#know that i’m trying but it feels insufficient

[transmechanicus]

Never underestimate the power of a comfy hoodie to ward off Lovecraftian madness🖤

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: Jazz Fenton, after years of fixing her brother’s injuries, becomes a Doctor with an inclination towards behavioral health and psychology- In order to make the difference she wants to see in the world she joins Dr. Leslie Thompkin’s practice. 

Jazz Fenton, M.D. has spent years of her life doing research, doing the hard work and the emotional labor, and finally, finally, she’s joining a practice she can feel 100% confident in. She’s goddamn good doctor and she wants to make the biggest impact that she can. 

Dr. Thompkins (who insists that she call her Leslie as they’re colleagues now), is a kind woman, sharp as a tack and keeps her practice open at odd hours to help the most unfortunate. It took some time for them to bond and trust to be built, but now Jazz is being allotted a few night shifts here and there. 

It’s incredible. Jazz gets to spend time with the kids who come in and really talk to them (in addition to getting them antibiotics, heating pads and pokemon themed bandaids) to help equip them with a few coping skills. Her passion for psychology never disappeared after all, but the expansive knowledge of how to heal the human body has made her find a sense of fulfillment like no other.

Having proven herself and worn Leslie down, Jazz now takes up about 1/3 of all the night shifts in the month. She’s hoping to get to 50/50 by the end of the year but she’s content with what she has. Danny keeps odd hours anyway so calling him after work on her walk home can happen any time of day and he will always answer enthusiastically. 

It’s a particularly busy night before he comes in. The Red Hood. 

He was known for being an ally to Leslie, despite being on contentious terms with the Bats, but Jazz had never asked directly. Never one to turn away a patient with bullet hole wounds, she hops into action to get his wounds cleaned, sewed up and gauze wrapped. She’s handing him a sheet (an Infographic! Dani made it with her! Graphic design is her passion!) on how to care for his wounds when he first seems to recognize that she’s not Leslie. 

“No, Of course not. I’m Dr. Fenton. I can’t blame you for not remembering but I did introduce myself as you bled in the entry way. You’re Red Hood, right?” 

“Hm. Didn’t realize the practice was expanding. Where can I find-” He grumbles before pushing her hand aside from where she had still been supporting his shoulder.

“Hold on there, mister. You’re going home, you’re following this infographic and you’re going to get some sleep.” 

“Lady you don’t know-” His voice modulated ton came across antagonistically. As if he was trying to intimidate her. Ha, Jazz rolls her eyes at the inclination.

“Who I’m talking to? Who I’m dealing with? You’re hilarious. I can eat you vigilante’s hero complexes for breakfast. Tell me who I’m calling to pick you up and then you can say thank you.” Jazz snaps at him. It really had been a long night but his whole dialogue thus far is making her a bit batty. 

“Oh really Doc? You know Leslie’s tough shit, and from what I can tell you’ve got nothing on her-” 

“Trying to make me feel insufficient when I just saved your life? That’s cute. I’m sure a lifetime of abandonment by both of your parental figures gave you that. I’m also sure that you inherited this desire to prove you’re not going to be dependent on anyone who wants to help from whoever got you dressing up in tights to fight crime in the first place. Again, I’d love to talk at length about how predictable you-” 

“Bwah- wait- I’m Predictable? You’re probably some nepobaby who had parents who told her she could have the world-” But Jazz cuts him off with hysterical laughter- he couldn’t be further from the truth. Her parents loved her, but nepotism? With what, the ghosts? If anything she got that from Danny, but he doesn’t need to know about her ghostly titles. 

“You’re just some guy who came back from the dead and made his trauma everyone else’s issue. So shut it. And tell me how I’m getting you home from this clinic.” She seethes though her voice stays devastatingly level with each word. 

Speechless for a moment, he eventually relents to Jazz that he’s already called for help on the comms but it will be hours before they can come for a pick up. The sun had already come up and the night had been over for most of them before Hood had walked into trouble. She groans and the realizes the time for herself and the empty clinic around them.

“Fine. My shift just ended anyway. I’ll get you home in one piece and I swear to all the ancients that you’d better follow the directions on the infographic.” 

And that’s how Jazz ended up calling her brother while supporting the weight of a grown ass man (who no longer wanted to talk to her) on her walk home. 

The next time Red Hood appears in her clinic, he’s brought a dozen roses in addition to the cut on his neck that definitely needs to be pressurized like ASAP. Did he stop for the flowers on his way to the clinic? He’s going to pass out from blood loss! She doesn’t even like roses!

[gay-dorito-dust]

I love all the things you write for the bat boys! So it just makes me wonder, how would the bat boys react to their partner doing the thing from tiktok where they’re all like “My boyfriend just told me he doesn’t love me anymore” all bc they told them that they couldn’t shop on Amazon anymore? 😂😂😂

I dunno what this was tbh.

Jason

Raises his brow at you the moment you say this, unamused. ‘Says the one who’s spending unnecessary amounts of money on 50cm plushies.’ He retorts.

You huffed as you crossed your arms over your chest. ‘Could’ve fooled me.’ You really wanted that 50cm hello kitty plush but Jason had to pull you away from doing so unfairly.

Jason groaned as he knelt in front of you. ‘Sweetheart, if I could I would give you all the plushies your heart desires, but you’ve got to think we’ve got limited living space and besides you were bound to get annoyed with how much space they take up sooner or later. I’m doing this for us, okay?’ He said as he searched your eyes.

You started at him for a bit before relaxing your arms. ‘Okay.’ You murmured.

Jason smiled, ‘do you take back your statement about me not loving you?’ He asked.

‘I guess.’ You replied, still not looking at him but Jason brought his hand to your chin and gently moved it so that you were stuck staring at him as he smiled at you sweetly. ‘I’ll ask again, do you take back the statement that I don’t love you?’

‘Yes, I take it back.’ You said louder this time. ‘I take back my statement that you don’t love me, I was being dramatic and I’m sorry that’s I’d ever say anything bad about me sweet, handsome man.’ You added when Jason didn’t think you were being honest and decided to butter him up with flattery.

Jason chuckled as he presses a kiss to your forehead. ‘Flatter won’t get you anywhere sweetheart but I appreciate the attempt, I’ll buy you a plushy for being good as long as you don’t spout such nonsense.’ He hums as he pressed a kiss to your nose before one more against your lips.

‘I promise.’ You said as you closed your eyes, knowing well enough that you could never say such things again when he treated you with nothing but love, respect and willingness to compromise. That and you could never stay mad at him for too long, you didn’t have the heart to.

Dick pouts but still stands strong on his stance.

‘I do love you baby but this has become an addiction, I’m only trying to save you the embarrassment from having your card decline for insufficient funds.’ Dick tells you as though he was helping you break a shitty habit, which you guess he was, but it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t help but buy that one plushy! It looked so lonely and you wanted to give it a home!

‘But, but-‘

‘No buts.’ Dick replied sternly. ‘The plushy would’ve found a better home with that kid that came into the store after us,’ he then squeezed your hand reassuringly, ‘besides i don’t think you really want to Hayley to get to them.’

You winced thinking about how the poor plushies would get torn apart within seconds if Hayley found them, which is why you kept all of your plushies elsewhere while getting Hayley her how set of toys, was it a bit much? Yeah but if it was to make your sweet puppy happy then you’d more than willingly go bankrupt for her just to see her little happy paw tippy taps. ‘I guess you’re right.’ You admitted defeatedly.

‘You hurt my heart when you said I didn’t love you anymore.’ Dick feels you and he brought your hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat. ‘You know I love you more than anything, so please don’t go hurting my heart for the sole purpose of loving you without fail.’ You couldn’t help but internally coo at his words and know that realistically he was looking out for you, so you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed with how dramatic you are being, especially over something that you could easily get when Dick wasn’t looking.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him after all.

‘I’m sorry, what can I do to make it up to you.’ You asked as you looked into his pretty eyes.

‘Since you’re offering Preferably some cuddles, kisses and even more kisses from the most beautiful person I know.’ Dick said with a cheeky smile on his face, the little shit had been planning this the entire time, the conniving little fucker and you fell for his trap without much difficulty. And now you were stuck coddling this smug man as he patted himself on the back for getting back at you for being dramatic over some plushy that he may or may not have bought you already.

[crazyinluvfix]

DON’T NEED SAVING - a klaus mikaelson oneshot

summary: when klaus brings his girlfriend to meet his family for the first time they don’t exactly welcome her with open arms. namely, rebekah. but as soon as she takes a dagger to her pride she gets ANGRY, and it makes klaus love her even more.

WARNINGS: swearing, depictions of anger / fighting, physical violence ( not domestic )

request: @ranisingsnew

3.7k words

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Klaus swore he would never let his power be dampened by something as frivolous as love - that he’d never be with a woman for more than a fling. He was too good for it. Too strong. Especially to fall for a human.

That was until he met Y/n.

One of his worldly escapades had led him to a place with architecture so beautiful, life so pure, and a certain spark so bold it could capture even him in its wonder.

All of this held his attention so tightly that he didn't even notice what was right in front of him until he hit it. Literally.

His typically sly, dark blue eyes seemed to flash a shade lighter for just a second when he looked up, growing wide at the sight before him. Something even more exquisite and awestriking than the scenery - something he never thought possible. Her.

She looked at him expectantly with an arched eyebrow as his brain practically short-circuited at the smell of the sweet blood beneath her veins.

“I-” he paused. “Sorry, love. Forgive me, I was in my own world,” his stare piercing, gaining back his usual strength after that brief moment of weakness, his signature smirk at home on his lips.

But his face practically dropped in surprise as her’s stayed just as it was; unmoving, unyielding, unimpressed, with arms crossed over her chest as she eyed him up and down.

Klaus felt unusually insufficient under her cold gaze, one that could rival his. He took a step forward, shaking out his shoulders to regain the intimidating presence he was so known for, folding his arms back at her.

“You’re not in a rush, are you?”

The look she gave was incredulous. “That depends, why are you asking?”

This one was feisty, he liked that, he liked a challenge.

His tongue swiped over his teeth with a slight chuckle before speaking again, the lilt in his voice that he used to woo any woman when he wanted to watch them crumble. “I’m new in town, I was hoping you could show me around,” he moved closer, “I’d love to get to know… the place.” A ring-clad hand reached forward to brush a strand of hair from her face.

But she got there before he could.

Her silence was deafening as she mulled the offer over. It wasn’t often that a woman could resist his charms for so long.

“If you’re so desperate to be in my company then fine. You can tag along but I’m not gonna be your little tour guide.”

The stark contrast between her sweet appearance and her fierce attitude was beyond alluring.

Klaus was willing to take anything he could get, feeling more like a lost puppy than he had in over 1000 years, and he was on her leash.

For days he managed to seek her out, every chance he got.

It was a means to an end, the usual end. At least, that’s what he told himself

But the less she fell victim to his charms, the more he was weirdly captured by hers.

Compulsion didn’t seem to work either - did she really make him so weak that he couldn’t perform such a basic function?

Instead, when she got defensive to his advances, it was like she put a spell on him of her own. She wasn’t a witch, but her mind games felt more powerful than any that he had met.

“What do you say we go and get a little drink, huh?” he leaned forward and looked into her eyes, waiting for her pupils to dilate so he could have her right where he wanted her.

“What are you doing?”

Klaus was abruptly taken aback, blinking rapidly as he let out a confused, breathy chuckle. “What do you mean? I’m not doing anything, love,” his eyes never left hers.

“No, that thing with your eyes,” she nodded, dead set on what she saw.

His only instinct was to try again, “You didn’t see anything.”

“There!” she caught it once more, causing him to take a step back; it was safe to say he was completely and utterly perplexed.

“You just did it again! What was that?”

Her eyes seemed to control him instead and he almost stuttered - he never stuttered.

This woman had him - the most powerful man on the planet - wrapped around her tiny little mortal finger.

~

She and Klaus had been dating for a few months now. After weeks of his constant flowers, letters, paintings, and smooth talk she finally gave in. He couldn’t help but think she only accepted his efforts because she had wanted a break from trying to resist them, and this is what she thought at first too; that she’d let him win for a little while, maybe a couple of weeks, and then break it off.

But as the months passed, she too fell head over heels for him. Over this short time he had already revealed everything to her about his supernatural world, he trusted her with his life and knew that she wouldn’t say a word. Klaus hadn’t thought his attraction to her could get any stronger, but he was now the most whipped he had ever been. She was more than his usual affair or snack. She was his soulmate, he was sure of it.

But Klaus was a family man through and through, and he felt as if it was finally time for them to meet the love of his immortal life.

~

“I will never let anything happen to you, you know that, right?” Klaus turned to look at his beautiful girlfriend who sat calmly in the passenger seat of his car - he seemed more nervous than she did.

I simply rolled my eyes and laughed, he was so protective it almost hurt. “I know, Nik. You’ve told me about a thousand times already.”

He just smiled. “I have. But I just wanted to warn you that they’re not always the most friendly bunch - obviously that skipped me.” He tried to end on a quip to ease my mind, something he wouldn’t have thought to do for anyone else.

His family had a very complicated history, and a lot of it revolved around him, so their feelings toward him fluctuated on the daily. It was a fact that he was the strongest; and even though he wasn’t the oldest he was by far the boss of the Mikaelson group. So if any one of them put even one bad word on my name he was more than ready to tear them apart.

I had heard all about the family drama - Klaus was undoubtedly one to gossip - but I knew I could handle anything they threw at me on my own, even if it was from an original vampire.

~

“Welcome to my humble abode,” Klaus turned the key to the ornate wooden doors, swinging them open with his usual dramatics as he took my hand and led me inside.

My jaw immediately dropped. ‘Humble,’ definitely didn’t do it justice.

I had expected it to be nice, but this house was beyond lavish, stunning, massive - not the dark cave many would expect from a bunch of ancient vampires.

Klaus had obviously noticed the look of awe sweep my face because he laughed, that low chuckle he always did that set my heart on fire.

Subtleties in his eyes told me that he was glad I liked it so much. I had heard from many that they found my boyfriend incredibly hard to read, which was actually quite a shock to me because I had pried open the windows to his soul the very moment I met him.

He never freed my hand from his he led us into the main room. “Where are they?” he scanned the area and listened for footsteps upstairs since they did know we were coming.

“Kol! Elijah! Rebekah! Come down!” he shouted throughout the grand house and made me giggle. He really was the leader of the family.

A variety of shouts called back before three figures sped down to the bottom floor.

Two men and one woman. One of the men wore more casual clothes, a jacket over a button-up shirt and some jeans - much like how Klaus typically dressed - while the other wore a full suit at 4 pm on a Tuesday. They both practically scowled at the sight of me, but the blonde girl was the worst. I couldn’t tell if that was how her face fell or if she was purposefully staring daggers through me as if to telepathically wound me with her attitude - she looked like a blast…

Klaus then stepped forward, bringing me with him, a happy grin on his face, “Brothers, Rebekah, this is my wonderful Y/n.” His hand gestured towards me with a softness none of them had seen before, not that they cared.

I noticed how they all seemed to size me up. They were silent, but their mannerisms spoke louder than their words ever could’ve. The vibe that was given off immediately was that I was being judged.

Nevertheless, I chose to be polite, to be the bigger person - you’d think for people who had been alive so long they would’ve had the time to learn manners. “Nice to meet you all,” I offered a warm smile that none of them returned. Tough crowd.

Soon, the awkward introductions were over and we all went to sit in the living room. As we walked over Klaus leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “They’re always a bit cranky around this time,” smirking as he knew that they were vampires and would most definitely hear him. I could not help but let out a small laugh.

Klaus, of course, made sure I sat as close to him as physically possible when we got to the couch, his arm around my shoulder as everyone else sat on the other chairs around the room.

The conversation started light; ‘What do you do for work,’ ‘Where are you from,’ etc.

Meanwhile, the blonde who I now know to be Rebekah had not spoken a word, that was until she shouted out in the middle of my answer to one of Elijah’s questions.

“So, what do you want with him?” she referred to her brother and I could practically feel him roll his eyes behind me.

“Is it his money? Or is it that you want to become like us?” she assumed, the thought making her laugh out loud.

I felt Klaus’ hand tighten around mine and the way his chest rose when he took a deep breath in, “Rebekah.” His tone was strict, warning.

“Shh,” I ran my fingertips over his knuckles, quickly looking back to tell him it was okay before turning back to Rebekah.

“Neither, believe it or not,” my smile was sweet, but also slightly condescending. “I’m with him because we love each other, is that so hard to believe?” I made sure to keep my words friendly, even though I could not help the undertones of my annoyance at her insolence slip through.

“Hm,” she hummed shortly, practically looking down her nose at me from across the room. “It is, actually. Nik has never been one for love, right brothers?” she gestured to the two men for them to back her up, but it seemed like they knew to say nothing.

The scoff that left my lips was very much involuntary, but it seemed to add to her frustration which I admittedly took some pride in. “Hm,” I mimicked her sound, “that’s funny because he seems to love me an awful lot, at first I thought too much,” I giggled and the man in question did too, an effort to keep the tension light while subtly trying to keep her in her place. Which didn’t work.

“Interesting,” she didn’t sound like she cared in the slightest, giving up on making conversation with me and directing her next question to her brother. “It just shocks me, Nik, that you would go for her when you could have any woman in the world. I never thought you’d choose such an… average human.”

Klaus was practically seething, the more she spoke the tenser he got and the closer he approached to his tipping point.

“I mean,” she continued, clearly incredibly amused at both of our reactions, “why don’t you just dump her now and we could all just have a little snack? That’s what your plan is anyway, right? Dinner’s on you tonight.”

My hand stayed firmly on his leg to stop him from getting up, telling him softly that it was okay and that I had got this - I didn’t need saving, not from her.

“Where did you even find this chick?” Rebekah let out a shrill laugh but was quickly taken aback when she saw someone stand up in anger.

And it wasn’t Klaus.

It was an instinct to shoot up, and when Nik brought his hand to mine to get me to sit down I removed it and laughed back at her myself. “You know, you have some serious audacity, Rebekah,” I spat out her name as everyone watched on in suspense, waiting for the incoming catfight.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief, a choked sound coming leaving her throat before she returned, “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh,” I chuckled darkly, “I’m serious alright. You have no right to say anything about my relationship just because you obviously can’t get someone of your own. He’s your brother, you’re not his little lap dog. So hop off my dick little vamp girl and go find someone else’s to ride.”

The longer I sat there and listened to her kick-off, the more strength bubbled up inside of me ready to burst. Now that it was out I felt even better, especially when I saw her expression; eyes wide, mouth open, too stunned to get out more than a few intelligible stutters. Shocked that some ‘average human girl’ could fire back so strongly.

