#of giving into to a desire to control others

[chaossturns]

innocent!reader giving bf!matt head for the first time

𝜗𝜚 bf!matt, oral (m!receiving), pet names, swearing, innocent!reader

𝜗𝜚 wc: 1216

matt couldn't stop thinking about your eagerness to have your mouth explore the uncharted territory of his body, which was his cock.

it’s a pity that such a attractive person like yourself has yet to explore the delights of pleasure with another, but he was overjoyed to be your partner in crime. he was excited to introduce you to the joys of pleasuring each other, uncovering your deepest desires and what brings you the most bliss also.

sitting on the edge of the bed, his leg slightly jittering, chest heaving with anticipation and longing of this moment finally coming to. he couldn't wait to see your innocent curiosity unfold before him.

as you nervously knelt in front of him in between his spread legs, matt’s breath caught in his fucking throat. the urge to lose control was strong, but he managed to reign in his primal desires, holding onto the sheets for dear life as the veins in his hands were bulging out

on your knees, those innocent eyes almost causing him to makes him want to cum on the spot without you even doing anything, he reached out to touch your cheek tenderly, feeling you nuzzle into his hand. god, you’re so precious, he didn’t deserve a sweet thing like you.

"how about you do the honors of taking it out of my pants for me, hm?" matt asked of you with a voice of tenderness and a shaky exhale of desperation.

“o-okay,” you answered meekly, an overbearing amount of anxiety flooding throughout your body.

matt tried not to gasp as your delicate fingers fumbled with his belt, your touch gentle and hesitant. the anticipation was nearly unbearable, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, eager to be freed.

he watched you intently, taking in every detail of your expression - the way your brow furrowed in concentration, the slight tremble of your hands as you worked to undo his fly. it was almost too much to bear, the innocence in your eyes as you prepared to commit such a sinful act.

fuck, you were so cute when you're being naughty.

matt let out a shaky exhale, his hips twitching forward slightly as you finally managed to free his cock from its prison. it sprang forth, hard and ready, the tip already glistening with precum.

"go on then," he murmured, his voice low and husky with desire. "don't be shy. i want to feel that pretty mouth of yours."

he tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you closer to his aching length. the first touch of your lips against his sensitive skin made him hiss in pleasure, his grip tightening reflexively.

god, your mouth felt so good.

matt fought the urge to thrust up into the wet heat of your mouth, wanting to let you set the pace. he could feel every flick of your tongue, every gentle suck, and it was driving him wild with need.

“that's it, just like that," he praised, his voice strained. "you're doing so well, baby."

he could feel his release already building, the pleasure coiling tight in his belly. but he didn't want this to end too soon. he wanted to savor every moment of your innocence being corrupted by his lust.

you took him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length. you were trying to make sure you got it right, wanting matt to enjoy this.

he could feel you taking him deeper, your throat stretching to accommodate his girth. the sensation was indescribable, a raw, primal pleasure that coursed through his veins like fire.

matt nearly lost it. the heat of your mouth, the way your tongue swirled around the sensitive head and length - it was almost too much to bear.

"that's it, take it all," he groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily. "fuck, you're so good at this."

matt couldn't believe how natural you were at this, how eagerly you devoured his cock like it was the most delicious thing you'd ever tasted. it was intoxicating, the way you surrendered yourself to the act with such innocent abandon.

he could feel his release building more and more, his balls tightening as you worked him over with your mouth. but he didn't want to cum yet. he wanted to savor this moment, to watch you pleasure him with those sweet, inexperienced lips.

"slow down, baby," he murmured, gently collecting your hair in his hand. "i don't want this to end too soon."

he looked down at you, taking in the sight of your lips stretched around his cock, your eyes glazed with lust. it was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen.

you looked so fucking hot like this.

matt knew he wouldn't last much longer. the pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming. but he was determined to make this last, to give you the pleasure you deserved.

"fuck, I'm close," he warned, his voice strained. "if you keep that up, i'm going to cum down your throat."

the thought alone was enough to make him shudder, his cock throbbing in your mouth. he could feel himself reaching the edge, the pressure mounting with every flick of your tongue.

"do you want that?" he asked, his voice rough with desire. "do you want me to fill your mouth with my cum?"

you hummed around his length, agreeing with his words as you continued.

the vibrations of your humming around his cock made matt’s breath catch in his throat. the sensation was exquisite, the gentle suction and the feeling of your lips stretched around him sending waves of pleasure coursing through his body.

the thought of filling your mouth with his cum, of seeing you swallow it down like a good girl was almost too much to bear.

"that's it, baby," he groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily. "take it all like a good girl."

matt’s hips beginning to rock, fucking your mouth with shallow thrusts as he chased his release. the wet heat of your throat, the slick slide of your tongue, the obscene sound of your slurping and sucking - it was driving him wild with lust.

"fuck, I'm gonna cum," he warned, his voice strained. "swallow it all down, baby. don't waste a single drop."

with a low, guttural moan, matt let go, his cock pulsing as he shot his load down your throat. the pleasure was intense, almost painful in its intensity, waves of ecstasy crashing over him as he emptied himself into your willing mouth.

he watched, transfixed, as you swallowed around him, your throat working to take every last drop. the sight was erotic beyond words, the knowledge that you were savoring his cum like it was the most delicious thing you'd ever tasted.

finally, as the last spurts of his release subsided, matt gently tugged on your hair, pulling you off his softening cock with string of cum and saliva connected your lips to his tip for a moment before breaking.

"fuck, that was incredible," he breathed, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. "you're a natural at this, baby."

you smiled at his praise, content with how good you were able to make him feel.

"i think you've earned a reward," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "how about you come up here and let me return the favor?"

a/n: guys why did i low key cook… 😭 (also thanks so much for 900 followers, it’s literally insane)

🏷️: @mattslolita @muwapsturniolo @luverboychris @sturnsslut @bigbeefybitch @itsnotmariahh @thenickgirl @thisisntmattsturniolo @sturniyolo69 @luvs4matt @joemamaaa42069 @conspiracy-ash @chrispotatos @watercolorskyy @sturnfannn @emely9274 @strnlslut @jetaimevous @gemzyy @sturn777

​©chaossturns

[karaeilishh]

𝜗𝜚 hate you more b. eilish . . .

