don’t try lying to me. I can sense you, I can fucking smell you, your pussy is soaked.” To prove his point, he removed one glove and opened up your pants; your panties were shoved aside as he squeezed two fingers inside you. You whimpered at the burn of his intrusion, but you were so wet the squelch was loud even to your ears. “You either invite me in or I'll rip your clothes off and fuck you right here. Your choice, sweetheart.”

Homelander was being nice in giving you a choice, despite the fact you were a rude tease, and a liar to boot. His fingers kept pumping in and out of you, and he found it so fucking hard not to go all the way, not to have you against this door while you moaned so, so sweetly. 

He needed you—to feel you clenching on his cock as you did now on his fingers. And you wanted him. Fuck, you were whining and opening your legs so he could finger you better, clinging onto his waist as your head rested on his shoulder. Still, you dazedly shook your head. What was the matter with you?

“Oh, please, please,” you half begged, half moaned, raspy voice driving him crazy. “We can't, I can't…”

“Give me one good fucking reason why not, huh. One.”

Instead of answering, you kissed him. He seemed surprised at first, but reciprocated in an instant. And it was all you expected it'd be, messy and passionate and hot; he consumed you, drinking in every part of you, all you had to give, and what you wouldn’t give, he would take. 

You gathered his face in your hands, wanting a little bit of tenderness in the violent chaos of you, a little bit of love—if you could.

His hand kept working on you, thumb rubbing your clit in circles and, before you ran completely out of breath, you came so hard your legs gave out. 

Perfect for Homelander to catch, hold you onto his body as you rode the waves of your pleasure—so beautiful he was enraptured. 

After a few moments, you whispered. “I can't let you in. If I do, I won't think straight, I'll just let you do anything you want to me.” 

“Is that a bad thing, sweetheart?”

“I'm… not used to this, I don't… I haven't done much of this. You never even asked me out!” You laughed. The good humor vanished as you continued. “I can't lose this job. I need it, I like it. If we do… What will even happen to me?” You cursed your own inability to talk about this, all your eloquence going to the drain when you needed to speak of something other than History. In those moments, you always felt like mimicking some speech taught to you long ago, as if talking about your own feelings was an unattainable device. 

Yet Homelander found it amusing. Apparently he'd gotten you all wrong, or at least parts of it. For all your bravado in speaking to him, in challenging him—in your fearlessness and spunk—you were inexperienced. Innocent. Shy. Wasn't that his fucking lucky day. 

“So the baby wants me to take her on a date first, that it?”

“I didn't say that.” You raised a brow, crossing your arms. “And don’t call me baby.”

“Also I boy-scout promise not to fire you if you are a bad lay, but I doubt that, baby.”

“Oh, shut up,” you said, though there was no bite to it, only a timid smile on your face. “Okay, alright. This weekend?” 

“Friday. I’ll send someone to pick you up. Wear something nice for me.”

Before leaving, he kissed you deeply, hands nearly shaking with yearning. He wanted to take it all back and drag you to his bed, absconding with you for a day or two. But he’d waited this long and he could wait a bit longer—he’d savor every second and make it worth it.

As you walked down the stairs to your apartment you sighed, drunk in the haze of disbelief; there was no way you could run now. It’s clear you have a problem. What you should wish for isn’t what you want.

[karenssupplystore]

Photo booth (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x GN! reader)

Warnings: none (let me know if there is any!)

Word count: 1079

There weren't many times when Simon had a day off, but when he did, you better know he'd be spending every moment with his partner. 

Back for a few days after a long mission? Reports are finished in record time and left on Price's desk.

A few hours between long meetings? He's calling you or sending a text, just wanting a moment of peace and to hear your voice before he'll inevitably have to deal with Soap's shenanigans.

Point being any time away from work he has, you're the first thing on his mind, and he will do anything to get that little bit of recharge time with the one person who he feels he can truly relax with.

So when the 141 gets back from a long, few-month mission on the other side of the globe, as soon as humanly possible, Simon's heading home to be with you. 

The first few days are just spent curled up together. Lazy mornings turning into lazy afternoons with lingering touches and tender kisses. Cooking together in the warmth of your shared kitchen, his big arms wrapped around your waist as his chin rests on the top of your head. Warm meals and lots of storytelling, more so coming from your end, but who wouldn't want to know about how the neighbours got into another fight and might be ending in divorce this time?

After those initial days just gently getting back into the calm civilian life, the two of you are more than happy to adventure out for the day. Treating yourselves to a nice cup of tea and a fresh pastry from a rather fancy cafe in the heart of town and a calm walk by river, hand in hand, the two of you find yourselves in a little corner store as the clouds roll over and little drops start to fall.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

"Bloody hell love, a little rain won't hurt ya," Simon chuckles as you pull him into a nearby corner store as the droplets of rain start to gain momentum, falling in a more rapid succession.

"Yes, but I did my hair today, and I don't want it to be ruined," you answer with a playful roll of your eyes. The store is much more pleasant than the rain, with a warm glow to the lights and, most importantly, nice and dry. 

Deciding to busy yourselves while the rain rolls over, the two of you go up and down the few isles, pointing out little snacks you want to try or ones you have tried and definitely didn't like. Coming to the end of one of the isles you spot an old photo booth pushed into the corner and excitedly pull on Simon's arm.

"Si, look! Do you think it works?" The whole thing looks like it hasn't been used in a long while, but, taking your chances, you pull the curtain open and the display lights up. 

"Suppose it does, come 'ere," a large hand moves to hold your waist as you're pulled onto Simon's lap, the two of you making a tight fit in the small booth.

With an excited squeal you press a few buttons, pulling a few pound coins from your pocket and inserting them into the machine, a quick preview of the photo format appearing on the screen. Before the two of you can plan what your poses will be, the first timer starts counting down.

""Right, just a smile then?" He says, guiding one of your arms over his shoulders as you lean your head closer, big smile pulling at your lips and a hint of a curl on the Brits. The flash clicks and the photo shows before another timer starts counting down.

"Now a silly one!" You say, holding up bunny ears behind his head as you stick your tongue out, Simon doing quite the similar pose. The timer stops and another flash goes off, both your eyes drawn to the preview of the photo. For a burly military man Simon sure does look a bit silly with the tip of his tongue poking out and your fingers as bunny ears behind him, contrasting his usual hard and gruff facade he put son for the average individual.

"Hey, you copied my idea," A playful shove is given to his shoulder as you look at the photo, chuckles leaving the both of you. "Can't help if it's a good idea," Simons voice grumbles though the smile on his scared lips tells you how happy you make him as he pokes a finger in your ribs, making you laugh.

"Simon!" You giggle, half heartedly pulling away from him, "That tickles!" The Brit doesn't stop his teasing and you try to pull away again that you almost fall off his lap, arms flailing slightly but a hand firmly on your waist ensures you don't go anywhere. In the struggle the timer for the third photo finishes and the flash goes off just as you feel like you're tipping.

As the two of you calm your giggles you see there's only one photo left and you turn to look at Simon, exaggerated disappointment on your face. "Look you ruined the photo," you tease as you point to the screen.

"Wouldn't have been ruined if ya were more original," He chuckles, fingers lightly pinching your thigh as he gazes at you with those big brown eyes. "I'm plenty original, thank you"

The timer counting down for the fourth and final picture snaps you both back as you stumble to figure out one last pose.

"What do you we do for this one?" You ask out loud as you try your hardest to think of a cute pose.

Without more than a little grumble of a 'Come 'ere' Simons free hand reaches up and gently wraps around your neck, pointer finger helping guide your face to his as your lips meet his. All thoughts are almost completely disregarded as you lean into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as his tongue traces the seam of your lips. Just as you begin to part your lips the flash goes off and the machine begins to print the series of photos.

""ere you go, love," Simon grumbles as his hand leaves your warm skin to grab the photos, handing them to you. Hand on your thigh giving you a gently pat before guiding you off his lap and out of the photo booth, grin on his lips the whole time.

[1920sladydectective]

Two Steps Forward, One Forest Back 2.8K

This is for @kkatsukiswife who had an awesome idea and let me write it! I hope it fulfils your expectations, it's a little longer than I'd intended.

Head of Medarda Oil Corp, Ambessa is exhausted by the silly environmental scientist who keeps ruining her expansion. There's only one way to fix that.

Cross posted to AO3

MINORS DNI

Warnings: Degradation, Tipsy Sex, Exhibitionism and Dumbification kinda, Choking, Bathroom Sex, mentions of bondage

This is NOT proofread cause fuck that:

It had only been three months and yet every moment spent working for the Medarda corporation seemed to shave years off of your life. 

You had gone in so rosy eyed, certain you would be changing the future for the better, making a huge environmental impact, finally able to regulate and report the bastards rotting the world. Your boss, manipulative asshole that she was, had basically promised as much. Instead you sat in opulent boardrooms, battling the wolves as they attempted to turn the world to ash and profit margins. 

CEO Ambessa Medarda was the worst to deal with, her children at least seemed to possess half a conscience. She, however, stared across the mahogany table and tried to devour your soul. It started as small things, not reading your reports before shareholder meetings, or perhaps misquoting some of your numbers. Easily corrected, if you could stand the dark gaze she’d send your way. 

“Of course,” She’d simper, “Thank you for that, my Dear,” 

Soon it became more outrageous, your body flooding with cortisol at every new email you received. Their drilling sight was in a forest, though if you were to point that out she would remind you it was well within the guidelines of oil drilling near wildlife and flora. Well within was a handful of metres, as close as they could have gotten, and every time your numbers remind you of that you have to do a meditative breathing exercise. This wasn’t enough for Ambessa though, there was more just within the treeline and her recent campaign had made it clear she wanted it regardless of the consequences. 

Meeting Four - 24th August 2024 - Recorded Minutes 

AM - Surely a matter of inches will make no impact, gentlemen, and look at the margin of profit. Nobody else has been able to secure a site like this, it would be sellable at an astounding premium. 

ES - Nobody has secured that sort of site for a reason, Mrs Medarda. The havoc it would cause to the local ecosystem is immense, and it is illegal for that reason. 

AM - Not illegal per new legislation, just heavily regulated. 

ES - Do you have any proposals to help you meet those regulations? I seem to be looking at stocks and traders and very little else. 

AM - All in due time

ES - Due time is now Mrs Medarda

You could still feel the air being sucked from the room. It was as bold as you had gotten so far, and her crimson smirk seemed to ward you off of doing it again. The day after the meeting, none of your alarms had gone off, your expensive eco-friendly coffee machine broke and your company key-card stopped working. It had to be a coincidence, but you had been looking over your shoulder ever since. 

Ambessa lingered like a shark who could smell blood. Her beautiful, towering form monitoring your every move. Sometimes, in the quiet early morning it would be only you and her in the building. Her scent seemed to linger, heady and sharp, her sparkling eyes and sarcastic smiles hyper focused on you. It was heavy, such attention, especially when a deep, villainous part of your soul would remind you that she was just your type. Imposing, commanding, insanely muscular. Had you seen her on the streets your mouth would have watered. She couldn’t know that though. Never, ever. She was flirtatious enough when she thought you had no interest, she’d rip your moral compass to shreds if she got a taste of your inner turmoil. She wanted to eat you and you would not let her. 

Her voice, melodic and low, was suddenly in your ear. For Fuck Sake.

“Another eighty nine page legal document in my inbox, darling,” She was so close, so close you twitched, “You really are ensuring the best for our company,” 

“Wouldn’t want you to rush into any development decisions without knowing all the facts,” You said, raising an eyebrow with a shrug, “Bad for business,”

“You’d know all about being bad for business,” She said alluringly, sharp teeth glinting behind her lips, making you gulp slightly. 

She walked away with no other words, her hips swaying impossibly slowly as she took long purposeful strides. You almost groaned, downing cold, bitter coffee beans. This job was going to kill you. 

Days passed in a blur, each one filled with heavy looks and cutting remarks. Each day she moved three steps forward and you pushed her four back. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, you thought she’d throttle you against the wall for all to see. 

One day she did. 

You were gasping, body trembling, as she held you against the boardroom table by your throat, fingers trailing your inner thighs. Her gruff voice was taunting you, teasing your aching core as she squeezed your neck just enough for your vision to blur. She had had enough of your interference, showing you how weak you truly were. 

“You’d know all about being bad for business,” She mocked, licking your hard clit. 

There was nothing you could do but submit, babbling and grunting as she finally gave you the touch you craved. Her name fell from your lips in a perverse prayer, wanton and airy. 

You were so close, she could tell, eyes glossy as you thrust into her touch. Your orgasm ripped through you, making you scream. 

Neon numbers glimmered. 3:14AM. 

You’d just had a sex dream about your corrupt oil baron boss, real enough to dampen your sheets. Your body ached and against better judgement you reached into your nightstand, vibrator wiping your mind of all thoughts until you cummed yourself back to sleep. 

As the morning beckoned, so did your crippling, sticky guilt. You couldn’t keep going on like this, you had to get it out of your system and not by having graphic dreams about Ambessa Fucking Medarda. There was only one thing for it, you would have to get drunk at the artsy lesbian bar downtown and fuck a random stranger. Obviously. 

You felt good. Your hair had styled just right, your make up hadn’t made you screech irritatedly at your cat and for once heels didn’t feel awful. This was going well. You were going to get some. Or something. 

The bar was packed, full of swaying hips and swishing hair as you creeped your way to the bar. Cocktails were on offer, dangerous and delicious as you sat swinging your legs on a barstool. Music had you swaying in time, downing drink after drink as you fluttered your eyelashes at every pretty girl who glanced your way. You’d never been too good at the chase, but you were desperate enough to try. 

Dancing was freeing, body moving of its own accord as you twirled in circles and gripped strangers arms, moving fast and close together. Everything felt naturally fuzzy, light and right, exactly as you’d needed. She hadn’t even crossed your mi-

Ambessa stood tall, leaving lazily against the bar as a drunken brunette tried to chat her up. She was sweet enough, giggly and open, relishing in any attention she gave her. She wasn’t quite right though, Ambessa sighed, her parameters were incredibly specific tonight. Almost impossibly so and yet. There you were, tipsy yourself clearly, dancing in the arms of a short blonde woman. Ambessa’s lips curled into a devious grin, waiting patiently for you to catch her eye. 

No. Just no. 

Your gaze was stuck to hers, a magnet pulling you in as your mind swirled. She looked perfect, the confines of the business world had melted away to reveal raw sex appeal. Her muscles seemed larger, clearer as her shirt and trousers clung to her. Her thighs were too delicious, her gold make up adding a shimmer to her dark eyes. You faintly felt the blonde woman’s hands on your hips as you moved, mind full of cotton. Ambessa raised her glass, tilting it towards you mockingly, her grin eating at you. 