Meanwhile, as I spoke Klaus was watching over, but the smirk on his face was nothing but a proud one. He had to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing at how amazing this was - she usually carried such a sweet disposition, but the fieriness he was seeing now was definitely something he could get used to. He had always been a sucker for confrontation and riling his family up, and the fact that she could add to that made him love her even more.

“You little-” Rebekah spat furiously, slowly going to stand up herself.

I cut her off. “What? What else could you possibly have to say?” I looked at her expectantly, putting my hands on my hips, but she said nothing. “That’s what I thought. Now I see why Nik put you in a box for a hundred years. It’s been what? Fifteen minutes and you’ve already questioned my love, my loyalty, and shouted out death threats. You may be immortal, Rebekah, but you need to learn that that doesn’t make you a God.”

Every word I came back at her with only strengthened the grin on Klaus’ face - he loved his siblings in his own way, but nothing made him happier than seeing his girl stand up for herself and put them in their place. A few times he had to stop himself from getting up and intervening, but he couldn’t. He would’ve stepped in if he could tell this was taking a toll, but deep down he had always known that I was just like him, we were both just having too much fun.

Rebekah looked utterly defeated, clearly not used to having someone push back at her snarky comments so this was seemingly long overdue. So much so that I even earned a smirk and a look of newfound respect from the brother in formal wear, Elijah.

But that’s when blondie had finally had enough.

Within less than a split second, she sped over and grabbed me by the throat, pinning me to the wall at the back of the room and squeezing so my air supply was restricted, my feet dangling just above the floor.

“You dare speak to me like that, you filthy little…” she hissed, bringing her face close to mine and watching maliciously as my eyes grew wider.

But if I thought she moved fast, Klaus travelled at twice her speed in the blink of an eye, rushing to my rescue. His hands made quick work of prying her off of me and shoving her to the wall instead, reaching down to the back of his shoe where his trousers were baggy enough to conceal - and he pulled out a shiny, silver dagger.

I could do nothing but stand there stock still while the scene played out in front of me, the other brothers shooting up too but doing the same as me.

“Don’t you ever speak to her like that again,” his voice was low, yet scarily loud, but that’s not what seemed to panic Rebekah. No, she was focused on the dagger he held against her sternum, the point brushing against her top.

‘You take a dagger to her pride, I take a dagger to your heart.’ Klaus’ mind whirred with anger.

Just as she opened her mouth to plea for her brother's forgiveness or offer some half-assed apology which she would prove false the moment he let her go, he plunged the dagger into her chest. She let out a high-pitched wince as his eyes still burned into hers with pure loathing.

“Now, say you’re sorry,” he snarled darkly - so this was the Klaus I had heard about. Cruel, righteous, formidable. And the worst part; I wasn’t even scared. I may have gasped at the suddenness of his actions, but I could not help the feeling that arose within me when I saw him choose me over his own flesh and blood without so much as a second thought.

She choked on her own words, “I- I’m sorry.” Her eyes never left his.

His hand moved to twist the knife, releasing another squeak from the victim of his wrath. He spoke firmly and finally, as if this was her last warning, “To her.”

That’s when she finally turned her head to face me, “I’m sorry… Y/n.” It looked like it killed her to force out those words, but it was better than being killed again with the dagger that was hairs away from causing her to be put in a coffin for another century.

As soon as Klaus felt she had been sincere enough he ripped the blade out, his face still serious as he wiped the blood off on the fabric of his jacket. “Go,” he said plainly, not even wasting his energy on looking up from his hands. All three of them listened - I assumed that upon his revelation of the dagger (which none of them knew he had so close), they now were thinking only of themselves, fleeing the scene before they met their fates again.

They all vanished in one quick woosh leaving only me and Klaus who had shifted back into my sickeningly sweet Nik once more upon their departure.

I hadn’t even noticed that I had been clutching my chest this whole time, only taking it off when he moved his gaze to me and that wicked look in his eyes softened instantaneously into one that made me feel right at home, hurrying to me to make sure I was okay.

Without having time to even register everything that just happened I was encased in the arms of my saviour, him resting his head on top of mine while a hand moved up to gently stroke my hair. To anyone else, thinking of him acting in such a caring manner after being so ruthless would’ve been unimaginable. But to me? It was all I’d ever known.

“Shh. You’re okay, love,” he cooed before pulling back slightly and cradling my head in both his hands, bringing his soft lips to plant a tender kiss on my forehead.

I looked up at him like he was the only thing in the world; the way he had looked at me every time since the day we met.

“I’m sorry that I exposed you to that part of me, it was something I had hoped you’d never see.” Apologies didn’t come naturally to Klaus… that was, to everyone but me.

Nothing was said, I let my actions speak for themselves as a genuine smile formed on my face and I hopped up onto my tiptoes to kiss him fervently. He seemed rather shocked at the sudden change in tone, but it’s not like he was complaining. Instead, he happily reciprocated my movements, a mischievous, goofy grin left on him in the wake of my lips as I pulled back.

“Don’t apologise,” I shook my head at him in reassurance, “I thought it was sexy,” biting my lip in a teasing manner as I put his racing mind at rest - he truly was such a sweetie behind closed doors. It was honestly a shame the world would never see him the way I did - but then again, that would mean I would have to share him, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

His bright blue eyes lit up as I spoke, in a way as if to ask ‘Really?’

In response to his silent appeal for confirmation, I nodded.

“At least you’ve met them now so you finally know what I mean when I complain about my family,” he used a tone much lighter than before now that he wasn’t shouting or apologising.

A laugh escaped me, causing me to quickly cover my mouth, “I guess you weren’t joking, huh?”

Sighing in reply he shook his head in embarrassment, thinking he should’ve never taken me here in the first place. “Come, let’s go somewhere else, somewhere nicer.” His head cocked to the side as he held out an arm for me to cling to, signalling for us both to leave.

My hand graciously slipped forward to meet his request as we walked toward the door, looking up at him one last time. “You’re my hero, Klaus Mikaelson.”

Upon hearing the giggle I let out after my words his smile only widened. “Always and forever, my love.”

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requests in bio x

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[mingtinysworld]

Misbehaving pups

Pairing: Jongho x fem!reader x Yeosang

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: Yeosang has given you and Jongho instructions. You choose to not follow them and end up bearing the consequences

Warnings: MDNI, dom!yeosang, sub!jongho, sub!reader, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, dacryphilia, reader wears collar, reader and Jongho called ‘pup’, hickeys, oral (m! receiving), edging once, blindfold, fingering (f! receiving)

A/n: so fun fact, I actually dreamed about this kinda. In my dream Jongho was on the bed like that and I was kneeling with my head resting on his thighs. I woke up and I was like wow, I have to write this. And jongsang is such an iconic duo, I just had to. Hope you enjoy! Love youuu, please like, comment and reblog. - Jules<3

Networks: @newworldnet

“Can we just be really quick?” You look at Jongho with tears gathering in your eyes, lashes fluttering gently.

“No Y/n, you know we can’t. If he finds out we’ll be in so much trouble.” Jongho looks at you with an equally desperate expression, eyes and mouth saying different things.

“I mean…he doesn’t have to know,” You cock your head innocently, trying to entice him further. “You’re telling me you don’t wanna touch me?” He groans at your pout, wanting to smash his lips against yours, but he remembers the warning.

“Do NOT touch each other until I’m home. Got it?”

You both had nodded absentmindedly then, not realizing just how challenging it would be to refrain from touching one another. You look at the clock and see that it’s only one hour before Yeosang comes home, and the thirst for defiance is running strongly through your veins.

“He didn’t necessarily say anything about touching ourselves, just not each other.” You speak with a confident tone, feeding into the desires of Jongho. He’s torn between wanting to obey his master and giving in to his needs. He gives a slight timid nod and starts to remove his pants.

“Ok fine, but if he catches us, you’re taking responsibility.” He grumbles. You beam at him and take your spot against the floor. You lean back on the wall and look up at where Jongho is laying on the bed, bulge noticeable through his boxers. You long to touch him, but for now you’ll have to settle on touching yourself.

You slide your panties to the side and start circling around on your clit, moving in languid strokes. You hear a groan and force yourself to look up at Jongho, who has taken down his boxers and started touching himself softly. His cock stands tall with arousal, the tip leaking precum. You bite your lip hard and refrain from being too loud, needing to look out for the sound of Yeosang’s arrival.

“Ahh it feels too good.” You let out a pleased whimper, circling even faster. You can feel your wetness seeping out and slide in a finger. You train your eyes on Jongho’s hand going up and down, spreading his wetness around, resulting in a lewd squelching sound. You clench around your finger at the sight and bite your lip, so badly wanting to have him in your mouth.

Jongho grunts as he goes faster, his head thrown back and eyes shut tight. His breathing intensifies and sparks go up his spine. You add a second finger, moaning at the insufficient length of your fingers, needing something longer to reach your sweet spot.

Jongho cries out and his stomach convulses as he comes with thick spurts of cum coating his skin. He lets out a strangled whimper and clutches the sheets firmly. Right at that moment, the door squeaks open and in comes the form of Yeosang.

You squeak as you catch his eyes and remove your fingers at the speed of lightning. Jongho, still in his post orgasm aftershock, is too heavy in a daze to feel alarmed. Yeosang walks in slowly, with deliberate steps, taking in the sight of his puppies misbehaving.

“What’s happening here?” He speaks in a controlled low tone.

You feel your throat close up in panic and stutter pathetically, while Jongho just makes tiny whimpers. Yeosang crouches in front of you and dips a finger under your collar to make you look up at him. Your neck strains with tension but you don’t dare make a sound. You see the fire in his eyes and know you’re in for a long night.

He looks at your wide glossy eyes and tries to keep his gaze away from your plump spit covered lips. He just looks at you for a few moments and your heart beats faster and faster, feeling the need to explain yourself.

“I know you said to not touch each other while you’re gone, but y-you didn’t say anything about touching ourselves.” You explain, with a quiet voice.

“Don’t be a smart ass, you know damn well what’s allowed and what’s not.”

You open your mouth to speak but the look in his eyes tells you not to. “Don’t make it worse for yourself.”

He lets go of you and scoots to where Jongho is on the bed. Jongho casts his eyes downwards, too embarrassed to look Yeosang in the eyes. He fidgets with his fingers and gives a meek apology.

“I’m sorry sir, I’ve been bad.” He bows his head in shame, and Yeosang can’t help but feel a glimmer of pity for the man. He knows that you’re probably the one who influenced him to be bad, so he decides to go slightly easier on him. Without looking away from him, he addresses you.

“Y/n, come kneel by the bed.” He directs with a commanding tone, no space for an argument present.

You do as he says and crawl to the bed to kneel at his feet. You look up at him and await his next instructions patiently. He stands up to sit on the other side of Jongho, furthest from you.

“Lay your head on his thighs.”

You obey once more and lay your head on him, cheek against his thigh. At this proximity, his cock is right by your face, as if taunting you. If you were to stick your tongue out, you would’ve been able to feel him. Yeosang approves with a hum and turns to the side table to get something out. He fishes through the drawers and emerges with a silk blindfold. He gently wraps the fabric around Jongho and cups his face to caress him.

“You’re still my good boy aren’t you?” He asks in a soothing tone. Jongho’s heart skips a beat and he flushes.

“Yes sir, I am.” He answers earnestly.

Yeosang proceeds to peel his shirt off and he prompts Jongho to take his off as well. Seeing both of their exposed chests fills you with sparks, as if fireworks went off. Desperately needing a release, you whimper, but Yeosang doesn’t even bat an eye. He throws a leg over Jongho and straddles him, your face being mere inches from his butt. You grumble unhappily and Yeosang clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“Don’t complain, this is your punishment. Stay still and don’t make a sound. It’s your own doing.”

He crashes his lips against Jongho and kisses him passionately. He holds onto his shoulders and his hips move against his own will. He grinds down onto Jongho’s once again hardening erection, eliciting sweet moans from his mouth. As the two are heavily making out, you can’t help but squirm from being able to hear but not see them. Your thighs are slick with arousal and you’re reminded of your stolen orgasm from earlier.

“Please sir, let me at least look.” You softly cry out, needing something to satiate you.

“Do not speak unless spoken to.” He growls against Jongho’s mouth.

You close your eyes in resignation, but can’t help but feel guilty and needy. You’re sorry for disobeying Yeosang, but you’re also so desperate for an orgasm that you’d do anything. Your eyes fill up with tears and you do your best to hide your impending crying. The tears drop silently for a few moments but soon sobs come accompanied by hiccups.

As soon as Yeosang hears your cries, he stops his movements and moves off of Jongho to face you. You finally get a glimpse of Jongho’s red and bruised lips, made pretty by Yeosang. Yeosang reaches out to stroke your hair, which would usually be a soothing motion, but it makes you cry even harder.

“Aw pup, this is overwhelming isn’t it?” He coos at you and wipes your tears away with his thumb. “Alright, I’ll let you watch.” You whimper in relief and open your tear stained eyes to watch.

He slots his lips against Jongho’s once more, but this time he angles his body in a way so that you have a clear view. Yeosang takes an opportunity to twist Jongho’s nipple. He whines into his mouth and bucks his hips up, right by your face. Yeosang keeps pinching and twisting as Jongho flails around helplessly.

“You’re so shameless. Doing whatever Y/n tells you to do. You know better.”

After a few moments, Yeosang turns to you with an evil grin. He grabs your hair and yanks you up so that your head is no longer laying down. You yelp in pain but say nothing in fear you’ll anger him further.

“I want you to get him so close to the edge but don’t let him cum.”

Your eyes widen at Yeosang. He’s never made you do something like this before. Only he’s ever edged you or Jongho, but never instructed one of you to do it. You nod at him, signaling that you’ll go through with his request. He lets go of your hair and your eyes fall onto the very red tip of Jongho’s cock. Even though he’s already come once, he looks eager to get a second release. One that’s not gonna come easily though.

You latch your lips around the tip and hollow your cheeks. You wish that you could see his beautiful eyes reacting to you, but you can settle for the twitches and jerks in his body. He bucks up, wanting to go deeper in your mouth. Yeosang however will not let him. He holds down Jongho’s hips firmly and Jongho lets out a whine of complaint.

You lick the underside of his shaft, slowly going up. One of your favorite things is to tease Jongho, him never failing to give a pleasing reaction. You sink down completely and he groans unabashedly. You can feel him in the back of your throat and you instinctively try to swallow, resulting in you choking awkwardly. You hold out though, keeping him in there for a few moments.

You come up for air and take in deep breaths before continuing. You go up and down, using your hand for the exposed part. Yeosang looks on as if he’s mesmerized. He can’t believe how much he lucked out by having you two being his.

“P-please, please let me come.” Jongho’s voice sounds so desperate it makes your core throb with need. You make eye contact with Yeosang and he shakes his head slowly, telling you not to let him come.

As much as you want to have your mouth filled with Jongho’s seed, you obey Yeosang and rip away his orgasm. You pop off of him abruptly and immediately Jongho whines like a child. He sniffles and you see the tears falling past the blindfold. You clench around nothing at the sight of him crying, and look to Yeosang for the next instructions.

You two lock eyes and he gives you one approving nod. You take this positive reaction in stride and dive down on Jongho again, this time with a mission to make him come as hard as possible.

“Oh god.” Jongho lets out a broken wail, hands searching to hold on to anything to ground himself. You hollow your cheeks and go deeper and deeper. Jongho can’t hold it anymore and he grabs ahold of your hair, pulling you up and down on him. Gurgling noises are heard and Yeosang can’t help but palm himself through his pants.

You let out a helpless muffled moan as Jongho thrusts his hips upward, chasing his high. You close your teary eyes, not even doing anything at this point, simply taking it all. After a few more shallow thrusts Jongho comes in your mouth, white painting your mouth and throat. The liquid dribbles down your chin and onto his pelvis. Yeosang lifts you up by your collar and you take a deep gasp of air, oxygen filling your lungs. Yeosang takes a finger and scoops up the cum, having a taste of the bittersweet essence.

“Mmm you taste so good.” He closes his eyes, savoring the flavor. Jongho twitches with sensitivity and touches Yeosang to tell him that he wants the blindfold off. Yeosang takes it off and Jongho squints from the harsh light. His eyes are red and wet, and his cheeks are streaked with tears. He takes in your mess of a face and takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“God I- you look so- wow.” He stumbles over his words and you can’t help but giggle. “But you didn’t cum yet.” He says with a sad pout. You look over at Yeosang and he pats his thighs.

“Come sit here.”

You get up to lay in between his legs, back against his muscular chest. He spreads your legs apart, legs hooked on top of yours to keep you open. “Jongho, you just lay there and watch.”

Yeosang dips a finger into your cunt and you moan happily, finally getting the touch you’ve been craving. His fingers go into a frantic pace as he draws out happy little whimpers from you. Jongho looks on, completely transfixed. His eyes are glazed over and chest is slowly rising and falling.

“You’ve been waiting for this haven’t you? You’re such a good pup, letting me do whatever. You feel so warm and tight I can’t even imagine what my cock would do to you.” He whispers the lewd words in your ear, sending tingles through your body.

“I want your cock.” You say pathetically.

Yeosang tuts softly and continues his abuse of your pussy. “Not today pup, I know you’re too tired for it.” You think about complaining but think better of it. You’re just grateful to get his pretty, slender fingers in you.

He fingers you with an unrelenting rhythm, not slowing down or giving you any chance to breathe. You can’t help but arch your back against him, but your body resists going any further because of his tight hold on you. He curls his fingers up, hitting a sensitive spot and you cry out. You pant like a dog in heat, every inch of your body twitching.

Yeosang attaches his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking in deep purple marks, humming appreciatively. He loves when you get so responsive, it’s his one of many favorite things about you. As much as you try to hide your noises, it’s no use because the way Yeosang knows your body inside and out is matchless.

His thumbs sneaks to your bundle of nerves and circles frantically, desperate to make you cum. You close your eyes and clench your whole body as you cum intensely, so intense that your ears block out every sound around you, making everything muffled. You can barely breathe, your breaths sounding like wheezes.

“Hi beautiful, there you are.” Yeosang pushes the hair out of your face, revealing your sweaty but stunning features. You whimper in response, too drained to get a single word out. “That was a lot huh.”

He grabs your limp body and lifts you off the bed. As he gets off he makes sure to give Jongho a loving and reassuring kiss, showing him that he appreciates and adores him.

“My most beautiful pups.”