"you're fucking driving me crazy" her hand slams next to your head, almost breaking through the cardboard wall with her fist. oh, she was furious. your body is trapped between her and the wall that you wish you could drown in right now, just so you can't be so close to her. her very existence made you want to strangle her while she slept peacefully in her bed. "i hate you, eilish"

she takes a step back, smirking and rubbing her face with dry palms, the eyeliner smearing a little, making her look even more sloppy and sexy. the metal of the cold rings burns your skin too harshly, making you sigh in surprise.

her hand cups your chin, eyes meeting in a hateful gaze, bodies screaming for touch.

"you're such a bitch" you can tell from her face how much she wants to slap you just to impose some discipline on your restless ass. never knew when to stop. "i hate you with every atom in my body"

her lips are on yours too quickly for you to process what's happening. you don't even try to push her away. lips smashing against each other, tongues dancing, a frantic struggle for dominance. her hands are already under your shirt, finding their way to your tits. "i hate you so much"

she repeated this between greedy, passionate kisses until you found yourself on someone's bed. fuck, you didn't even know whose room you were going to fuck in. it was just an animal desire. to show each other hatred, lust, humiliate and hit, and then make each other cum over and over again.

"i will destroy you. you won't remember your fucking name" she growls and growls and rips your tight t-shirt off, revealing a translucent black bra that gives a great view of your tits. her gaze is hungry, inhuman, as she lowers the straps over your shoulders and gives herself full access to your soft skin.

"you're all talk and no action—fuck!" attempt at sarcasm is cut short when her teeth wrap around your nipple. her tongue swirls around the metal barbell of your piercing. she bites and pulls, sucking on the pale skin, leaving marks.

"and all you know how to do is provoke me" her long, wet tongue rests on the pulse point on your neck, causing a strangled sigh to escape your lips. this only gives her the incentive to continue what she's got in mind and never stop until you lose your fucking consciousness.

lips wrap around your neck, sucking on patches of skin harder each time, until there are literally a bunch of hickeys and bites left. you can worry about that later.

“come on, beg me to fuck you.” her tone is mocking, like she’s trying to make you want to kill her even more on purpose.

you instantly switch positions, this time holding billie in your cage. her hair falls across the mattress, giving you a full view of her perfect, smug face. “i never beg, for your information.” hands claw at her arms, slowly moving towards the hem of her shirt. you were sure you had her under control.

“you’ve just never fucked with me.” before you can do anything, her fingers find their way to the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down to your knees. she grabs your neck, forcing you to lean towards her face, you can feel her breath on your lips.

fingers so talented, nimble as she pulls the edge of your underwear aside and collects your wetness with her middle finger. chuckle. "wet sluts like you don't know how to dominate" the whisper is driving you crazy, you're almost ready to admit it. eyes roll to the back of your head as one finger plunges into your needy pussy.

"fuck—" you breathe heavily, almost falling onto her chest because your body instantly became too heavy. "don't you—don’t you dare fucking tease me"

you really hoped your voice would sound at least a little confident.

"so what? the princess will show her teeth?" her lips spread into a playful grin, which you immediately break with your lips, feeling her fingers tug at your hair, just to pull you closer. the taste is intoxicating.

"what a bitch you are, i hate you—" your monologue is interrupted by another finger sticking into your pussy. a dirty moan falls from your lips. you swear you couldn't hold it back. her fingers move at a furious pace, almost tearing you apart from the inside. it's not enough, just not enough.

"more—i need more" you whine into her lips, almost impaling yourself on her fingers when she slows down. an indescribable desire to just fuck yourself on her fingers.

"my—my.. all i give is never enough for you?" she smirks, but obeys, now stretching you out with three fingers. so much, so hard, so rough, so perfect that your moans drown out any words she says. just her fingers. so deep. "insatiable slut"

she rises from the sheets, sitting up on the bed, pushing her fingers further and deeper into you. guttural pornographic moans from the new angle. her hand wraps around your waist, her fingers will probably leave bruises, so sexy.

"not done with you until you beg me to stop. and i won't stop" you almost cry when she says it, your walls tightening around her fingers, your lips finding hers again in a desperate kiss. "so.. so close, fuck."

"wanna cum? don't you hate me so much anymore?" she bites into your neck like a fucking vampire, almost drawing your blood. this contrast between pain and wild pleasure was driving you crazy. your legs were shaking, your breathing was ragged. "damn, i bet no one has ever fucked you this good"

tags - @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxeb, @hopingforgoodblogs, @mybluebossanova

[gtgbabie0]

{Sevika is a little more sensitive then she lets on and you just love to tease her}

Idk tying her up and eating her out ig?

!!-18//MDNI-!! My Masterlist is here <3

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Sevika was the more dominant one in the relationship, she loved to take control and give— to listen to your breaths become all shaky and to watch your pupils dilate with pure wanton desire because of her because she knew your body like the back of her damn hand, it made her feel a sense of pride, the type she could high on.

And you obviously didn’t complain, not when she was so incredibly attentive to every inch of your body in ways no other person was. In all honesty, you couldn’t even form words to say anything other than her name… over and over and over again.

Your mind would be too focused on the feeling of her strap slowly fucking into your wet cunt, from tip to base, the thickness stretching you out. It was always so mind-numbing, intense— the way her thumbs pushed into the fat of your inner thighs to keep them flushed against the mattress as she thrusts her hips, the bedsheets absolutely soaked.

Sevika got off on watching the way your greedy pussy practically swallowed her cock back in, squelching and gripping around the toy and she swears to death she could feel it. She “fucks you how you deserve” and it never fails to make you see stars— whether it was her fingers, tongue her strap.