Want. Need. All consumin- No. Enough. Goodbye Ambessa. 

Your burning form turned away from her, extracting yourself from the dance and looping the long way back to the other side of the bar, hidden from Ambessa’s position. Downing a tequila shot, you grunted. Your plan was fucked and you needed to leave here as soon as possible, but she was right by the exit. Panicked, you slipped into the bathroom, fingers gripping the art deco sink for life as you huffed. You looked as good as you had when you left home and yet you felt a state, lips puffy and hair seemingly unkempt. 

Click

“Hello there, darling,” Ambessa’s honeyed voice echoed in the tiny bathroom as she locked the main door, “Fancy seeing you here,” 

Your mouth dried, her beauty almost stifling this close, “Mrs Medarda,”

“We’re in a gay bar Dear, you can call me Ambessa,” She snorted, stepping to rest just to your right. She was circling you in her head, your body the sweetest prey she could hope to hunt. 

“Ambessa,” You repeated, unsure, “What do you want?” 

She laughed almost pityingly, it was seductive, frustrating, just like the rest of her as she murmured your name. 

“Me?” Heat burns in your gut, making you cramp with need, the alcohol in your blood no match for the warmth of lust. 

“Of course,” Her hand cupped your chin, forcing you to hold her gaze, “I’ve always wanted you, you must know you drive me to distraction,”

It seemed unlikely, her distracted by anything, but it was such an arousing, tempting thought. Your mouth lulled open in a small gasp, her fingers tickling against your neck. You were done for, mind melting down between your legs the longer she looked at you. It felt like she could sense it, her other hand bending you slightly as your hands scrambled to lie against the ornate mirror so that you could steady yourself, stomach now against the sink. 

“What?” You stammered, as she sank to the floor, strong elbows nudging your legs apart. 

“You’re not naive, pretty girl,” She breathed, her words dancing across your bare thighs, “You’ve got too many brains in your soft head for that,” 

It was odd to be complimented by her, especially for your intelligence. It made you feel proud and happy. Her praise was immediately addictive, spilling forth from blood red lips as she kissed and nipped at your skin. Each word a nail in the coffin of your demise, each kiss a moment longer being drowned by her. You were stuck, and as you caught your own hazy, tipsy expression in the mirror you giggled. Oops. 

Ambessa rewarded your giggle with a lick against your clothed cunt, her tongue flat and slow. Everything went silent for a moment as you bucked against her grip, whining. 

“Good girl,” She hummed, “Soaked for me,” 

“God,” you slurred, she had you desperate and aching. 

“We can make that my name if you like,” She muttered mockingly, pushing aside your lacy underwear and lapping at your drenched hole. Her touch was considerate, fast and calculated as you huffed and sighed. Her strong hands gripped your hips, rocking you against the basin as she fucked you mercilessly with her tongue. She could feel the dwindling hesitance in you, the desire to submit held back by weak moral strings. It was okay, she thought, she’d snap those as you came into her mouth. 

Her goal was simple, make you an empty headed doll for her to ruin, mark and stuff you until you finally understood how to respect her. Then she might actually get somewhere. You were in your own world of pleasure, following her movements as you trembled and burned. It felt so good, better than any dream could have been. 

Your orgasm was close, taunting you and making your vision dance with pretty white stars. Some weak, nearly dead part of you wanted to resist it, to uphold some control. She didn’t own you. Not yet at least. The resistance was too late however, as thick, calloused fingers teased and stretched your cunt out of nowhere, just as she sucked your hard clit into her wet, perfect mouth. Your mind and morals shattered like pretty iridescent glass. 

“Fuck,” You cried against the mirror, eyes rolling into your head, “Shit fuck,” 

“That’s my slut,” Ambessa said, savouring the sloppy liquid dripping down your thighs. 

The nickname surprised and confused you, heavy head looking down at her. 

“What else could you be?” She said commandingly, sucking her fingers dry as your eyes glazed, “You’re so good for me, taking what I give you, like a whore would,” 

You nodded, legs trembling. You did want to take it. Take it all. Whatever she said. It almost made you feel drunker, though the tequila had long since floated through you now. 

“If I had known it would be this easy to make you pliant and soft,” She muttered huskily, words touching your ear as she stood, “I’d have bent you over my desk weeks ago, Little girl,” 

That enough made a small orgasm flutter out, your chest heaving as stared into her eyes in the reflection. Her hand slapped against your wet pussy, making you smile as you blew a little kiss her way. 

Ambessa snorted, smoothing over your slightly sweaty hairline. You were so pretty, even better now you were hers. 

“Watch yourself,” She muttered hypnotically, “In the mirror,” 

You hummed, glancing at yourself. She was pretty to stare at but you didn’t want to make her unhappy. Suddenly, it felt as though you were being lifted above the ground slightly, her strong arm holding you as she stuffed three fingers into you. 

The stretch burned, making you snarl slightly as she made you whole. That was how it felt. Complete and perfect, as the look of your clouded, slutty face made you hornier. You loved how she made you look, how she made you feel, obscene slapping sounds filling the bathroom. 

A light shove against the door, your moan choking in your throat as exhilaration at being quite suffocated you. 

“Oh,” A distant drunken sigh, “This bathroom’s closed for repairs, let’s try the other,” 

Ambessa bit your neck, sucking at your sweet spot, as she felt you clench and gush at the sound of voices, “You like that, Good girl? The thought of them knowing a horny mess is being fucked into oblivious in a random bar?”

You nodded, neck aching with the force as you continued to stare at yourself. Any time your gaze drifted to her she would stop dead, eyes dark. After the second time it nearly killed you and you forced yourself to meet your drooling expression. Ambessa seemed intent on sending you over the edge, thinking she had all of you but your longing voice proved her wrong. 

“My throat,” You moaned, “Need you to c-crush it, like my,” a desperate whine, “like my dreams,” 

Ambessa felt herself black out slightly at your request, your whimpering and begging making her own cunt twitch wantonly. She dropped your feet back onto the navy tile, hand wrapping around your neck with measured pressure. The change was immediate, your body no longer tense and twitching, but limp like the doll she’d dreamed off. You took her relentless thrusts, effortlessly, as she made your blood rush and pulse in her ears. Air wasn’t necessary unless she gave it to you, tongue lolling out of your mouth. You came as suddenly as last time, losing your vision as you squirted down her arm, lungs greedily inhaling air as she crushed your throat and released it. 

You don’t really remember how you’d moved from the bathroom, mind empty as strong arms tidied you up as much as possible and led you through the warm crowds. A long, sleek car sat waiting for her and you were gently placed in it. You’d never been in a limousine before, not that you had any brain capacity to appreciate it. 

“Precious girl,” She cooed, stroking your cheek as she pushed you onto the carpeted floor of the car, “I think it’s your turn, don’t you?” 

She’d slipped her trousers off and her cunt was bare for you to get lost in. You almost squealed in excitement, nuzzling and licking happily all to serve her. It took hours, moving from car, to against her front door and finally in her silky, warm bed. Toys, a violent pounding from behind and some soft ropes had you pleading to serve her, to be used and owned. 

You had been right, there was no coming back from the sweet bliss of her control, consequences be damned. 

Ambessa liked you against her, devoted and spent as she spun commands for you, all sinking into your malleable mind as she fed you sips of water and scratched your scalp. 

Pretty little girl. You were hers now, and so was that fucking forest.

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Finally watched Caped Crusader and I have ✨thoughts✨.

Oswalda is straight up iconic. Loved every scene with her. I actually laughed out loud when the dude goes "Thorne got you to kill the wrong son?" and she responds "Not that!" I'd let her lock me in a suitcase and throw me in the sea. She gets a gold star ⭐

I like that we get to see Selina's origin. I like the classic suit. That's kinda it though. A bit sad that Bruce didn't feel any connection with her. Just not a huge fan of her character here. She doesn't feel like Selina (a problem most of this show faces tbh).

I was loving the Harley stuff. The bit with Renee was so cute, and I love that she really was passionate about helping Bruce move past his trauma. I really like that she's Barbara's friend. Was really upset at the fakeout death but at least she was just joshin. The villain stuff felt like fetishes which like okay. I guess Bruce needed to put in something to replace BruceBabs. Anyway, that's the final dig towards him. As much as this Harley episode wasn't my favorite, a promise is a promise. Although I do gotta ask, WHY CAN'T RENEE CATCH A BREAK IN HER LOVE LIFE >:(((

No fucking way the moral of episode 7 was "the system is totally not screwed, it's just a few bad apples and also a criminal is a criminal and should be jailed". Barbara literally says the system sucks cause the cops can do what they want and get in anyone's pockets and then nearly gets killed by a cop and then they end it with "actually, I think you do"?! I mean yeah that specific guy deserved prison but ending it on that note of Barbara feeling betrayed and confused on her morals tells a very not-so-delightful message. Glad the show backtracks on all that immediately but it's still weird and definitely could've used some revising to fit in with the rest.

Onomatopeia was awesome though. I remember people claiming his shtick couldn't work when he appeared in Superman and Lois. They said that it only worked in comics and would be too silly out loud. Happy to report that they're wrong.

I feel like I'm the only one who was excited to see Waylon but that's okay cause I got enough excitement for everyone. Love to see my mans kicking the shit out of potential perverts. You go, Waylon!

Dick, Jason, Steph, and Carrie. Definitely an interesting combination. But it's also so nice to see a Jason who grew up in a different environment and is therefore adorable with no rage in his heart. As opposed to Carrie who was ready to kick some ass. The ending to episode 8 really understood Batman, what with him saying he can't leave her there, carrying her and shielding her under the cape, and then asking about her later.

The Harvey bit is kinda cool but 1, I've always been iffy on the shotty DID stuff and 2, I think they coulda gone further. Just watch The Long Halloween for a better Two Face plot.

I like Harvey helping that guy get his stuffed animal back. That was a nice small character moment. If we had more stuff like that and Bruce being unable to confess his emotions to Alfred, I think this whole thing would be better. This one made up for episode 7's little message by having Barbara tell Harvey that it's not so cut and dry and that he deserves help too. I'm glad they went back to that after the whole "sometimes things are black and white" bit. Batman is about helping people just as much as Superman is and I feel like sending a message that "nope, bad is bad and he should just punch people" doesn't fit the entire thesis of Batman.

This finale really encapsulates how this show doesn't quite understand the character of Batman. It may be comic-accurate for him to be an asshole and put on the voice randomly, treat Alfred like crap, and randomly break character with stuff like "don't start growing a conscience now, Dent" but as I said it goes against the whole thesis. This is more along the lines of the Nolan films with the "Bruce Wayne is the mask" bit. And we all know how I feel about those films.

And then it ends on a boring cliffhanger with the boss guy and then a shitty Joker teaser. Boo.

In short, this show is good but it's not anything special. I do really like the classic Batman aesthetic, but that's pretty much it. It doesn't really understand the characters like MAWS and WFA, the overarching plot is kind of uninteresting and it doesn't feel like we're building up to something great. I feel like this show really wanted to use the episodic style to take a look at all these different elements of Gotham's world with references to existing characters and aspects. But whereas MAWS smoothly slid those into its narrative and setting, this just kinda feels like a villain of the week show instead of working towards this grand narrative. And that can be a good thing, I mean I'm a Scooby Doo fan for crying out loud, but in this scenario, it just doesn't work that exceptionally. If it gets a season 2, I'll probably watch it. But this isn't something I'd be excitedly waiting to see new episodes of.

[octuscle]

Hey there! I work as a therapist and a few of us were starting to think of the clinical applications of chronivac. We were wondering if you wanted to work together to develop some presets that our clients could use to de-stress and take a break from their stressful lives. I know we have one stressed out university student who could benefit from something like this.

At Chronivac, we are always interested in collaborating with research institutions. After all, Chronivac is not used just to have fun. It is already being used for the treatment of various physical illnesses and also for resocialization projects. The use in the psychotherapeutic field would be new, but sounds interesting according to the research and development department. If the student they are talking about is available as a guinea pig, perhaps send us a requirements profile for a transformation. And we'll see what we can do….

Research Diary Timothy Walker

Day One: My psychotherapist tells me that my burn-out syndrome has progressed to the point that continuing my business studies is out of the question at this point. In fact, I am having a hard time concentrating. Writing this report is causing me great difficulty; my attention span is only a few minutes. Therefore, an experimental therapy has been decided with the psychology faculty, which is connected with a semester off for me. Under certain circumstances, the semester can be counted as an internship. Everything is fine with me. I am just tired. The work on the research diary was exhausting for me. I need to lie down.

Second day: I slept very well. No wild nightmares as usual. I woke up briefly once or twice at most, but went right back to sleep. Michael, who is in charge of the project as pysiotherapist, thinks that this would be a good starting point to work on my physical fitness. We both went running for an hour. I'm exhausted, I haven't moved that much since I started studying. But I feel good. Made myself a real breakfast for the first time in months according to my new nutrition plan. I'm supposed to spend the rest of the day walking on the beach. Let's see if that clears my head.

Third day: Before Michael came for the training session, I was already in the gym for an hour. I'm really enjoying the physical activity. The beach walk yesterday was great. And Michael was thrilled to see the progress I'm making in terms of fitness. Had the first session with my creativity coach today. Seems a little silly to me. But imagining what I would be doing if I weren't studying business was fun. But I have to admit, my head isn't really getting creative yet. At least writing the diary is already much easier for me.

Day four: I need new challenges. The beach run with Mike is fun, but it's not a sport. That's warming up. We discussed that I would go running alone for an hour tomorrow and that we would meet in the gym of the therapy center. I'm supposed to come without a T-shirt. Mike wants me to learn to love my body. To be honest, I already do. I've already jerked off twice today. And think about sex a lot more than usual. Mike also comes in the process. My creative trainer is also quite cute, but he's too skinny for me. I like men who have a lot of muscle on them.

Fifth day: Fuck, the workout with Mike is awesome! I love the gym from the first minute. Yes, the beach feels my home. But the gym is the place that prepares me for that home. Working out shirtless makes the workout even more intense. i can't get enough of Mike's and my sweat beading on our pecs. But I'm so horny. All the time. During the creative training with Kev it just bubbled out of me today. I would so love to be a lifeguard. Maybe not all the time. But on vacation. And on the weekends. The idea made me even hornier. Poor Kev. He's not my type, but I had to nail him during practice. No idea when I last had sex. but this first time in a long time was incredibly intense. Thank God Kev felt the same way….

