#lines-in-limbo

[sideprince]

❤️: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom? (Besides Snape 🙈)

🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

🤍: Which character is not as morally bad as everyone else seems to

Ask game: unpopular opinion edition <3

❤️: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom? (Besides Snape 🙈)

I feel like Lily is a lightning rod for people's personal emotional projections. And it makes sense she would be, since she's both a crucial character, and yet barely present. We know next to nothing about her, which makes it easy, in a way, to come up with headcanons. I do find it problematic, though, when people take the small snippets of her that we see and use them as justifications for fully formed opinions. It really bothers me when I see hot takes that focus on Lily almost smiling in SWM and interpret it as if she had laughed out loud heartily and was entertained by the bullying, because it's selectively judgmental and also ignores that she'd spent the entire scene until then standing up for Snape. It's not that I have any particular affection for Lily (if anything, I feel she's a poorly written character whose vaguely portrayed persona is a testament to the wisp of smoke JK Rowling's feminism proves itself to be again and again). I just get really bothered by inaccuracy. It's selective and biased to ignore her previous actions in that scene, and it feels juvenile, immature, and problematic to boil down what is written as a complex friendship we only see a few brief moments of as something for us, the reader, to choose sides in and vilify a participant of. That's not how people are. No one is fully good or fully bad. People make mistakes, especially when they're young, and even if they have faults, there's more to examine and be curious about with a character than whether or not you should love or hate them. Not to mention that Lily (and James for that matter) didn't have the chance to grow as people because they died when they were young. But in general this sums up the issue I have with the fandom and how it mischaracterizes a lot of characters: there's no empathy and no curiosity, only teams and bickering. Which is boring and depressing, frankly (I keep trying to be nice about how I say this but tbh I'm really tired of it and of sugar coating it).

🧡: What is a popular (serious) theory you disagree with?

Honestly what comes to mind is actually something that I think is technically canon - that Tom Riddle was an evil sociopath because he was the product of a love potion and rape. For one thing, his mother loved his father, so it's not like he was the product of an entirely loveless union, she was just emotionally scarred by her abusive family. For another, the metaphor there is, essentially, that children who are the product of rape are damaged in some way - that there's something wrong with them. I think if the story had been that Riddle turned out sociopathic and selfish and vicious because he grew up an orphan in a place where he wasn't taken care of and no one cared about him, that would be a significant and valuable statement on government institutional failings and trauma. Rowling didn't have to make it about motherhood, but that's a choice she makes again and again: judging female characters based on their relationship with maternality. Young Tom Riddle's secretive behavior, anxiety over death that follows him into adulthood, and distrust of adults are red flags for abuse and/or trauma. The fact that Rowling chose to instead make his story about how his mother conceived him while she'd drugged his father with a love potion and that's why he's got the issues he does is just... gross. It's gross. I have no better word for it. I genuinely hate that whole plot point.

🤍: Which character is not as morally bad as everyone else seems to think?

Tbh this answer is less about who isn't as morally bad as people seem to think, and more about whose immorality I can maybe understand (I had a hard time coming up with an answer, ok?). And it's Pettigrew. Obligatory preface: I still think he was deplorable for the things he did, and the fact he went looking for Voldemort instead of using his opportunity to stow away on a ship or a plane as a rat and go to the Americas or Australia and live a quiet, non-murder-abetting life. What I can understand, though, is his choice when he was what, 20 years old? and approached by Voldemort to be a spy and accept the job instead of, you know, being killed. Because while I think he should have understood that his spying would affect the entire wizarding world and cost countless lives, I can also see him seething for years at how James and Sirius treated him like dirt and relishing the opportunity to get back at them. That a kid who grew up in the shadow of "friends" like that has a limited ability to want to protect others and is out for number one. I can understand that if he was a small, overlooked guy whose friends talked down to him when all he wanted was their approval and validation, then what Voldemort was offering him was the potential of a moment where he could be the one to look down at them, and to say, "who's the idiot now?" Again, I don't think he was close to being ethical, or moral, or good, but I think he's complex enough that I can understand why he made some of the choices he did. And he was probably too young to understand that once you make that kind of choice, to help end a life, you can't go back. You will be changed by it irrevocably, if that means the part of you that feels remorse has to shut down for you to survive, then that's what happens. I think Pettigrew isn't thought of much in this fandom, and is often dismissed as an immoral villain, but I think that he's still maybe a bit less horrible than people make him out to be when you look at his complexities.