And yeah the power trip was pretty dizzying but sometimes Sevika just loved to let her guard down and let you take the reins. I mean a girl likes to be wined and dined… and eaten out every so often, right?

She just wasn’t used to all this pampering you showered her with, it was a foreign concept one that she thought she didn’t really deserve— then you go and prove her wrong with that adoring glint in your eyes and a gentle hand against her cheek. “No baby, you deserve all of it. let me love you.” The words are whispered so gently that it makes her chest flutter and suddenly she doesn’t feel like a big tough criminal, no, just a woman madly, madly in love.

And god did you make her feel like the only woman in the world when you kiss your way down her body, hands caressing over the curves over her body, shedding her clothes until you’ve got your pretty face in between her thick thighs— making her head spin as pleasure takes over every thought that plagues her overworked mind.

“Your mouth is fuckin’ sin, baby.” She practically whines, all breathless, hips writhing against the bed— she can’t touch you, because somehow you’ve managed to convince her to let you tie her up with those red ropes… it was killing her but fuck if she didn’t look absolutely stunning.

You moan against her soaked cunt in acknowledgement, spreading her folds open with your tongue as you slowly lick along her labia and up to her clit, which you pepper with slow opened-mouth kisses— her hips bucking up into your mouth, desperate for more.

“Sev… don’t make me tie your hips down too.” You tut, pulling away to look up at her with a small frown— which causes her to whimper in disappointment—your lips and chin glistening with her desire.

The sound of her frustrated huffs puts a smirk on your face, watching as her head falls back against the pillows with a groan as you press your face back into her wet heat.

Her wrists, both metal and flesh, were bound against the headboard by the rough fabric that was far more durable than they looked— she’s tried to free herself multiple times, to bury her fingers in your hair and fuck your face but it was useless, she was at your mercy and in all honesty she loved it.

“Fucking hell— please baby, please” She pleads, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as you press your tongue flat against her clit, licking at her in a way that makes her body twitch.

It wasn’t like you’d been teasing her for hours, you literally not long slipped her boxers off and yet she was acting like you’d been edging her for the last five hours… and you absolutely loved it, knowing that the only thing on her mind was you and your mouth.

“Mm… you want my fingers, yeah?” You coo softly, looking up at her through your eyelashes to gauge her reaction as you continue to lick at her clit.

God she did, all she could get out was a messy string of “Fuck, yeah baby, please.” blabbering on and on, all whiny and desperate— it was a sight to see, the Sevika the most feared woman in Zaun in all her glory spread out on your bed, tied up, whining and moaning just for you.

Then you’re plunging your middle and ring fingers into her slick cunt, thrusting them in tandem with your tongue on her clit— your free hand rubbing over her thigh and along the shape of her writhing hips. The way she moans out your name shoots a tingle down your spine, a familiar throb of need between your legs has you grinding down against the mattress needily.

Sevika is so sensitive, it doesn’t take you much to turn her on and right now she’s soaking your hand— her walls clenching around your digits as she struggles against the ropes binding her wrists, head thrown back against the pillows, arching into you, practically panting.

“So beautiful Sev with my fingers stuffed in your pussy, so greedy.” You smirk against her, adding your index into her just to prove your point, stretching her out, and the rough, broken moan that escapes her parted lips causes a surge of pride to buzz through your chest.

“Don’t hold back baby, you deserve it.” Whispered hotly against her clit as she follows the slow and meticulous curl of your fingers— practically grinding her pussy against your mouth until she’s gushing around your three fingers, drenching your palm whilst your tongue works against her clit.

You work her through it until she’s lying boneless against the pillows with laboured breaths— completely and utterly spent, shuddering slightly as you pull your digits out.

Sevika watches you press a kiss to her inner thigh, then another to her hip— her eyes never leaving you as you kiss your way back up along her body, straddling her lower abdomen as you lick your fingers clean and she can feel how drenched your panties have become, that gets to her and suddenly she's turned on all again.

“Feeling good?” You ask with such sweetness in your tone as if you hadn't just fingered her, leaning over slightly to undo the ropes around her wrists— she chuckles hoarsely in response.

Her hands immediately grasp your hips, feeling up the curves of your soft body greedily— the roughness of her palm sets a blaze to your skin which is cooled down by the metal of her other, all of it makes your spine tingle with need. “Mm, your turn baby.” She smirks, fingers curling around your jaw as she pulls you down against her, your chest pressed to her own. Her heart flutters at the giggle you let out, sweet like honey as she kisses you sloppily, tasting herself on your lips, before pushing you back against the mattress ready to return the favour tenfold…

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[violenteconomics]

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

^

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT V

Word Count so far: 48.5k

Chapters: 6 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers, love triangle

ACT VI.

The crisp winter air nipped at my cheeks as I stepped out of my apartment building, my scarf wrapped snugly around my neck. It was a lazy Sunday, the kind of day where I would’ve normally curled up with a book or caught up on my favorite shows. But today was different. Today, Taehyung had insisted we spend the day together—no work, no drama, just us.

As I adjusted my coat, making sure not to freeze despite the sun outside, I saw him across the street, standing next to a streetlamp. He looked effortlessly handsome in a cream-colored sweater under a beige trench coat, his dark hair slightly tousled by the breeze. His eyes lit up the moment he spotted me, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

In his hands was a small bouquet of flowers—white daisies and pink tulips, delicate and cheerful.

“For you,” he said as I approached, holding the bouquet out with a boyish grin.

“Flowers?” I teased, taking them gently. “Are you trying to win me over?”

He smirked. “Maybe. Is it working?”

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “It’s a good start.”

We began walking down the quiet street, the crunch of our shoes against the pavement mingling with the sounds of the city waking up. A few blocks away, we found our favorite little café, the one with the cozy atmosphere and the best hot chocolate in town.

Taehyung held the door open for me, and we were greeted by the familiar scent of cocoa and cinnamon. The café was warm, a stark contrast to the chilly weather outside.

“Two hot chocolates?” the barista asked with a knowing smile as we approached the counter.