[inlovewithpandora]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ — Summers Of Pandora ᝰ Day 7 - Makeup Sex

Artists — Neteyam x fem!Omatikaya!reader

Lyrics — You’ve been feeling neglected lately and you’ve tried to express your feelings to Neteyam but he hasn’t taken notice to your hints. When you make him listen and understand how you’ve been feeling he apologizes and makes it up to you in the best way possible, with sex.

Music Advisory — nsfw content, porn w/ plot, suggestive/allusions to sex, light angst, caught masturbation scene (reader), Olo’eyktan!Neteyam, arguing, light/implied neglect

Duration — 2.4k words

Index — Olo’eyktan - Clan Leader • Yerik - Hexapede • skxawng - moron • yawntutsyìp - darling; little loved one • Yawntu - beloved person; lover; loved one

Words from Artist — This was a fun fic to write, writing the argument scenes and upset!reader was my fav part! Always feel free to comment and reblog, I love reading y’all reactions! I hope you enjoy!!

Current Platforms — event m.list・main m.list・event taglist ・prompt list

Ever since Neteyam took over the role of Olo’eyktan he’s been extremely busy, trying to make sure the village is running smoothly under his ruling so it’s been hard for him to carve out time in his schedule to spend time with you. Due to him being so busy it’s been causing a strain on your relationship emotionally, physically, and most of all sexually.

It’s been almost two months since you’ve been intimate and it’s weighing on you. You’ve been subtly saying things and doing certain actions, hoping that he would catch your drift and realize that you want him but he was too consumed by his new position to read between the lines.

Today he finally has the afternoon off in a long time so you’re excited to spend some time with him, happy that you finally have a chance to rekindle your spark and hopefully gain the romance back in your relationship.

You’ve been making lunch for the both of you to consume for the last hour, wanting to make sure everything is perfect for him when he comes home so when the sound of the entrance flap opening hits your ears, you immediately perk up and a wide smile spreads across your lips as you add the final touches to the food you’re cooking. “‘teyam I just finished lunch and I made your favorites!” You turn around to face him, ready to engulf him with a hug but when his bow makes it into your line of sight your smile quickly falls. “Why do you have your bow?”

“I’m going with the hunting party.” Before Neteyam came home one of the warriors told him the clan had an insufficient amount of meat stored and they need to collect more so they can be stocked for the next few eclipses and not have to worry about hunting for food.

“Can’t Lo’ak lead them? Why do you have to go?”

“Because, I’m Olo’eyktan. I have to lead them, it’s my duty.” Neteyam feels like since the clan is still adjusting to him as leader instead of his father he feels like he should be included in everything that’s going on in the clan which includes hunts. He knows that there are warriors that are more than capable to lead a hunt but he wants to do it so he can establish and solidify his new authority.

“But this was supposed to be your time off, you promised me that today we would spend time together.” You’re beginning to grow frustrated at the fact your mate is putting more of his attention on the wellbeing of the clan than noticing how this is affecting you. You know how important being Olo’eyktan is and how excited he is about taking over the new position but you just don’t want your relationship with him to falter in the process.

“Can you please just put the village aside for now and just focus on me?” You plead with soft eyes, placing your hand on his cheek, hoping he would prioritize you at this moment. “I’ll make it worth your while.” Your tone turns slightly sensual as your hand slowly runs down his chest towards his abs, making their way to the rim of his loincloth so you touch your favorite part of his body, the part you’ve been craving to have for so long. You’re hoping that a gesture towards being intimate will make him want to stay, especially since it’s what you’ve been wanting to happen.

Neteyam opens his mouth, about to speak but before the words can escape his lips a foreign voice comes out of the blue. “Come on bro, everyone is waiting on you!” Lo’ak shouts from outside your mauri, coming to see what’s taking his older brother so long to come join the hunting party. By the look in your mates eyes you can tell he’s still firm on his decision with leaving which makes you upset and roll your eyes at him, hating that once again he’s choosing the clan over his own wife.

“Fine, Neteyam. Have it your way, go be Olo’eyktan!” You remove your hand from his skin and begin to shoo him out of the marui, not even wanting to look at him anymore. In your eyes Neteyam didn’t care about spending any quality time together so why should you? While he’s trying to put together a sentence you push him out the marui and close the doorway flap and tie it shut, not wanting to hear whatever weak apology he was trying to muster up.

At this point you’re fed up, you’ve tried and tried to make Neteyam notice you, trying your best to make it known that you need him, that you yearn for him and he gives you absolutely nothing in return. You haven’t been able to have him pleasure you in the ways you adored, his hands running feverishly down your body, his mouth latched to your breasts, and his fingers clawing at your slick covered walls.

You miss those moments with him and whenever you attempt to initiate something he always says he’s ‘too tired’ or ‘too busy’. You’re tired of denying yourself pleasure just because he won’t provide it so you decide to take matters into your own hands, you’ll just have some intimate time with yourself.

—

After an hour of hunting Neteyam and the warriors were able to find a good amount of yerik and other animals for the clan to consume. Neteyam lands his ikran and begins to walk to your shared marui. He feels bad for leaving you home even though he promised to spend time with you for the first time in ages so while he walks his mind is filled with different activities for both of you to do since he’s home for good.

While his mind whirls with different plans and ideas the sound of light moans and whimpers pulls him out of his thoughts. At first he assumes it’s just some random couple somewhere in the forest that are having sex but he soon realizes the sounds are coming from the direction of your marui.

Being the skxawng he is, he doesn’t assume you’re doing anything sexual, he thinks you were hurt and in pain, even though your choice of sounds clearly say otherwise. He speedwalks to the marui, slightly pulling back the flap to see what’s occurring inside. When he peeks his head inside his eyes lay on the most majestic sight, your beautiful naked physique sprawled out over the bed, your finger circling over your puffy clit while every so often dragging your fingers between your wet folds.

Slick, wet noises are accompanied by your angelic voice as you begin to thrust your fingers into your sopping, dripping cunt imagining it was Neteyam’s cock stuffing you to the brim. “M’fuck ‘teyam!” His name rolls off your tongue like sweet nectar, as your fingers curl against your g-spot, making your brain become fuzzy with pleasure. Your body feels so good and relaxed, it’s been so long since you’ve felt something around your velvety walls or fingertips slightly pinching your nipples enough to shoot a wave of pleasure down your spine so you couldn’t hold back your whimpers or moans, or control how your arousal is dripping down your hands and smearing your thighs.

To see you pleasing yourself and chasing your high, arching your back, how your mouth hangs open when you hit your soft spot, how swollen your clit is from you rubbing it smoothly with your danty fingers, and how your starting to cream with each thrust of your hand, causes his loincloth to tighten from his growing bulge due to the sight of you.

He doesn’t know the reason behind you doing this act but he’s curious more than anything. He pulls the flap back and attempts to quickly walk inside and not make any noise but his tail has other plans when it decides to thump against the floor.

Your eyes open at the foreign noise and your eyes meet Neteyam’s, causing you to feel a hint of embarrassment from him witnessing you that way. You hurriedly grab a woven blanket that’s nearby and cover yourself up, trying not to feel so exposed. “Neteyam, what are you doing back so soon?” You hiss, not liking the fact you were interrupted right when your orgasm was going to ripple through your body and it was finally going to make you feel sexually satisfied, something you haven’t felt in a long time. When he’s usually with the hunting party he’s out for at least two hours so you expected to have more than enough time to satisfy your needs without him knowing.

Neteyam ignores your question and asks his own. “What were you doing?” He knows what you were doing, he’s not an idiot, but the real question he asked was ‘Why you were doing it?’ and you know that.

“It doesn’t matter Neteyam, just leave me alone okay?!” You stand up with the blanket wrapped around your body and walk to the other side of the marui, not wanting to be in the same space as him after what he did earlier. You’re still angry with him for leaving you alone, making you resort to pleasing yourself when he’s more than capable of doing it if he would just spend time with you.

“Yes it does matter, you’re my mate and I-”

“Oh, now I’m your mate? I don’t feel like much of a mate when you don’t make time for me anymore!”

Neteyam doesn’t know what you’re talking about, he feels like both of you have been spending a good amount of time together. Yes, he knows that he’s been a little busier than usual with him now being Olo’eyktan but from his perspective he feels like he makes out enough time for you, or does he? “What are you talking about, I make time for you, for us!”

The scoff that emerges from your throat is so harsh that it makes Neteyam regret his previous sentence. At this moment you’re so angry with him because how doesn’t he understand. First he doesn’t spend any real quality time with you and then he has the nerve to stand in your face and lie. “What am I talking about?! We haven’t gone on a date in months, we haven’t been able to sit down and eat dinner and have a real conversation in weeks, and we haven’t had sex in Eywa knows when!” Your tone is fierce and loud, thankfully your marui is in a secluded area in the forest because you know your voice is echoing and if anyone was nearby they would hear everything you’re saying.

“You haven’t touched me in months, Neteyam! You’ve been so busy with being Olo’eyktan you forgot about me and my needs, you put everyone before me, before your mate!” As you ramble on, finally releasing all your build up emotions that have been weighing on your chest, Neteyam begins to process your words and realization settles in his mind. He begins to think back to all the times he’s unknowingly brushed you off to the side.

Neteyam was sitting at the wooden table in the center of your marui, brainstorming new raid strategies for when the hunting party strikes against the RDA. You saunter over to Neteyam with a smile on your face, happy to see your mate after a long day. You’ve been waiting for him to come home so he could satisfy your desires. “‘teyam you should come to bed.” You stand behind him, placing your hands on his shoulders running them down his muscular chest.

“I can’t yawntutsyìp, I have to finish this tonight.” He says, weaving his head to the side as you try to place soft kisses on his cheek. After multiple attempts of trying to get you to come to bed and him turning down your pleas, you turn on your heels and sigh, sluggishly walking to your bed, without having Neteyam by your side.

Playing that memory in his head makes him realize that he hasn’t been prioritizing you the way he thought he was, that he’s been too busy worrying about his new position than his own wife. “Yawntu, I’m sorry. I now realize that,” His hand reached out to touch you but you jerk away from him with a scowl across your face, not wanting him to touch you. He doesn’t say anything in regard to your actions, knowing he deserves it for his poor treatment toward you. “I now realize that I’ve been neglecting you and our relationship and I’m really sorry. I feel like such a skxawng for not noticing it sooner, please forgive me.”

By Neteyam’s tone of voice you can tell he’s sincere and truly sorry for his actions but you aren’t going to just forgive him that easily, he has to work hard for your forgiveness, it’s the only way you can make sure he doesn’t put you both in this situation again. “Prove to me how sorry you are and maybe I’ll forgive you.” Neteyam thinks you are joking at first but when he hears the sternness of your voice he knows you are serious. He does want to show you how sorry he is and make up for all the nights he’s left you lying awake longing for his sweet touch so he’s willing to do whatever it takes to be back in your good graces.

He looks at the empty table behind you and an idea clicks into his mind. Before you can process what’s happening you feel Neteyam lift you up and place you on the wooden table, unwrapping the blanket that’s covering your body and letting it fall down on the surface below you. His hand snakes around your neck as he leans forward and presses his lips against yours, slipping his warm tongue in your mouth, beginning to make up for lost times.

Neteyam knows exactly how to make your body melt from overstimulation and cause your eyes to roll to the back of your head so even if it takes all day and night, even if he’s worn out from rutting into your tight hole, even if his jaw is hurting from eating out your delicious pussy, he doesn’t care if his body is sore and covered in hickeys, as long as his beautiful mate is satisfied and forgives him that’s all that matters to him.

Fanbase — @eme1hyst @o-kingston @erenjaegerwifee @Kaydoux @biaaaaaaaa1 @hikotaru @thisaintredwine @lexieeeeeeeei @that-gurl25 @Peanut713521 @anemonelovesfiction @32saucy-minx @rae @bigdikzaddy @laylasbunbunny @merlinbtch @morisim @btsiguess-kpop @sussybaka10 @galactict3a @shima @eyrina-avatar @headsincloud9 @buble787635 @normspellmann @em-x0 @sliqeramx @lexasaurs634 @yetanotherattemptatanaccount @myh3artttt @savagemickey03 @neteyamyawne @neteyamsblog @deadgirlrin @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @makaylalovessmut

— all rights reserved © INLOVEWITHPANDORA 2024. all fanfics belong to me, do not copy, translate, repost nor recommend on tiktok any of the works seen here.

[jiskblr]

Tumblr Rules for Redditors

Hello, fellow redditors! Many people are trying to tell you rules about how to Tumblr properly. Many of them are wrong, or assholes, or both. I am also an asshole but I’m going to not be one for a minute to give you some advice:

“Reblog this or you’re a bad person” and any variation on that is a violation of intergalactic law. Don’t do it. Also, refuse to comply if someone else does it.

Generally, people can see what you reblog, but cannot see what you ‘like’. A like may seem like an upvote, but it is much less significant than one, since it doesn’t affect visibility in the slightest. A like will be visible both to the OP of the thread, and to the person whose reblog you put the like on. Like promiscuously! It feels good to get likes and there’s no downside. (Unless you are a space alien AKA influencer.)

Tumblr nominally has the ability to browse global tags (e.g. seeing the entire site’s posts and reblogs tagged #superwholock or #reddit exodus) and to search the site for things. No one uses them and they don’t really work.

You are probably less surprised by this than denizens of literally any other website on the internet, but there’s no algorithm here. Chronological order only. (If you’re using the search or global tags, they might have an algorithm, but if they do, it doesn’t work. We don’t know because we don’t use them.)

Anyone can have absolutely any conversation in the notes of your post that they like. This is how the website works. You are allowed to complain about it, but don’t expect anyone to humor you.

Many people have ‘DNI’ lists in their blog descriptions. This means ‘do not interact’ and indicates that they don’t want you to message them, reblog from them, reblog any posts they are OP of, or even, sometimes, ‘like’ their posts. It is good manners to respect these, if you know they exist, but in normal use you probably won’t look at blog descriptions very often so it is entirely okay to violate them by accident. (When the lists get very long, it becomes impractical to check whether you violate them. Generally, just skip it. You probably don’t want to interact with those people anyway.)

Notes on posts you start will go to you no matter how many intervening hops there are on the reblog chain. If you get a post with an enormous amount of notes, this can get overwhelming. Whatever the current incarnation of Xkit (basically RES for Tumblr except we’ve switched names and maintainers seven times) is, will have a setting to deal with this. If that’s insufficient, the suggested course of action is to reblog your OP to your own blog so that you have a copy for posterity’s sake, and then delete the OP. This silences the notes.

If you and another user both follow each other, you are ‘mutuals’. This makes it much easier to have conversations with each other, which is ordinarily sort of hard since everything is purely chronological. Frequently your mutuals are your friends; if not yet true, they may become your friends.

When you reblog things, you can write words both in the word part and in the tags, Modern tumblr norms are to write long rambling tags in full sentences rather than put words in the main body. Do not that only the first four tags in the list can be searched on. Unlike some other norms, violating this one and putting your response in the body of the reblog is not particularly rude. The worst it does is make a reblog chain long. Probably don’t reblog things and just say “This.”, though.

If you want to search your blog, consider Siikr. Don’t overuse it, it’s one guy’s project.

Be verbose! This ain’t Twitter, no character limit. (Not even the really large character limit of a reddit comment.) Write a 3000-word story in a single reblog if you want, that sounds awesome. Use ‘read more’ if you do, though. Posts can be very long, one of our oldest memes is about this.

Infinite scroll is the default, but you can turn it off. Actually, check all the settings, many of them will improve your experience.

Everybody be excellent to each other!

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Insufficient Pt. 3 | Azriel/Eris x Reader

Summary: Your journey to Autumn Court doesn’t go exactly as planned, but you do pick up some entertaining company along the way, who also happens to be useful in getting you where you need to go.

Word Count: ~ 3.5k

Warnings: horse getting a bit scratched up, big scary monsters, rock juggling, allusions to abuse, platonic!lucien & reader, sassy luci, knife, blood

A/N: y’all I’m so sorry this is so late…school just started and I’ve also just started writing for cod too since I’ve been obsessing over it, so here’s some food for you guys, eat up<3

Requests are open!

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As it turned out, traveling was a lot more difficult than you had originally thought.

It wasn’t just getting on a horse and riding until night, starting a fire, and all that. Sure, you’d been around for a decent amount of time for a Fae, nothing close to centuries, but you still didn’t have much knowledge on things like that.

Most of your life had simply been with your family in the family home, spent in a warm house with plenty of food and water to spare. Not many hardships, nothing.

The first night you’d gone out had been rough.

Riding a horse for nearly six hours straight had made your thighs ache more than ever before, feeling as if someone had just beaten them with a rolling pin. Not to mention the fact that you hadn’t been able to get a decent fire going, so you’d eaten some cold dried meat in your pack, and curled up in a small den that was deserted by whatever animal had made it.

You were only on your second night when things already began going wrong. The woods were thick from where you were skirting the borders, tangy magic thick in the air from the protections most High Lords kept over their courts after Amarantha’s reign of terror. Your horse was tiring, sweat coating her mane, and your beads of sweat gathered on your forehead despite the chill of the night.

You slowly pulled the reigns back, slowing her to a stop when you got to a small clearing, before throwing a leg over and slipping off. Your knees nearly buckled when your feet hit the ground, sparks of pain flitting through them before fading slowly. The horse huffed, following as you led her by the reigns over to a little wall of stone in a mountain, a little roof provided by an overlook above. It looked relatively untouched.

Unbuckling the clasps and setting the mare free, though she never wandered far, somehow knowing better, you put the bridle down close to you.

Too tired to eat, you scooted backward, sitting slowly down as you resisted a groan with how your legs ached. Your eyelids felt heavy, and your body and movements were sluggish. Before you could even get a single coherent thought through your brain, you slipped into a deep sleep.

What must’ve been hours later, or at least felt like it, you drowsily opened your eyes when you heard the nervous nicker of your horse. Dark, splotchy figures stood nearly twenty feet away, concealed barely by trees. Maybe three of them.

They whispered and muttered quietly amongst themselves, sometimes in a language you couldn’t understand, other little English words snagging your mind. Inhuman eyes, two of them each, shifted your direction, and your eyes shut immediately.

Playing dead.

They must’ve bought it since they went back to their hushed whispers. Your mind, now fully alert and panicking, tried making sense of it. Maybe they were other travelers, like you? But outside of any court? They had looked at least 8 feet tall, thin, and cloaked in black that only served to remind you of the very male you were running from.

You heard your mare nicker again before a hoarse cry came out of it, and a scuffling sound. Your eyes opened almost involuntarily, being given a front-row view of the creatures, whatever they were, and their bony hands as they reached towards the poor animal, trying to drag it towards them as their shadowy maws opened. Whispers turned more excited.