[inkskinned]

she says he won't let her get a dog, which is fine, because they're in an apartment, and that's the kind of thing people say about their partners. he won't let me get a dog. and you're at a dinner party and you tilt your head a little to the side just like that dog he won't let her get, because is this the thing that's going to upset you? you don't know every corner of their relationship, she could be joking, they could have had so many healthy conversations about the dog, right, and maybe she's not letting herself get the dog because of money and time and whatever. but, like, she did say let

and she wants to move away from his hometown and he wants to stay and then he tells you with a wink and a conspiratorial stage whisper don't worry i'll convince her and she laughs about it - so clearly this is something they laugh about. but you do just stand there and stare at him like what the fuck, man. you can't say what you want to say which is why do you get the final say on everything because they're both obviously aware of the other person's stance on this and have obviously had private conversations about it and what are you going to do about it except make a scene and then he'll be mad at you and call you one of those bitches behind your back and she'll cut you off, which is a loss that doesn't feel worth it just because he makes you a little skeeved out every 3rd comment

and they both agree he just isn't the type to get flowers which is fine because everyone shows love differently, and are you really gonna judge someone based on their sense of individual relationship responsibility? maybe he's constantly cleaning her car and writing her poems and making her furniture or something. maybe she doesn't even like flowers and this is perfect, actually. and no you couldn't date him, obviously, ew; but like, she tells you she's happy. you almost send her a tiktok that says don't be 25 and the cool girl that doesn't need anything, you'll hate not getting flowers at 30, but that's like, starting drama & you shouldn't start drama needlessly.

and you're a little older than her but not so much older you can pull the whole trust me on this one babe thing and besides that wouldn't have worked anyway (when does it ever) and besides you have trauma so you and your therapist both agree that you're always looking for a problem even when there isn't one. and you tell yourself that just because you see them for 15 minutes every month does not mean you can identify every single red flag based on a single shitty half-joking(?) comment

and besides, what are you going to do? she says i actually wanted another stand mixer but thankfully he stops me when i'm about to spend too much money and you're standing there like are you okay? is this normal? is this just something people say? and again - what are you going to do?

to your therapist you try to language it - it's not, like, any of my business. but sometimes, doesn't it feel like - you should do something. there's got to be something, right? you've tried dropping little hints but they sail right through and you've tried having a single serious conversation and she got upset because why does it matter to you, yes it's different but we're happy, it doesn't need to make sense to you and you're like. really unwilling to push a boundary about it anymore; because the truth is that you know logically it shouldn't matter to you, as long as both parties are happy.

and besides, you've been wrong before. it's just... like, every time you see them both, something else happens, some kind of shiver down your spine like do you even hear each other when you talk. it's their strange, bickering orbit. just the way he's on his phone through dinner or watching sports instead of helping in the kitchen or, fuck, another one of these little throwaway comments he makes about we'll see about that, babe. she laughs when he calls her passions stupid shit and meanwhile she gets him tickets to see the knicks and he tells you well at least she's smart about something and still! it's none of your business.

you say get the dog anyway and she laughs. like, this is is you being funny. and not you saying - no really. get the dog. get the dog and get out of here. pack up and start running.

[bug-molars]

It’s them!!! <:)

[paperclip-skz]

Crave part 4

Reader x Felix

*WARNING*

contains: teasing, praising, oral (fem rec), restraints, cliff hanger. (please let me know if I missed anything)

WC: 2.6k

**************

Felix

The cuffs I previously grabbed are forgotten, as I worship your body, leaving nicks and kisses in my wake. I snake my arm across your body keeping you pinned to the bed. The marks turning into a pretty pink and purple paint your skin, I make a mental note of how your body squirms when I press my fingers into the sensitive bruises. I angle myself so I’m face to face with your bare core, blowing on your swollen clit. You moan, squirming your body to the sensation, I quickly pin your body down with my palm, tracing delicate circles on your stomach with my fingertips. You're overly sensitive, and I can feel your body zing with pleasure as my hands roam your sides. 

I could fuck you for days if I could. The feeling of your tight folds molding around me is something I will remember till the day I die. 

“Stop squirming,” I order, your back arches off the bed, a reaction I catch. “Do you like it when I order you around?” A small whimper is all you respond with. A chuckle leaves my lips, and I can’t help but smirk.

I have an idea.

 I lean off of you and your head whips up to look at me. I can see the pout on your face at the loss of heat, so before I walk away from you to get the next toy, I lean down and press a feather-light kiss on your lips. I groan when I pull away from you, your lips are so soft, so perfect against mine. I make my movements quickly as I grab the velvet blindfold and my chain necklace. It’s one of my favorites for many reasons. 

I walk back over to you, your body sprawled out on my bed, such a beautiful sight. I lean over to you to gently wrap the blindfold around you. I then go back to my previous position, straddling your sides and hovering over you. I stay there momentarily, admiring the slight glint of sweat coating your skin, how your chest rises and falls with each heavy breath you take, and how your hands are still above your head, acting as if they are chained, but they aren’t.

“You can move your hands, Angel.” Even though your eyes are covered, I can see the curious look on your face. Suddenly, you are brave enough to let one hand slip down and feel around the bed sheets. Your hands find their way up my arms and feel out my shoulders. Your soft hands trace every muscle of my upper body. With one sense taken away from you, all your other senses are on high alert, making you feel every movement and touch one hundred times more intense. 

The feel of your soft hands makes my eyes flutter. All I want to do is be at your complete mercy, but tonight, you're at mine. 