“You know us too well,” Taehyung replied with a soft chuckle. We have been visiting this coffee shop back when we were only college students. This place held memories of us. And I cherished it a lot.

Once our drinks were ready—complete with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cocoa powder—we found a corner booth by the window. The steam from the mugs curled into the air as we sat across from each other, the sunlight streaming in and casting a golden glow over his face.

“So,” he began, his tone playful. “What’s on your mind, Miss Y/N? Besides how devastatingly handsome I am.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my hot chocolate to hide my smile. “I was actually thinking about how certain someone managed to spill wine on my dress last night.”

His expression softened, the teasing replaced by genuine concern. “You handled that so well. I would’ve lost my cool.”

“Well,” I said, swirling my spoon in the whipped cream, “I guess I’ve had enough practice dealing with people like Tina.”

He reached across the table, resting his hand over mine. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You are more badass than you think.”

His words warmed me more than the hot chocolate ever could. "I honestly don't know what I will do without you, Tae. I am grateful to have you in my life." I spoke out, it was the truth, I never expressed my gratefulness but now I did. I wanted him to know that I cherished him. Tae's cheeks flushed.  "I will always be here, Y/N. No matter what." My heart skept a beat. I grinned at him and brough the glass toward my lips as if to hide my blush. "So, what's the deal with your Boss tho?There seems to be tension between him and you. I didn't like how he stole you away from me last night..." I froze. My smile faltered and I cleared my throat. "He is just . . . a bit controlling, that's all." "Controlling? He is possessive of you, Y/N. His eyes are feral when he is around you." My frown deepened and I shook my head. "That's not true. I mean, he did made fun of me and my way of work but that's all. He thrives for perfection." Tae's eyes darkened, he stared at me for a minute longer, before a deep sigh escaped his lips. "I just want you to be self-aware of your surroundings, Y/N." Maybe he was right. Maybe I was too caught up between him and Yoongi to even notice what was happening. I couldn't keep this up. My feelings didn't matter, all that matters is my job and how I do it. An awkward silence stretched between me and Taehyung. We were both lost in thoughts now. Gosh, he shouldn't have mentioned Jungkook. Because with Jungkook there is also Yoongi.

After we finished our drinks, we spent the rest of the day wandering around the city. Taehyung led me to a park we used to visit back when we were teenagers. The trees were bare, their branches dusted with the season’s first frost, but the air was alive with laughter from families and couples enjoying the day.

We stopped by the frozen pond, watching as kids skated in clumsy circles. Taehyung nudged me gently with his shoulder.

“Remember the time I tried to teach you how to skate?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Don’t remind me. I think I fell a dozen times..”

“And I caught you every single time,” he added, a proud smile on his face. He was the cutest with how he smiled, it was like stars appeared in his eyes everytime he did.

We walked on, stopping occasionally to take in the sights or to snap a picture. At one point, we found a street musician playing a soulful tune on his guitar. Taehyung pulled me to the side, bowing dramatically.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, his voice dripping with charm.

“Here? In the middle of the park?” I asked, laughing nervously.

“Why not?” He took my hand before I could protest, spinning me gently in a slow circle.

People passed by, some smiling at the sight of us, but I didn’t care. For a moment, it felt like the rest of the world had disappeared, leaving just the two of us.

By the time the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, we found ourselves sitting on a bench overlooking the river. Taehyung wrapped his scarf around my neck, ignoring my protests that I was fine.

“I don’t want you catching a cold,” he said, tucking the ends neatly under my coat.

“Thanks, Dad,” I teased, but the truth was, I didn’t mind. He was caring by nature, and maybe to be cared for felt good...

As the day came to an end, I realized how much I needed this. No work, no stress, no complicated feelings about Yoongi or Jungkook—just a simple, perfect day with Taehyung..

“Still cold?” he asked, noticing my movements.

“Not really,” I admitted. “This scarf is ridiculously warm.”

He smiled, his hands shoved casually into his pockets. “It’s because it’s mine. Everything I own is top-tier.”

I nudged him with my elbow, grinning. “Oh, please. That’s the most Taehyung thing you’ve said all day.”

He laughed, the sound light and easy, and I couldn’t help but smile wider. There was something about him—his energy, his warmth—that made everything feel okay, even after the chaos of last night.

As we turned the corner onto my street, he slowed his pace.

“You know,” he began, his tone softer now, “I really enjoyed today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you so relaxed.”

“I guess I needed it,” I replied, glancing up at him. “Just a perfect day with an old friend.”

“Old friend?” he repeated, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know I’m as youthful as ever. If anything, I’ve only gotten better with age.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

I didn’t respond, but the way my cheeks warmed betrayed me.

When we reached my building, we stopped just outside the entrance. The soft hum of the city buzzed in the background as we turned to face each other.

“Well,” I said, clutching the bouquet of flowers he’d given me earlier, “thanks for today. Really.”

“Anytime,” he said, his voice gentle. “I mean it. If you ever need to escape, just call me. I’ll be there.”

For a moment, neither of us said anything. The streetlight above cast a faint glow on his face, highlighting the sincerity in his eyes.

“You’re a good friend, Tae,” I said softly, though the words felt heavier than they should have.

His smile faltered for a fraction of a second, but he recovered quickly, his expression warm and playful again. “Only a good friend? I’ll have to work on upgrading that title.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Goodnight, Taehyung.”

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replied, his voice low and filled with something unspoken.

I turned to unlock the door to my building, but before I could step inside, I heard him call my name.

I turned back, and there he was, standing a few feet away, his hands still in his pockets. “Don’t forget to put those flowers in water,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face.

“I won’t,�� I promised, holding up the bouquet.

And with that, he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the quiet night. I stood there for a moment, watching him go, the warmth from the day still lingering in my chest.

As I finally stepped inside, I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Today had been perfect—simple, sweet, and exactly what I needed. 