Your body was frozen between shock and terror as you watched one of them grab the horse’s front legs, then back legs, both in different hands and begin pulling.

The horse cried out.

The hands pulled.

A disgusting ripping sound, but not from the horse.

From your dagger, embedded in one of the thing’s shadowy hands that were somehow physical, ripping the skin and flesh.

It hissed, dropping the horse, but the wound you’d made on it closed immediately as it flicked your dagger away.

You were at the horse’s side in less than a second, for some reason in a defensive position, lip curling to bare canines at the things. As you looked at the largest one dead in its cold eyes, a realization dawned on you.

Skinwalkers.

These things were skinwalkers.

It should’ve been obvious to you from the start. The dark but physical body, the dead, shining eyes, the giant frame, and clawed hands. It was then that you had another realization.

Skinwalkers didn’t eat horses. In fact, according to an old mythology book your grandmother had owned, they only ate humans. Then why-?

“A fine catch we’ve gotten ourselves..”

It said, tone between a hiss and a purr at the same time, mingling in a sound that made every cell in your body want to run and never look back. If a direct stab hadn’t done anything to kill or even harm it, then what would it take to kill one, if not the three to four that were in the group?

“Not very clever,”

One hissed in a hushed tone, and another peered down at you, dead eyes hungry.

“I told you it would work. They’re always so attached to those little animals..”

Another whispered, poking the horse, now cowering against the stone, looking for an opening to run although there was none. It pawed at the ground, stomping and huffing as if it would help.

A trap. It had been a trap, and you’d been stupid enough to fall for it. Of course.

“Get on with it, I'm starving.”

The last of the group hissed, jabbing the largest one with a pointed finger. The largest one bared its perfectly midnight black teeth and stalked closer to you. Backing up, you spotted a flash of movement to the very left, behind the group of skinwalkers.

Too fast to be a human or animal. Too slow to be another skinwalker. Which meant either it was Fae, or another creature waiting its turn to eat you, and you were praying for the former.

Between a few trees, a small face came into view, along with golden orange hair, a scarred face, a mechanical eye, and dark clothing. You tried not to stare, so the creatures wouldn’t notice him.

“It’s been too long since I’ve gotten to smell their fear, let me have a moment-“

The biggest spat, and they then began bickering in their unearthly tones, creating a temporary way of distraction. The male in the trees jerked his head towards your right, and you gave a confused face, turning to your right. All it was was a pile of big rocks. He sighed silently, mouthing something to you.

You couldn’t lip-read for the life of you.

After asking “What?” silently three times in a row, you finally understood what he was saying.

“Distract them.” He mouthed, clearly agitated as he frowned, giving you a judgmental look. Sassy for a male, this one was.

The creatures seemed quite distracted amongst themselves at the moment, but you knew once that ended, everything would be over for you. You needed a distraction, and their hushed whispers were getting less frenzied, quieter, and slower. They agreed on something.

Your mind rushed to find something, anything and thought back to the pile of rocks the male had originally jerked his chin to.

You slowly moved towards it, eventually reaching it, before the creatures came to a final consensus.

“No, no, you don’t get to escape.” One hissed through its teeth as it grabbed the back of your shirt, dragging you back in front of the largest one, but instead of slaughtering you, they were left dumbfounded when you began throwing rocks up in the air, catching them, and throwing them again.

Juggling. You were juggling the rocks.

“What is it doing?”

The smallest asked the largest in a slightly concerned whisper, or as concerned as a skinwalker could be, and the giant shadowy figure only silently watched.

“Is it diseased?”

A second asked in a hushed whisper, poking at you with a finger, only for you to yelp and hop away on one foot, unable to regain your balance while continuing to juggle the rocks, meaning you were now constantly hopping on one foot.

Juggling was a trick you’d originally learned to impress some of your younger cousins and nephews and whatnot, and mostly forgotten, but it had somehow kicked back into you at the last moment.

Eventually, though, they continued poking at you, and you dropped a rock on one’s finger, before deciding to fully commit and hurling the two remaining ones at the shadowy beasts while falling flat on your ass.

They hissed, swatting them away, but only getting halfway through the motion before a giant blaze of flame consumed them, trapping them in a burst of golden light, and then they were just…gone.

Not even a pile of ashes, no bones, no remains, nothing.

However, the male from earlier was there, walking through the now-black grass, offering you a hand while giving you an odd look. You took it, and he sighed, offering his name. It sounded mildly familiar, probably because you’d heard snippets of the bond between him and Elain before, but it was a topic most people avoided in Night Court. His hair meant he was Autumn Court, no doubt.

“Lucien.”

He said simply, and you swallowed, immediately going to your horse’s side and checking her.

“Y/N.”

You replied, hands smoothing over your horse’s coat, trying to soothe the spooked animal as it nervously nickered and scraped its hooves against the ground, bringing up dirt.

“That was certainly one way of…distracting them.”

He said in a tone that barely held back that he thought you were insane, but also mildly entertaining.

“You looked at the rocks, didn’t you?”

You said, giving him a scowl, and he paused a moment, raising a brow, before shaking his head.

“I meant for you to go pull some out to unwedge the boulder up there to flatten them.”

He said, sass evident in his dry tone. You paused, glancing up at where you’d been trapped, and sure enough, there was a giant boulder above some of the rocks you’d used to juggle. Embarrassment heated your cheeks as you swallowed, eyes shifting back to your horse.

“Oh.”

He snorted at the reply, rather undignified for a pretty boy such as himself, shaking his head, before walking over to your horse as well and assisting in checking her.

“Only a few little nicks, nothing terrible.”

He said, and you gave him a look.

“A few nicks is terrible. Imagine if you were a horse and you had a few nicks.”

You replied, scowling once again at him, getting quite protective over the horse that technically wasn’t even yours. You’d only just stolen her a few days ago.

He gave you a flat gaze, before blinking.

“I do have a few nicks.”

A few seconds passed in silence, before he pursed his lips, sighed through his nostrils, and tapped the scar on his face with one finger.

“Ohh….. That is not what I meant.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t.”

“Shut up.”

“I just saved your life and this is how you’re thanking me?”

“I’m starting to wish you hadn’t.”

An exasperated sigh from him again, as those seemed to be his favorite form of expression.

“Why are you even out here?”

“Why are you out here?”

He gave you an annoyed look, something akin to almost a pout on his lips.

“I’m an emissary. It’s my job to travel between courts.”

You raised a brow, hand running over your horse’s dark coat.

“Why by foot when you can easily winnow? Going by foot outside of the court’s boundaries at that.”

More annoyance crossed his features before his hand went to rub the bridge of his nose.

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“So are you.”

“Just answer this, where are you going?”

You took a moment of pause, trying to consider whether Lucien was a man to be trusted, looking him up and down. When he raised a brow, you considered it a sure.

“Autumn Court.”

A well-covered-up sour look crossed his face.

“Why there, of all places?”

“I have people there I want to see, and other people I don’t want seeing me. So I’m going to Autumn Court. Using this way.”

He looked at you like you were stupid. You were not stupid.

“And you’re still taking this way?”

“Yes.”

“After almost being devoured by skinwalkers?”

“Yes.”

He frowned, hand going to run through his russet locks as he looked to be thinking.

“I could take you there, I suppose. We’ll still have to travel by foot, seeing as I used all my magic saving you.”

A slightly dirty look in your direction for him having to have used all of his magic just to save your sorry ass. You only gave a little frown, and a reluctant sigh as if you’d accept the offer. And you would. It wasn’t like you had any other choice, but if he was going to be all snarky about it, you would match it.

“Guess we’ve got a new travel buddy.”

You muttered to your horse, patting it on the head.

~

Your new travel buddy was surprisingly useful, as it turns out. He’d taught you how to forage, what was poisonous and what wasn’t, and what mushrooms you could eat if cooking them well enough (you brought home deadly mushrooms 90% of the time but you looked so happy when he said “good job” that he pretended they were normal and exchanged them for edible ones when you weren’t looking).

You were not meant for hunting, your arm was too unsteady to hold a bow well, fingers kept slipping off the string, the arrow wouldn’t stay straight…it was a mess. Your knife usage wasn’t much better, but you at least got one rabbit over nearly four days.

He hadn’t shared much with you other than his name, but you’d gathered that he was a Vanserra, Emissary for Night Court, and he was always talking about some band of friends named Vassa and Jurian. When you asked, he wouldn’t elaborate. Something about a Band of Outcasts.

He helped make the fire with his magic, and passed out at night, going into a deep sleep to recover what he’d spent of his energy that day, leaving you with the first watch.

Not many incidents occurred after the skinwalker one, but more than once you’d heard twigs snapping when they shouldn’t be, or bushes and leaves rustling. That was usually when you started adding more logs and thatch to the fire, and the noises quickly stopped after that.

You shared the food and drink with him, and he gratefully took it, most of the time both of you eating and discussing childhood meals you’d had to pass the time.

“My mother used to make the spiciest chili I’ve ever had, I couldn’t get it down without crying.”

“Seriously? Isn’t she like, a High Lady, though?”

“She might be a High Lady, but she’s a mean cook, and has a concerning tolerance for spice.”

“Damn. My grandparents make dishes all the time. Potato or tomato soups…lots of soups, but sometimes they’ll make this delicious curry, too.”

“Is the potato soup not bland?”

“No, they like…sauté onions and add salts and peppers, all that. It’s delicious.”

“Maybe I’ll get potato soup someday, just to try it.”

You had given a crooked grin at that, one he couldn’t help but smile at. You reminded him a lot of his younger brothers when they’d still been mere teenagers, except you were older, but still seemingly just as carefree and young at heart.

Your horse was carefree as well, mainly in the manner she didn’t care about anything you told her to do.

“Just lift your foot, it’s not that hard.”

You seethed, trying to pull her hoof up to pick whatever dirt and rocks had gotten into it out, so she didn’t get any sort of infection or injuries from it. However, she huffed and refused to do so much as to bend her knees. Stubborn thing.

Lucien strolled over, dropping a pile of gathered wood before observing the scene before him. He took the sharpened stick you were trying to use as a hoof-pick right out of your hands, and with the most feline ease you'd ever seen before, easily got the mare to lift her hoof, and he cleaned it out.

You stared, blinking, internally furious. He smirked lazily as he glanced over at you. The horse huffed again, this time more relaxed, and he looked a bit more curious then.

“What’s her name?”

Your mind blanked on that, you standing there silently like an idiot, before replying.

“I never really named her, considering I’m immortal and she’s going to die someday. Thought it would be better not to get attached.”

A lie. Not a full lie, but you’d really just forgotten to name her, and accidentally gotten attached along the way. Lucien raised a brow.

“You seemed awful attached when you attacked an eight-foot-tall-“

“Hush.”

He rolled his eyes, but obeyed, moving on to another hoof to clean.

“You should name her. Might make her listen to you better?”

He suggested, and you sighed.

“I don’t even know what to name her. I’m not great with naming things. One of the many reasons I’m never having kids.”

His lips twitched into a small smile at that, but quickly faded into a more thoughtful, deep expression, as if thinking hard about something.

A silence passed over you both as he worked, and you idly watched, toying with your hair, not sure and also not very willing to do anything else. He eventually spoke up when he finished cleaning out her hooves, looking the horse over. Her little nicks had been patched up by you and him days ago.

“Jesmind.”

“What?”

“Name her Jesmind.”

“Okay…any particular reason why?”

He shook his head at that, as if not going to talk about it any further.

“She just…reminds me of someone, is all.”

You raised a brow but didn’t push. Not when he went to go walk out into the woods, and you walked over to your dark mare, brushing your hand over her muzzle and looking into her defiant eyes.

“Jesmind, huh?”

You mused, testing how the name sounded on your tongue.

“Blink twice if you think it should be your name.”

The horse just watched, blinking once slowly, and when you made a flicking motion with your fingers, it blinked again, looking annoyed.

“Yeah, it’s perfect. Confirmed by the horse herself.”

You said, grinning to nobody in particular as you began walking away, trying to find Lucien, only to almost fall face first off of a cliff edge. One hand grabbed the back of the jacket you were now wearing, pulling you back up.

“We’re here.”

He spoke grimly. This place, Autumn Court, didn’t hold fond memories for him. You could tell. And from what you’d seen and heard of his family and court…you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d done awful things to him. There was a reason he’d run from here so many years ago, after all.

“How am I going to get down there?”

You asked, looking down the large cliff. It was too steep for Jesmind to go down, even trying to go on the sides of it wouldn’t work.

“I’ll winnow you both,”

He said all too casually. You blinked slowly, turning to him.

“I thought you couldn’t winnow, that you needed to regenerate your magic.”

He gave you an amused smile.

“I had more than enough magic to winnow you and your mare the first time we met.”

Your fury slowly began to rise as you gaped at this male in front of you.

“Then why-“

“I was bored, and you seemed like entertaining company.”

Before you could even muster a reply, he gave you a pat on the back, walking back to camp and returning with your horse in one hand and your things in another. He handed you your bag, which you slung around your shoulder, and you took the reigns of Jesmind.

“Will I see you again?”

You asked, and he gave a lazy, but genuine smile this time.

“I’ll never stop annoying you, don’t worry.”

You huffed a bit of laughter.

“That’s a relief.”

His hand went to your shoulder again, and the tangy iron scent of magic hit you once again like it had in the very beginning days of the journey.

“A word of warning,”

He then said, voice now serious.

“Stay out of trouble, and stay away from my brothers. The High Fae of Autumn are not people you want to get caught up with.”

You gave a nod, and in a flash of golden light and fire like a rising sun, you were then in the bustling streets of a city, no Lucien in sight, looking more than a little ghetto.

A horse in one hand, bag hanging from the other, wearing clothes that were best described as hunting clothes rather than the proper clothing most wore, you began walking, the sun so bright and heavy that you could barely see.

Jesmind nickered, pulling to the side of the street.

Just quick enough for you to walk straight into the chest of none other than Eris Vanserra.

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Lord Gojo Satoru [3 - end]

Thank you for hanging on Gojo's ship!

Warning: smut & fluff... daddy Gojo

Part two

.

Satoru glared at the two sleeping angelic faces beside him. His dearest Y/n slept peacefully next to the troublesome infant who had brought nothing but chaos since her unwelcome arrival.

The first night, Satoru had to stand his ground and refuse Y/n’s request to allow the infant to stay with them. Her justification was insufficient to allow him to agree, even her puppy eyes couldn’t convince him to agree.

“Ah, ‘Toru,” Y/n whimpered, legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

Satoru was close and nearly brought them to their orgasm when a high-pitched cry interrupted.

Y/n was deeply engrossed in their lovemaking and suddenly flinched, mood immediately changed in a matter of seconds as soon as she heard the baby's cries. Her attention was no longer on him as her legs unwrapped around his waist. “Satoru…” She pushed against his chest.

He groaned, in irritation, trying not to lose his momentum but unfortunately, his cock became limp. He dropped his weight onto Y/n, burying his face against her neck. “Fucken kid…”

“Satoru,” Y/n patted his shoulder, “please, let me go to her, she is probably missing her mother.”

“Yes, and it’s not you,” those words came out harsher than he meant, but it was honest. He lifts himself onto his elbow and sighs before getting off her. He slipped his flaccid cock out and rolled off of her, turning his back towards her. “Go. If you care so much about her, go.”

He heard rustling and closed his eyes tightly, expecting her to hurry towards the baby she had given all her attention to, tossing him aside like an old, used toy.

Satoru’s eyes snapped open when he felt warmth press against his back and her arm wrapping around his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he couldn’t see her face, which was buried against his back.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Sighing, Satoru rests his hand over hers, squeezing it. “I’m sorry too.”

She shook her head, “no, don’t be. You are right. I am not her mother, the maids are perfectly capable of handling her.”

Turning around, he maneuvered her into his arm and tilted her chin upward. He gazed into her lovely hazel eyes. He hopes his future children will inherit their mother’s beautiful eyes when they have their children.

“I love you,” Y/n whispers, “I am sorry if I made you feel like you don’t matter.” She understood Satoru well, knowing how effortlessly it took for him to feel like a secondary priority.

 “I’m just… not used to sharing you…” he pouted, feeling childish about his behavior. “Especially having to share you with this baby we have no idea about.”

“I understand,” she smiled pressing a kiss to his chin. “I will be more mindful and remember not to make you feel like you do not matter,” she paused, “but…” her voice choked, “you didn’t finish earlier?”

Reaching in between them, she wrapped her fist around his cock, feeling it jerk against her touch. Instantly, it became harder by the second.  

Satoru’s face scrunched up as he let out a shaky breath. He groaned, ready to burst on her hand. It didn’t help when her thumb brushed lightly over the tip, teasing him to no end.

Suddenly, he is flipped onto his back and his eyes widen when Y/n shifts until her mouth hovered over the tip of his cock. “Y/n, what –“ the rest of his sentence cut off the moment her mouth replaced her thumb. Her tongue swirled against the tip, warm and soft against the most sensitive part of him.

“If you don’t – if you don’t stop… I’ll cum in your mouth,” he uttered, shifting onto his elbows. He cannot deny that he has never wondered what her mouth would feel like and promised he would ease her into new adventures. Yet, here she was, surprising him.

Y/n licked along the length of his cock before asking, “you don’t want to?”

“I do and I don’t…”

Her head tilted and she grinned, “which one is it, Satoru?”

He pondered before saying, “your mouth… let me cum in your mouth – please…”

Y/n went to work, taking his cock into her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged but continued to please her husband and meet his needs.

“Y/n…” Satoru groaned, his hips jutting and rolling. “Please… please…”

Y/n moaned when warm and salty fluids shot down her throat. She quickly swallowed as much as she could before pulling away. His cum dribbled from the corner of her lips as some shot at her face.

Satoru was not sorry, the sight before him was erotic seeing cum splattered over his sweet wife’s face.

He pulled her on top of him and licked the streaks of cum on her cheek before flipping her beneath him. His hands were quick to push her thighs open and he pushed his semi-erect cock into her, which instantly harden.

She whimpered his name, a sound that delighted his ears.

He rocked his hips in slow and deep thrusts. Her name falls from his lips in breathless whispers, “I love you. I love you so fucken much…”

When he woke up, he was alone but had faint memories of Y/n whispering his name and telling him she would check on the baby. That must have been an hour ago.

Groaning, he rolled over to her side of the bed, pulled her pillow into his embrace, and inhaled her faint scent. She likely wasn’t aware that in such a short time, she had left her scent all over their home, providing him with comfort in every way.

.

Satoru’s expression is hard and cold as his men report to him.