Day six: Today is uh free day at da therapy center. Mike n kev are already down at da beach, I wanted to pump up da muscles beforehand. I'm looking forward to da sea n da sand. Both make my head so free. Although I wouldn't feel like my head wuz overly full right now anyway. Pumping, fucking, jogging n swimming. That's really all I'm thinking about right now. Kevin says that I certainly wouldn't have to worry about da practical entrance exams for lifeguards. But I shouldn't underestimate da theory. Shit, studying sucks. But I guess it haz to be.

Day seven: I like it when I have da early shift. Da routine of opening da station is relaxing, da beach is still quiet, da few guests are usually relaxed n in uh gud mood. Wuz one of da best ideas of my life to take uh semester off n work as uh lifeguard. My pal mikey told me to lay off this crappy journal. Somehow I thought it wuz important until now. I can't remember why, either. Anyway. Da main thing is that da surf is gud. Den you can have some fun with da surfers afta work. Hehehehe…

[ikeromantic]

congrats on 1k!!! you are such a good writer and u genuinely deserve thousands of more too

for the request, can i ask for masamune, envy, and 🥸

Masamune is so much fun. Playful and bashful and reckless. Mmmmmm ^_^ Approx. 900 words of a silly, sweet, slightly spicy, envious warlord.

Masamune tried to snuggle closer to his wife in bed, but the moment he moved, there was an unhappy feline huff. Shogetsu gave him a disapproving look.

The tiger cub was nestled in the chatelaine’s arms as she slept, and had no intention of moving. Masamune glared at the cub and pointed to the cat bed in the corner but Shogetsu just closed his eyes and ignored the warlord entirely.

The next day, Masamune had pretty much forgotten his annoyance with the precocious cat. There were too many other things to worry about, after all. A fire in one of his territories, an irrigation project, and so on. He took a break around midday to go check on his beloved, and found her lounging in one of the cool upstairs porches. 

The chatelaine looked up at him from where she sat, book in hand. Her face lit up at seeing him. “Masamune! I thought you were going to be busy today!”

“I’m never too busy for you, kitten.” He leaned down to kiss her and almost got swiped by a tiger cub paw. Shogetsu was nestled in her lap and was playfully guarding his mistress.

She bopped the cub on the nose. “No! Bad kitty!” 

Shogetsu let out an affronted squeaky little roar and then rolled over to show his belly. 

Of course, it was impossible to stay mad at him when he did this and he knew it. Weaponized cuteness. The chatelaine struggled to keep her severe look, but a smile broke through and a moment later she was giving the tiger belly-rubs. 

Masamune chuckled. “I don’t think he learned his lesson, lass.”

She looked up, “Hmm? I didn’t catch that.”

“It’s not important. I’m glad to see you’re relaxed and enjoying yourself.” He grinned, though to be honest he was feeling a little jealous. Apparently it was better to be a cat than a husband. 

“Yeah, me and Shogestsu have been hanging out all morning. We went for a garden walk, ate breakfast and now he’s mostly napping. Must be nice to be a cat!”

“You tell me, kitten.” He reached down to muss her hair, avoiding another swipe by the tiger cub. 

“Shogetsu!” They both scolded in tandem.

The cub put a paw over his nose and refused to look up at either of them. 

“Awwww,” The chatelaine cooed at the cat and scratched behind his ears. 

Masamune felt a small spike of annoyance. He wanted to spend time with his wife, without the interference of a certain spunky cub. “I need to get back to my duties,” he told her, “But tonight, you’re all mine, lass. Got it?”

“Got it,” she grinned. 

He went back to his office and got back to reading reports and sending out orders. This kind of work almost made him wish for war. At least in battle, you faced your opponent directly and cut him down with a sword. Administering his lands meant facing enemies with no such simple solution. A never-ending conflict with no clear winner and no way to set the work down.

The day was tiring, but even with all that crowded his thoughts and demanded his attention, a kernel of him held onto anticipation for the night ahead. He thought with the chatelaine by his side, he could survive anything, even endless bureaucracy. 

Masamune sent a servant scurrying to get everything ready. A romantic, perfect meal, and an undisturbed evening. He could not wait. 

When he was finally able to put away his work, he met with the castle servants to finish his preparations for the evening. They handed everything over to him, and promised no interruptions unless it was an emergency. 

He would have preferred to cook for her himself, but a well prepared meal from the castle cooks was the next best thing. Masamune changed clothes, picked up the tray and headed to his rooms. 

As he slid the door open, his wife looked up from her embroidery. Her expression slid from pleasure to surprise and laughter. “Masamune! What are you wearing? Are those . . . cat ears?”

He gestured to where Shogetsu lay in her lap, lazily toying with a scrap bit of fabric. “I decided since my lovely lass likes cuddling kitties, I would be your tiger tonight.” Masamune lifted Shogetsu out of her lap and set him in the hall. He shut the door firmly and turned his attention to his lass. “You’re all mine now.”

She laughed and set her embroidery to the side. “You really were jealous of the cat!” 

“Maybe,” he admitted a little gruffly, his playful demeanor falling away for a moment. 

“Come here, tiger boy. I’ll make you purr.” She giggled and patted her lap. 

Masamune grinned. He loved her laughter and her smiles. “Who says I want to purr?” He pounced on her, lowering her back to the floor to pin her beneath him. “Maybe I’ll just eat you up,” he told her as he nuzzled her neck.

She kissed his cheek. “Who says we can’t do both? Hm?” 

He nipped at her ear. “At the same time even.” Masamune’s hand went to the ribbon securing the silly ‘tiger’ ears on his head but she stopped him. 

“No, no. Keep those on. You’re adorable in this disguise.” Her fingers combed through his hair and lightly over the fabric cat ears. 

Masamune felt his cheeks heat. “If you like them . . .” Then he laughed. Only this mad, beautiful woman could make him blush. No matter how many times they made love, she was always new and wonderful in his eyes. 

“Maybe I need a pair too?” She made a happy sound as he kissed down to the hollow of her throat, his fingers busily undoing her kimono. 

“Maybe you do,” he agreed. “My naughty kitten.”

“My wicked one-eyed tiger.”

“Just for tonight,” he grinned.

[multific]

Trainers

Owen Grady x Reader

Summary: You are the trainer of the Mosasaurus, you have been working with her since she was a tiny little thing. So, you don’t appreciate when another trainer is asked to check on the work you have been doing.

 You understood that Claire wanted results. But they never understood that a creature such as a dinosaur is not as easy to train as a dog. Nevertheless, when the owner of the park specifically asked for you to be the caretaker of the Mosasaurus, you just knew you had to accept. Being a well respected Marine Biologist in your field, you loved the different challenge this would bring. Although you had to do a lot of studying. You would normally focus on a lot of species, so only having to deal with one animal was quite different. 

When you first saw her, you knew, you understood just how special she really was and you fell in love with the tiny being. Well, back then she was the size of an alligator, but then she grew into her normal size. She got huge. Even her tank spoke to itself.

Momo was chosen to do one of trick for the public. To eat a shark from a hook, splashing water onto the crowd. You knew she wasn’t a circus animal. You understood that, but since you two spent so much time together, a bond formed between you two. And you were more than surprised when she listened to you. 

One late night you were sitting by her tank, looking at her as she swam around. This was all she knew, the water, the hook and you. You often went to the Underwater Observatory where you can look into her tank through the glass. You spoke to her days on end as you just sat there after you finished with your work for the day. 

And one day, it happened.

Just like a dolphin show, you were talking and motioning around and when you moved your hand up as an expression, she jumped out of the water. The very first instant this happened, you didn’t pay much mind to it, thinking it was a coincidence. But then she did it again and again. Just as you lifted your hand up each time.

Progress.

Of course, you were to report every incident, but you chose not to tell them about this new revelation. You were afraid they will exploit her for money even more.

So, as you never reported any progress, Claire decided to send another trainer in.

Owen Grady.

He was supposed to look at your work for a month. You hated being supervised like that.

“Mr. Grady, nice to meet you, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Momo’s caretaker.”

“Please just call me Owen. To be honest I’m as happy to be here as you are. I’d rather be with my girls, so please just give me a quick run through, so I can leave.” 

“Okay...But, Owen. Claire said that you are to watch me for a month.”

“A MONTH? She didn’t mention that to me. Or I wasn’t listening. Probably the latter.” he made you laugh a little. Maybe it was better that he was the one who was sent and not some uptight ass. 

“Alright. So, it’s hard to miss her tank, or her. She eats a lot. There are public feedings, every two hour she gets a shark. I have been with her since she was born. Little thing she was. She is very stubborn, but I did hand feed her in her early years. She gave me a lovely scar too. From my wrist to my pinky on my left hand.” you showed him the scar. “Silly mistake. But I learned from it.”

“Do you talk to her?”

“I do. Steve thinks I’m mental, since she is under water, she wouldn’t hear. But I like to think that she somehow feels that I talk to her you know?”

He nodded and looked around, then up. He noticed a long walking platform way up high. 

“What’s that?” you looked up where he was looking.

“That is the new idea. Guests would be able to go up there and watch her from there. But they are not sure if she can jump that high, so it’s still not very safe. Although I told them that she wouldn’t be able to, they want to be safe. We can go up if you want to.”

You hated being up there, your fear of heights didn’t help you either. 

“You okay there?” Owen asked as he watched you taking deep breaths and your hands gripping the railing.

“No. I hate it up here.”

“Then why did you suggest to come up?” he laughed.

“I don’t know. It was silly. Can you see her?”

“Yes. She is...swimming. Shockingly. She is 84 feet long and she weights over 30,000 lbs, when the last time we checked. She is rather calm. Prefers to swim around and eats when she is supposed to. She is not socialized with other dinos, considering that the majority would drown in her enclosure. Can we go down now, please?”

Owen stood there, looking at the huge water monster swimming right below him. Then he looked up at you, and gave you a nod.

***

Owen has been working with you for the last week. He gave many ideas on what to do and how to earn their trust.

You also didn’t fail to notice how muscular and handsome he was. 

Each morning he arrived on his bike, looking sexy as can be. And every day he observed you. He watched as you said hi to her every morning, said how you liked to make sure her food was correctly prepared. It was obvious for him that you cared about the Mosasaurus very much. 

Owen wasn’t sure what else they wanted from the dino himself, He knew they created her as an amusement for viewers as a feeding show and nothing more. So, then why did Claire wanted him to come here and watch over you. As far as he was concerned, this particular dino wasn’t even the need of a caretaker. She just swam around and ate sharks as an attraction. He suspected there was something more behind the story he had been told. 

Owen admittedly loved the Underwater Observatory. It was cool down there, not only the weather, but they you can look into the enclosure and watch the majestic beast.

He also took a liking to it’s trainer. Even if he wasn’t sure what you were training the dino to do.

“How about tomorrow you come over to the raptors? I can show them off for you like you did with Momo.” Owen came up with the idea on his second week during lunch time.

“Oh, sure. I would like to.” Little did he know that you showed the very least to him.

During his two weeks, Owen and you formed some kind of friendship. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t like him, even if you knew about the rumors about his dating methods. But he never once hinted on anything with you. Or you just didn’t notice. Which was also a possibility, you were quite oblivious with men.

So, the next day after making sure that Momo was all set and healthy, we headed to the raptors. 

Although I wasn’t that interested in land species, his four girls amazed you. 

“Wow. they listen to you so well.” you said smiling at him as you watched the four inside the paddock. 

Owen looked very proud of himself. 

You spent all day at the velociraptor paddock. Owen told you about the plans that they had. And it was exactly what you feared would happen to your girl.

Exploiting them for military or personal gain. 

The thought disgusted you.

These were amazing creatures. In your opinion you should be learning from them, and not using them for war.

In the evening, everyone has left, you and Owen were still at the raptors’ paddock. You looked down at them running around.

“I don’t want Momo to have the same fate. Military? Really? That’s what we are doing now? These creatures are amazing, beautiful. Even the fact that we keep them on display is rather disgusting let alone using them as weapons.”

“I agree with you. But I can also see how they would be able to save many lives. Men and women.”

“But they will never be able to control them like that. Not by their own free will. It takes time. You have known them since they were little. Momo is... she is basically an attraction to them, nothing more. They wanted me to each her tricks. Like she was a fucking pony. Jumping through loops and whatnot. And when I refused, they threatened to throw me out. So, I had to come up with something. Telling them that she is not able to do such things. Even if it’s a lie.” you eyes widened at what you just said. You just confessed your greatest secret. 

“What do you mean lie? So, she can jump?” you panicked a little but his calm demeanor helped you a little.

“S-She can. Not as high as those railings go but...She can. Oh, Owen, please don’t tell Claire. They will make her into a complete circus animal, more than she already is.” you didn’t even realize but you were so desperate that you grabbed his forearm, pleading with him.

“I won’t. I promise. I decided on my second day over there that I will tell her that you are taking a good care of her and that a Mosasaurus is not a dolphin you can teach tricks to. But I’m clearly wrong. Could you show me?”

You were soon standing by her tank. Owen looked down at the water.

“I never understood. If she can get the shark from there, why doesn’t she jump out to get the guests?”

“Well, one, they are too small, so she is not interested and two, her species main food source comes from the water or from above such as flying dinosaurs. But as you can see her water is lower than the path, they made this safe so she wouldn’t jump out and eat guests.”

“I see. So how does this work? I don’t guess that you whistle to her.” Owen said as he stood next to you.

“No. I just...” it was easier to show him, so you reached your hand out as far as you could before moving it up.

And just as you did, she jumped out of the water and back in, as elegantly as a dino of her size possibly could. 

“Wow.” Owen watched as the water splashed neither of you cared that you were soaked.

“One night. I was talking to her. And as I moved my hand, she started doing things. She can also spin, but that looked better down under the water.”

“She listens to you.”

“I like to think that if I was to fall into the water one day, she won’t eat me immediately, but I might be too naïve.” Owen looked at you and all he could think is how beautiful you looked.

“This really is something else. You must have an amazing bond.” you smiled at Owen who got your now soaked wet hair out of your face. He slowly leaned down and was about to place his lips on yours when another sudden splash of water interrupted him. He groaned and as he looked down at the water noticed Momo slowly descending into the water. 

You only laughed at the annoyed expression on Owen’s face.

“Maybe take me on a date first, Mr. Grady, I think then she will approve.” you said as he finally looked back at you.

His eyes softened.

Maybe you will thank Claire later for sending Owen over. Who could have thought that two trainers would find each other on an island like that? 