I dip my head down to place gentle kisses across your bare chest, your hands start to grip my shoulders reacting to the sudden feeling of my tongue circling your hardened nipple and the cold chain making contact with your heated skin.

“Felix” you whimper

I crane my head up, watching yours roll back against the pillow. Your hands have made their way into my hair, pulling at my roots. It makes me groan.

I dip my head back down and continue kissing your body, my chain leaving a cold trail across your skin. I can see the goosebumps form over your body. 

I’m only kissing you, but the way your body reacts to every little thing I do makes my cock twitch with need.  

I don’t think I’ve ever craved anyone this much, cummed this much, or entertained the idea of someone this much, but with you I could be everything and anything. I could be your prince charming or your villain if I chose, and you would be all but willing. 

I lift myself from your body and take the chain in my hands, wrapping it around my fist. “This is how we are going to play” Slowly I lower the chain to rub against your wet nipple, you flinch at the cold contact and your body squirms at the foreign feeling. “Every time you flinch” I trace the chain down further down your body, “or whimper, or even squirm” I can see the goosebumps on your skin as I venture to your heated core, the metal still cold. “Is a minute longer without my touch”. 

As i finish the rules of my little game, your lips pout and I can hear you whimper in protest. I press the metal to the mound of your pussy, just above your clit and your folds, making your whole body shake with anticipation. 

“What were the rules Angel?” 

“No whimpering, no moving” you repeat. 

“Good girl” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ the next morning. 

You

Heat, I feel heat everywhere on my body, in my body, heat surrounds me. My eyes slowly lift and the small cast of the run breaks into the velvet room. Right, the room. I guess after last night I passed out. 

I moan as I feel that same heat slick my folds. I try to grab hold of whatever heat is making my body buzz with pleasure, but my hands are cuffed above my head. A much louder moan is dragged out of my as I feel that same heat re-enter me. “Ahh, I guess sleeping beauty if finally up” I look down, and low and beloh Felix pokes his head up from under the covers and rest his chin on the lower half of my belly. My chest rises and falls with uneven breaths as the heat I felt moments ago settles down. 

“I didn’t want to wake you” he says in the sweetest voice possible. 

“So you decided to eat me out?” I laugh. 

“I wanted breakfast” he rolls his eyes playfully, and I chuckle with him. The mention of food makes my mouth water, and soon my belly grumbles with the idea of a hefty breakfast. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one,” he murmured, his lips grazing my belly before he pushed himself up and sauntered over to the two giant doors in the corner of the room. As he opened them, a tantalizing display of identical white shirts lined the shelves, with drawers full of unworn garments waiting patiently inside. He selected a shirt and a pair of plain white panties, tossing them onto the bed with a playful grin.

“Put these on and meet me in the kitchen. I’ll whip up something delicious for you,” he said, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he winked at me. That’s when I noticed he was wearing nothing but his snug grey sweatpants, perfectly accentuating his defined chest and leaving me breathless. When did he wake up?

I buttoned up the white shirt and slid on the panties he had provided, why does he have this? Does he do this often, often enough to keep backups? How often does he bring girls to his place?

Questions run ramped through my head as I make my way out of the door of teh velvet room and follow the sound of bustling pans and soft music. There I see Felix humming along to some music as he cooks eggs on the stove. He dance along to the music that plays in the bathroom and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of me, warming my chest with something unfamiliar. 

“You look like your having fun” I break him out of his little groov and he looks up to scan my naked legs. 

“And you look absolutely edible,” he teases, his eyes dancing with mischief. It’s true; I’m wearing very little. The white button-up shirt drapes over me, falling to the middle of my thighs, while the barely-there cotton panties do little to conceal the aftermath of Felix’s earlier tantalization.

But the heated moment dwindles as my stomach lets out a soft growl, reminding me of my hunger. “Come on and eat,” he urges, his voice smooth as he gestures to the counter.

I take my seat at the marble counter, anticipation simmering as Felix places a plate full of sizzling eggs and crispy bacon in front of me. I can’t help but hum in delight as I dig into the delicious spread. “You like it?” he asks, sliding in close beside me, his warmth radiating as he adds a piece of toast to my plate.

“It’s amazing,” I reply, words muffled as I savor every bite. A light laugh escapes us, and we share a comfortable silence, letting the food and chemistry between us speak for itself.

“So,” I break the stillness, a sly smile playing on my lips, “last night—”

“Was the best night ever,” he interrupts, his gaze steady and intense. Heat rushes to my cheeks at his words, and I can’t help but recall just how incredible last night truly was, making my thighs instinctively press together. But I remind myself to stay focused; I know nothing about this mysterious man, and I have so many questions lingering in the air between us.

“Can i ask you something?” I tip toe around my words, as he waits patiently to continue. “How many women do you bring to that room?” I should be asking more important questions that that, I should be asking why he has a closet full of these shirts or a drawer full of panites? I should ask why he has that room or what happens when I leave him today? Will I see him again? Will this become a distant memory?