“The baby is your half-sibling and birthed by the woman who was your father’s last mistress. She must have known about your execution order and hidden the baby with her sister who wanted no responsibility for the baby after using up all the funds to pay her to raise the child as well as using up the funds for the child.” He looks over at the woman kneeling before Lord Gojo, “which is why she left the baby at the entrance gate.”

“My sister was a whore, I want nothing to do with that cursed child,” the middle-aged woman spat. “Kill me, I ate and used all the money to my heart’s content, I am happy to –“

Her words were cut off as Satoru flickered the blood off his sword. “Get this body out of my sight.”

.

Watching irritatingly from the doorway, his loving wife hadn’t even acknowledged him and greeted him with sweet kisses like she normally did… before this baby came into the picture.

“What do you plan on doing with the baby?”

Satoru remained silent, whatever he wanted to do with the baby was now blocked by his wife. He knew there was no way she was going to allow him to get rid of this baby if she had a say in it.

Judging from how his wife adored this baby, he knew she deeply desired to be a mom.

He was not blind to her disappointment every month when her monthly bleed would arrive. It has been months and she hasn’t been with child even with their excessive lovemaking. Satoru doesn’t miss any opportunity to cum in her womb with hopes that his seed will plant itself.

He was a coward for avoiding the conversation, mostly because he did not want to upset her or make her feel it was her fault she couldn’t conceive fast enough.

For now, he is content with just the two of them. It wasn’t that he didn’t desire an heir, but the want of it merely stemmed from the clan leaders. He has only just reconnected again with the person he loves and would take the world down to keep her safe. He wants to just enjoy his alone time with her.

Satoru’s eyes narrowed at the happy baby, who shared identical eyes as his. This distinctive Gojo trait had always been dominant, and as far as the family record showed, no Gojo descendant had ever lacked the insignia of crystal light blue eyes.

But since this baby has come into their lives, he has noticed the change in Y/n. It was like a blessing in disguise. She adored this baby girl as if it were her own and did not care that it was neither her nor Satoru’s blood.

Y/n followed the baby’s eyes when she looked away distracted. “Satoru!” She called her husband sweetly. Standing up, without her cane, she limped at her pace towards him.

Satoru strode long strides to meet her more than halfway and wrap his arms around her. He lifts her and the baby in his arms, carrying them back to the couch. He silently scolds her for being reckless.

“Did your meeting go well?” She asked cheerfully, her face gleaming with the same joy she gave the baby. His heart eases a little, feeling loved.

“Yes,” he answered, brushing the loose strands of her hair behind her ear. He didn’t say what kind of meeting he would discuss about the culprit that left this bothersome baby in their hands.

Y/n smiled wide, “are you free to spend the rest of your day with us?”

Us? His eyes drop down at the baby who continues to stare at Satoru like he has three heads. “Yes,” he answered quietly. “I’m free now.”

“You hear that Himari? We can spend time together!”

“Hi – Himar- Himari?” Satoru stuttered, frowning at Y/n. “You named her?”

Y/n nods, “she needs a name, there was none indicated so… does it match her?” She stares at her husband with anticipation. “Should we… name her something else? I… was too excited I didn’t think to discuss it with you…”

He didn’t care what she named the baby but the fact that she named her indicated she was even more attached than he expected. Sighing deeply, Satoru shook his head. “No, the name suits her fine.” He meant that.

As if the baby felt his genuineness, she gave him a gummy smile.

.

His heart is softening at the baby and he hates it. He tried to maintain a distance with the baby but he couldn’t maintain a distance with his wife who was always with the baby.

Himari has taken a keen liking to Satoru as well. He is the first person she searches for upon waking up, crawling over to him and laying on him while cooing to herself.

The very first time she did it, Satoru froze. He was already awake and was about to move Himari over so he could pull his wife into his arms.

And if he was quick, they could make love.

Their love session has lessened as Himari slept with them. Y/n was often tired after spending all day with the baby and would fall asleep as quickly as Himari.

Carefully as ever, Satoru lifted the baby and placed her on his side of the bed. With satisfaction, Satoru was about to nuzzle against Y/n’s tits when the baby began to stir. Quickly he laid back down and closed his eyes, hoping she would go back to sleep. Just when he thought she went back to sleep, he felt something pressed against his chest. Cracking one eye, he sees the top of her head, her faint white hair.

She was laying her head on his chest, did she think he was Y/n?

Groaning silently to himself, he huffed in defeat that he wasn’t going to get to make love to his wife and threw an arm over his eyes.

“She likes you,” Y/n whispered, her arm snaking around his waist.

He moves his arm and shifts it underneath her head, pulling her close to his side. “Morning, my love.”

“Morning, my love,” she murmurs in return, pressing a kiss to his jaw and reaching over to ruffle the top of the baby’s head. “Morning ‘Mari.”

Hearing her name, Himari lifts her head and smiles at the two adults lovingly.

That’s how their mornings would begin.

But lately, Y/n has been tired, and often in a deeper slumber than usual. Looking over, Y/n was still sleeping soundlessly.

Reaching over, he ruffled the baby’s head, she immediately looked up at Satoru with wide eyes that were identical to his.

Himari cooed and smiled.

Sitting up he reached for her, holding her in front of him. “You have a bad habit of waking up way too early,” he teasingly scolded. He glances over at Y/n again seeing she hasn’t stirred yet. “Let’s let Y/n sleep longer today.”

.

Satoru’s brow furrows when his wife enters his office quietly. He is at his desk reviewing some paperwork that needs his attention. “Y/n?” He blinks, pushing the paperwork aside, and focusing on his wife. “Are you okay?”

She nods with a small smile and remains by the door.

He tilted his head, and ordered softly, “why are you standing over there? Come here.”

She makes her way over and he pulls her onto his lap. “Is Himari napping?” She nods, smiling bigger at the thought of him curious about the baby.

Y/n knows he does not want anything to do with the baby. When he finally revealed to her that Himari was his half-sibling, she couldn’t help but sigh in relief. Not because she suspected that the baby could have been Satoru but that the baby was related somehow. Gojo has revealed that he was the sole last remaining Gojo descendant.

She waited for Satoru to tell her what he planned to do next with the baby but he didn’t add on.

“What is it?” He asked, noticing her pained expression.

“What will happen to her now?” Y/n asked quietly.

His brow raised, “nothing?”

She raised her brow at him, mirroring his confused look. “Nothing?”

He blinked, wondering if he could have said something to confuse her. “Nothing. Nothing won’t happen to her, why do you ask?”

“You’re not going to send her away?” Y/n clarified.

“No,” Satoru answered, “why would I, she’s a baby?”

Y/n sighed in relief, eyes closed as a hand pressed over her heart. “Oh thank God.” She opened her eyes and smiled at Satoru, “I thought – I thought you would send her away.”

Satoru wanted to, and he still does. He smiles at his wife, “I know how much it would hurt to have you two separated.” That was all he had to say for his wife to burst out in tears, thanking him for allowing the baby to stay.

“I know you aren’t exactly… fond of her but…” She wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. “Thank you. Thank you, Satoru, for understanding.”

“She’s with the wet nurse, who will be her primary caretaker from here on,” Y/n informed, brushing her knuckles against Satoru’s cheek. His brow knitted together in confusion so she giggled and added, “for weeks now, with the help of Sumiko and others, we have carefully chosen a maid who will take sole responsibility for ensuring Himari is raised properly.” When that didn’t seem to answer the confusion on his face, only making him frown deeper, she made it clear. “Himari will be taken care of by her wet nurse from here on, taking much if not all the responsibility away from me.” She leaned forward and pressed her lips against his in a quick peck, “I missed you.” He groaned and kissed her until they were breathless. “I missed everything about you. Our team time. Our walks in the garden. Our conversations.” She knew all those moments with her husband had changed since Himari’s existence.  “I miss our lovemaking, Satoru.” Her hand slips inside the layer of his outfit until her palm makes contact with his bare chest.

Her husband has not touched her or made love to her in weeks.

“Why have you not touched me, my love? Do – not desire me anymore?”

Satoru groaned and gripped her wrist, forcing her palm over his heart. “This heart, beats only for you, Y/n. You, you own me, heart, body, and soul. I am yours.” His fingers dig into her thigh, “I have not touched you because you are exhausted and I do not want to tire you anymore, nothing to do with not desiring you. I will always desire you.”

Smiling and pleased to hear his response, she leaned and pressed her lips to his ears and whispered, “then please, Satoru, please make love to me.”

Y/n was bent over his desk in a matter of seconds and he was bunching up the ends of her kimono, tugging and pulling loose her sash that held her outfit together. She let out a fit of giggles that turned into a moan when he tore her panties and the material dropped by her ankle and was instantly filled with her husband’s cock.

Satoru savored the feeling of her wrapped around his favorite part of his body before thrusting hard and deep. His grunts filled the room along with her whimpers and the screeching of the wooden desk.

Hiking a leg of Y/n, Satoru pushed it onto the desk, changing the position and feeling deeper into her pussy. “Missed you… missed you so much…” he murmurs.

They have not had a proper lovemaking that he was close to his orgasm. He maneuvered her onto her back, fitting himself where he belonged in between her legs, and slowly thrust. His hand tugged open her kimono, wanting her naked.  

His body pauses as he is distracted by the beauty of his wife. She lay naked in front of him, her breasts and perky rosy, pink nipples puckered out begging for his attention. They look slightly fuller than he remembered. His eyes drop to her pussy where they are connected as one. Widening her legs, he slowly moves his hips and groans. He felt sensitive, sensitive to her touch and his own body. “I’m going to cum…” he declares softly.

Y/n reaches for him, beckoning to hug her.  He leans over her, allowing her to wrap her arms around his neck. “Me too…”

She missed her husband’s fullness inside her.

Keeping their eyes locked, Satoru rocked until Y/n came around him and he followed shortly.

Y/n gasped loudly, back arching as Satoru seed filled her womb to the brim. “Sa – Satoru!” her legs tightened at his side.

They embraced each other silently, letting their worlds sync into one, allowing it to be just of just the two of them in this moment.

Remembering she was pressed against his desk, he stood up but winced at her pussy clamping down around his sensitive cock. Slowly, he withdrew, watching his seed flow out lewdly. It dripped falling onto his foot.

His breath was finally calm and silently they just stared at each other. His eyes shifted lower, down her chest, which he recalled earlier noting they looked fuller and her nipples look darker but his eyes didn’t seem to stop and kept moving down until his breath hitched. He frowned, staring at her at her belly.

Y/n watches silently at his expression and giggles and grabs his hand, placing it on her abdomen. He may not know much about a woman’s body but he clearly recalls the softness of Y/n’s belly, yet… below his palm was firmness.

Satoru’s eyes dart between hers and where his hand rested, his voice lost.

“Feel that?” Y/n whispered, “it is our baby.” When he remained speechless, Y/n sat up. Her Kimono slips from her shoulder and pools loosely at her arms. “Are you not happy, my love?”

“Happy does not describe how I feel,” he finally answered, “are you… happy?”

Y/n nodded, tears pooling in her eyes. “I am, and I will be even more happy if you are happy.”

He nods, wiping away her tears. “I am happy, super happy. We’ll be a happy family, you, me, Himari, and our baby.”

.

Satoru loves a pregnant wife. He enjoys every second of it from watching the growth of his child in her womb to all the turmoil of a pregnant woman. All the emotional state to cravings, he made sure to be extra patient and meet her needs.

Himari no longer sleeps with them and Satoru can’t deny the emptiness he felt during the first few nights without her. Though he found some comfort in hearing that she was adjusting well to her new caretaker in the room next to theirs, it didn’t elevate the emptiness inside him. He no longer had someone disturbing his sleep in the morning and admitted his heart warmed knowing he was the first person she sought in the morning.

Now, he sought her out first thing in the morning.

If she was still sleeping, he would bring her back to their bed and place her between him and Y/n.

Without even realizing it, Satoru learned little by little with Himari’s help. He spent more time with her throughout the day, figuring out how to handle her tantrums and discovering new things together, preparing him for fatherhood.

Y/n’s heart would always nearly burst whenever she found the two of them bonding. The pregnancy emotions within her always made her cry.

They had no idea how old Himari was, only judged when she began walking that she would be about one year old.

“Good job, ‘Mari!” The adults cheered as the baby took more than four steps in total, she excitedly walked towards her favorite person, Satoru.

Y/n was close to giving birth, her feet swelled and with the weight of her belly, it was difficult for her to walk with her limp. After an incident of Y/n falling, Satoru and the family doctor restricted her from walking during the last few weeks of her pregnancy. Her strong husband carried her and had benches set up throughout the compound.

“I am fine,” Y/n assured, squeezing Satoru’s hand.

“I am not,” he answered honestly. He placed both his palms on her huge belly, huge for her petite physique. “Your belly has continued to keep getting bigger and it’s concerning me how big this baby is inside you…” he swallowed the lump in his throat.

He’s heard of women dying from childbirth and now that his wife was close to giving birth, he was terrified. Satoru has sought various midwives and doctors with many years of experience to be ready to assist when the time comes.

“’Toru,” Y/n called his name softly, “we’ll be okay.”

That eased a little bit of his anxiety.

The moment came rather sooner than later.

Satoru stood pacing outside the door, even being confined in a room down the hall, against his will. He argued that he would not go into the room she was in and could wait outside the door but when he made two attempts to fling open the door, he was ushered to a further room. He could still hear Y/n’s painful whimpers and was ready to move heaven and hell around to be at Y/n’s side.

“You can’t even do anything for her,” his best friend Geto Suguru said, pushing his friend away from the door and further into the room. “Y/n is strong, your baby is strong too, they will be fine…”

Satoru continued to pace the room, his usually neatly combed hair now disheveled and his outfit in disarray.

Both men immediately turned their heads in the same direction when they heard the wail of an infant.

Before Suguru could blink, the door was already flung open forcefully making him flinch and he was alone.

.

“I had hopes he would take after Y/n but he’s a carbon copy of his dad. How unfortunate.” Suguru teasingly looked disappointed, looking down at the tiny baby in his arms. He was surprised that Satoru didn’t shoot him a glare, his friend’s eyes and attention were solely on his wife.

“He’s going to be handsome just like his father,” Y/n smiled tiredly. “My son needs a friend, you ought to have one of your own soon too, Suguru-san.”

Satoru snorted, “I agree with my wife, it is your turn now, Suguru-san.”

Suguru smirked, “just you both wait.”

. . .

E/n: One Lord completed... now stay tuned for the next one!

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy @gojoful @buttercupbitches

[delicatebarness]

winters widow | chapter ii

Summary: A small gesture of concern from Lord James suggests a possible change in the dynamic.

Warning: Arranged Marriage. Emotional Distress.

Word Count: 1390

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A/N: I was going to post this earlier but everyone asked for Cry Baby so you're getting both. - Please feel free to leave feedback or let me know where and how you want the story to continue, this is just as much yours as mine. - B

Winter’s Widow: @lanabuckybarnes | @sapphirebarnes | @sebastians-love

Everything: @hallecarey1 | @pattiemac1 | @uhmellamoanna | @scraftsku35 | @ozwriterchick

The following days were as cold and unforgiving as the walls of Winter’s Reach. Every morning, you’d wake early, hoping to catch a slight glimpse of Bucky and perhaps try to engage in conversation. He remained elusive, seen only from a distance. His stern demeanor and closed-off nature seemed impenetrable as he trained in the yard or discussed with his men. 

Soughting ways to familiarize yourself with your new home, you were determined not to be deterred. The Reach staff had initially been distant, yet they gradually warmed to your kind and gentle nature. Taking it upon yourself to learn the names of the servants, you wanted to understand the daily workings of the House. And, bring a touch of warmth to the cold stone. 

Wandering through the dimly lit corridors, one evening, you found yourself drawn to the library. Towering shelves filled with ancient tomes and scrolls in the vast room, a fire crackled in the hearth which cast warm glows over the worn furniture. You marveled at the wealth of knowledge contained within these walls as your fingers ran along the spines of the books.

Lost in thought, you didn’t hear the heavy door open behind you. It wasn’t until a shadow fell across the floor, startling you, that you turned. Bucky stood in the doorway, his expression was hard, annoyance etched in his features. 

“My Lord–” 

“What are you doing in here?” his sharp tone cut you off as he demanded.

You took a step back, his hostility wasn’t surprising. “I was admiring the collection. It’s a beautiful room.” 

His gaze trailed down to your hands as a particular old book lays in them. “This isn’t a tour you're on,” he snapped. “You don’t belong here, meddling with things you don’t understand.” 

“I’m sorry,” your voice was soft as you tried to keep it steady. “I didn’t mean to intrude. I thought–”

“You thought wrong,” he interrupted, stepping closer. “This place is filled with history you know nothing about. It is not your place.” 

You swallowed hard, trying not to look up at his looming figure. “I’m just trying to understand, connect with you in some way.” 

Bucky scoffed, tension evident in his posture. “This isn’t some fairy tale, Lady Romanoff. You’re here because of duty, nothing more, no happily ever after.” 

His words cut deep, a dagger twisting in the pit of your stomach. Yet, you refused to back down. “Fairy tales are all I know, Lord James. I know this isn’t one of them. Yet, we’re both here, and we have to make the best of it. I am willing to try, even if you are not.” 

For a moment, you could have sworn his expression softened as you finally met his gaze. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes. But his walls built back up just as quickly. “Do what you want,” he said curtly. “But don’t expect any warmth from me.”

The chill that settled in your bones as he turned and left, leaving you standing alone in the library, made the fire suddenly feel insufficient. Sighing, you gently placed the book back on the shelf. 

You resolved to continue your efforts to make Winter’s Reach feel like home. Focus on exploring the grounds once more, familiarizing yourself with lands that now surround you, covered in frost and snow. 

Walking through the courtyard, you saw Bucky training with his men. His movements, precise and powerful, halted you. They reflected his years of discipline and experience. You admired him, and his skill. 

Granting him space, you turned your attention to the stables, where your horse was being kept along with the Reach’s. 

The stable master greeted you warmly. “Lady Romanoff, it’s a pleasure to see you here,” he said with a genuine smile weathering his face. 

“Thank you,” you replied, returning his smile. “I thought I might get to see Honeybreeze, it could do her good to ride around the Reach.” 

The man nodded, gesturing toward your beautiful, chestnut mere. “Here she is, gentle and sure-footed, perfect for riding.” 

As you patted Honeybreeze’s neck, the sound of approaching footsteps caught your attention. Another unreadable expression greeted you as you turned, coming face to face with Bucky. He paused when he saw your smaller frame, irritation etched his face in an instant. 

“Taking up riding now, are we?” he asked, his tone clipped. 