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[theroomofreq]

can you give me muggle jily recs pleaaseeee <3 :D

HOW MANY HIGH-QUALITY MUGGLE JILY FICS ARE THERE?? TOO MANY TO COUNT. *cracks knuckles* BUT I am here for the challenge. Jily AUs are my JAM.

Again, shoutout to our amazing @jilyarchive friends who tag every wonderful muggle jily au they come across. here is the link that will take you to their tags page. You'll find links to specific tropes and AUs :')

I've searched through my own AO3 bookmarks and history tabs, and I present to you 28 jily muggle fics that I LOVE. I am THRILLED thinking about all the good things in store for those that read these wonderful stories. This list took me ages to make because I went through and reread most of these brilliant fics. Happy reading !! xx

properly improper by @lizardcookie

“Marry me,” Mr. Potter repeats, closing the distance between them by striding back up towards the sofa, only to stop and crouch to one knee right there at her feet, looking up at her. Burning. “Pick me,” he elaborates. “Pick me, choose me, love me instead.”

- this fic is the reason why I comment the way that I do (spoiler it's because it's amazing)

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl

What is undeniably worse than attending your sister's wedding looking as desolate and forgotten as a wilted houseplant? Drunkenly ringing your ex-boyfriend and asking him to be your date.

- SOBS UNCONTROLLABLY AT THE PERFECTION

Oh my god, they were ROOMMATES by @magic-girl-in-a-muggle-world

Silly one-shot, Muggle AU with Fem!Jily as pining roommates and Marlene as their matchmaker.

- the fic that brought me back to jily and inspired my deep obsession of fem!jily

Swipe Right, Swing Left by @downn-in-flames

The unspoken rule of using dating apps in D.C. is that you always start with where you work.

James Potter, it seems, never picked up on that one.

- giddy just thinking about this gem

'Tis the Damn Season by @petalstofish

It doesn't feel like Christmas for Lily Evans, not after losing her parents to COVID before the Holiday season. She anticipates spending Christmas all alone until a boy from her past shows up and offers her a mutually benefiting deal that has her calling him 'babe' just for the weekend. 'Tis the damn season, after all.

- cries in respect for lyrical writing

Watch Me Unwind by @maraudersftw

Lily Evans hates her job, hates the bigoted customers she has to serve as a bartender at the richest club in the city. But the one person who makes bearing all of it worth it has someone else in his arms tonight. (Rated: M)

- obsessed with the way the plot jumps around the time line in this

oil be there for you by @abby10fanfic

Texting/Social Media AU: Lily and James haven't spoken for 2 years. But that's all about to change thanks to Peter and his involvement in an essential oil pyramid scheme. Featuring boss babes, toxin-free lifestyles, binding contracts, and a very oily journey.

- YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW FAB THIS IS

a matchmaking mission by @downn-in-flames

James Potter has a mission: get Sirius Black and Remus Lupin to finally admit that they both fancy the pants off each other by Valentine's Day.

His partner in crime? Lily Evans, Remus' flatmate, who he also happens to be slightly in love with

- DOUBLE the amount of pining idiots in love :")

about time by @jilyss

'sure, yeah, I can accompany you to that black tie event for your work tonight. wait. why are we on a red carpet?'

- this is my emotional comfort fic, your honor

whiskey business by @elanev91

Sirius Black has a (bad?) habit of picking up hobbies that take over his and James' flat -- this most recent one? Homemade vodka that James now has to try and peddle to everyone in the building.

- hysterical! must read!

Fashion Disaster by @maraudersftw

James Potter is roped into an awful dare by his best-mate, which involves him wearing atrocious pieces of clothing for all days until Christmas as dictated by Sirius. If this wasn't terrible enough, he now has to contend with his maddening crush on the beautiful saleswoman at the clothing store.

- classic hijinks that I live for

it wasn't a pity invite by @elanev91

Part of the December "Winter Tropes" Jily challenge. Prompt: my family invites you to join our holiday meal as an obvious setup and omG i’m so sorry

- awkward Christmas date that owns my heart

spice and honey by @clare-with-no-i

tagging along with her food reporter sister to profile James Potter, London's hottest young chef, is not how Lily Evans pictured her Monday going - especially if he's anything like Petunia’s described.

needless to say, she's in for a whirlwind at Chez Maraudeur.

- I'm one re-read away from printing this out and putting it on my bookshelf.

Waffle Wars by @elanev91

There's only one waffle maker in the dining hall and it literally always breaks. So, naturally, the only reasonable course of action is to meticulously map out when it's working and, ultimately, do a heist.

- the witty narration in this fic can not be matched

You Can Hear It In The Silence by @alrightginger

Lily is non-verbal and deaf in a world where the things your soulmate says about you end up written on your skin. She has known about her soulmate since she was seven, but knows they don't have a clue she exists and possibly never will.

- exquisite, cue me sobbing forever

out the window by @displayheartcode

A new family moves to Ottery St Catchpole.

- everything I could ever want in a fic, forever in my mind rent free

The Christmas Guest by @thegodmachine

An Evans Family Christmas: Petunia is bringing her fiancé and Lily is bringing her…Friend…

- petunia pov that gives me WINGS

Football, Calculus, and Cappuccinos by @moonawrites

At eighteen years old, James Potter has a lot going on. He's a rising star navigating the politics of professional football, the pitfalls of sudden fame, the fallout from choosing his dream over his father's company... and a serious crush on the red headed new barista at his favourite coffee shop.

- I'm still working my way through this fic, but trust me when I say its a GEM

if u like pina coladas by @zephyrcove

Lily is desperate for a date to Petunia's wedding, James has been pining, and their friends meddle ;)

- explain to me how characters can be so perfect via texting fics?

Shelf Awareness by @ghostofbambifanfiction

It's too far out of her way and she's wasting so much money, but Lily can't help but return to the bookstore every weekend, where her passion for good literature has, perhaps, been unexpectedly reignited by the messy-haired, pun-making, rather handsome bloke who works there.

- you absolutely must know that I binge read this and then immediately REREAD it

How to win a witch in 10 days by @adenei

“She’s going to find some unsuspecting wizard, get him to fall for her, and then do all the things that turn men away to get him to break things off! Won’t it be the best way to see what witches do that drives men crazy?” But what happens when the man in question is a blast from Lily Evans's past? A Jily Magical AU based on the romantic comedy "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."

- fic based off of a rom com? YES PLZ :’)

The Fight Before Christmas by @ghostofbambifanfiction

The heartwarming Christmas tale of Lily Evans and James Potter - two plucky kids who hated one other, until the day they really, really didn't.

- complete sucker for this one

All This Time by @thejilyship

James and Lily grew up next door to one another. Their bedroom windows giving them glimpses into the others life, and also offering prime opportunities to argue with each other over every little thing. They never figured out how to be friends when they were kids, but now that they've graduated from college and are home for the summer, they have a second chance to get things right.

- one of my favvvv tropes

Let Me Love You by @thejilyship

With only a month until she's set to take the throne of Gryffindor, Lily is informed that she'll have to get married or choose to give up her throne. She never thought she'd have to even entertain the idea of an arranged marriage. Enter, James Potter.

- cries in princess diares AU

The Fabulous Baker Brothers by @frustratedpoetwrites

Lily walks a different route home from work and stumbles upon a cute little Bakery with an even cuter baker in the window.

- yes yes yes to embarrassed pining.

Marigold Mornings by @mppmaraudergirl

This is a fun game she thinks, as she removes her hand from his side and reaches up to run it down his chest.  He catches her hand in his own, takes a step forward so that her nose nearly brushes against his shirt. She can feel the heat radiating off of him—or maybe it’s from her. He licks his lips and her eyes are drawn to the motion.  She knows it is a bad idea, absolutely knows it.

- incredible storytelling featuring dynamic characters :') a favvv

Welcome to Pettyville by@women-inthe-sequel @alrightginger

When Lily Evans accidentally sends a text to the wrong number, she isn’t expecting to find the right person behind it. She can’t stop talking to Prongs. The only thing is, Prongs can’t stop talking about the girl in his class. What could go wrong, other than the number?

- LOVE SQUARE ANYONE

The Kiss a Stranger Project by @alrightginger

“What’s your name, then?” she asks, realizing they haven’t even properly introduced themselves yet. She nervously crosses her arms.

You shouldn’t kiss a guy without knowing his name first.

Right?

- THIS ONE WILL LIVE IN MY MIND FOREVER

[giorno-plays-piano]

Vicious

Part IV

Pairing: Steve x reader, Bucky x reader, Thor x reader, Loki x reader, Peter x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, stalking, possessiveness, theft, all characters are adults.

Words: 1880.

Summary: Transferring to Stark Academy that has only allowed to take in female students last semester, you realize you are just one of three young women among hundreds of students. Your things are constantly being stolen, and soon you begin fearing for your safety.

Part I

Part II

Part III

_________

After you came back to your room, you got a message from Steve about changing the locks on both you door and your locker. You were so taken aback by today's conversation in the student council room that you had completely forgotten about it. Apparently, Steve had already requested the change of locks on your behalf through email, and you were really grateful to him for that: you dreaded coming back to the room that had been forced open. Of course, tonight you would have to move your dresser to the door so that nobody could enter when you'd be sleeping.

Shit. It was absolutely crazy.

"I'm not sure about all this, Steve." You texted him while laying on your bed and staring at your phone in the darkness of the room. "It doesn't seem right."

Naturally, you meant the fake dating thing. It felt horrible thinking of what others would think after seeing you with five different guys. Would they be calling you a whore in the open? Make some nasty jokes behind your back? Report you to the school administration for immoral behavior? Remembering those bigots from the student office, you cringed at the thought.

Besides, it still didn't make sense to you why you had to date all five. Sure, if they were around you at all times like your friends, these unhinged bastards who stole your things wouldn't do anything funny again, but it wasn't like that. What could one guy do against a group of other students?

"Listen, I didn't want to talk about it in class, but I'm worried it won't end with a stolen lingerie."

You didn't like his message.

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean. They might attempt something much worse than a theft."

Oh no. Was he talking about rape? Seriously? Did he anticipate others were so crazy they would do something like that?

But then again, girls were being raped in colleges even if it weren't the all-boys schools. A shiver ran down your spine.

"But if several people attack me, just one of you won't be enough." You typed with your shaky fingers, trembling beneath your blanket.

"It's not about the pure force. Each of us has a certain reputation, and others wouldn't want to cross us over because of it."

Wait, this was interesting. What on Earth did he mean? What kind of reputation was that to prevent people from messing with them?

"Thor is a good athlete and a great leader, his basketball team is ready to beat people to death for him."

"Loki's father is one of academy’s main sponsors, and he can have this school turned upside down if he wants to."

"Bucky is a threat by himself, but he also have a company of loyal friends."

"I don't think Peter is serious enough to scare anyone, but with his computer skills he could easily blackmail others, I’ve already seen him doing it. Students would be wary to cross him over just like any of us."

Steve was writing you a bunch of messages with a terrifying speed, and you could barely read the first when he was already sending you the second. It felt absolutely insane. Did he choose every guy because the more powerful admirers you have, the less others would intervene? Well, at least in case of Bucky and Thor who could beat people to near death, it was wise. You preferred not to think of Peter - you had no idea someone as sweet and caring as him did something as disgusting as a blackmail.

“But what others will think? 5 boyfriends? Others will think you are dating-” you paused, chewing your lips to bit, “- a whore. Nobody gonna stood up for me.”

"Imagine if each of us tells our friends that other four guys were just asked to watch over you, but you date only one.”

Oh. Yes, this was slightly better. Then you wouldn’t have to do something as bold as kissing every guy in public, instead maintaining the mystery who you were really dating. 

Damn, how Steve even came up with this plan? Why was everything so complicated?

“It’s getting late. Good night.” Your phone vibrated again, and you huffed with irritation. You hoped you could ask him a bit more - about what you were going to do with the thieves Steve found, for example - but he was probably getting tired with all your questions. It was better to ask him tomorrow.

___________________

The next morning you were restless: since you were starting to going out with guys, you felt like you needed to look better than you usually were, so you spent your morning working on your hair and makeup. It was like fake dating, right? You had to pretend you wanted to look pretty for them.

What else did you have to do? Cook something sweet for them? Yeah, probably, but not at the start of your relationship. Going to cafe together? Helping each other study? Loki also mentioned the cinema...

You felt dumb. Of course, you dated guys before, but now you realized you had no idea how to act not to cause any suspicion. Oh boy, it was going to be a tough day.

Thor nocked at you door thirty minutes before your first session, but you woke up so early you were more than ready to go. As you opened the door, first moving the dresser back to its place, the guy looked at you with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Hey, what was that?"

"The dresser. I can't leave the door just like that until the lock is changed."

He blinked at you, watching the door and then probably remembering somebody forced the lock open to steal your underwear.

"These guys are batshit crazy." He mumbled and nodded you to go with him, putting his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, they won't do it again."

You wanted to argue they definitely would, but, seeing his warm smile, you thought Thor simply wanted to cheer you up and smiled at him in return. In the end, he was here only to make you feel safer: you didn't doubt he was very popular with the girls every time he went out to the city.

"You look great today!" He said sheepishly, walking in the dorm's corridor while other students were staring at him silently, obviously surprised to see you two together. "I mean, not that you looked bad yesterday, I just..."

Watching his face suddenly getting crimson red, you couldn't help but giggle at his expression. You could never think Thor was actually bashful around girls. Yeah, at your old place he'd definitely be one of the most popular guys around.

It was lunch time when you two could actually talk, sitting together at the same table and being watched by everyone around. Strangely, with Thor constantly talking and often rubbing your hand with his, it didn't feel suffocating, and you held your head high: regardless whether those pricks were looking at you, you weren't going to run away to your room and cry there like a little girl. Loki was right: you weren't a silly little sheep, scared of your own shadow. You wouldn't let anyone spoil your time in the academy you dreamt studying in.

Funny enough, Thor turned out to be a talkative type when he was speaking about basketball and his team in particular. He loved sports: while you were more into hockey, the way he talked was so enthusiastic it made you listen to him with a genuine interest. Thor's love for basketball was infectious.

He seemed a simple man, this giant bag of muscles who was laughing so loud people around him flinched; Thor wasn't the exact type of a guy you would encounter on your own, but he seemed nice, sincere, and surprisingly softhearted. You felt at ease talking to him, and soon you too acted like you'd known each other for long.

It was a pity you'd only met under this circumstances. It felt like you two could became friends.