-

The scene outside the company building was unlike anything I’d ever seen. Reporters shouted over each other, their cameras flashing relentlessly as they aimed toward the entrance. Police cars were parked haphazardly along the curb, their lights casting ominous blue and red hues against the surrounding buildings.

My heart sank as I tried to push through the crowd, clutching my bag tightly. The questions flying through the air were disjointed but enough to spark unease in my chest.

“Is it true Jeon Enterprises is under investigation?” “CEO Jeon Jungkook has yet to make a statement—” "Is there a suspect already?"

I forced myself to block out the noise, stepping up to the security guard at the entrance. My heart was thumping fast and loud in my chest. This entire atmosphere looked like a crime series. I had no idea what happened but whatever it was, it was serious.

“I work here,” I said, fumbling with my badge. My hands shook slightly, and I hated how obvious it was.

The tall bulky guard dressed in a black suit squinted at my badge, then gave me a short nod. “Go ahead.”

His words did nothing to calm me as I entered the building, the usual hum of productivity replaced by frantic whispers and hurried footsteps. Police officers roamed the lobby, speaking into radios, while employees stood in clusters, their faces pale with shock.

What on earth happened?

I hurried toward the elevator, my pulse quickening with every step. The ride up to our floor felt like an eternity, and when the doors opened, the sight made my stomach churn.

Officers were everywhere, combing through desks and confiscating files. The normally pristine office space was in disarray, papers scattered and voices raised in hushed tones.

“Y/N!”

I turned to see Rya approaching me, her expression frantic. I could see the paleness on her face, she was definitely shocked and panicked.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rya glanced around before pulling me aside, her grip on my arm tight. “Tina... she’s dead.”

I froze, her words not registering at first. “What?”

“They found her body last night at her apartment,” Rya said, her voice shaking. “And the last person who was seen with her was Jungkook. Police came and took him with them twenty minutes ago. They treated him like a suspect!”

The air seemed to leave my lungs. My mind raced as I tried to piece together what she was saying. Tina? Dead? And Jungkook?

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That doesn’t make any sense. Jungkook wouldn’t—”

“I know,” Rya interrupted, her voice urgent. “But the police don’t care about what we think. And the media is having a field day with it. They are also got a search order to see if they can find any clue on what happened, Jungkook's office is a raided mess. Cops took everything.”

I glanced around the chaotic office, my chest tightening. Jungkook wasn’t just my boss; he was someone I had come to respect despite our rocky start. The idea that he could be involved in something like this was incomprehensible.

Rya’s hand hovered over the remote as the reporter’s voice filled the tense air of the office.

“Breaking news this morning,” the reporter began, her tone grave. “Authorities have confirmed the discovery of a deceased individual late last night at their apartment. The victim has been identified as an employee of Jeon Enterprises and was last seen attending the high-profile masquerade ball hosted by MNT Media just days ago.”

Rya and I exchanged a glance, our breaths caught in the shared silence. The weight of the words was crushing, and my mind raced to process what I already knew.

“Last seen at the ball...” Rya whispered, her voice barely audible, but I caught the way her hands trembled as she gripped the remote.

I swallowed hard, fighting the knot forming in my throat. 

The broadcast continued, showing images of the ball—the glittering chandeliers, the elegant gowns, the masked faces. And then it switched to a live shot of an apartment building cordoned off with police tape, officers moving in and out under the glow of harsh floodlights.

“Sources close to the investigation report signs of foul play, though no official suspects have been named. Jeon Jungkook, CEO of Jeon Enterprises, has been confirmed to have been the last one who saw the victim alive, and authorities have expressed interest in speaking with him.”

“Damn it,” Rya muttered, her voice cracking slightly. 

I didn’t answer, the words sticking to the back of my throat. We both knew it was. There was no need to say it out loud.

Instead, I fixed my gaze on the screen, where the reporter was now recounting snippets. “The victim was known to be a driven and outspoken employee, with significant professional ties and ongoing disputes that may have played a role in the events leading up to their death.”

"Y/N... this is bad. Really bad. The board is already panicking, and if this gets any worse, it could take down the entire company.”

I felt like the floor was tilting beneath me, the weight of the situation pressing down on my shoulders.

“I need to find Yoongi,” I muttered, my voice steadier than I felt.

“Yoongi?” Rya frowned.

“He’ll know what to do,” I said, more to convince myself than her. “He always does.”

Without waiting for her response, I turned and started toward his office, my mind a whirlwind of fear, confusion, and determination. Whatever was happening, I needed answers—and fast.

His free hand clenched into a fist at his side. “I don’t care what strings you have to pull—just do it.”

He ended the call abruptly, exhaling sharply before he turned, noticing me standing hesitantly behind him. His expression softened slightly, though the strain in his features remained.

“It’s a mess,” he admitted, his tone heavy. “As you already know, Tina was found in her apartment late last night. She has been shot in the head.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of his words sinking in. Shot in the head? What kind of an animal would do that to her?! Surely, Tina was not one of the best people, she was selfish and her ego reached the skies, but not even once did I wish her death. “And Jungkook? Why are they linking him to this?”

Yoongi’s gaze flicked to the side, conflicted. “He was seen leaving her building around the time they estimate it happened. There’s footage from a security camera, but it doesn’t show much. Just him walking out.”

“That doesn’t mean he did anything,” I said quickly, feeling a surge of defensiveness I didn’t expect.

“I know,” Yoongi said, his voice firm. “But right now, appearances are everything. The media doesn’t care about proof—they just want a story. And Tina being...” He hesitated, his expression darkening. “Well, let’s just say she didn’t make herself any friends around here. People are talking, and not in Jungkook’s favor.”

I was trying to process everything. Tina’s death. Jungkook being questioned. The chaos in the office. It felt like the ground beneath me was shifting, and I couldn’t find my footing.

“Do you think he did it?” I asked quietly, almost afraid of his answer.

Yoongi met my gaze, his dark eyes steady. “No,” he said firmly. “I’ve known Jungkook long enough to say that he’s not capable of something like this. But whether he did or didn’t isn’t the issue right now. It’s about what people believe.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest.