You met his gaze, refusing to let his hostility deter you. “I’ve always rode, my lord. I thought it would be a good way for us both,” you gestured toward your horse, stroking your hand down her mane. “To familiarize ourselves with Winter’s Reach.” 

His eyes narrowed, however, they weren’t aimed at you. His gaze moved toward the stable master. “Make sure the lady is properly equipped for her ride,” he ordered the man before turning back to you. “The terrain can be treacherous, especially for outsiders. Be careful.” 

“I will,” you replied softly, you tried to keep your voice steady, not to show the pain his words caused. “Thank you for your concern.” 

“It’s not concern,” he scoffed, once more. The sound filled the air between you with bitterness. “Just practicality. We don’t need any unnecessary accidents.”

With that, he left you again. The stable master gave you a sympathetic look as he handed you the reins. “Forgive me, my lady,” he said quietly. “But, my lord wasn’t always like this. The war changed him.” 

You nodded, “I understand, thank you.” 

Mounting Honeybreeze, you guided her out of the stables, making your way toward the open fields surrounding Winter’s Reach. The air was crisp, and the expansive landscapes offered a sense of freedom. A brief moment of peace, away from the tension within Reach’s walls. 

Thoughts of your future husband returned to your mind as you rode. Despite his harsh exterior, you couldn’t help but wonder who the man was beneath the black and gold armor. 

Hours passed as you explored, and the cold air bit at your cheeks. Finally returning to the stables, dusk had almost settled over Winter’s Reach. Dismounting the horse, you handed her reins back to the waiting stable master. Thanking him, he nodded appreciatively and led your horse away, leaving you standing alone. 

Your mind reflected on the day's events as you made your way back toward the Reach. The hostility and bitterness from Bucky had been palpable, but you couldn’t help but feel sympathy for him. It was clear the way had left its mark on him, you wondered what had happened to transform him into the hardened man you were to marry. 

As you approached the entrance, you were surprised by Bucky standing there, waiting. His usual stern expression across his face. However, there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. 

“Did you enjoy your ride?” his voice gruff. 

You nodded, taken aback by his question. “I did, my lord. The land around your home is beautiful.” 

Looking away, his jaw tightened. “The Reach has its own kind of beauty,” he admitted.

“I would love to understand more of it,” you spoke softly. “And, to understand my future husband.” 

Bucky’s expression hardened again, his gaze meeting yours as a flicker of something else– perhaps vulnerability passed over his eyes. “There’s not much to understand. I’m a soldier, nothing more.” 

“I don’t believe that,” you replied gently, offering a small smile. “I think there’s more to you, more than you want to show.” 

For a second, he looked as though he might argue. Then, he sighed, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Maybe… if so, it’s buried deep.” 

You took a small step closer, daring to place your hand gently on his arm. “I’m willing to find it if you’ll let me.” 

He glanced down at your hand on his arm, another unreadable look passed through his eyes. Then, he stepped back, offering you a small nod. “Just… be careful,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. 

“I will, my lord,” you promised, watching him walk away. For the first time, you felt like you had hope as you saw a glimpse of the man beneath the armor. 

Taking a deep breath, you continued on your way through The Reach, feeling a renewed sense of determination. You silently vowed to break through his defenses and uncover a heart worth loving and understanding. 

---

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Vaggie: “Babe, you have an amazing brain, love everything going on in there-”

Charlie: “Thank you!”

Vaggie: “-but we need a LITTLE bit of organization or we’re NEVER gonna remember what great ideas you had five minutes ago.”

Charlie: “Wait, what great idea did I have five minutes ago???”

Vaggie: “I don’t know. You scribbled it on a napkin and there’s like, five hundred of those scattered around our room.”

Charlie: “Aw shoot.”

Vaggie: “Some of them are folded in the shape of swans?"

Charlie: "Nnnoooo I've been trying so hard not to DO that so much!!!"

Vaggie: "It’s, pretty impressive honestly.”

Charlie: (huffs) “Okay. Fine. Maaaybe you’re right. Maybe I might have a slight, uh, organizing thoughts problem.”

Vaggie: “No worries sweetie, I have a solution.”

Vaggie: (dramatically steps aside) “BAM!”

Charlie: “OH OH VAGGIE! YOU GOT ME METAL BOXES~!”

Vaggie: “They’re filing cabinets.”

Charlie: “OHHHHH!!!”

Charlie: “…..”

Charlie: “How… how do we activate the filing cabinets?”

Vaggie: “You put your ideas in folders, label the tabs on the folders, put them in a drawer, and label each drawer. Then when you’re looking for something you just open the drawer and-”

Charlie: “Bam?”

Vaggie: “Bam. There it is. The brilliant ideas of Charlie Morningstar.”

Charlie: “As organized by Vaggie, her amazing wonderful super smart and beautiful girlfriend!!!!!”

Vaggie: (chuckling) “I don’t think looking good has anything to do with organizing…”

Charlie: “Hmm, you still are though, miss good looking. Annnnnd it DOES have a lot to do with what I’m thinking about right now.”

Vaggie: “What’re you thinking, Charlie?”

Charlie: (grins)

Vaggie: “…really? Right here, in front of our new cabinets?”

Charlie: “Heheh. I like it when stuff is ‘ours’~”

Vaggie: “Why do I get the feeling the first recorded thoughts of Charlie Morningstar are gonna have to be filed under ‘for our eyes only’.”

Charlie: “Your smirk would have to go there too then. But does this mean it’s a good idea!?”

Vaggie: “Definitely.”

Charlie: “WOO! Kisses kisses kisses-”

Vaggie: “AFTER we’ve cleaned up all these napkins. AND have neatly folded the ones that aren’t already swans.”

Charlie: “Wh- but- but there’s almost five hundred of them!! The kisses-?”

Vaggie: “One kiss per every fifty napkins, how’s that sound?

Charlie: (pouting) “Insufficient kiss ratio.”

Vaggie: “Sorry, but as much as organizing your brain turns me on, the storm of paper in here is kinda a total mood killer. No way I can focus on anything with this mess everywhere. So. Start cleaning.”

Charlie: “I’m starting to think writing on napkins was my worst idea yet…”

Vaggie: “Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been paper airplanes again.”

Charlie: “THEN I could’ve just thrown them all out the window! Be free! Fly!!! Shoo! Let me make out with my girlfriend in peace!”

Vaggie: “Ha!”

Charlie: “…. Vaggie. What if we-”

Vaggie: “Charlie no.”

Charlie: “Oh come on! Swans can fly!”

Vaggie: “Not when they’re fancy origami ones that we’ll just have to clean up later anyway.”

Charlie: “Feh. Stupid ideas on stupid napkins.”

Vaggie: “Would one kiss per every two dozen napkins make you feel better?’

Charlie: “Yes.” (deep sigh) “But I’ve only folded ten.”

Vaggie: “Perfect, I’ve done fourteen, so that makes two dozen.”

Charlie: “Wh-”

Vaggie: “Kiss ratio completed.”

Charlie: “It’s based on our combined number???”

Vaggie: “Why not. You like it when stuff is ‘ours’, don’t you.”

Charlie: “….yesthankyouiloveyouonekissplease.”

- a few several many moments later –

Charlie: “….”

Charlie: “I’m suddenly getting the idea that… those were way more than one kiss.”

Vaggie: “I don’t care and wasn’t keeping count. File it under ‘Vaggie can’t multitask for shit’.”  

Charlie: “Mmm, ehhh. I think we just need a ‘Vaggie has AMAZING focus while kissing, but specifically only on the actual kissing’ folder instead.”

Vaggie: “Are you trying to get me to kiss you again.”

Charlie: “Is it working?”

Vaggie: (shoving napkins in her hands) “Here. Fold.”

Charlie: “I’m filing that under a yes~”

Vaggie: “Charlie. Fold. NOW.”

Charlie: “Hm-hmm-hm-hmmm~” (folding at lightspeed) “My newest great idea is that we should get even MORE filing cabinets.”

Vaggie: “Oh for-”(throws aside napkins) “-fuck’s sake-” (gives up and kisses her again)

[featherandferns]

daylight - six

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 6 of the daylight series | read part 5 here

content warnings: sexual content (m receiving)

word count: 2.8k.

blurb: seemingly not put-off from your last encounter, JJ comes by your house and studies your photographs. There's one within the mix that makes something click in JJ's head.

“Mimsy, it was humiliating,” you groan through the camera. 

She cringes. “I mean…yeah, that is pretty rough.”

“Ah!” you cry, tossing your head into your hands. 

“What was up? Were you not turned on?”

“Of course I was!” you argue, offended at the insulation that JJ wasn’t sex walking. “I just got all in my head, and the dark and Tyler and–”

“Woah, woah, woah,” Mimsy interrupts. You brave a glance at her on the facetime call. “You were thinking of Tyler whilst hot-mechanic-man was going down on you?”

“Well, we never got that far,” you mumble. 

Mimsy silences you with a look. “Why were you thinking of Tyler?”

You sigh and shake your head. Once more, your eyes dart down to the shoebox. “I don’t know,” you admit. “I just felt like I was back in that room with him all over again in December. The confusion and the–”

“Are you sure Tyler never assaulted you?” Mimsy checks. Despite her careless questioning, you know it comes from a place of concern. 

“Yes, I’m sure,” you say. “I mean, his emphasis on consent was honestly one of his finer features. One time I nodded and he went ‘no, no, you gotta use your words’.”

“Condescending prickhole,” Mimsy mutters bitterly. 

Eyebrows raised, mildly alarmed, you say, “well, yes, he was, but he was an consent advocate.”

“Gee, someone give him a gold medal. The bar really is on the fucking floor.”

You click your fingers. Mimsy could get lost in her anti-Tyler spiel easily. “Can we stay on task, please? What the hell is wrong with my body!?”

“Alright, one sec,” Mimsy says. You watch as she types away on her laptop, halfway in shot. “Okay, Google, what have you got?”

Waiting anxiously as Mimsy puruses the web, she makes a ‘eureka’ type sound. 

“Well if it makes you feel any better, apparently around seventeen percent of women aged eighteen to fifty experience vaginal dryness problems during sex. So you’re not a freak - yay!”

“Thank you for that,” you grumble. “What else does it say? Does it say why it happens?”

“Not being turned on enough is the leading cause. Insufficient foreplay type things,” Mimsy reads. 

You shake your head, fingers pressed to your lips in thought. “No, I was definitely turned it on. It was only when he was no longer kissing me and stuff…”

“Is that when the Tyler thoughts started?” Mimsy wonders. 

You nod. 

“Alright, well, other reasons are psychological. Stress, anxiety, that kind of thing. You think that might be it?”

“Maybe,” you muse. Before you can try to expand your thoughts, Mimsy’s phone chimes. She momentarily disappears as she reads the text, and you watch as she gets up in a rush. “You good?”

“Darren hit me up. He said he’ll be here in five.”

“Wait, Darren?” you gape. “Since when were you hooking up with Darren?”

“Like a week ago, at this beach get-together. He’s gotten cuter, y’know? Works out and stuff now,” she grins cheeky at the camera, licking her teeth.

It's times like these that you realise how much your lives are already changing without the other knowing. Most of the time it's easy to ignore, but every now and then the FOMO is relentless and jealousy tries to rear its ugly head. 

“Right, I gotta dash. I need to check I’m nice and clean shaven.”

“T.M.I. Mimsy. We need some boundaries."

“Yeah, you’re right,” Mimsy says before deadpanning: “have fun navigating your dry vagina.”

“Fair point,” you mumble. With that, Mimsy disappears from your screen.

You mindlessly meddle on Instagram, editing your latest post - a picture of the Pogues you took a few weeks ago - and scrolling through the feed. A text notification appears. It’s JJ.

Let me in. 

Frowning, you reply. 

Hello?? 

I’m outside lol. Let me in. 

Frown deepening, you ditch your phone and rush down the stairs. Sure enough, when you open the door, JJ’s there. He’s wearing a t-shirt and shorts, and those same damned combat boots. No cap, messy tendrils of hair sticking out any which way. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I was bored.”

“Oh,” you reply. JJ had never come into your house before. Always picked you up or dropped you off outside. “Well, come in, I guess.”

JJ gladly does so. Wanders through the doorway, hands in his pockets. 

“What you been up to today?” you wonder. 

“Went to Heyward’s with Pope to earn a couple bucks,” JJ says as he eyes up the decor. Most things are unpacked now, having been in Kildare for almost two months. Faux family photos line the mantle of the fire which doesn’t work. JJ peruses them. “You were a cute kid.”

“Thanks,” you say. “You want a drink or something?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he says, pulling out his flask. You roll your eyes as he takes a swig of what you assume is whiskey. “Where your parents at?”

“Trying to rekindle their romance on a weekend trip to my uncle’s place,” you say. “I was just gonna edit the last lot of photos I took at Kook Club.”

“They any good?” he asks. 

The two of you had worked the latest Gala dinner. It had been to “raise money” for the already pristine, state-of-the-art tennis courts. Whilst they were charging guests a thousand dollars per ticket, you and JJ left with less than a hundred bucks for ten hours worth of work. 

“They’re alright. Rafe and his posse are in the back of a bunch, sneaking drinks, so I need to edit that crap out,” you huff. You start up the stairs and JJ follows. Opening the door, you guide JJ into your bedroom. 

“Ta da,” you say. “My humble abode.”

“Cute bear,” JJ teases, pointedly looking at your well-cuddled stuffie.

You rush to grab him, hiding him under the pillow and nervously laughing when you turn back to him. 

His eyes gravitate to your pinboard of pictures. A collection of your favourites. Friends mostly, with about two of your parents. Lots of Vancouver. The Pogues. JJ. Things you took whilst people-watching. Most of the photos are pictures of the neighbourhood and town. Beaches and trees and people going about their days. Boats bobbing on water and fisherman dragging up crab-cages. Children biking down the street and old couples sat on their porches like something from a Suburbia advert in the fifties. There’s an intrigued slant to his brow as he takes in the world you see. 

Then, JJ plucks one from the masses and holds it with care, something seemingly unnatural for someone so energetic. You can’t help but study him as he studies your picture. It’s one you took almost two weeks ago, of a man that you saw smoking a cigarette outside of a dive bar. There was something about him that seemed so tired and worn, like he’d wasted his happiness on something unforgiving. JJ’s smile fades. There’s an urge to ask him if he's okay, though you’re not sure why. 

He returns it to the board and deliberates over some more. You try and think of something to say but come up with nothing. 

“These are really good,” JJ absent-mindedly tells you, eyes trained on the pictures. 

“Thanks.”

JJ smiles at the one you took of him. It’s a strange smile: like he’s surprised by his own candidness. Then he physically freezes. You follow his trained vision to a picture hidden under layers. Oh no. 

“Is that…”

JJ takes it from the board, careful not to disturb the others, and stares at it for a painful length of time. All you can do is fidget nervously, eyes wide, and watch him piece together the picture. Frowning, he holds it up to you as he turns. 

“When did you take this?”

“Um…”

It’s of him, laughing from afar, standing before a sunsetting sky, the sea in the distance. You try to grab it off him but his reflexes are too fast. JJ holds it above his head, out of your reach. 

“Just one time at the beach.”

“Nuh-uh,” JJ says, a grin starting to unfurl. “You’re lying. When’d you take this? I don’t remember you taking this.”

“Just a dumb candid I got at this kegger one time. It was ages ago,” you hurriedly say. 

And all the puzzle pieces click in JJ’s mind. The grin comes through in full effect and he points a finger in your face. Your stomach sinks through the floor. 

“It was you!”

“W-what?” you stammer.

“You were the peeping Tom at Chloe’s kegger! I knew I didn’t fucking imagine it!” JJ announces. 

No, no, bad, bad, bad. 

“Holy shit! I’ve been trying to figure out who it was and it was you the whole time!”

“Don’t be a dick, okay? I just like people-watching. Clearly!” you defend, gesturing to the pictures. 

“I’m not being a dick,” JJ says, enthusiasm dwindling. He lowers the photo and looks at it again. A smile returns, sweeter this time. “It’s a really good photo.”

“Course you’d say that,” you snort, taking it back. “You’re in love with yourself.”

“Damn straight,” he gloats. He watches you place the photo in your bedside drawer. “Putting that in your wank bank for later, then?”

“Careful,” you snarl, shooting him a glare. He cackles.

ADHD brain in full swing, JJ takes to investigating your cameras. “You ever take photos of yourself?”

“No.”

“Ever had people take them for you?”

“Look, some people photograph well,” you say, gesturing to JJ, “and some people don’t.”

JJ quirks a brow. “Are you saying you’re not photogenic?”

You make a face of ‘well, duh’ and JJ laughs incredulously.

“Oh, bullshit. You’re smoking! You’d take a great picture.”

“Well, history proves otherwise,” you laugh, flopping onto your bed. 

JJ looks back to the cameras. At his extended quiet, you gain the sense that he’s plotting something. Concocting. “What?”

“Just thinkin’,” he hums. He grabs your Polaroid camera, turning to you. “This charged?”

“It’s battery powered, JJ,” you say. “So, yes.”

“Got paper in it?”

“That little dial on the right will say.”

JJ checks and a grin reappears. “Lie down.”

“Excuse me?”

“Humour me,” JJ says, “lie down.”

Rolling your eyes, you comply, lying down like a corpse. “Happy?”

“No, fucking…” JJ poorly  imitates a sensual pose. You giggle. “Give it some effort.”

Sighing, as if it’s some great effort, you do as he asks. JJ grins and lifts the camera. With that, you crack up and raise a hand, trying to push the lens away. He snaps a photo before you can. 

“JJ!”

“Come on, come on! Pose it up, girl,” he urges. 

Aware that he won’t quit, you sit up and smile reluctantly with a lopsided head tilt. JJ takes another photo. 

“Okay, gimme something sexy.”

“Sexy?” you guffaw. 

“Yeah! Something for my wank bank.”

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter. You tug your shirt off before you can overthink it and lean back on your arms, dressed in pyjama shorts and bralette. JJ’s grin takes up half his face. “Happy?”

“That’s it baby, work it…”

At his compliments and praises, you entertain him further. Your confidence blossoms under the lens and you start to understand why people like being photographed. It makes you feel important. Beautiful, like you’re something worthy to be captured. You find yourself grabbing at your tit with one hand, staring doe-eyed into the lens. Another photo has you teasing at showing your nipple, pulling down the lip of your bra.

As JJ continues to snap away, you see his dick getting harder and harder under his shorts. When the camera runs out of film, JJ dumps it on your desk and he practically pounces on you. Consumes you with a heady kiss, a hand reaching up to your jaw, tilting your head to deepen it. You’re obsessed with the way JJ kisses. It’s so forward, unapologetic and proud. Tender and telling, dominating and delicate.