He stays silent for a moment. And then he get up from his stool, takes my plate and walk over to the sink. He turns on the water to rinse off the dishes and starts to speak, “I can’t tell you how many women I’ve shown that room to” he sets the plates down and turns around to look me in the eye, he leans against the counter of the sink and crosses his arms, “but I can tell you I’ve only ever let 3 women sleep the night in that room” he tilts his head as I think over his words, “and if your wondering about the closet full of shirts and the drawer full of panites, its because I’m a very particular man, and my…sensual activities are also extremely particular” he explains but it only has me questioning more. 

I bite my lip as I think, but his stare catches me off guard. I remember his words from last night “The only person that can bite this lip is me, don’t damage something so precious.” I release my lip, and its like he’s been holding a breath. I watch him relax back into the counter, and even more questions arize. 

Suddenly, the air becomes much thicker than before. The time has come for the awkward morning goodbye. Reality is like a heavy anvil crashing down onto me. Even though he could say last night was the best night of his life, that's all it was—a night, a single night shared in a moment of heat….a hookup. 

“I guess it’s time for me to go,” I say as I get up. Thank you so much for breakfast. I’ll grab my clothes.” Quickly, I turn around to the couch from last night, where my dress and shoes are neatly folded on the cushions. 

~~~~~~~

Shit shit. I’ve never done this before, how do I make her stay. I’ve never wanted a girl to stay here before, so how do you tell her not to go? 

I pace around the living room,, thinking of ways to stopfrom leaving, but nothing comes to mind, not. Nothingd change the fact that we are both complete strangers with no strings attached. 

My chest aches at the thought of not seeing her eyes one more time, not being able to kiss her petal like lips, how the hell do I get her to stay…unless. 

The click of her heels becomes louder and louder until I see her fiddling with her purse, her hair a shivel array of messy strands that make her look irresistible. “Okay I think I have everything” she announces, starting to make her way to me front door. 

“Oh?” Panic ignites in my chest as I realize what’s at stake.

“Yup, I guess this is it, then,” she shrugs, but there’s an unguarded vulnerability in her eyes, a flicker of hesitation that stirs something deep within me. 

“It doesn’t have to be,” I say, my voice low and earnest as I reach out, my fingertips barely grazing the space between us. Please, please don’t leave me like this. 

Her brow furrows, curiosity mixing with confusion as she waits for me to unveil my thoughts. “I told you I’m a particular man, but you—there’s something intoxicating about you. It’s pulling me in,” I confess, struggling to explain this whirlwind of emotions that feel both exhilarating and terrifying. My usual detachment falters under the weight of her presence; the thought of her walking away sends a surge of longing that crashes through me. “Just… please, don’t go.” 

Her eyes lock onto mine, filled with intrigue but also caution. “What exactly do you suggest I do?” she challenges, her voice steady yet laced with tension. She’s sharp, and I know there’s no way she’d just stay without demanding the truth. I can sense the flood of questions swirling behind her gaze, yet I’m bound by secrets that tighten my throat. 

“You could become my submissive,” I propose, the words spilling from my lips like silk, and my heart races at the surprise that washes over her features. 

“Your what!” She exclaims, eyes wide with disbelief and something akin to excitement. 

“It’s not what you think,” I reassure her, stepping slightly closer, feeling the magnetic pull between us grow stronger. “It could work in both directions. When you asked about the women in that room, I didn’t share the whole story. I’m particular, yes, but something is differnt here… I know you can feel it too.” 

I can see the cogs turning in her mind, a mix of intrigue and apprehension. “So, you’re like a real-life Christian Grey, then?” she asks cautiously, a hint of mischief dancing in her voice.

I chuckle softly, a grin creeping onto my face. “If that’s how you want to label me.” I step forward, closing the distance, but she flinches slightly, retreating just enough to remind me of the boundaries we tread. “But it’s still me.” 

“I know,” she breathes, her voice thick with uncertainty, her gaze darting around the room, as if searching for solid ground in this dizzying willingness to explore. “It’s just… I still don’t know you fully, and now you’re asking me to stay and be your submissive—or switch, or whatever…” She exhales sharply, her cheeks flushed, as if the very idea sends a thrill through her. “I don’t know.” 

With every word, the air thickens between us, charged with an intoxicating blend of fear, curiosity, and desire. 

“It's a lot, I understand. Just think about it.” I smile. " Text me if you change your mind or if you have any questions.” I hold out my hand for her phone. Please, I can’t let you go. 

Reluctantly, you pull out your phone and let me enter my number. After that, I walk you to the door and out, where the elevator still is. You walk in silently and turn to press the button. 

Before the door closes, you whisper under your breath, “Goodbye Felix”

“Goodbye Angel…for now.”

*****************

A/N: this isn't important by any means, but I'm posting this on my birthday☺ !!!

[bimbosupreme]

douman gore art under readmore:

ꜱᴛᴇʀᴇᴏɪꜱᴏᴍᴇʀ: (ɴᴏᴜɴ) ᴍᴏʟᴇᴄᴜʟᴇꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴜʀᴀʟ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴜʟᴀ, ᴏɴʟʏ ᴅɪꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴘᴀᴛɪᴀʟ ᴀʀʀᴀɴɢᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴀᴛᴏᴍꜱ

[disgruntled-lifeform]

Anyone else get reeeaaaallllly close to finishing an embroidery project and just...can't complete it?

Like, once I do these last bits, then that's it and there is some strange fear attached to it?

No? Just me?

[reamed]

can someone plz cry with me

[sisididis]

Bianca and Nico di Angelo’s story is equal parts heartbreaking and hilarious, because imagine this. You are two Venetian children (aged 12 and 10 respectively) who don’t speak a lick of English yet you’re dropped off in the middle of 1930s Las Vegas. Although it feels like only 2 months have passed since your arrival, you and your sibling unknowingly spend 70 years in an atemporal limbo known as Lotus Hotel Casino. You learn English by playing tabletop games, bingo, ring toss, slots…even Mythomagic.

When you think about it, Bianca and Nico learned to speak English the same way 2010s kids learned by watching Pewdiepie and Markiplier on Youtube. 

[10piecechickenmcnugget]

*staring at myself in the mirror* do NOT think about c!wils guitar do not think about him getting it when he was little and playing it constantly do not think about him playing it for money as he traveled to the smp do not think about him playing it for the og lmanberg crew do not think about him writing the anthem do not think about him being forced to leave it behind after the election do not think about it getting destroyed in the explosion on november 16th do not think about him spending months in exile and years in limbo and just forgetting about it do not think about him getting revived and walking around singing to himself do not think about him moving to utah and finding a little music shop near his shitty ass gas station do not think about him saving up his paychecks for months and doing anything he could to save some money do not think about him sitting down in his shit apartment playing again for the first time in god knows how long and it’s not quite the same it’s not quite his but it’s good enough

[lunarcrown]

Talking about pairs? Hear me out: Zedaph/Tango/Impulse/Skizz :> also question if Atlas ever were to get into a relationship who do you think would it be? (he probably sees no use to relationships unless he can exploid the other person smh but it's still an interesting thought)

YESSS ok this is why I need to make a Zed design soon as well bc he is so unhinged and I need to draw this squad and ZANY ADVENTURE

Oh man ATLAS DHHD idk if anyone could STAND his ass but hels is full of surprises I’m sure 😂 his “started from the bottom, oh shit I’m back at the bottom but I’m pretending it’s not actually bad” brand of energy and new gold tooth probably are attractive to SOMEONE.

His first and most fierce love is The Grind/the social Climb and Science (by any means), but besides that he probably appreciates big strong individuals who radiate leadership and power. Unfortunately I think eventually his “I can do it better” itch would make him try and one up whoever he was with, thus dooming them HAHA

[confusion-est]

cw for nudity/blood/yapping under the crop (oh and also tumblr tanking quality for some reason, death)

Yahooo I didn't draw ANYTHING tboi related in like!! A while!! What uni does to a mf.

uhhh ive been thinking about designs and it kinda spiraled into an au? I won't yap about it here, I'll do that later, buuuut yeah. oops. Anyways Lilith in that au is kinda symbolic of a different mother figure (that isn't maggy) to isaac. Like. I guess he heard of Lilith and wanted to make something out of it, but also couldn't bring himself to make her a bad mom? Because that would force him to self reflect on his own home-life and he's not doing that, bro's 5?? So yeah, just kinda ran with that kind of take. Also Lilith's dress is inverted mom's dress on purpose, mostly because I didn't want to draw her with tits out, mostly. Also bit of unrelated demon/incubus lore because isaac strikes me as a type of kid to like... make a whole ass world surrounding his characters they can't just exist in the void. And it's totally not a way for him to express that he feels bad for wanting to leave his mom, because poor dude doesn't understand mistreatment. But yah that's it for now, wanted to draw isaac intercting with lilith but it's late, im tired. Maybe I'll do it later, when better explaining what I wanna do with these... things. Au??? Whatever.

[boygirlctommy]

it felt like it had its hands wrapped around me...

[dmitriyuriev]

She did not like the sun, because she always believed that it mocked and ridiculed her.

[bug-molars]

Woo yeah give it up for old people!!

[paperclip-skz]

Hyunjin's Love and Leashes ( part 4 ) Office Blowout

fem*Reader x Hyunjin

*WARNING*

WC: 2.9k

Contains: mentions of sexual content, and BDSM references, second hand embarrassment, this is going to be a lot of parts and little parts to it (there is a cliffhanger at the end)

Also note: This story is HEAVLY influenced by the Netflix movie Love and Leashes. This is just "my" version of it, you could say. I am writing to write and I recommend you watch Love and Leashes. *** This is not an original idea, this IS INSPIRED BY A MOVIE/ANIME**

****

part 1 part 2 part 3

***

Month 2

2 months before the contract ends

In the weeks that followed, you let your imagination run wild with every session. 

You continued your research to be more prepared, which led you to the candles you found online. They were safe and specifically designed for burning on the skin. 