“What do we do?” I asked, desperate for some kind of direction.

Yoongi sighed, “For now, we wait. The lawyers are working on getting him released, but until then, we need to keep things from spiraling. The company is already under enough scrutiny.”

I nodded, though it felt like a hollow gesture. Waiting wasn’t exactly my strong suit, especially not when someone I cared about was at the center of it all.

“What about us?” I asked hesitantly. “What can I do to help?”

Yoongi’s gaze softened, and for a moment, the weight he carried seemed to lift just slightly.

“Just stay out of the crossfire, Y/N,” he said gently. “You’ve already been through enough. Let me handle this.”

I bristled slightly at his words, not because I didn’t appreciate his concern, but because I hated feeling powerless.

“Yoongi,” I said firmly, standing. “I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while everything falls apart. If there’s anything I can do—anything—just tell me.”

He studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable, before he finally nodded.

After leaving Yoongi’s office, I couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on me. Tina’s death had sent shockwaves through the entire company, and though I’d never liked her—she’d been awful to me more times than I could count—this wasn’t what she deserved.

The thought of her lifeless and alone in her apartment was too much. No matter how cruel she’d been, she was still a person, someone with her own struggles and stories I’d never known. She was still someone's daughter, sister, cousin. . .

I needed to talk to someone.

I found Hoseok and Rya in the break room, sitting at one of the tables near the window. Both of them looked tense, their earlier easy smiles replaced with furrowed brows and quiet whispers.

“Hey,” I said softly as I approached. They looked up, and Rya immediately slid over to make room for me.

“Y/N,” Hoseok said, his tone heavy. “How are you holding up?”

I sat down, clasping my hands together to stop them from trembling. “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “This whole thing with Tina... it doesn’t feel real. I know we didn’t get along, but...” I trailed off, unsure how to put the jumble of emotions into words.

“She was a nightmare,” Rya said bluntly, though her voice lacked its usual bite. “But I never thought... this. I mean, she could be petty and cruel, but murder?”

Hoseok frowned, leaning forward. “Nobody deserves that,” he said quietly. “Not even Tina. She could be terrible, sure, but she was still a person.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the three of us lost in our own thoughts.

“I keep thinking about the last time I saw her,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “At the ball. She seemed so... smug. Like she was on top of the world. And now, she’s gone.”

Rya crossed her arms, looking conflicted. “Do you think someone here could’ve done it? I mean, everyone knew she had enemies, but this is... extreme.”

Hoseok shook his head. “I don’t want to believe it, but with the police here, searching the office...” He trailed off, his expression darkening. “It’s hard not to wonder.”

“And Jungkook?” Rya asked, looking at me. “Do you think he’s involved?”

“No,” I said firmly, surprising even myself with the conviction in my voice. “I don’t. He might be cold and distant sometimes, but he’s not a killer. He’s... he’s better than that.”

Hoseok and Rya exchanged a glance, but neither argued.

“What happens now?” Rya asked after a moment. “If Jungkook is being investigated, what does that mean for the company? For us?”

I shook my head, feeling the weight of uncertainty settle over me again. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “But I think we need to stick together. Now more than ever.”

They both nodded, and for the first time in a long while, I felt a glimmer of solidarity between us.

As the three of us sat there, piecing together what little we knew, I couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something much bigger—and much darker—than any of us could imagine.

-

The morning was gray and oppressive, the atmosphere at Jeon Enterprises thick with unease. I was called to help clear out Tina’s desk under police supervision, a task I didn’t relish but couldn’t refuse. The sight of her empty chair sent a chill through me. Tina had been vile, no doubt about it, but to think she was gone—and in such a horrific way—made my stomach turn.

The desk was surprisingly tidy for someone as chaotic as Tina. Neat stacks of papers, pristine stationery, and a drawer full of color-coded folders. Yet as I sifted through the surface level, something felt off. It was too perfect, almost staged.

A detective stood nearby, arms crossed as he observed. “Anything that seems unusual, set it aside,” he said flatly.

Unusual? Where did I even start? Tina herself was a cocktail of ambition and cruelty, a persona that could fill a thousand file folders with secrets. As I reached into the bottom drawer, my fingers brushed against something that didn’t feel like an office supply. It was wedged under a stack of legal pads—a worn, leather-bound journal.

I glanced at the detective, who was momentarily distracted by another officer. With a quick, furtive motion, I slipped the journal into my bag. I told myself I’d hand it over eventually, but something about it called to me. A gut feeling. Tina had gone out of her way to hide this. Why?

Once I got home that evening, I pulled the journal out and set it on my kitchen table. The leather was cracked and faded, the corners worn down like it had been carried around for years. When I opened it, the faint scent of Tina’s signature perfume wafted up, mingled with something darker—ink and secrecy.

The first few pages were mundane. Meeting notes, to-do lists, sketches of presentation layouts. But as I flipped further, the tone shifted. The handwriting became erratic, the words slanting across the page with a kind of manic energy.

November 3: Another meeting with K. Promises, promises. Does he think I’m stupid? I’ll take what’s mine before he screws me over.

November 12: Y/N is such a naive little thing. Too easy to push around. If only she knew how far out of her depth she is. Pathetic.

I recoiled at the venom in her words. My name was scrawled there like a curse, surrounded by complaints about nearly everyone in the office. Tina hadn’t just disliked people—she’d despised them.

And then there were the cryptic entries:

December 1: The deal is in place. If K tries to back out, he’ll regret it.

December 15: I’m not playing games anymore. If they think they can silence me, they’re dead wrong.

The entries stopped abruptly a week before her death. My fingers trembled as I turned the pages, my heart pounding in my chest. Who was “K”? What deal? And what had Tina meant by “silence”?

Before I could dive further, my phone buzzed. The name on the screen made my blood run cold: Richard Delgrassi. My father’s old associate. 

“Mr. Delgrassi? How did you find my number?” I said cautiously, picking up the call.