When his hands palm at your crotch over your clothes, your heart sinks. Using all the strength you have, you grab his shoulders and force him down onto his back, on your bed. An impressed, bewildered smile lights up his face. It’s quickly overshadowed with lust.

Now straddling his chest, JJ pulls you back down with both hands, bringing your lips to his. You both grin into the messy kiss. 

“Don’t think I forgot what you said during hot seat,” JJ mumbles out through the kiss. You don’t bother to answer. Start making work of his throat, empowered by the new position. “About your favourite position.”

Your only response is to rut back against his hard-on. JJ stammers out a groan which seems to quiet him. You push his shirt up just as he did yours the other night, and take to praising his toned chest. Lightly trace your tongue over his nipples. Who would have thought JJ was a switch? Not you. 

“Please, baby, fuck,” JJ stammers. 

“You want my mouth?” you tease, rubbing him through his shorts. 

“God, yes, yes,” he begs, eyes closed tight with pleasure. 

You drag it out. Leisurely free him from his shorts and boxers. Take long, slow kisses right up from his calves, guiding your trial with your nails. When you finally take his leaking tip in your mouth, JJ grabs at the sheets with a moan. You go down on him, varying between fast and slow, deep and shallow. Suckle at the tip just to hear the sounds he makes, sat up on his forearms to watch. 

“Takin’ me so well,” JJ groans. One of his hands fists into your hair. “Fuck…That’s it.”

You hum around his dick, grabbing at the flesh of his thigh for purchase as you work him closer and closer to the edge. He pulls you off him before he comes, spilling onto his chest with a shuddering groan. You sit back on your haunches, wiping at your mouth, as JJ sits up. You grab the box of tissues from beside your bed and offer them to him. He’s almost blushing as he takes them, cleaning himself up. 

“Christ, you Vancouver girls are built different, huh?” he says. 

You laugh, flustered. “Well, I can’t speak for all of us.”

“Don’t need you to,” JJ smirks, reaching out for you by your hip bone. “I got the perfect one right here.”

He easily pulls you into his lap with one arm. Dumbs your thoughts with a kiss, tongue swirling deliciously in your mouth. But when one of his hands ventures lower, you pull away with a small smile. He tries to chase your mouth with his but you place a hand to the apex of his neck, keeping him at bay. He frowns.

Tracing the pad of your thumb under one of his eyes, you quietly say, “maybe another night.”

JJ’s reaction mirrors that of a child being told they can’t have a candy bar. “Wait, seriously?”

“I’m tired,” you lie with a laugh. Pecking his lips, you smile. “Worn me out.”

“Barely fucking touched you,” JJ grumbles, disgruntled. You move off him and grab the mess of tissues, filtering them into your bedroom bin. You can feel JJ watching you as you gather the polaroid photos from the floor. “Is this about the other night?”

Your lack of reply is reply enough. 

“That was probably a fluke! I read somewhere that dehydration can cause it,” JJ tells you. You make your way back over with a small smile. JJ reaches out a hand and grabs you by your hip. He leans forward and places a kiss to your stomach through your t-shirt. Looks up at you, innocent through his lashes. “Just let me at you and I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“As romantic as that is,” you sardonically say, looping your fingers through his hair and gently easing him away, “I just wanna go to sleep. You staying over?”

“Is that cool with you?” JJ checks. 

“Mhm,” you say. “I’m gonna go wash up, yeah?”

“Alright,” JJ replies, already tugging off his shirt. 

When you’re finished in the bathroom you find JJ under your sheets, scrolling on his phone. You settle in beside him. Your bed is just slightly bigger than a twin. It gives you a good excuse to cuddle up against him. Sighing, JJ clicks off his phone and lays back. 

“You wanna get the light?” he wonders, absentmindedly stroking your shoulder.

“No,” you mumble against his sturdy frame. “I sleep with it on.”

“Oh. Alright.”

JJ coils an arm around your midsection, bending to your form like ivy wills to a building. And how strange is it to think, that as you and JJ fall asleep tangled up with each other, that a box of your ex-boyfriend's things lies under the bed.

read part seven here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200

[jamespotterismydaddy]

A Simple Favour

alicent x assassin!reader smut

A/N: this was a request here so I hope you enjoy!!

TW: smut!!, dacryphilia, nipple play, thigh riding, slight dubcon because alicent pays reader with sex

wordcount: 989 words

“My Queen.” You say smoothly as you enter her chambers. The hour is much later than what would be considered respectable. “Your request has been fulfilled.”

“Good.” Alicent responds as she rises from where she was sitting. She reaches over to grab a hefty bag of gold dragons. She brings it over to you and holds it out with one hand. You eye the bag but don’t grab it.

“I’m afraid that will be insufficient… Your Grace.” You speak and turn away from where she stands.

“Insufficient? This is the price we agreed on.” She looks astonished and her anger begins to grow.

“I have decided that I would prefer a different method of payment.” You say as you begin to pace around her bedchamber.

“Who could prefer a different method to gold?” She asks incredulously. 

“I think that we would both quite enjoy this method. The clattering of coins only lasts so long.” You face her again, a certain look in your eyes. It doesn’t take her long to realize what you mean.

“You dare to proposition your queen?” You know it is a dangerous thing to do but you’ve already decided that the reward outweighs the risk.

“All debts must be paid, Your Grace.” You say simply. You aren’t stupid, no, you only ask because you are almost entirely sure of what her answer will be. Almost. You wait in anticipation for her response.

“I shall see under your robes and will decide if you are worth such a price.” You try not to visibly smile at her answer as you drop your cloak and begin shedding everything under it. You can see her watching carefully once you are left in only your corset and slip.

“Might you help me with the laces, my Queen?” You ask her with a mischievous tone. She decides to humour you and begins to untie your corset. Her touch is feather-soft as you feel her hands ghost over your skin. She steps in front of you once again so she can observe you as your smallclothes follow your slip which follows your corset to the floor. You are naked for her. Her eyes rake over you in a seductive way; a way that makes you feel desired.

“I am at your mercy, assassin.” You smirk wolfishly at her words, striding over quickly so that your lips can meet hers. You may be younger than her but you are also much more educated in sexual desires so dominance reigns true to you. 

“Let's take off these clothes.” You aid her with her own cloak and then her very expensive looking nightgown so that she is left in her smallclothes. You then lay yourself on her bed and spread your legs.

“I think you know enough to understand what to do.” You say smugly but she makes her way over anyways and kneels between your thighs. She starts by pressing light kisses all over your breasts and then begins to kiss down your body until she has reached her destination. She sucks at your pearl and just does what she assumes you would like best. Her fingers come up to slip between your folds before entering inside of you. “Yes, like that.” You groan. Alicent feels any initial hesitancy slip away. She knows that what she is doing is a sin but your whimpers are much more heavily than the songs that any angel could sing. She decides it is worth any punishment the gods could give her. Your hand falls down to grip her hair, pulling it roughly as you feel your peak approaching. She sucks more on your pearl now, edging you closer and closer before, “Oh fuck…” You moan as you cum, tightening around her fingers.

“Have I pleased you, little assassin?” She asks, her tone surprisingly playful for her usual persona.

“You have. I believe it is your turn now, my Queen.” She loves the way the title falls off your lips. “You won’t be needing these.” You say as you begin to tug at her smallclothes before bringing her in for another heated kiss. 

When she is fully naked, your pupils blow out wide at the sight of her breasts, so full and perky. You lean your head down to kiss one, tounging at her nipple as you bring your hand up to pinch and tease the other one. She lets out many little whimpers but your favourite is the sound she makes when you bite down slightly.

“Ride my thigh.” You command her and lay back so you can get the full view. She quickly obeys you and you put your hands behind your head in a relaxed position as she puts in all the effort. She grinds herself against you as you watch with a lazy smirk on your face. “Play with your tits.” You command again and she begins to tease her own nipples now. She begins to grind against you faster and you notice as she begins to get tired.

“I-I can’t.” She whines as she desperately tries to reach a peak that won’t come. You roll your eyes and place your hands on her hips to guide her.

“Whiny little baby.” You tease cruelly and to your delight, the beginning of tears spring to her eyes.

“Please please… help more.” She begs. Even with you guiding her, she is still exhausted. 

“Fine. Turn around then.” You help her to turn around on your lap and lie back with you a bit. Your hand snakes around to rub tight circles on her pearl.

“Oh…” She whimpers and with your help, is cumming in only a few short moments.

You both breathe heavily. She then shifts to lay next to you so you can cuddle.

“If it pleases, my Queen. I think I shall take all my future payments in this manner.” You say as you play with her curls.

“It would please me greatly.”

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Hail storms

Requested: No

Warnings: Spicy 🌶, Religious themes (Kyle’s), Oral Sex (Kyle’s) Toxic relationships (Simon’s), Angry Sex (Simon’s), Bondage (Alejandro’s), Spit Kink (Alejandro’s)

Characters: Kyle “Gaz” Garrick, Simon “Ghost” Riley, Alejandro Vargas

Word Count: 1,448

A/N: New layout, woooooo!!!

Gaz - I’m Not An Angel

I wasn't always this way

I used to be the one with the halo

The weight of the gold cross on his clavicle burned as he watched you from across the pub, the sound of Soap’s laughter, of Price’s scolding words, of Ghost’s heavy breathing, it all faded into the background. Like the static of an old radio that you could never tune quite right. But you, you were clarity. The perfect pitch of some singer rising above the other soft noises.

He’d never had a one night stand before. Thought about it, prayed about it, but he could never bring himself to do it. Could never bring himself to let himself taste the sweet fruit of sin that he so often craved. The same one his pastor warned him of when he was but a boy, years before the man that sat in his place now. But he finds himself crossing that threshold now, the devil tugging him closer, a marionette on cursed strings.

“Hi.” He says, as he sits beside you, fingers trembling as he holds onto his mug of cheap beer. “I’m Kyle.”

But that disappeared when I had my first taste

And fell from grace

The taste of you in his mouth was sweeter than anything he had ever had, more than the grapes his mother used to pack in his lunch tin when he was younger, but yet you were also more bitter than the wine that followed communion bread. Innocence turned to pain and fear and blood. But none of it could ever be more holy than. No holy relic would ever be able to bring him to his knees the way flesh between your thighs did.

And when you ran your nails through the stubble of his hair, your eyes piercing and heavy as you stared down at him, he knew the cross he wore meant nothing anymore. A false idol, trying to take your rightful place in his heart. He squirmed impossible closer, tongue out as he panted for air, so desperate to keep tasting you that he was barely a centimeter away.

The chain of his cross broke easy under the grip of his fist, and he heard the soft ting of it hitting the floor, before it was lost to him.

It left me in this place

I'm starting to think, maybe you like it

Kyle woke last the next day, an unusual occurrence considering his line of work. The smell of freshly brewed earl grey curling pleasantly in his nostrils, rousing him from the pleasant warmth of your bed, flaccid cock hanging at his thigh when he slips out from beneath the sheets.

“Love?” He mumbles, feet dragging on the ground, feeling all too much like a newborn lamb, limping after its shepherd after just being born. Like the world was made anew, with you as his guiding light.

And that light led him to the kitchen, where you leaned against the counter, dangling his cross between your pretty fingers.

Meeting his eyes as you let it slip into the trash.

Ghost - I Miss The Misery

When you tell me you'll make it worse

(I'd rather fight all night than watch the TV)

The front door slammed open, your shoulder blades digging painfully into the hardwood as Simon rammed you into it, his hands ripping away at your clothes (clothes he bought you, clothes he loved on you, clothes he always loved to take off), your own tearing away at his skin, nails shredding away at skin like cheap paper, leaving raw bloody lines on his back that were sure to sting .

Some bitter and angry part of you hopes that the next time he tries to have a sleazy fuck with someone else, that they’ll see this. See what you do to him. And know that they’ll always be insufficient by comparison.

Cause no matter how hard you fought, no matter how loud you got. There was a simple truth you needed everyone to know about him.

He was yours. Now. Always. Forever.

I hate that feeling inside

You tell me how hard you'll try

“Promise I’ll get better.” He’s whispered in your ear countless times, curled around you after the latest round of angry sex, clinging to you like a lifeline, like he hadn’t had his hands curled around your throat not even half an hour ago as he told he how much you pissed him off, how much he hated you. “Never do it again. Promise, Love.”

And it was always a lie.

But he promised everytime, even knowing it was futile, fragile, already broken. Floating in the air like the moans you let out in the bedroom, under him with his teeth buried in your shoulder. Fucking you like he wanted to kill you with his dick. Headboard slamming into the wall so hard it cracked, brittle paint chips falling to the floor. And you couldn’t deny how god damn good it felt, everytime you fought your way back towards each other. Like opposing magnets, like heaven and hell.

But when we're at our worst

I miss the misery

The morning after, he was in the front room of the house, grouching and grumbling loudly about how he had to fix the hole the doorknob made again. His side of the bed was still warm from his gargantuan body, making you curl into it, seeking him and his heat out without specifically calling for him, though you knew he would come running with only a word from your sore lips. Eager to flee back to your side and crawl above you once more.

You smiled into the pillows, one full of teeth and mischief.

You couldn’t wait to do it all over again.

Alejandro - Do Not Disturb

Let's take our clothes off

I wanna show you my hidden tattoo

“This is cute.” You chuckled against his lips, back pressed firmly against the cool wall of his apartment, running your fingers over the crow tattoo that arched over his broad hip. The beady eye of the mischievous avian staring right back at you.

“Yes, what every man wants to hear during sex. Cute.” Alejandro laughed in return, darkened hazelnut eyes gaining a hint of amusement as he took your hand and placed it right on the patch of black ink. “Go ahead, touch it. You’re the only one that’ll ever get to see it.”

“Only me, huh?” You cooed in an almost mocking tone of voice, raking your nails along the razor sharp feathers of the ink bird. His skin jiggling pleasantly for you when you reared your hand back to give his ass a playful little slap, the sound of it reverberating in the room along with his grunt. “Well, aren’t I just honored?”

That nobody ever gets to see but you do

Oh baby let me taste ya, shake ya, tie you up and break ya

Hands tied above your head with a silk tie, his silk tie. A brilliant deep blue that stood out against the barebones gray sheets and pillowcases. Blue digging into your wrists in a delicious combination of pain mingling with pleasure. The same as his hips slapping against you with every inward thrust.

“Such a good pretty thing you are.” He huffs, leaning forward and pressing your knees to your chest, constricting your airflow just the smallest bit, white starbursts flashing behind your eyelids. “Letting me tie you up and have my way like this. Gonna let me spit in your mouth next?”

In response, you simply opened your mouth and let your tongue roll out.

'Cause I've been alone, left on my own for too long

Oh damn, too long, too long, too long, I say come on

“Come on.” He huffed, tweaking your nipple, grazing his teeth over the thin skin that stretched over your collarbone, a bruise or two sure to form with how rough he was being. “Come on, come on, come on.”

And come you did, with seizing muscles and flailing legs, a high pitched cry crawling out from your lungs and bursting out your swollen mouth, tears streaming down your cheeks in rivers as you throw your head back in ecstasy. Barely even noticing the way his hips started to stutter before he spilled inside of you, thick white seed covering your insides. Rolling his hips a few more times to really push it all in before he pulls out and collapses beside you, narrowly missing crashing on top of you.

“So….” You start after a few minutes of you both catching a breath, turning to him with sparkling eyes and a mischievous grin. “Round two?”

[mingtinysworld]

Just one more

Pairing: choi jongho x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2.4k

Summary: Jongho doesn’t like it when you don’t listen to him. What he doesn’t like even more is when you play with yourself while he’s not there to enjoy it.

Warnings: MDNI, dom Jongho, sub reader, masturbation (f/m), reader watches porn, belt used as handcuffs, use of ‘slut’, pet names (princess, darling, baby), oral (f receiving), fingering, orgasm denial

A/n: I hope you liked this! Lowkey, the Jongho brainrot has been going crazy lately. Constantly thinking about him. Anyways. If you enjoyed please like, comment or reblog. ily - jules

You’ve been feeling restless all day. Jongho had promised to come home early so you could spend some time together. Lately, he’s been so busy that he’s constantly at the office, only coming home to sleep for a few hours.

You try your best to be understanding, knowing how uptight and rigid his boss can be. You also can’t help but feel a little sad, perhaps a bit neglected. You know Jongho loves you, but you want the attention you so greatly long for.

You take another look at the clock and see that it’s almost midnight. You sigh and throw yourself backwards on the bed, stretching in a starfish pose. The longer you stare at the ceiling, the more worked up you become. Sleep completely escapes you and all you can think about is Jongho.

Jongho and his massive cock.

How it stretches you. It always feels as if he’s going to split you in half and you can’t even complain. You love it and you know you wouldn’t have it any other way. The thoughts of Jongho floating in your mind make your body prickle with heat. Your hand trails down to your tiny sleep shorts unconsciously, bunching the fabric in a way that drags against your clit. You let out a feeble cry, reveling in the long awaited touch.

You let out a soft curse as a single finger enters you. Your hips lift up to meet the stimulation and you try to chase your high. After a few moments of scissoring yourself open you add a second finger, groaning at the insufficient stretch. You need more. You need Jongho. You won’t get him for a while though so you settle on the next best thing.

You grab your phone off the nightstand and scroll through to a page that feels illegal. You know you shouldn’t, you should wait for Jongho to get home. But you’re so desperate, so eager for something extra to get you off. You file the guilt away and get comfortable once more.

You focus on the figures moving on your screen, trying your best to imagine it’s Jongho and you. Your breathing gets heavier by the minute and you feel like you’re about to explode. You move your fingers at a rapid pace and you feel so desperate to come that you can’t even think of anything else.

You can’t help but let out strained whines as you buck your hips. You feel a knot forming in your stomach and you’re eager to let go. You choke out a moan and come with a force so strong that it makes your vision blurry. You drop your phone on your stomach, the dirty video still playing. You throw your head back and exhale at the overwhelming yet euphoric feeling.

As you’re coming down from your high, you don’t notice Jongho slinking in through the door. He walks with quiet steps, observing your naked form. He watches your heaving chest and he can immediately feel the tightening of his pants. However, as ravishing as you look, he can’t have you acting out like this.

He takes note of the video on your phone, and clicks his tongue in disapproval. At the noise, your eyes fly open. You panic at the presence of Jongho and scramble to turn your phone off and to cover yourself as best you can.

“You really couldn’t wait for me princess? Just had to watch strangers fuck to feel something?” His face doesn’t betray his feelings. He stares at you with an intensity that makes you freeze. “Answer me.”