You booked another room in another hotel and let him rest in the grand bathtub in the bathroom. Lit candles were placed around every corner, lighting the room dimly as Hyunjin rested peacefully. He let his whole body relax, his eyes closed, and his heart steady. You walked over with your special candle in hand and traced your finger down the spine of his back. His muscles contracted in anticipation, but when the first droplet of melted wax hit his skin, his back reacted like clouds, creating a storm. His hushed moans filled the air as you painted his skin.

Then, the following week, you decided that sensory play was the best play you both shared. You gathered objects that made his skin crawl with goosebumps. 

Ever since your last “session,” the only thing tying you two together besides work has been stolen glances and hidden commands.

You would hide commands at work, ensuring Hyunjin understood who was in control, even outside the playpen.

“Hyunjin, go grab me the schedule from my desk,” you would say, something completely hidden from everyone else, but the second you made any sort of demand, Hyunjin would sit up straight, a beautiful blush spreading across his cheeks. 

You could tell when he thought of that night, the night he traced his lips across your bare skin. You couldn’t deny that you thought of it, too,  almost every night. You could feel the faintness of his lips; you could imagine the hunger in his eyes…

“Y/N?” you snap back to the presentation before you. 

“Yes,” you say, clearly trying to act unbothered. 

“Umm, anyways, as I was saying,” the presentation continues, and you can hear Hyunjin smirk beside you. His cheeks are the faintest bit of pink, but his smile is mischievous. 

As the presentation goes on, you slowly lose interest. As words drag and sentences seem endless, you wonder when this meeting will end and how long you really have to be here. 

Hyunjin coughs beside you, and you immediately turn your head to look at him. That’s when you notice he’s wearing the glasses you gave him. He seems unbothered and oblivious, as if his body embodies calmness. However, when he adjusts his glasses slightly, his eyes glance toward you, almost as if he’s sending you a hidden message…and you understand instantly.

If anything has taught you about Hyunjin in the past few days and…sessions, it’s taught you how to read him. The difference lies in when he wants attention and when he wants to be dominated. Your spine straightens, and a devilish smirk spreads across your lips.

The presentation soon ends, but you have one last comment: “Thank you for these notes; I’ll get right on them, but I need to discuss something with Mr. Hwang. May we have the room, please?” You ask politely. As each member of your team begins to leave, everyone seems none the wiser. 

****************

He can’t explain why he did what he did. You both agreed that even when he needed your dominance in the workplace, it wouldn’t interrupt a meeting of any kind. So why did he give you the signal?  

Maybe because he was addicted to you, ever since that session where he grazed your skin, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. And not just what other parts of your body he could graze, but just you. The way you scrunched your nose when you had a good meal. Or the way your laugh left your lips like a summer breeze. Or just your confidence in everything you did. He was falling, and he was falling fast. 

Once the last member of your team leaves, Hyunjin watches as you crane your head back to him with a wicked smile. “What did you need, pretty boy?” 

He’ll never admit it, but he secretly loves it when you call him that. Such a praising nickname said in such a degrading way; it made the tent in his pants tighten. “Y-you,” he stumbles. 

“Here?” you ask, still smiling. 

He nods his head, already at a loss for words. “Tsk tsk tsk,” you shake your head in mock disappointment, “when anyone could see you.” He didn’t miss the fact you said ‘you.’ Almost acting like you didn’t care to get caught, only thinking about his position in all this, his embarrassment. Why did that make his body want to sing? Want to explode with pent-up tension….. It was official: you were going to kill him, and he was going to have a big fat smile on his face when he died. 

“Answer me,” you demanded. 

He flinched at your sudden tone and stumbled out a shaky “yes.” 

He can see a flicker in your eyes, but you keep your confidence. 

“Be here after work. I need to teach you a lesson,” you say in the most addictive voice he thinks he’s ever heard. 

****( 4 hours later )

You made him flinch. You’ve never seen him flinch like that. Was your tone too strong? Maybe you shouldn’t have been so direct with him….

No. He asked for you to be direct and practically control him. Besides, if he were really scared, he would have said so. 

Still, doubts cloud your mind as your and everyone’s shifts come to an end. “Hey,” one of your coworkers pokes their head in through your office door, “me and some others are going for drinks afterward. Wanna come?” 

“Nah, can’t,” you say. “Already got plans,” you smile kindly. If they only knew your ‘plans’ included something much more sinister. 

They nodded out the door and headed for the elevators, where the last of your team had separated. You had told Hyunjin to return to the meeting room after work, so when you walked in and saw Hyunjin sitting in the same chair in the same spot as before, you weren’t surprised.

You walk into the meeting room, your body in a rush of warmth. 

*********

“You needed me. In the middle of a meeting. Why?” Your voice is cold, cold as ice that pierces the silence of the room. 