“I called your father, wanted to check up on you.” his voice was smooth, but there was an edge to it, like a blade sheathed in silk. “Are you okay? I heard about your co-worker Tina.”

I swallowed thickly, deep sigh escaped my lips. "I am fine, sir. It just . . . shocked us all."

“I am really sorry to hear that, if you need anything, please let me know. If you want to leave the company and start somewhere fresh, I will help you out." Leave. Why would I want to leave? I hummed. "Of course, sir, I will let you know." I heard him shuffle on the other side of the line. "What about Jungkook, I heard he is at the police station for questioning." I started pacing back and forth, "Well, right now we don't have much information on what happens next, but hopefully police would release him soon." "I hope so too." he spoke but something in his voice didn't feel sincere. "Alright, I just wanted to check up on you. Know you have someone you can count on." "Thank you, sir..."

The line went dead before I could ask anything else. I stared at the phone, my heart hammering in my chest. 

I glanced back at the journal, its leather cover now looking more sinister than mysterious. Whatever Tina had been involved in, it wasn’t just office politics. It was something far darker, and I was smack in the middle of it.

-

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I stood in front of the police station, staring at the cold, gray walls. It didn’t feel real—none of it did. My mind kept replaying the moment I heard the news: Tina, my manager, was dead. Murdered. And Jungkook, the CEO of the company I’d worked for, was the prime suspect unofficially.

The shock of it had hit me hard. Tina’s death had left a void in our office, and the fact that Jungkook, the man I already thought I knew so well, was now behind bars... it shattered everything.

I took a deep breath before walking through the sterile halls of the station. The fluorescent lights buzzed above me, making the air feel thick and oppressive. I passed the front desk, where the officers barely acknowledged me and suddenly bumped into someone.

The impact jolted me slightly, and I looked up to find Yoongi standing there, his dark eyes sharp and unreadable as ever. He sighed heavily, as if seeing me here was the last thing he needed.

“What the hell are you doing here, Y/N?” he asked, his tone low but laced with irritation.

I straightened my posture, refusing to let him intimidate me. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m here to see Jungkook.”

Yoongi crossed his arms, his expression hardening. “You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your fight, and it’s definitely not safe.”

“Not safe?” I scoffed, keeping my voice low so the officers milling about wouldn’t overhear. “I work at the same company, Yoongi. Tina was my manager too, in case you forgot. This affects all of us, not just you.”

He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “That’s exactly why you need to stay out of it. Let the police handle this. Do you even realize how messy this is going to get?”

I glared at him, my frustration boiling over. “Messy or not, I have a right to know what’s going on. Jungkook isn’t just some random CEO. He’s—”

“He’s what?” Yoongi cut in, his tone sharp. “Your boss? Your friend? Someone you think you can trust? Newsflash, Y/N: trust doesn’t mean a damn thing right now.”

I felt the sting of his words but refused to back down. “You’re unbelievable,” I shot back. “You act like you’re the only one allowed to care about what’s happening.”

Yoongi ran a hand through his messy long hair, his jaw tight. I could notice he has been sleep deprived too, the dark circles under his eyes screamed tiredness. “I care because I know what’s at stake. And you showing up here, trying to play detective, is only going to make things worse.”

I stepped closer, narrowing the gap between us. “Then why are you here, Yoongi? If you think it’s so dangerous, why aren’t you staying out of it?”

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. I saw his eyes darken and he took a sharp breath through his nose, hands now resting on his hips. "Fucking hell, why are you so stubborn?" "Maybe I am good at annoying the hell out of you." His eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything. There was a silence stretching between us before he finally turned around and headed down the hallway.

“Fine,” he muttered over his shoulder. “If you’re so hell-bent on getting involved, follow me. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

We made our way to the interrogation room, where Jungkook was being held. My heart felt like it was lodged in my throat as we approached the small, glass-walled room. Jungkook sat inside, his hands folded on the metal table in front of him. He looked tired, his usually sharp features drawn and pale.

The officer standing outside the door nodded at Yoongi, allowing us in. I hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, the air thick with tension.

Jungkook glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine briefly before shifting to Yoongi.

“Didn’t expect visitors,” he said, his voice low and rough.

Yoongi pulled out a chair and sat down, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “We’re not here to chat. What’s going on, Jungkook?”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze flickering between the two of us. “You tell me. One minute, I’m at the office; the next, I’m hauled in here like a criminal.”

“Did you know Tina was dead?” I asked, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to stay composed.

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t answer. “I didn’t kill her, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Then why are you here?” Yoongi pressed, his tone firm.

Jungkook let out a bitter laugh. “Because someone saw me with her at the ball, and apparently, that’s enough to make me the prime suspect. Never mind that half the company was there."

I glanced at Yoongi, who didn’t break his stare. “And what about Tina? Did she say anything to you that night? Act strange? Mention something... off?”

Jungkook’s expression darkened. “She didn’t say much of anything to me. She was too busy playing her games, like always. I told everything to the police but they still keep me in this godforsaken hole.”

“Games?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Y/N, you know fully well how she was,” Jungkook said, his voice bitter. “Testing people's limits, making sure everyone knew she had the upper hand. But I didn’t play along, and maybe that pissed her off. Who knows?”

Yoongi tapped his fingers against the table, his gaze never leaving Jungkook. “You need to give us more than that. If you want us to help you, we need something concrete.”

Jungkook’s eyebrow raised, he was shifting his eyes from me and Yoongi. I looked away, avoiding his gaze. “Help me? Since when are you two playing detectives?”

I rolled my eyes. "We are trying to help you out." I snapped and Jungkook shifted in his seat, letting out a deep sigh of defeat.

The tension in the room thickened, and I felt a pang of guilt watching Jungkook sitting there, defiant but vulnerable. I glanced at Yoongi, his steely demeanor unwavering as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed.