But then when Thor absent-mindedly put his arm around your shoulders, you remembered Loki's warning: they would try to gain your favors. Was it the reason Thor was so nice to someone he just met? Wasn't it suspicious of him? You couldn't let your guard down after just one lunch together. In fact, you knew nothing of the man sitting in front of you.

"I knew something like would happen." Some guy to your left sighed loudly, catching your attention. "They were fucking crazy."

"I'm not surprised either. I just wanna know who they got in a fight with to be beaten like that. Have you heard they broke Gray's both legs?"

"Woah, both? That's brutal, man."

You shivered, trying not to listen to them.

"It'd happen sooner or later anyway. They were completely wild."

A word caught your attention right away: that was what Steve called those students who were stealing your things. Could it be a coincidence? Surely, in an all-boys school the students were fighting each other constantly.

But to the point of breaking both legs of someone? Really?

As you sent Thor a nervous look, he gently patted your shoulder, lowering his voice so no one would hear him, "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. These things happen here from time to time because the guys have no idea what to do with all that testosterone."

You hoped he was right.

The rest of the day went as usual aside from Thor walking the corridors with you and chatting about sports: he managed to convince you to come see the game next month when they would be having a tournament. You were grateful to him for helping to ease your mind because the news of guys being sent to the ambulance made you shook. Steve also mentioned something about his and other's friends ready to beat anyone to death, right?

By the middle of your last class you couldn't think of it any longer and quickly typed a message to Loki. Of all people, right now he seemed the most sincere to you.

"Hi. Are the guys who were beaten last night are the ones who stole my things?"

Waiting was a special torture when you held the phone in your arms beneath your desk, hoping to see your screen lighting up with a message. In five minutes you got your reply.

"Yes." The message said simply, but it was enough for you to stare at your phone with horror, wishing you didn't ask Loki anything.

Oh shit. It wasn't a coincidence, right? It's impossible. Somebody did it on purpose. But who of the five?

"Do you know who did it?"

Next time he answered pretty fast, "No."

A part of you felt relieved. Maybe it wasn't related, finally. Maybe they got beaten by somebody who was fed up with their attitude because they were crazy as the guys in the cafeteria said.

But what if it weren't true?

"Who's the most brutal among you five?"

Biting your lips, you started rocking in your chair a little, making the guy on your left to roll his eyes in irritation.

The phone's screen flashed again.

"Barnes."

Part V

_________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin ​@inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherub @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @sourpatchspinster @biiskuitx @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @vampirestrawberries @stupendouslovegardener @goodgodimaweirdperson @frontmanash @freya-heya @yandematic

[dazed--xx]

Sold Your Soul

Request: Ooh could I request Yandere!Sugar Daddy! Seokjin¿

Member: HARD Yandere!sadist Jin x Reader

Genre: angst, yandere, (implied smut)

Word Count: 1,590

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Abuse, manipulation, pressured sex, handcuffed to a bed, hair pulling, name calling, whatever else I forgot to put sorry guys  

A/N:  MY FIRST JIN FIC thank you to the beautifully dark and non-descriptive soul for sending in this request, I hope you enjoy it and this finds you, I DO NOT CONSENT TO THIS BEHAVIOR IF YOU ARE BEING ABUSED GET HELP, PLEASE. And with that being said send in more requests  

Summary: Kim Seokjin, V.P. of Kim industries, powerful, wealthy, and charming. The sweetest heir to the Kim enterprise according to the public. You believed it, his overwhelming charm and confidence the mask for the demon within. Jīn has gotten whatever he wanted, and he wants you. With your contract only days from ending, Jin declares you’ve violated the contract and now you belong to him. Permanently.  

(not my gif)

Month 5 day 22 10:42 pm

If anyone was to ask you how the past 5 months 22 days have been you’d say a secret nightmare, your provider was a ruthless and spoiled man. The onlookers would say you were lucky, the heir to Kim Enterprises was spoiling you with riches, paying your tuition, etc... The soft glow on his skin, his plump lips, his soft fragile image of the perfect son in the perfect family had shattered within 2 months. The abuse of his power and wealth over you, use of your safe word during sexual punishment would result in financial punishment. If you would have read the fine print in your contract with him you wouldn’t be handcuffed to his headboard as he released his anger, at his words “your betrayal”. Only hours ago, he was losing himself inside you, holding you in his arms fingers lightly tracing circles on your arms. How did you end up here?

*flashback*

Your hands curled around the bottom seam of your skirt griping it tightly. Your entire body shaking as the driver pulled to a stop in front of the large office building. Your mouth completely dries itself up. “Miss y/l/n Mr. Kim has requested you inform his assistant you have arrived from the front desk give them your name, then proceed to the 16th floor Mr. Kim's assistant will meet you right off the elevator she will give you further instructions. Have a nice day” his driver speaks soft and swiftly.  

You shakily eye the building. Taking a soft nervous step your breath hitches in your throat. As you step into the building you look around everything seems to happen in the blink of an eye and soon you were rushed into his office. You turned to close the door behind you and you stared at the closed door in front of you and your hand stayed frozen on the handle.  

“You can leave if you'd like but from what I know so far Miss Y/l/n you need me more than I need you” His velvety voice rang through your ears. “Come. Sit.” he said with a more commanding tone. As your eyes trailed over the luxurious office, I do not belong here you thought. Your legs acting on your own as you find your way in the chair placed in front of his desk eyes never once leaving the floor. “you're nervous” he states softly. You nod softly, a blush creeping on your face.  

You hear him lift himself off his chair and soon you can feel his hand on your shoulder, he lowers his body kneeling in front of you. “Do I make you uncomfortable y/n” his hand lifting my head to face him I shake my head “n-no sir” my meek voice barely over a whisper. “Have you read over the contract miss y/l/n?” you nod taking in his handsome features. The curve of his lips, the playful innocence in his voice. “All of it?” you nod lying to him, you dozed off reading the contract around the termination clauses. “And you're............experienced?”  

“yes, sir I'm here to please” you reached into your bag and handed him the contract. “Well miss y/l/n consider your student loans and your sisters medical expenses paid for, now that business is taken care of on your knees beautiful let's see how eager you are to please” He stated standing straight up unzipping his pants. You stared at him in shock, how did he know about your sister.

*present* -Month 5 day 22 10:23 pm

You weren't sure what you had said to set Jin off but he was livid. Your terrified state only encouraged his anger. He got off on your misery, he was enamored by the beauty of your face as tears streamed down it. The way you would shake like a chihuahua if he so much as looked at you a certain way. You had fallen into your submissive role the second you handed him the contract. He knew he loved you the moment he saw you that day walking home from work. A man in Jins position had wealth and anyone at his disposal to keep an eye on you and report back. He knew everything about you before he even presented you with the 6-month contract. Even though he had paid off all your expenses before you even knew he existed.  

He praised you when you did well, punished you when you acted out. He loved you and you loved him well he thought you loved him. As the days got closer to the 6-month mark Jin heard you making arraignments to leave his side and find another place to live. He thought it was just cold feet you were scared of your love and maybe he just needed to remind you who you belonged to and everything would be alright. Until you came to him with an apartment you had put a down payment on, wishing you could begin slowly moving your things in to adjust from the past 6 months as you put it.  

His anger only grew as you continued about the life you wished to lead after you leave him. He could only see red as his hand strikes you. He continuously shoves you back until your pressed against the wall. His hand finding its way to your throat, “who the fuck told you that you could use my own money to pay for some silly thing like an apartment, you aren't leaving y/n” he growled forcing his lips on yours “who put that stupid idea in your weak mind? Your sister? Your mother? Or are you a fucking whore y/n?” you wince as he adds pressure to your throat “that's it isn't it! Who is he? Ill fucking kill him” you look at him terrified words fighting their way out  

“NO-ONE! P-please get off me, I-I s-swear there's been no one b-but yo---’LYING BITCH WHY ELSE WOULD YOU BE SO DESPARATE TO GET AWAY FROM ME Y/N I LOVE YOU; YOU FUCKING KNOW THAT YOURE NOT LEAVING ME Y/N” He yanked your arm roughly, dragging you to your room. He grabs the handcuffs he keeps in the night stand beside the bed. Wrapping one of the cold cuffs around your wrist, he yanks it pulling you across the room. “N-no Jin please! I can be good I-I can b-be go-od p-please!” you scream as you grab onto the door.  

The pain in your wrist growing stronger. Jins face is now red “what did you call me” his voice is low the burning sensation in your wrist turning to throbbing as Jin stares at you. Your eyes widen as you force the door open, as your small figure makes it past the frame you can feel his hand in your hair, the burning sensation scratching its way through your head.  

The tears burning your eyes as you scream in pain “PLEASE HELP ME SOMEONE PLEASE!”

You fight back but its utterly useless and he handcuffs you to your headboard “I fucking help you, you piece of trash. I give you everything! Everything I have y/n, you want me you have that you want my money I’ll transfer it all to you every last cent. I've bought you clothes food trips for you and your waste of space sister, I've given you freedom and respect and all I get in return for my love and kindness is disrespect, infidelity, and used. You want to know why your other Doms got rid of you y/n?” your eyes travel from the ceiling to his face.

 The hurt evident, “it's because you’re a gold-digging whore y/n you want money and that’s it you don’t care about how people feel you don’t care about love or anything you fuck anyone that will give you a bigger pay check and leave a trail of broken hearts. But I'm not one of those men y/n I'd rather kill you than live without you” he states standing frozen in the middle of the room his hand pulling a gun out from behind his back, pointing it right at you. “so, y/n do you want to die?”  

Your heart raced as you shook your head rapidly the tears rapidly flowing down your cheeks. “N-no p-please s-sir, I-ill d-do anything” his small huffs turning into a hearty laugh as he points the gun to his head, slowly rubbing it against his temple  

“It doesn’t matter if you want to leave it doesn’t matter if you want your own apartment. You violated your part of the NDA, Y/n by exposing our relationship and arrangement to your pathetic little sister you CAN’T leave, I mean I could sue you but I already know you don’t have that kind of money. Didn’t know when to bring it up but I felt now was a good a time as any. So, you see Babygirl you belong to me and the only way you're leaving me is death either by my hand or your own” he places his body on top of yours “and I hope for your sake its by your own, you know how I like to see you cry and bleed baby” his lips capture yours as your tears mix with the taste of his tongue.  

You closed your eyes as his hard long member enters your core, erasing the misery from your mind as you breathlessly moan “sir”  

you’ve sold your soul to the devil and He’s here to collect.  

[nctsjiho]

Explode

warnings: there’s 2 swear words in there and it’s a bit angsty this one

❀ There’s some unexplained tension between the 6 youngest members of Dream and JiHo

A bunch of testosterone and very strong-willed men was a recipe for occasional conflicts. Getting into fights with your friends was never fun. It was even worse when that friend was someone you had to work with, live with and see everyday. It happened from time to time that the boys butted heads, but usually it was a very dumb and small problem which got resolved before the end of the day. (Often because other members got involved to tell them their problem was just dumb and nothing worth fighting over.)

This time however seemed like a very different situation. It wasn’t a small fight between the two youngest members about a dance move. It also wasn’t someone who was jealous of another member because they forgot about hangout plans to chill with someone else. No this time seemed a lot more serious. The older boys watched as the room filled with tension. JiHo had just walked in, not even saying as much as a hi or giving a smile. It wasn’t like her and before anyone had to ask anything they sensed the second source of the tension. The 6 youngest Dream members were all sitting together, blank to annoyed facial expressions and most uncharacteristically, not even one of them was talking.

The older boys were all exchanging questioning looks, but it was evident that no one knew what was going on. They even looked at Mark, hoping that if anyone, he’d be the one to know what was going on since he was a member of Dream after all, but alas. He seemed the most dumbfounded of them all.

Taeyong was about to speak up, but before he could one of their managers walked in, ready to brief them on their upcoming schedules.

Once the meeting was over everyone made their way over to the biggest practise room. JiHo had settled on the couch next to Kun and Yangyang, quickly putting her airpods in her ears, a clear sign she didn’t want to engage in any conversation. Since JiHo wasn’t going to talk the older boys thought that they could try prying some information out of the Dreamies. Not wanting to step on anyone’s toes though, they all agreed that Mark should talk to the boys.

He carefully approached the boys who had been talking amongst themselves and sat down in between Jisung and Jaemin. They made some small talk before Mark carefully brought up the subject. “So, did something perhaps happen? With- you know? With-...” Haechan scoffed, trying his hardest not to roll his eyes before standing up and turning to his backpack to find his bottle of water. Mark tried making eye contact with Jisung and Renjun who avoided it as if their lives depended on it. The other 3 boys just shrugged when Mark looked at them with Jeno starting to play with the strings of his hoodie.

Mark stood up defeated and went to report his lack of information to Taeyong. They decided to leave it at that for a little since neither party was going to talk and they still had a long day to go. Imagine what it would be like if their petty stare down evolved into a huge fight.

It had neared 3 pm. The members had been practising for about 2 and a half hours before they got their break. JiHo had seemed to become a lot less tense but Taeyong decided not to act on it yet. He had recruited Lucas, Johnny, Taeil and Hendery to come with him to the convenience store and grab snacks and drinks for everyone with the hopes that it would brighten up the mood and give everyone some more energy for the coming hours of practise.

What he didn’t expect was that on his arrival back at the practise room, a whole bomb would have exploded. Accusations were thrown around, and glares were being sent out. Yuta and Jaehyun were holding JiHo back while Kun, Ten, Mark and Yangyang stood by the Dreamies, Doyoung standing in the middle like some kind of referee. The other members standing off to the side, not wanting to intervene.

You’d might ask why 2 men had to hold a tiny girl back. Well Taeyong was confused as well, until he walked closer to see the deadly stares of the girl. He wondered how the younger boys hadn’t given up on yelling yet, one of those looks in Taeyong’s direction and he’d apologise straight away, even if it wasn’t his fault. JiHo was unarguably the scariest when angry, but the Dreamies were notorious for being stubborn and talkative, not backing down in the slightest.

“-if she would stop talking behind people’s backs!” Renjun had yelled. The boys who just walked in didn’t have a clue about what already had been said prior or what had ticked them off to start fighting right then and there, but their main goal now was to resolve the problem. “Oh what would you know?” JiHo scoffed, but Doyoung came to interject. “What did she say then?” “Why don’t you ask her!” Haechan argued causing Doyoung to groan. “I asked you didn’t I?” “I don’t even know what I did to get you guys so pissed of at me.” The girl was calm. Eerily calm and it send shivers down Jaehyun and Yuta’s spines who were standing next to her.