His eyes can’t meet yours. He’s so ashamed of his thoughts he can’t bear to look at you. “Why!” you raise your voice slightly, and he snaps his eyes to yours. 

“I-I—” he stutters. How does he explain? He simply can’t. If he did, he would say that he is helplessly falling in love with the woman he asked to be his dominant, but the thought alone makes his stomach turn. 

“You what?” you say, your brows pulling in confusion.

“I’m sorry,” he’s defeated. Words are lost, and his head hangs low. “I- I don’t know what came over me. I got jealous and needy and I don’t know. I’m sorry.”  

A pause. A breath of silence fills the air, his words hanging like bait. “Take off your belt.” Blood rushes to his ears, his whole face red and heated. 

“Wha-”

“Do you trust me?” Your voice drips like honey, smooth and enticing.

“Yes,” he breathes, a hint of anticipation in his tone. Deliberately, he removes his belt, the leather sliding through the hoops of his dress pants with a tantalizing slowness. You snatch the thick material from his hands, your fingers brushing against his skin as you stretch it across your palm.

“Stand there,” you command, pointing to the edge of the table, your eyes locking onto his.

Hyunjin moves to obey, leaning against the table with his palms gripping the edge. He casts a quick glance at you, catching the sight of your wet lips and the frantic spark in your eyes, but your posture remains unwavering.

The air thickens with tension, and a heartbeat of silence extends before you raise the belt high above your head. You bring it down against the table with a swift motion, the crack echoing like a thunderclap. He flinches, the sound electrifying, igniting a thrilling rush that races down his spine. It's a feeling he never knew he craved, each sharp sound pulling him deeper into the moment, hungry for the next taste of exhilaration.

“Was that so bad?” your voice lingers in the air, wrapping around him like silk. His chest rises and falls with heavy, intoxicating breaths.

His gaze locks onto yours, and you find yourself holding your breath. The vibrant spark in his eyes has dimmed, replaced by a smoldering darkness that sends a shiver down your spine and ignites something deep within.

Hyunjin straightens, a predatory grace in his movements, his knuckles gripping the edge of the table, white with need. “Do it again,” he whispers, each word dripping with desire.

He sits there. And he takes his punishment, letting the slash of his belt pierce the air from how you hit it on the counter. It makes him flinch, but it also sends a wave of electricity through his body, something he can’t describe, something he’s never felt before. 

He’s never trusted anyone so much in his life. Someone he would trust not to hurt him but tiptoe just above the edge of pain. 

“Do you really think I would do this to just anyone?” you scream. 

And then you stop. The chilling air freezes in place, and the silence is so thick you could cut it with a knife. You take a careful step towards him. He shuts his eyes so tightly that tears begin to build, but he refuses to let them fall, not yet. 

He can hear your body shuffle, and then a delicate hand is placed on his cheek. He keeps his eyes closed but leans into the touch, grazing his rosy cheeks. And that is when he feels it. Plush lips pressing against his in a kiss he can barely register. It's so soft he can barely feel it. You were so gentle that he almost didn’t kiss you back. 

He struggles to let go of the table, but his body stays still, unwilling to reach for you. Instead, his lips press forward, seeking a deeper kiss. He pours his heart and soul into every movement, and tears stream down his cheeks. You gently bring him closer, resting your forehead against his while your thumbs tenderly wipe away his tears.

The belt was long forgotten on the ground. You both stay their in silence, Hyunjin studying every breath you release, roses. He smelt those same roses. His eyes closed as he breathed deeply, his lungs swelled with that familiar smell and a smile danced along his lips. “Are you okay?” you said. Your voice shaky, that recent dominate tone gone and forgotten and replaced by something gentle, careful.

“So much better than okay” he replies, his hands finally leaving the edge of the table and grabbing hold of your waist. 

“Don’t worry I just left it in here” a voice call out beyond the meeting room door. 

Both you and Hyunjin’s eyes snap to the door…. Shit.

*****

Shit. Shit .Shit. 

No one. No one can see you like this. Panic courses through your veins like ice water, and every heartbeat feels like a silent drumroll of dread pounding against your ribcage. Hyunjin, ever perceptive, mirrors the raw panic etched across your face, his eyes wide and glistening with fear.

Footsteps thud ominously behind the door, each echo reverberating through the air like a countdown to impending doom. Your breath hitches in your throat as you sense the crushing weight of your situation pressing down on you. It’s only moments before the jingle of the doorknob slices through the tense silence, a chilling prelude to what’s about to unfold. “What do we do?” Hyunjin whispers, his voice trembling with pure horror.

Your lips part in a silent gasp, and your eyes widen as they dart around the cramped room, searching for a way out that isn’t there. The air is heavy and suffocating, thick with the scent of fear and desperation. Your heart sinks into the pit of your stomach when the doorknob rattles, sending a fresh wave of panic surging through you. In a frantic rush, you grab the collar of Hyunjin’s shirt, pulling him down toward the cold, unforgiving floor. You collapse with him, your pulse racing like a wild drum.