“I-I no, no Jongho, I just ha-had to…I’m sorry.” You avert your gaze and stare at the edge of the bed. “I know I should’ve waited for you.”

He grunts at that. “Damn right you should’ve.” He turns to the closet, losing his shirt as he goes. You follow his movements with a wide stare, not sure what to anticipate. He neatly hangs his crisp polo shirt, ensuring no wrinkles will appear. Your breath hitches once he turns around.

You gape at his well built chest. You see it every day, but it still takes you by surprise every time. You so badly want to run your hands across his torso, but choose to stay still.

“On the floor princess.” He patiently stands there as you scramble off the bed, obeying him straight away. You tuck your knees under you and lean against the side of the bed. You gulp dramatically as you look up at Jongho towering over you. He looks down at you as if you’re a mere speck of dust, so tiny and insignificant.

After one approving nod at you, he undoes his belt. The clanking of the metal sends a jolt through you, making your heart beat rapidly. He takes his time, maintaining the concentrated eye contact. You feel your mouth go dry, and you excite yourself at the idea of him finally in your mouth.

Once his belt is off he crouches down to be on your level. “Now princess, I’m gonna have to be a little mean.” He doesn’t look at you as he wraps the leather around your wrists. “I didn’t want to be mean, but you’re not leaving me with many options.”

He tugs at the makeshift cuffs, ensuring that it’s not too tight. “I need you to be good for me alright?”

You give a simple nod which seems to please him. After checking the tightness of your restraint, he stands up with a grunt. He’s wearing a passive expression, as if he’s unaffected by everything that’s happening. And maybe he is. You never quite know what to expect from Jongho.

He reaches into his trousers, pulling out his aching hard cock. You can already feel your mouth watering at the sight. Staring at the engorged tip, you’re overcome with the desire to take him into your mouth right away. However, you resist, even though it feels like torture.

He doesn’t take off his bottoms, only sliding it down a few inches to give him enough space to move. You can’t help but feel immensely aroused by the scene unfolding before you. Jongho, his chest exposed to the warm lighting. Jongho, with his beautiful and tempting cock right in your face.

“One rule baby, eyes on me only,” he says in a calm manner. “Don’t look away.”

You feel your throat constrict from your pulse speeding up, and all you can manage is a weak nod. He rolls his eyes at your lack of words.

“That’s fine, you don’t have to talk. One less slutty hole to take care of.”

Jongho slides a careful hand down his length, resulting in a light hiss from him. It seems as if he’s been worked up for a while, needing to take the edge off. You can sympathize with that, however your current position is allowing you no thoughts other than the creamy precum dripping off him.

You remember his words, and shift your eyes to meet his own. Jongho looks at you with a deep hunger, simmering within his belly. He bites his lip as he goes faster, his hand now making loud squelching noises as he gets closer to his release. You so badly want to look down, but his serious gaze makes you think twice.

“It’s hard to control yourself right?” He says breathlessly. “Well you’ll have to learn how to darling.”

In a moment of stupid bravery, you ask a question. “Can I please touch myself?”

He grabs ahold of your jaw with a tight grip, making your cheeks squish together in a way that he would find cute in any other scenario.

“Have you learned nothing?” He hisses out.

You should’ve known better.

You keep your silence and continue to hold the eye contact after your rejection. He pumps himself steadily, only letting out soft grunts for your ears to hear. Your head feels light, like you’re floating in the clouds. Your vision goes hazy the longer you take in what’s happening right before you.

“Please J-Jongho.” A timid voice escapes you.

“Please what princess? Do you think you deserve anything right now?” His strict tone makes you whimper, going deeper into that foggy state of mind.

After a couple more purposeful strokes Jongho comes undone. He paints your face with his release, spurts of white landing all over your cheeks. Some drop onto your lower lip and you’re eager to dart your tongue out to taste him. You feel filthy, and yet you still want more.

“Get up.” Jongho orders.

You scramble to get to your feet, aching for stimulation. You hope that Jongho will go easier on you now that he’s had a release, but you know that’s only wishful thinking. You settle against the headboard, hands still tied together in front of you. You’re itching to hold on to any part of Jongho, needing to feel his skin on yours.

“Spread your legs baby.” He instructs.

You spread your legs within a quick second which earns you an amused smirk from Jongho.

“How did I get so lucky with such a desperate slut?” He asks, however not expecting an answer.

As Jongho climbs on the bed, you can feel your heart racing. You try to control your breathing as if that will make any difference in hiding your want. The apparent wet mess that is your pussy is truly a sight to behold.

Jongho’s gaze is locked in. He stares at your center like he’s a predator, and you feel a shiver go through you. You can’t help but let out a slight whine.

“Shh baby, I’ll take care of you.” Jongho says sweetly, but you know better than to let yourself be fooled.

In a split second he’s on you. His face is buried in your cunt, making you yelp in surprise. His tongue darts out in swift movements, breaching your hole slightly.

The feel of his mouth on you makes you feel as if you’re floating. You can’t help but whimper, feeling overwhelmed in the best way possible.

“J-Jongho oh my god nngh please fuck.”

You just ramble without a single coherent thought in your brain. That’s what Jongho tends to do to you. He pushes you into that headspace where everything is fuzzy and pleasurable.

“Good girl, taking it so good.” His raspy voice vibrates against you and you mewl at that. He attaches his plump lips to your clit, sending shockwaves through you. You wish you could tangle your hand in his hair, holding him impossibly closer to you.

“Fuck Jongho! Baby I,” you can’t even finish a complete sentence. The only thing you can do is lay there and take it.

His tongue moves around in ways that shouldn’t be humanly possible, but then again, Jongho doesn’t even seem human sometimes. He hums in pleasure, lost in the feel of your plush pussy.

Your hips buck up against him, sending a clear message of needing more. He suckles on your sensitive bud with a renewed fervor, and even adds in a single finger to your hole. You moan unabashedly, not caring for much anymore.

“Almost t-there…” You let Jongho know.

As the bubble feels ready to burst, it goes away in a flash.

You let out a sob you weren’t aware of holding in. Jongho comes up for air with a look of smug satisfaction, staring you down with a challenge in his eyes.

“Sorry princess.” He says with zero remorse.

You open your mouth to say something bitchy but Jongho silences you immediately.

His mouth is back on you, this time with the addition of three fingers inside. His fingers feel so thick and perfect, filling you up snug. He works his tongue even faster, going in rapid and frequent circles. You’re sure the sheets are ruined by now, but you choose to ignore it.

“Taste so good princess, I might just pass out in your pussy.” His lewd words make your face heat up in embarrassment. You tilt your head up to the ceiling, blinking rapidly as if holding tears back.

Jongho slips his hand under your hips, moving you even closer to him. The movement causes you to gasp and uselessly flop your bound wrists around.

He speeds up his fingers, adding a squelching sound. All you can hear are the wet sounds of your sopping cunt and your loud panting.

As soon as your stomach tightens up once more, Jongho takes it all away. This time your tears actually fall. He takes a second to coo at your red, upset face. He cups your cheek tenderly, wiping away the hot tear streaking down.

“I know, I know. You’re doing so well baby, I’m so proud of you.” He takes another second to just look at you. “You can come this time.”

He goes down on you a third time, this time with an addition of a promise. You try to relax, knowing you’ll be able to come finally.

“God I love this pussy. All mine to take.” He all but growls, making you moan loudly.

“I love- to make you happy, just ah fuck just make me come please.” You squint your eyes shut, everything feeling so overstimulating.

You dig your nails into your palms, leaving red prints behind. Jongho is moving his whole wrist so quickly that it jostles you from your position. You feel your whole body moving along with his movements, creating a chorus of whines and whimpers.

You clench around him, making him groan in bliss. He uses his thumb to circle around your bud rapidly, making the coil tighten in your belly. Whenever you feel ready to explode, your release is granted.

You come with an almost scream, a feral sound you couldn’t describe even if you tried. As you come down from your high Jongho caresses your legs.

“Good job, there you go. Did so well for me.” His voice soothes you, sending a tingle down your spine.

As you open up your mouth to speak you wince slightly. Your lips are so chapped that it’s almost painful. You somehow croak out words.

“Lips. Dry.”

Jongho gives you a sympathetic pout and starts to move. You think he’s about to go get water but then you feel an intrusion into your very sensitive core. You tense up as he moves his fingers around. He makes a scooping motion and takes them out carefully.

Before you can resist he’s already put your own cum on your lips, smearing it around like lip balm.

“There, is that better?”

You stare at him incredulously, wondering which realm of hell he appeared from. You smack your lips together, tasting yourself.

Giving him a tired smile you speak. “Much better.”

[oftenwantedafton]

the new hire | steve raglan x female reader

rating | explicit

part 1/?

words | 2k

ao3 link

You know you’re in trouble the moment you see those eyes.

The smile Steve Raglan offers is rehearsed, false. It doesn’t quite reach the blue; doesn’t match that warm, coarse voice that beckons you further into the office. Later on, you’ll know all too well what makes the smile turn genuine; wolf teeth, sharp and pleased, sunk into prey. But for now there is just the chair that makes your tailbone sore already, that is so much lower than the desk the career counselor sits at, making you feel even smaller than you already do. You’re looking up at the older man, at the facial hair that is marbled steel and white, fuller around the mouth and patchier on both cheeks. It looks new, like something the man’s just trying out, like one of those comically false disguise hair pieces that a spy on an old television program might employ. As if to prove your point he reaches absently to scratch along the sparse growth lining his jaw, the fastened sleeve of his shirt straining just a little at the wrist, revealing some sort of pink scar, or perhaps you are wrong; he doesn’t let you catch more than a glimpse before the hand moves to lift the cover of a folder on his desk.

Those fingers turn over the pages—only three, your entire adult existence summed up on just those scant sheets of paper—and you’re struck by how long those digits are. Artist fingers, pianist hands, the very spread of them dwarfing the documents as his eyes rove over each page. The lighting in the room—ample and yet insufficient, there are still so many shadows tucked into every corner of that office space—glares on the lenses of his glasses, temporarily impeding your view of his eyes. This accessory, too, seems somehow out of place, the shape all wrong for his facial structure, giving the illusion that this was yet another part of a disguise, a mere costume prop. You wonder if you tried the visual aids on yourself if you'd discover the lenses would be anything other than clear plastic, lacking any sort of correction.

There are a few signs of aging, a few lines here and there, most notably bracketing his eyes, but the rest of his complexion is smooth, pure—no, that was not the right word to use for this man at all—unblemished, yes, that was better. Unmarked by the natural ravages of time. Defying it. He’s older and yet somehow still young at the same time. Eternal.

It does not take long for the social worker to reach the end of your file. You squirm in your seat, trying to locate a more comfortable position. There is none to be found. Your hands twist together nervously—yours so much smaller than his, so much less delicate with your short fingers, short nails, you’ve tried to grow them out but they always split, so fragile—and then his face finally lifts to regard you, the reflected light sliding from the lenses so that his eyes are no longer obscured from your vision. You feel as if you are on trial, waiting for the judge to deliver the final verdict that will decide your fate. You had no way of knowing, then, how accurate that analogy would prove to be.

“I’ve looked through your file,” he begins, as if you have not been sitting here this entire time, seeing him do that very thing, “and I’m afraid this does not leave you with many options.”

He does not look afraid at all. He looks quite smug, and condescending. You feel yourself wither, shrinking down further into your seat, making yourself even smaller, but there is no escaping that judging gaze, that stare that pierces you like an insect on a taxidermist’s card.

“I’m willing to do anything.” You realize how this sounds the moment the words leave your lips. If you had just added two more, for work, perhaps it would have come across as a little less sleazy. Or maybe not. Maybe any phrasing would still sound the same—needy, desperate.

“Are you?” Something hot fills your gut. His voice is a soft rasp. Those two short words worm their way right inside you, burrowing into your core. They make you want to slide to your knees before this terrible figure, becoming worshipper and supplicant, and do whatever he instructs you to.

“Yes.” You feel as if you are consenting to something you don’t quite grasp all the details and nuances of.

The long fingers drum on the closed folder shielding your demographic information and employment history from view. You are torn between meeting the piercing gaze and watching those digits tapping in rapid succession. Each beat feels like he is grinding you further and further down, mallets that pound you right into the ground. You’re aware your lips are parted, because there is not enough air, not nearly enough, being drawn through your nostrils. Your lips feel chapped, your tongue dry and stuck to the roof of your mouth, adhered to the soft palate.

“I have a position for you.”

Oh, you’re willing to bet he does. Bent over the desk. The cheap skirt you’d gotten on clearance at a local department store lifted. Fingers scrabbling across the surface of the desk blotter, knocking over the placard bearing his name and title on his desk: Steve Raglan, Career Counselor. He does not look like someone who goes by a nickname. He does not even look like a Steve. You’re beginning to imagine just how that inappropriate session might feel—rough, no foreplay, no affection, just taking what he wants, those fingers digging into your skin, slapping—and you feel heat rise in your cheeks, between your legs. Shameful, except you seem fresh out of that feeling. It’s already been used up, the supply exhausted. That urge to please him, to be submissive, washes over you once more.

“What is it?” You manage after struggling to work moisture into your mouth. You’d never be able to suck his cock properly in this condition, but you’re certainly slick enough elsewhere to make up for it.

“A security gig.”

“I’ve never worked as a security guard.”

“Yes, I’m aware. One of the few career paths you haven’t pursued yet.” The disdain drips from every word. You’ve displeased him. He thinks you’re absolutely worthless. You want to prove him wrong.

“Where is it?”

“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria.” This is the first time you hear something other than contempt in the bearded man’s voice. In fact, it was quite the opposite. There is a fondness there. A kind of affection and wonder. His features change, the thin press of his mouth softening, the sharp eyes now glassy with some far off look. Lost in some memory, savoring the details.

Then his eyes fix on your features again, so brisk and whiplike you gasp. “Would you like some coffee?”

“What?” You feel as if you’ve awoken from a trance, breaking free of whatever spell had been cast when he’d mentioned the restaurant name. You’re not familiar with it, but then again, you hadn’t lived here long. Had never really lived anywhere long. Army brat, and then a wanderer once you’d reached adulthood. A professional nomad.

“Coffee,” he repeats, rising to his feet. You’d already gotten the impression he was tall, just judging by what you could see of his upper frame, but you hadn’t anticipated quite this much length. Well over six feet. He towers above the worn piece of furniture in front of him, then makes his way around it to the coffee bar set up behind you. You’d smelled the caffeinated liquid brewing from the hallway, long before you’d ever entered the room. There is the sound of the glass carafe lifting from the burner and its contents poured into two mugs before settling back into place. Paper sugar packets are torn. Multiple. A cup is set on the desk in front of you. It has the look of being homemade, some glazed creation from a pottery class. Made by a child, perhaps? Some other family member? You make no move towards it, watching him stand beside your chair, looking down at you, pushing you even further into the earth with that gaze.

“I don’t drink coffee,” you murmur, sounding apologetic.

“Get used to it. You’re going to need to drink it to stay awake. The position is for third shift.”

“I…I don’t work nights,” you protest.

“You don’t work at all,” he returns, taking a sip from his mug. The words sting. “Beggars cannot be choosers, as they say.”

You swallow thickly, struggling with the movement. Maybe you should take a sip of the offering, just to wet your mouth.

“Drink it,” he says again, and the words make you want to cower, to grovel. Your father had always been strict. Dead and buried for years now and you still felt his presence, sharp and commanding. Maybe that was what made you feel so intense about this older man you’d just met. Daddy issues, some might say. Craving discipline. Being told what to do. You obediently lift the mug and swallow. It’s scalding hot and bitter. He’s placed nothing in it to alleviate the taste, nothing to sweeten or cool it, no sugar or cream, just a straight hot black brew to consume.

“Good girl,” he says, and the praise, oh that praise feels so ridiculously good, borderline orgasmic. You’ve finally done something to please him, and you take another gulp, ignoring your burnt tongue and protesting taste buds.

“When do I start?” You haven’t even discussed wages, or the amount of hours you’ll be working. Details you should care about, but don’t. You’ve already succumbed, agreed to what he’s put before you.

“Tonight. So you’d better take a nap and get some rest later today, because you have a long evening ahead of you.”

“I don’t…what about a uniform? Directions? I don’t know the address.”

“You can skip the uniform for tonight. Just wear something…appropriate.” He returns to his position behind the desk, settling back into the leather office chair. Setting the cup to one side, he swivels around to grab a blank piece of paper from the tray in the fax machine behind him, then rotates back around and begins writing.

The cursive is neat, elegant. Every word has little flourishes. Your eyes linger on the curves of the letters while his eyes linger on the curves of your body. Perhaps you should have done up that top button of your blouse, worn a brassiere that was a bit more restraining. He smiles and you feel the drag of those lips burn your skin, searing flesh and melting through every layer, sinking past muscle and bone, seeping into organs, tissues, reaching that delicate hidden place in your center, hollowed and waiting to be filled.

Then he’s back on his feet and you jerk to yours. One of your lower limbs has fallen asleep, making it feel heavy and awkward. You manage to follow him to the door. It’s solid wood, closed for privacy. Had you shut it? You couldn’t remember. Perhaps the woman who had guided you here had.

“See you at eleven. Be on time.”

You frown, not comprehending. “You’re going to be there?”

“Of course. How else are you going to learn what is expected of you?”

“Oh.” Naturally you’d need some sort of orientation. You lack experience. You have no idea why a restaurant would need guarding.

Maybe you should have wondered more about that. Maybe you should have refused the coffee and the job offer and struck out on your own, trying another town, another office.

But you hadn’t. You had come to Steve Raglan, desperate and eager to please, and he had seized on that neediness, trapping you before you’d ever had a chance to realize it.

He sticks out a hand for you to shake, something he hadn’t bothered with upon meeting you, and you reach for it. He doesn’t perform the expected polite gesture of parting, instead tugging on you, your body instantly shifting forward and dragged closer to his. So, so close. You can feel the heat wafting from him. Such strength in those artful fingers. How easily they would peel your clothing off, whatever he’d care to remove. Pinning you. Using you. No one could see, behind this closed door. The slats of the blinds on the window are shut. No one would ever know. Just the two of you. Your secret.

There’s a hungry haze clouding his eyes now. You lick your lips, still trying and failing for that moisture. He abruptly releases your hand and you want to cry out in protest as he jerks on the door handle and you’re ushered through unceremoniously. It clicks shut behind you.

The hallway is brighter. Fluorescent lighting. The air fresher, less stifling, the temperature cooler. Invigorating. It’s like being doused with cold water. You inhale deeply. You’re free.

But only for the moment.