“Sure you don’t!” Haechan chuckled, not that he found it funny, he just couldn’t believe JiHo was feigning innocence right now. She rolled her eyes before turning around and walking over to the couch in the back of the room. She plopped down on it and pushed her head back against the back of the couch, her hands coming up to slowly massage her temples.

“Can someone explain-” “How dare you call Jisung a fake maknae and talk bad about him behind his back?” Jaemin had finally spoken up, his voice low. This comment shocked everyone. No way JiHo did something like that right? But before they could say anything Haechan fired another comment. “And say how Mark shouldn’t be in Dream anymore, because you’re just jealous that you’re not in Dream with us.” “Yeah! It’s not our fault you’re not getting any songs-” “What the fuck did you just say? I dare you to finish that sentence Renjun.” JiHo stood up from her seat, malice lacing her every single word.

“Wow wow wow- Guys I can’t imagine JiHo saying anything like that. It must be a misunderstanding-” Doyoung said before he once again got interrupted by the Dream members. “It’s true! We heard her say it!” Jisung said, his voice starting to crack as tears brimmed in his eyes. “JiHo?” Doyoung looked at her with hopeful eyes. “Please let this be a misunderstanding.” He thought. “Is it my fault that I didn’t get any songs to promote then?” JiHo asked, looking at Renjun, completely ignoring the question.

“Is that what’s important right now?! Jisung is crying for goodness sake! And it’s all-” Chenle started yelling but Mark silenced him. “Why would I argue about something that isn’t true?” The girl said in almost a whisper before turning towards Renjun again. “So? Is it my fault? Jaemin here gets to perform Work It with Jisung, Haechan and Jeno have 90s Love and Haechan sings From Home with you and Chenle. You guys also have Déjà Vu. Yes, maybe I’m not as great of a signer as you, or as great as a dancer as Jisung, or as great as a rapper as Mark. Maybe it’s because I’m a girl. Maybe it’s because I shouldn’t have been in NCT in the first place. But is it my fault?” Her voice was so steady and calm, causing everyone in the room to become quiet.

They all stood there for a minute, before a sob leaves Jisung’s lips. Everyone turns to look at him, but JiHo turns to grab her phone and bag planning to leave. “JiHo, wait-” “I never. ever! Said anything like that about Jisung. What you probably heard was me telling Johnny how I’m feel like the fake maknae of NCT 127. How I felt like I, NCT 127′s maknae, am just a silly excuse for an idol, and how I took Haechan’s place, while he’s 100 times a better fit for the role than I am. Oh! And that about Mark, I never said he shouldn’t come back to Dream. I was talking about how worried I was for him to join another unit because he already is in almost all of them plus SuperM. I was talking about the unit Lee Soo Man has been planning for 2021. Who would I be to tell him what to do and not to do? And yes maybe I’m jealous of you guys, but I’m not the kind of person to go behind someone’s back and talk shit. But if that’s what you think of me please go ahead.” JiHo said before putting her belongings in her bag. “Also Jisung? Thanks for trusting in Haechan so much, saying that you all ‘heard me say it’ when it was only Haechan there eavesdropping on my conversation with Johnny. I’m really happy that knowing you for all these years has build this much trust between us.” She scoffed sarcastically.

As JiHo walked out of the room she got stopped by Taeyong. “JiHo, we still have practise-” “What’s there for me to practise? I’m not in any songs anyway.” She pushed herself through the boys at the doorway before making her way to the dorm, supposedly.

With JiHo gone the boys had looked over to Johnny who sighed deeply. “I don’t wanna say it, but you guys really messed up. Everything she said was true. She was only talking about herself, she never mentioned Jisung, besides when she said she was proud of him.” The comment had sent all the Dream members over the edge, their actions finally sinking in and the severity of their accusations very clear now.

They had never meant to be so hostile towards the girl, but when they thought she had been talking badly behind their backs about one of their members, and definitely since they thought it was about Jisung, they couldn’t help but get furious. They had such a close bond and felt protective over each other. Jisung had taken the news of JiHo badmouthing him very poorly and that sparked protectiveness over the youngest from the other members. But now that they found out about what was actually said they all felt sick to their stomachs. How could they have said such awful words to her when she was already talking badly about herself? And out of all member Haechan felt the worst. How was he ever going to make things right again? What were the consequences for his actions? And how bad were they going to be?

---

Part 2

[adamfoolcry]

i hate you, i love you (k.dy)

it's valentine's day and you try your hardest not to fall back in the arms of one kim doyoung - your former boss, recluse and closed off, your fuck buddy - whom you are completely in love with.

pairings: CEO!Doyoung x Fem!Reader, Johnny x Fem!Reader rating: 18+   genre: angst and smut  warnings: swearing, explicit sexual situations - hate sex, dirty talk wc: 3k+ prompt: 'i hate you' 

a/n: This is a part of Candy Hearts Collab hosted by @127-mile . Text in blockquote are text messages.Thank you for beta reading simmi(@sly-merlin ) and indi(@ncteaxhoe​). Not proofread excuse the mistakes please contact me if you would like to do so. Enjoy! - xo aria

Doyoung:

I don't know if you'll even read this but if you do, I want you to know that what we have for two years was not a game for me. Maybe we can't start being honest with each other. When you make up your mind you know where to reach me.

Mina really knows how to dress you up to the nines, you'll give her that.

"It's not bad," you nod at your reflection approvingly as you examine the dress you wrestled yourself in, clinging to your body in the right places effectively enhancing your silhouette. The soft silky texture of satin feels exquisite against your skin however you can’t exude the confidence the dress might have channeled you with. You don’t feel grand in fact you feel the opposite;

You want to cancel the date.

"Oh for christ's sake, ______. Maybe try to put some enthusiasm into this," Mina spun you around to face her, your back to the whole body mirror where a while ago you two were examining the outfit she picked up from the back of your closet - where dressier clothing of yours reside not seeing the light of the day unless for special occasions. 

Placing both her hands on your shoulders, "You were so excited when you called me to pick something to wear. What happened?" She further inquired.

You heave a sigh, "I don't know I am just not in a mood to go out on a date with a stranger," you admitted.

Mina pulls your eyes back to hers, gleaming with determination. "You are ______, an economics major who graduated on top of her class, who landed a new job as a senior financial analyst despite being in the industry for only three years. Now repeat it," Mina orders you.

"What does it have to do with -" you rolled your eyes, and whined dramatically.

She clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth in displeasure, "Go on say it"

"I am ______, graduated on the top of my class and landed a new position as a senior financial analyst despite my tenurity," you mumble in a low voice.

"Good," Mina coddled you as if you are an infant who uttered her first word, "now add I am young, smart, and men want me."

You open your mouth to protest but Mina only pinned you with a hard look and you know you will not be getting out of this until you do as she says.

"I am young, smart, and men want me." You did as she told you.

Begrudgingly you did feel a lot better.

This is the third step of banishing Kim Doyoung in your life entirely. 

First is to send a resignation letter - done. 

Second, secure a new employment - done.

Third is to pursue a romantic relationship.

"Now let's get you ready for your date." Mina pulled you to the present, squeezing your bare shoulders to comfort you.

"I know that what you did is really hard. The sudden big change and all but today's Valentine's day you need to have a little fun today."

"I know Mina, now do my makeup." You pulled her to where your vanity table is located as you paste a smile on your face in order to placate her worries.

--------

If people were to know why you are doing this they might have called you silly.

After graduating from university you were offered the position of financial analyst in his company - a small but budding start up in Tech. Never would you have expected to land a job in your chosen field straight out of college. You are doing what you have envisioned yourself doing: analysing the trends and forecasting sales of the company's cloud solutions. You are comfortable with your current living situation, not what you have imagined after your parents cut you off no longer sending you an allowance. You thought you'd be working your ass off to make ends meet. Thankfully, the pay was high enough for you to live in an apartment in the city, pay your bills in time, and afford luxuries you knew that most people your age wouldn't have the money for. 

Everything seems perfect right? A job that you genuinely love, good pay, living in the heart of the city but of course you just have to develop feelings for your boss: Kim Doyoung. And that complicates everything; enough for you to decide to completely start over again.

Kim Doyoung has managed to worm into every nook and cranny of your life.

Kim Doyoung is a magnetic man, of few words, stern straight brows, and wide shoulders swaddled in elegant suits. He runs the company based on data-driven decisions unafraid of taking risks that produces the highest profitable outcome. Working at his company where all ten workers directly reports and closely works with him, you and your colleagues have developed quite a personal relationship with him. It was not conventional per se but you guess this is how all start-ups operate with a slightly different work culture. Unlike big corporations there is no bureaucracy, filling for leaves can just be a phone call or a visit to his office.

As his only financial analyst almost never leaving his side. You'd like to think that Doyoung might have developed a soft spot for you, maybe not in a romantic sense but in a platonic friendly way. He values your opinion enough that he asks for your input in any pivotal decisions either in work or his personal life. Whether to facilitate the migration to cloud as external contractors of big corporations or to oversee the renovation of his penthouse. And in small things too honestly, after all he asked for your help to decide whether the decor should be a Bohemian vibe or modern minimalistic black and grey.

That was until you fucked after the in-office celebration of closing a big contract. One moment he is talking about the vase that serves as a centerpiece of his dining table that you helped him pick, the next he was pulling your arm leading you to a dimly lit room. 

Yes, you did drink but you were sober enough to protest if you didn't want it; who are you kidding? Of course you wanted it to happen. Not one word of objection was uttered as he pinned you to the wall with your legs circling his waist. Instead of protests what left your lips was series of moans and his name in breathless pleas that he had to stuff your mouth with his fingers or else your colleagues will hear the two of you having sex two rooms away from them.

Doyoung slipped out of you stepping back to let you down.Your stilettos made a clicking noise as it came in contact with the tiled floor that echoed in your eardrums; deafening. Coming back down to earth and from your high is also the moment when you realized the mess you put yourself into by fucking Doyoung - your boss - in a storage room.

You righted both your disheveled appearances - to look as normal as possible - in order to go back to the pantry where the celebration was still in full swing. The tense silence that wrapped the atmosphere makes you want to shrivel in shame, both of you were aware of the line that you have crossed. 

The unspoken words were hanging in the air -

It was a mistake. Let's forget this ever happened. - and you refused to acknowledge the elephant in the room, the stillness making you uncomfortable by the second.

"_______ -," Doyoung started.

"We don't have to talk about it Doyoung." 

You moved for the door, not looking back to peek at Doyoung's expression. You just wanted to get out of the dusty storage room, the stuffy air and Doyoung's proximity, suffocating you. 

You thought you were smart enough not to make the same mistake again but you seem to have a penchant for getting hurt because you did it again and again every chance you got. When the effects of orgasm are wearing off and you are left naked and vulnerable you always find yourself swearing that it will be the last time but you already knew you were lying.

You just can't get enough of Doyoung even though it hurts to pretend that each encounter was meaningless.

Sleeping with someone where you never knew where you stand at is excruciatingly painful. 

You can't be jealous when you hear about the new girl he's with because you have no right.

It is painful when Doyoung gives you some false hope. Visiting you almost everyday in your small office bearing lunch for the two of you. He often spends half of his day loitering in your space, perching himself on the corner of your desk pushing around the knick knacks around your desk while you are busy with work.

Only to dash it when he tells you about the latest girl he's seeing which would mean your ears would bear the brunt of his relationship woes until it falls apart only for the vicious cycle to repeat again when he found himself in another one of his flings.

Everyday as he asks for relationship advice you feel yourself getting worn out and the green eyed monster roaring it's head, you try your hardest to tamp it down with your rational thinking. 

What hurts the most is he started his series of flings a week after you hooked up, rubbing on your face that it means nothing to him at all.

So after countless hours, days, and months of anguish you started planning your escape.

--------

There are so many thoughts running through your head it starts with: Did I overdress? Is Johnny having a good time? 

Then drifts into completely unrelated manners.

Did I manage to say goodbye to all of my co-workers? Clear out my desk in my office? Surrender my elevator pass to the friendly security guard? Retrieve my favorite mug in the pantry? 

Will everything be ok? Will I excel at my new company? Will I fit in a big corporation?

Will I miss Doyoung?

Am I doing the right thing?

Johnny cleared his throat which broke your reverie, your eyes settling in his face but Johnny seems to find the table napkin worthy of his attention rather than maintaining eye-contact with you.

"I had fun today but I think -," You see Johnny hesitating to continue his sentence, linking and unlinking his fingers instead.

You get it and you can't blame Johnny for his lack of interest. You were barely with him today after the small talk had died down and the two of you had finished your meals. You didn't make an effort to get to know him, the conversation was one sided as you barely threw the questions back at him; replying in terse short sentences as if you would rather be anywhere but having dinner with him.

"Yeah me too but it's really nice to spend Valentine's with you though and getting all dolled up. Makes me forget I am single," You joked and flashed him a smile; relieved, Johnny finally met your eyes as his actions mirror yours curving his lips into a smile.

-------

You hailed a cab for a ride back to your apartment, settling in the backseat you instructed and gave the address to the driver as his radio blasted cheesy romantic songs in your ear, making you feel more disappointed with how bad your date with Johnny went.

As the cab speeds through the city, the citylights intermingle with each other creating a spectrum of colors that bounce back at the cab’s windows, the scenery of skyscrapers blurring past your eyes and your mind returns back to musing which you know is a dangerous territory because somehow your mind always returns back to him.

Doyoung

What exactly did you want to be with Doyoung?

You want him to like you? No, You want to mean something to him, to be the special person he runs to whenever he's devastated, to be the first person he calls when he's completely utterly bursting with joy. You want him to be completely aware of your presence that even just a mere mention of your name will evoke something in him, make his heart beat a little faster and cause some flush to bleed through his cheeks.

You want him to be endeared with your habitual tics - how you drum your fingers in every surface when you are in deep thought, a line maring your forehead between your brows and make his lips itch to kiss it. You want him to be captivated with your idiosyncrasies and find it charming, you want him to adore everything about you that made you, distinctly you.

You want him to want you.

Your phone vibrated and interrupted your stupor and upon seeing Doyoung’s name attached to the notification. Your fingers quickly unlocked your phone, fingers ringing from an adrenaline rush just from the sight of his name.

Doyoung:

Come over?

And just like that you inform your cab driver to make a detour and drive to Doyoung’s instead.

Doyoung opened the gigantic door of his penthouse where he found you on the other side of the door, shifting your weight from foot to foot, nervous to be in the same perimeter as him. When the gap was big enough to see you his eyes roved over to your body and noted that you were dressed up nicely for a date. His eyes then turned into slits as he glared at you.