“Ah, here it is,” a voice calls from just beyond the door, dripping with malice. Instinctively, you bite down hard on your lip to suppress a whimper, and with a surge of urgency, you slam your hand over Hyunjin’s mouth, stifling any sound that could betray your hiding place.

“Alright, alright, I’m coming,” the voice continues, each word sending icy tendrils of fear spiraling through you. You hear the door click shut, sealing off the fleeting moment of hope. In that instant, the tension in the room is palpable. Both of you release a shuddering breath, but the momentary relief is short-lived as reality crashes back in. 

Memories race to the front of your mind like a gun shooting into the abyss. You brace yourself on your hands above Hyunjin. His cheeks are a lovely shade of pink, but no matter how delicate he looks, no matter how badly you want to feel his lips against yours again. This has all gone far enough. You get up quickly, heart racing as you straighten your outfit and smooth down your hair. Hyunjin mirrors you, but he’s a mess—his outfit is disheveled, his hair tousled, and the worry in his eyes is palpable. He’s terrified you’ll leave, and it grips you.

“I should go. It’s getting late,” you say, avoiding his gaze, the weight of his stare making it hard to breathe.

“Wait, please,” he pleads, reaching for your arm, but you’re already striding toward the door. Each echo of your heels feels like a countdown.

“Y/N, please,” he calls out, urgency lacing his voice.

You hit the elevator button, keeping your eyes fixed forward. You might lose your resolve completely if you dare meet those crystalline eyes again.

“Y/N, look at me, please.” His voice is laced with desperation, tearing at your heart. “Tell me that kiss didn’t scare you away.”

The elevator dings open, and you step inside, spinning around to press the button that seals you both in this small space. Hyunjin slips in right after you, and for a split second, you notice how out of place his tie is and how ruffled his shirt looks. It sends a jolt through you—a mix of desire and fear twisting in your belly.

As the doors close, he stands so close that you can feel the heat radiating from him. “Y/N…” His breathy voice calls to you, normally a melody you’d savor, but now it feels like a siren’s song pulling you deeper into chaos. You both crossed a line, and that knowledge is suffocating. The contract may have left room for this kind of touch, but your own mental barriers were supposed to keep you safe from this kind of connection. 

“This is too dangerous; too much is at risk,” you think, panic gripping you. “Goddamn it, Y/N!” he suddenly exclaims, slamming the emergency stop button, bringing the elevator to an abrupt halt. He grabs your wrist, spinning you around until your back hits the wall, his arms pinning your wrists above your head.

The gasp escapes your lips, sharp and raw—so loud it could shatter glass. The roles reversed have your head spinning out of control. 

“Will you please look at me?” You can’t look away. You're stunned to silence. Your chest is heaving. 

“You- your,” he stumbles. His eyes are frantic, searching yours for something, anything that screams he crossed the line, but he doesn’t see it. He only sees a cocktail of lust and shock.

“I’m being dominated,” you let out in a whisper. You both giggle, but he makes no move to remove your wrists. Hyunjin’s eyes dart to your lips and up to your eyes quickly. 

“Tell me that kiss didn’t scare you away,” his voice low to your ear, but his eyes hold an intensity that makes your heart swell. “It didn’t scare me,” you manage to reply, the words hanging in the air, heavy with unspoken desire. “I just—” The rest falters on your lips, caught in the heat of the moment. You glance up at the ceiling, seeking answers in the shadows above, but nothing comes. Biting your lip, you feel the thrill of vulnerability as you expose your neck, a silent invitation that hangs between you.

As if something urged him, Hyunjin leans forward. His lips smother your neck, and his teeth and tongue dance across your skin. A moan escapes you. Never would you have imagined Hyunjijn taking control in a situation like this. Taking the initiative like he would on any given day, but not with you. He always reserved his commanding side for the office, leaving the gentle, submissive side to you. 

This was different. His kisses felt desperate and needed as if he were communicating a secret message with every kiss. 

In that moment, you don’t think or want to think. All you crave is to feel—every desperate swipe of his tongue, every pleading caress of his lips. 

“Hyunjin,” you gasp, and for a fleeting second, his confidence wavers. He pulls away, his eyes shimmering with uncertainty. 

“Don’t leave,” he pleads, his voice thick with urgency. Those two words crumble your last defenses, unleashing a torrent of emotions that threaten to drown you, plunging you into a chaos you know is dangerous. 

“I won’t,” you promise, though your heart races with fear and longing. 

His smile is a lifeline, reaching his ears as he crashes his lips against yours, sealing this moment in desperation. “Come with me,” he urges, and your brow furrows in confusion. “Come home with me.”

….

[ego-slaughter]

You can ask questions or I can not bleed out on your doorstep

Chapters: 1/1

Fandom: Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationship: Ortega/Sidestep

Characters: Sidestep, Ricardo Ortega

Additional Tags: post-Retribution, post-crash, innocent ending, unrevealed villain, angst, stitches, blood, kinda hurt/comfort but more whump, villain shows up injured at the hero’s door, but the hero doesn’t know the villain is the villain

Summary: You had nowhere else to go.

if Ao3 is blocked in your country dm me for a PDF