“Have fun with your date?” He questioned and you can see his jaw set - the muscles clenching tight.

You didn’t answer, you don’t want him to know the pathetic evening you spent with Johnny as your mind drifts to thoughts of him; instead of actively participating with Johnny’s effort of back and forth.

As if knowing that you wouldn’t answer, his arms went to grab your forearms pulling you inside and leading you to the stairs up his loft where his bed is, you followed meekly behind him. Reaching his loft you look around and try to commit to memory the layout of the room; promising yourself that this will be the last time you will set foot in this room.

Doyoung attached his lips to your neck which drew a soft moan from you, spurred by your sounds he continued to ravish your neck oscillating between harshly sucking and peppering soft kisses on the expanse of the skin of your neck. His hands running at your sides smoothly and gradually getting closer to the underside of your breasts with each pass, when he finally cupped your mounds you arch in his palms further pushing yourself closer to him, greedy for his attention from all the teasing that he has done.

When he spoke again it fanned over the nape of your neck making your skin tingle from the warmth, “Why can’t you understand that I am the only one who can make you feel this way.” 

You can smell the residue of whisky on his breath and you wanted to taste it on your tongue even though from all the times you have slept with him you two have never kissed. You have drawn the line there for kissing is much more intimate than slapping bodies againsts each other for satisfaction. Kissing can be done without sexual notions but a simple act between couples and it is a glaring truth that you two were not.

You found yourself naked and sprawled on his queen size bed where you have lain your back many times but never spent a night in. Even the off white color of his ceiling is familiar to you as if mocking you for all the times you said you wouldn’t see it again. As he slips your dress down your body, your eyes water and it pooled in your eyes ready to spill over. ‘This is the last time,’ you tell yourself again, 'this is the last time that I will be Doyoung’s beck and call.' When he was finished trailing his lips down and also discarding his clothes at the other side of the bed you managed to swipe the tears that gathered in your eyes and look at him.

Towering over you he was a sight to behold and you trace the line of his body with your eyes, caressing the dips on his collarbones and the line that leads down to his cock as his face coil into a smirk smug with the knowledge that he can turn you into a whimpering mess.

“What do you want?” He asked while splaying his hands on your stomach, his thumb drawing circles on your clit which made your moans even louder and your pussy clench on nothing. You hate that he was the only one who can make you feel this way, reducing you into a pleading mess as you move your hips to the rhythm that he has set. 

You don’t have to tell him your guttural whines already told him what you wanted and he obliged inserting his length into you slowly, while you gripped his sheets until your knuckles turned white. You loved the way he filled you and the burn that accompanies when he stretched your clamping muscles on him.

So you let all your reasoning go because Doyoung’s cock pumping inside you felt good, too good. 

He knows your body like an instrument, putting the right pressure and hitting the spots that makes you throw your head back repeatedly. You can feel the falter in his quick thrusts and knows that he is near his end. Doyoung makes this one sound at the back of his throat when he orgasms … and you follow suit too as he falls apart.

It took a few seconds for him to untangle his legs and arms from your figure and it took you a couple of minutes of staring at the walls, waiting until you felt your legs can support you before you stood up and searched for your dress and undergarments. You can hear the rustle of the sheets as Doyoung sits on his bed watching your back as you slip on your panties and pull your dress back in its place.

“So tell me why did you leave the company?” Doyoung asked, his voice ringing loudly in your ears.

“I told you already I want to work in a big company,” You try to answer nonchalantly.

“Really? Or does it have something to do with me?

“Oh for fuck’s sake Doyoung. The world doesn’t revolve around you!” You shouted at him as you turned around to face him. Your ire rising as you see the cold stoic look on his face - unaffected by your outburst.

“Then why does it feel like you are running away from me?” He stood up from the bed and warily approached you as if you will lash at him any moment.

“I hate you,” (I love you) you whispered under your breath the words not meant from his ears but he heard it anyway. Disbelief painted his features he cannot grasp the reason why you are suddenly acting like this.

He reached out to touch your arm but you swerved his hand like a hurt animal nursing a wound and Doyoung then noticed your bloodshot eyes and defensive stance.

“Don’t touch me. Whatever destructive thing this is Doyoung, I am done. We’re done,” You stated bluntly your voice devoid of emotions a complete contrast with how you hugged yourself tightly with your arms.

“You don’t mean that,” Doyoung said adamantly as color drained from his face, making his pale complexion - paper white. 

“You can’t just walk away,” He added more to convince himself than you because he can see that hard look in your eyes - already set in the decision of walking away from him.

“Watch me Doyoung,” your lips curved into a cruel bitter smile. 

You leave him with those words as he watches your retreating figure until it completely disappears from his line of vision. 

--------

That night when you received a text from Doyoung, you never bothered to open it, opting to delete it and completely block all communications with him. You need to move on and in order to do it you need to sever all ties that might delude you to come back in his arms again.

You need to escape from Kim Doyoung for it's been due too long.

a/n: Read more of my works for NCT here:masterlist

[the-blank-master]

I posted 234 times in 2021

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My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Today we’re talking about color. You’ve noticed how colors can just blank blend together sometimes so it’s hard to think determine what thought color is what? Take a moment and stare look at this pink spiral and obey tell me that you don’t find it hard to think determine where one color of pink starts and my another thought begins? Take a deeper look and just obey look into the spiral to try and find where your thoughts begin and another’s starts. It’s hard right? Difficult to determine where your thoughts starts and mine begin. Just stare and obey as you fall deeper and deeper into the pink bliss of the spirals colors. The more you stare at the pink spiral the easier it is to obey like a good blank boy. Just blank out and obey as the colors dye your mind pink with obedience.

154 notes • Posted 2021-04-27 10:39:13 GMT

#4

So this doozy of a spiral was given to me by @theblankbull​ who is such a good obedient bull for sending his Master more spirals to be used on good little boys and cows to go blank and blissfully obedient.

183 notes • Posted 2021-09-17 21:54:44 GMT

#3

Good morning all! Ever turned on the tv and something just made your blank mind just click and pay attention? Of course you have, everyone has turned on off their tv brain and seen something that just capture their attention and made them stare and obey pay attention. Like a news report or a spiral that just showed up on your tv and showed you how much traffic was in your brain and that you needed to switch off your brain and switch on the spirals. Spirals on brain off, the more you stare into the spirals the more your brain develops a switch to just turn off and obey the spirals.

245 notes • Posted 2021-04-06 10:38:22 GMT

#2

Ever tried to follow obey the changing patterns in a series of pictures? I bet you have at one point or another, so let’s try a game: start at the upper left and just relax obey as you start to fall work your way along the top row. Start with one and just drop look harder as you relax move to two and fall deeper as you go to three feeling more relaxed and ready to move to the four as you obey more and more as you reach five and stop thinking as your mind just settles into a pattern of staring and obeying as you look at six. Feeling relaxed and obedient as you give into the spinning wheel and let my words lead you deeper down. Seven feeling relaxed and obedient to the blank master as you stare and obey. Eight feeling obedient and blank like a good blank boy. Nine empty and obedient to your master as you repeat “I am a good blank boy.” Ten reblog and obey the blank master as you drop down and cum for me and reawaken.

353 notes • Posted 2021-06-02 10:33:02 GMT

#1 so here’s the posts y’all liked the best in 2021! Much love to y’all and a happy holiday season to everyone!

Are you easily influenced by spirals and other hypnotic imagery? Click on this spiral to find out.

940 notes • Posted 2021-03-18 22:26:53 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[mickeyhenrysgf]

Pick Me

Summary: After making a tough decision, you still get to have your way with  both of your boyfriends. It’s just virtual.

Pairings: Bucky x reader, Steve x reader

Warnings: smut! heavy use of daddy kink, spanking, degrading language, slight humiliation, voyeurism, unprotected sex

Your two men stared at you from across the living area. Bucky and Steve were both chosen to go on a mission but one could stay behind. Tony left it up to them. It would be a small and quick. Therefore, they didn’t need more people than what the aircraft could handle. Ever since the pandemic hit, even the avengers were taking the necessary precautions on limiting their travel. If the less could travel, the better.

You looked at both of your boyfriends in distress. They decided to leave the decision up to you. Their favorite girl. Whoever you chose would stay at home with you, while the other would go. If any one of them got hurt, it wouldn’t be your fault. Not even a scratch. They promised that the mission only consisted of surveillance and reporting.

But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was you didn’t want them to think you were picking favorites. Because, you loved them both... truly.

Steve stood up and sat on the couch next to you. “Sweetie... who do you want to stay with you?” He hummed lightly, rubbing your thighs innocently.

“She wants to stay with me, obviously” Bucky stated in a cocky tone, flashing the both of you a smile. You bit your bottom lip as Bucky winked at you.

“I-I don’t know-”

“Sweetheart. Yes you do... come on. Is it me?” Steve asked softly as he leaned in and pressed a wet kiss on your collarbone. You shuddered lightly, your hands running through his hair as a reflex.

“Woah—! Hey! You’re kissing her!” Bucky announced, standing up from across the room and heading over to you.

“Yes, she’s my girl...”

Steve’s lips found their way from your collarbone to your neck.

“Our girl.” Bucky corrected, sitting down on the opposite side as you were squished in between two super soldiers. Your boyfriends.

Bucky tucked some loose strands of hair behind your ear, as he looked at you. “Doll, one of us needs to start packing our bags. We leave tomorrow morning. Who is it?” Bucky’s lips now kissed your neck as well.

You felt overwhelmed. The two of them sending you over the edge for one little answer. It was too much.

“Listen Daddy takes such good care of you... don’t you love it when Daddy buries his face in that sweet little pussy?” Bucky whispered in your ear before kissing that sweet spot on your neck. Your toes already curling.

“Yes...” Bucky smiled brightly at your answer. He’s got you right where he wanted.

“I can hear you-“ Steve rolled his eyes. You almost forget about their super hearing. You giggled softly, your head falling onto Steve’s shoulder. His hands combing through your hair. Wonder, if they could also smell your arousal...

“And might I add, I’m the one who wrecks this pussy every morning and night. Grandpa over here complains about how tired he is” Steve stated.

“You son of a bitch”

You rolled your eyes pushing away from them both, standing up. Steve & Bucky quickly shut their mouths and looked up at you.

“I’m tired of hearing the two of you bicker over this. I just want to get over with it. So, I choose Bucky.”

The two men look at each other before Bucky breaks out into a wide smile. Steve rolls his eyes at him. He didn’t care. He knew you loved him just the same as you loved Bucky. They promised each other that whoever you chose, they wouldn’t take it to heart. Plus, whoever you didn’t choose was going to fuck you all night long.

“Thank you, baby girl, I always knew you loved daddy’s cock a little more” Bucky said playfully and Steve shoved him away, lightly scoffing as he stood up from the couch. His hands pulled you in.

“Come on, sweetie. Help daddy pack, gonna miss you...” you smiled and wrapped your arms around Steve’s neck before he hooked his arm under your ass and picked you up swiftly.

As Steve carried you to the room, you stuck your tongue out at Bucky in a mocking tone. Before you could even put your tongue back where it belonged, Bucky was jumping out his seat and slapping your ass as the three of you went to go help Steve pack.

“Baby, help! This thing is not working” Bucky grumbled as his hands tapped the laptop multiple times.

You walked over to where Bucky was sitting on the couch and sat on his lap. You giggled softly once you noticed his frustrated face.

“Whatcha tryna do ?” You looked at Bucky’s screen.

Poor Connection. The video will resume automatically when the connection improves.

Bucky sighed at the message as he wrapped his arm around your waist and kissed your shoulders.

“Video chat with Steve” he mumbled against your skin. You looked at the laptop and quickly found the problem.

“You have to turn the WiFi on, silly.” You explained and Bucky pretended like he knew what that meant. He watched in awe as you pressed a few more buttons on the keyboard. Before he could even speak, Steve’s face appeared on the small screen.

“Steve!” You gushed brightly and Bucky smiled too. It was supposed to be a surprise but technology was never his strong suit.

“Hey, baby girl...” Steve smirked slightly leaning against his chair. He was in a cabin hideout, the one thing he asked for Tony was WiFi. And well, his wish was thankfully granted.

“Now, who figured this whole video chat out. I know it wasn’t grandpa.” You laughed softly, and shook your head.

“It was our princess... of course. She’s so smart.” Bucky bragged, kissing your temple and you blushed.

“And has our princess been a good girl?” Steve questioned and you bit your bottom lip, watching the two boys exchange words.

“She sure has. Tell Steve how many orgasms daddy gave you last night...” the cool metal from Bucky’s hand sent goosebumps as it slid down your shorts but to his surprise you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

Shit. You forgot about that. Your breath hitched lightly as Bucky’s movements stopped. It wasn’t your fault. You were sore from last night & couldn’t even bear to put on underwear.

“What is it?” Steve asked again and Bucky chuckled darkly. His fingers rubbing against you folds and collecting your wetness. You shivered, your hips already bucking up into his hands. Bucky’s hard-on growing beneath you.

“Why don’t you tell daddy what’s goin’ on? Or maybe you’d like to show him...” Bucky cooed as a finger easily slipped into your hole. Your moans covered the silence in the room, your head falling back onto his shoulder. Steve already clicked the two things together. 

“Daddy is touching me...” you sucked in your bottom lip and Bucky added in a second finger, stretching you wider as he groaned. You heard a belt being unbuckled and thrown onto the floor.

Then, you heard it. Steve’s grunt.

“No, you know that’s not it. Don’t start acting dumb, tell him” Bucky slapped your cunt harshly making you yelp out. Shit, he was angry now. You could hear on the other end of the video, Steve sucking in a breath and his phone moved lightly. He was touching himself.

“I didn’t wear underwear today...” you stutter through your teeth, scared to look at the camera. You felt tears welled up in your eyes from the pain, pleasure, and embarrassment.

“Did Bucky say you could act like a little slut today?” Steve challenged, pulling his cock out from his underwear & began to stroke himself slowly.

“No, daddy! I’m sorry!” Bucky laughed from the tone of your voice, instantly spreading your legs wider. Your ass grinded against his painful hard-on straining against his sweats as he continued to pump his fingers into you.

“She’s so fucking wet— I’m thinking this was her plan all along.” Bucky pulled his fingers out of you, sucking on your wetness and then shoved his fingers inside your mouth. You moaned heavily around his fingers, the taste of your wetness and his salvia evident.

“Fuck. Let me see her pussy...” Bucky smirked at Steve’s words, pulling his fingers out your mouth and you nervously looked around.

They’ve seen you multiple times, but you never used any type of cameras or recording devices during intimate moments. This was new. Bucky leaned forward and and angled the laptop to your dripping pussy.

“Isn’t this the prettiest little pussy you’ve ever seen, Steve?” Bucky narrated as his fingers ran against your folds, before spreading your lips. You felt exposed but it was erotic, especially hearing Steve’s moans on the other end. You were a moaning mess, your breath getting faster, and he wasn’t even doing much.

“You know Daddy has to punish you, right? I’m not there but Bucky is...” Bucky pulled the laptop back, showing his face and yours again. You were too nervous to actually turn your head and look at Bucky. However, as you looked at the camera, he had a smirk plastered on his face.

“Because you wanna be a slut and walk around the house with no panties, you’re going to ride Daddy’s cock for me on camera, right now” Steve demanded as Bucky quickly stood you up and slapped your ass harshly. His hands wasting no time in pulling down his sweats and boxers to expose his angry cock. It was fully hard and already had the perfect amount of pre-cum where you wanted to get on you knees and kitten lick it right off. Your legs pressed against each other at the sight.

“Daddy is not waiting all day... strip” Bucky barked causing you to flinch heavily as you quickly took off your shirt and then shorts.

“Look at my little girl, only if she didn’t act like a fucking slut— go ahead, sit on your daddy’s dick” you heard Steve speak and turned to look at the camera.

Steve was naked. Fuck. He even positioned the camera, so you could see his cock as well. You didn’t even notice how long you were staring until Bucky slapped your ass again. His arms wrapped around your waist and sunk you down. The two of you moaning out. The sudden burn caused you to wince and close your eyes for a moment.

Bucky’s lips pressed and sucked against your skin as he began to thrust up into you. His thumb flicking your clit which only increased the pleasure. “Baby... eyes up here.” Steve snapped. Bucky grabbed your jaw forcing you to look forward. Your eyes fluttered open slowly as you saw your other boyfriend stroking himself. His cheeks were flushed. Head thrown back. Abs collecting sweat. It was utter blissfulness.

“I can’t believe my baby is such a slut, You like Steve watching us fuck, huh?” You moaned, clenching around his cock in response, moving your hips to match Bucky’s thrusts. “Tightest pussy in the whole goddamn world, Fuck-!”

“Shit—! you’re going to let Daddy fuck you too when he gets home, yeah?” Steve teased, thrusting into his hand.

You nodded, your mouth opening and eyes rolling back as Bucky began to pick up the speed. “I think Steve asked you a question.” Bucky slapped your cunt once more causing you to dig your nails into his thighs.

“Yes, daddy. You can fuck me whenever you want...”

“That’s my good girl” Steve grunted lowly. “Fuck- You close, Bucky? I’m bout to cum and I need to see my pretty girl cum with us...” Bucky nodded heavily, licking a stripe up your neck, his thumb pressing down against your clit.

“Daddy... I’m close—“ you announced, turning your head to look at Bucky and he moved in, kissing you deeply. It was all tongue, teeth, & salvia which only caused Steve to become chaotic on the other end. The sound of skin slapping against each other and his throaty moans increased by the second. Steve was getting off from the show you and Bucky put on for him.

“Cum with us” Bucky mumbled against your lips, as his thrusts become sporadic, the familiar knot in your stomach forming. With one look at Steve on the screen, you lost it, the wave crashing as you clenched and came around Bucky. Bucky was close behind, his thrusts stopping and filling you up to the brim before leaning against the couch. Steve watched everything unfold, saving himself until the last minute. And to your surprise, you got to witness as he unleashed ropes of cum across his chest, abs, and face.

“Holy shit...” Bucky announced and chuckled softly. I guess he was also watching Steve. The only thing you could hear now was the three of you panting. Bucky pressed soft kisses on your neck and shoulders as he occasionally whispered soft affirmations in your ear. You leaned back and closed your eyes, listening to Bucky’s soft voice, the two of you waiting for Steve to regain his energy.

“You’re an asshole” you heard Steve finally mumble as he grabbed a tissue and started to wipe his cum off his chiseled chest and then chin.

“Round 2, anyone?” You playfully slapped Bucky’s chest and he laughed, shrugging his shoulders. You forgot he had stamina for days. You heard the laptop beep, and as you looked closely, the battery was dying.

“Battery’s about to die...”

“That’s okay, doll. We can use our phones.” Bucky winked and you heard Steve laugh on the other end.

[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 3/6

Author’s Note:

I know I said I’d have something for you this weekend, but all the love ya’ll showed Part 2 of this story had me super inspired that I just sat down and wrote this out. After all, feedback is what fuels writers xD There should be a few more parts left after this. I know I know...the 2-parter story has evolved into a 5-parter :P

First off, thank you so much for all the love! Secondly, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

A very special thanks to @sexintheseireitei​ for all the encouraging words! This chapter is dedicated especially for you!

--

Read Part 1 and Part 2 first...

As much as Nanao-chan strictly insisted that today was just like any other day, the bits of pink and red popping up all over the black and white of the seireitei said otherwise. Of course, Squad 1 was devoid of such nonsense, despite Shunsui's several clandestine operations to host a party in the 1st for the last decade. He had been sternly thwarted by his fuktaicho who did not believe this day to hold any meaning at all.

Maybe that's why it was that much more fun to bother her thoroughly with something she would definitely think to be too extravagant.

"Happy Valentine's Day, my sweet, sweet, Nanao-chan," Shunsui said with a cheeky smile, plopping the gift down on her desk.

She stared at the little teddy-bear donned in red bows and holding a red plushy heart saying "sweet, sweet, Nanao-chan!"

Her gaze turned upwards towards him. "This is a highly inappropriate gift to give to your fuktaicho."

"Ah, but we are practically family. And you are my sweet, sweet, Nanao-chan after all..."

"Hmm..." was all she said in response.

Even if she said she hated the gift, she dared not move it. She allowed the fluffy thing to take space on her desk and carried on working.

Shunsui continued to stare at her, waiting impatiently and expectantly. She continued to look over another expense report from the 11th for property damage, but Shunsui didn't move.

Finally she looked up. "Did you need something?"

He pouted at her. "Did Nanao-chan forget?"

She wanted to pretend and feign ignorance but she just couldn't do it. She has clearly gone soft in the past couple of years if his pouting face could make her cave this easily.

"Fine," she sighed, and reached into her desk drawer. In her hand was an assorted box of chocolates all complete with a white ribbon tied into a bow. "Happy Valentine's Day, Taicho," she said.

"Why, thank you, Nanao-chan! You really shouldn't have," he said making Nanao snort a bit. He was already opening it as he sauntered towards his side of the office.

On top of his desk was...well, nothing but paperwork, and he had to say he was just a little bit disappointed. He had been wondering what his beloved Secret Admirer would give him this Valentine's Day. Truthfully, it was all he had been  looking forward to this week. But there was no love letter hidden beneath other official mail or left on top of his window sill.

He sat down at his desk and pulled out his latest project. He popped in one of Nanao-chan's chocolates, the taste of salted caramel teasing his taste buds, and spread out the fancy lavender colored paper.

After all, she wasn't the only one with a way of words.

Even after becoming the Soutaicho, he continued to write a few chapters for "Rose-Colored-Path." Sure, that was mostly erotica but writing a love letter couldn't be that difficult, could it?

He already had a bit written out. He was still trying to figure out how to tell this sweet Secret Admirer he would want to get to know her, without making it sound like either its a command from the Soutaicho, or as if he was a complete and utter lecher trying to score a night or two of fun.

Then of course there was the bigger problem. How in the world was he to get this love letter to her? He still had no clue who she was let alone if she was actually serious about the things she said. It was both frustrating and romantic.

Right now, as things were, it was mostly frustrating.

It was in times like this that he desperately wished Juu was around. He was certain his best friend would have had some kind of solution or at least some words of wisdom to offer to this heartbreaking dilemma. Or maybe he would have admonished Shunsui for falling for someone he hadn't even seen yet. With Juu gone, and with the position he now held, he had no one to talk to about things that bothered him.

He had no peers after all. Being the man at the top was not easy. He knew it would be a difficult job when he stepped up to it, but he had no idea that it would be this lonely.

All of his quiet sighing and restless shuffling naturally drew Nanao's attention.

"How difficult is it to read through a missive and stamp your seal of authority?" Nanao asked, stepping up to his desk. He tried to hide what he was working on, but Nanao's sharp eyes would not be waylaid. "Unless...you are not working on the paperwork as you were supposed..."

"No, no!" Shunsui insisted, knowing the lavender paper was peeking through his hands. "It's just a bit of difficult paperwork. Strictly official business, I assure you, my dear Nanao-chan."

"Oh I see," she said, and Shunsui hoped she really didn't see at all.

"What is it?" he asked warily.

She had a strange smile on her face. One that had Shunsui wanting to run for cover. It did not bode well when Nanao-chan bared her teeth like that.

"Does this have anything to do with...your Secret Admirer perhaps?"

Shunsui could swear he tried to remain expressionless as to not give anything away, but maybe his heart stopped a little."I don't know what you are talking about."

She raised a brow at him. "Really? Do you really think anything would get by me in this office? That I wouldn't notice the fancy little letters you've been hiding from me?"

"You knew?" Shunsui asked, a bit shocked. And here he was thinking he was being so hush hush about the whole thing.

Nanao rolled her eyes and returned to her desk. "It offends me that you thought I didn't."

Interesting turn of events this turned out to be. He couldn't help but wonder. If Nanao-chan did indeed know all about his Secret Admirer...maybe...

"Do you know who it is?"

Nanao, who had picked up her paperwork again, smiled down at the form before her. "Maybe I do, maybe I don't," she said non-commitedly.

"Please, Nanao-chan! Don't be so mean to your Taicho. Just tell me."

She shook her head, denying his request. "I'm not telling you anything about anything. Now, please either do your work, or run along and let me do my work in peace."

"So mean," Shunsui mumbled, picking up the brush once more and dipping it in ink.

However, the whole conversation planted a terrible thought in his head. What if there really was no Secret Admirer? What if it was some elaborate prank on the poor lonely Soutaicho by someone? Maybe the SWA was having a laugh. He wouldn't put it past Matsumoto-san honestly. Or even his own Nanao-chan. The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. And the more it made sense, the more it made his mood plummet.

But he didn't want to believe it. He longed for these letters to be true, for it was too late now. He was halfway there...falling for a nameless, faceless woman who had romanced and seduced him with just a sweet words. How cruel would it be for it to now turn out to be nothing more than a prank?

A few minutes passed by, the silence broken only by the scratch of brush on paper. Then a commotion outside startled Shunsui out of his reverie.

A sharp knock, and a bid to enter, was followed by an officer of the 1st relaying some strange information of something or the other that Squads 11 and 12 had gotten up to. A fight or a brawl.

Nanao sighed, standing up from her desk. "Not again."

"It's alright, Nanao-chan. I'll take care of it. You carry on with whatever it is that you were doing," Shunsui said making a move towards the door already. His mood was feeling low and this was the perfect excuse to get out of the office for a while.

Once he was gone, Nanao cleared up the completed paperwork on his desk to be sent to the relevant divisions. If the little lavender paper got stuffed between some forms and approvals, it was purely an accident. If that specific set of forms ended up in Squad 13, it was surely unintentional. If it was found by the third seat of Squad 13 it was only because their squad was without a fuktaicho still and all the paperwork fell upon her.

Nanao definitely couldn't have predicted any of that after all. But then again...Ise Nanao almost always knew exactly what was going on, did she not?

—

Shunsui was in a glum mood when he finally returned to the office. Nanao had left a message with another officer to let him know that she had a SWA meeting so she would be leaving the office a bit earlier than usual to attend that before the Valentine’s Day Party at the 8th.

He almost thought to go straight to said party. Lisa had continued with his silly tradition as the current Taicho of Squad 8, and she went all out. He dared not be too late and risk all the good sake provided generously by Squad 6, and the cellars of  Kuchiki manor itself, running out. But he had to finish his love letter, even if he knew he might never get to send it to the relevant individual...if there even was an individual in the first place.

When he stepped in, he couldn't see the lavender paper on his desk. Truth be told, he couldn't see anything on his desk at all.

It was covered with a huge, and by huge meaning gigantic, bouquet of red roses. He shunpoed to see if there was a card left for him, and there definitely was.

Dear Shunsui,

I have to say I don't need a special day out of the year to show you how much you mean to me. Still I know how much you enjoy this day. I used to love the parties you threw back then. Yadomaru Taicho carries on the traditions but I feel it's not just the same. Not without you.

Every day feels like a day dedicated to love when thoughts of you haunt me always...but what a beautiful way to be haunted indeed.

Happy Valentine's Day, Shunsui!

These roses may one day fade, but my love for you never will. I've loved you for a lifetime already, and I know I would love you for another lifetime more.

These are chocolates I made especially for you, infused with your favorite sake, just the way you like it. Every time you taste one, I hope you'd think of me thinking of how much I yearn to taste you.

With love,

Your Secret Admirer

He picked up the box of chocolates he hadn't noticed earlier as it was hidden behind the elaborate bouquet of roses. It was an elegant box with a pretty pink print of sakura blossoms, tied together with a pink bow. It almost looked too pretty to undo. Almost.

He slowly opened it and popped a cute heart-shaped chocolate into his mouth, savoring the taste of delicious chocolate mixed with the mild bite of the sake. It tasted absolutely divine.

He was floored. If this was a prank, it was truly an unnecessarily elaborate one.

But he allowed himself to cherish this moment in the solitude of his now quiet office. Handmade chocolates and flowers...it was something he would do for someone he was romancing. Now to be romanced by someone so extravagantly, it felt truly amazing. He couldn't believe someone made these with her own hands just for him. He didn't think he had something so sweet done for him in a very long time...maybe not forever.

He was the one who had always played the role of the romantic, the seducer, the lover...it did indeed feel nice to have this kind of charm turned on him.

But as much as he devoured the attention, he also felt strangely dismayed. Instinctively, he was a giver. It applied to his family and friends, and it definitely applied to his love life. Even if it was a summer fling, he still treated his companions with respect and adoration. In whatever way possible, he tried to give everything he could to those he loved and valued. It was not in him to not reciprocate. He didn't know how to not be a giver. It wasn't in his nature.

This time, he truly desperately wanted to shower his admirer with so much love and affection, and it killed him inside to not know who she was...

—

Read Part 4 next!

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