"Do you know for how long you will be captive here?" I finally asked. Jungkook shrugged. "No idea, until they find an evidence that the killer was not me." "What happens to the comapny now?" I pressed, "is it gonna shut down?" "I will take over." Yoongi muttered, "for the time being, until Jungkook gets released." I frowned glancing at Jungkook who hummed, I guess they managed to talk this through.  "Fine, we will keep digging and see what we will find."  "We?" My Boss frowned, "Y/N, I don't want you to get involved in this." "See?!Told her the same thingg, she doesn't listen." "Stop blabbing about the same things, I want in and I want to help. You two, adult men, act like kids. Jungkook, your situation here is not colorful at all. The quicker we get you out, the quick it would be your name to be cleared in front of the media." -

The sharp chill of the late evening air greeted us as we stepped out of the police station. I pulled my coat tighter around myself, my mind still racing with everything that had just transpired. Jungkook’s face, a mixture of frustration and vulnerability, was etched in my memory.

“I’ll call a cab,” I muttered, fishing my phone out of my bag.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, stepping toward the parking lot. “Don’t bother. I’ll drive you.”

I stopped mid-dial and turned to him. “No offense, but I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

His expression didn’t change, but there was an edge of impatience in his voice. “Why? Because I’m not the most charming chauffeur? Or are you still mad at me for that club thing-y?”

“Neither,” I said quickly, my tone defensive. “It’s just... I don’t need you to babysit me, Yoongi. I can take care of myself.”

“Clearly,” he said dryly, gesturing to my phone. “And you’ll do that by waiting alone outside a police station at night for a cab? Genius plan.”

I opened my mouth to argue but stopped when I realized how ridiculous it would sound. With a resigned sigh, I slid my phone back into my bag. “Fine. But no commentary while you drive.”

“Deal,” he said with a small smirk, leading the way to his car.

The ride started in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound between us. Yoongi’s driving was calm and efficient, and for some reason, it annoyed me that he didn’t seem as rattled by everything as I was.

“Yesterday,” I began, breaking the silence, “when I was cleaning out Tina’s desk... I found something.”

He glanced at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “The journal.”

I blinked, surprised. “How did you—”

"Do you think I am that stupid?"  There was silence, he narrowed his eyes, "don't even answer this, Y/N." I chuckled at that and shrugged my shoulders. "I saw you take a suspicious looking book off Tina's desk without the police looking so..." "I figured that it's better to find who did it first with a solid evidence, before turning it to the police." I hesitated but continued, “It’s... disturbing. Tina wrote about people she hated—colleagues, clients, even... me.”

Yoongi didn’t react visibly, but I caught his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.

“She was ruthless,” I continued. “Manipulating people, sabotaging careers—it’s all in there. And then there are these cryptic entries about a ‘deal.’ She doesn’t say who it was with, but it’s obvious it was risky. She mentioned being scared, like she knew it might backfire.”

Yoongi’s jaw clenched. “And now she’s dead.”

I swallowed hard, the reality of it hitting me again. “Yeah. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence. Someone she crossed or someone involved in that deal... they might have wanted her gone.”

“You said the police don’t know about it yet?” he asked, his voice tense.

“No,” I admitted. “I didn’t trust them to handle it the right way, especially with the way they’re already treating Jungkook.”

“Smart,” Yoongi said, nodding approvingly. “But if that journal is as explosive as you say, keeping it quiet might put you in danger.”

I bit my lip, anxiety bubbling in my chest. “I know. But what choice do I have? If it can help clear Jungkook’s name, I can’t just ignore it.”

Yoongi pulled into a quieter street, the streetlights casting long shadows over the car. He turned to me, his dark eyes serious. “You’re not doing this alone, Y/N. Whatever’s in that journal, we’re going to figure it out together.”

For a moment, his words surprised me. Despite his often aloof demeanor, there was an unexpected warmth in his voice.

“Thank you,” I said quietly, meaning it.

He nodded once and turned his attention back to the road, the rest of the drive passing in contemplative silence.

When we finally reached my place, he parked at the curb and leaned back in his seat. “Keep the journal close. Don’t let anyone else see it for now.”

“I won’t,” I assured him, opening the door.

As I stepped out, he called after me, “And Y/N?”

I paused, turning back.

“Be careful,” he said, his expression unreadable in the dim light.

I nodded, clutching my bag tightly as I headed up to my apartment, the weight of the journal—and everything it represented—feeling heavier than ever.

[worldbeyondtheworld]

Both the Princess and the Long Quiet are trapped in an abusive situation under the Narrator. He has created an intentional power difference between her and him, and shows preferential treatment of the latter over the other.

He uses the Long Quiet to do his dirty work. He gives him incomplete information about her so that he supposedly will treat her in a specific way he wants him to. He also, conditionally, praises him as somebody valuable - a Hero - and demonizes the Princess. He uses the Long Quiet as an extension of himself and his abuse of the Princess, because he can't directly affect her.

If he refuses to do the Narrator's bidding, he withdraws his praise, insults, gaslights and guilts, and tries to manipulate him in many more ways so that he'll act in the ways he wants him to.

Because of his position, he's much more likely to repeat the patterns of abuse because of fear / desire for / feeling entitled to absolute control after having a taste of it.

He can also break the pattern because he realizes the Princess is just as trapped as him, and that he wants to be kind, to be better.

The Narrator has trapped and isolated (and abandoned) the Princess without her knowledge from a distance. She has no idea who she is because she never had the chance to maker her own experience, and doesn't know where she is or why, or why she's alone.

He implicitely has left her surroundings hostile to her, telling her that she's at fault for her imprisonment. He uses another person to torment and abuse her. The same person is also her only chance to be free, and the only person who can understand her, because he's trapped in the same prison.

She's more likely to make the best out of a horrible situation. She can also try to control him, and / or become (understandably) cruel at her treatment by him and lash out. Sometimes out of proportion to the hurt against her because he's the only person present and she doesn't have healthy outlets.

Slay the Princess is a love story. It's also a story of two people in different positions of the same abusive situation, pitted against each other, and how they react to that. How they start and how they are treated shape their potential reactions.

[hearts4werka]

Partyboy!chris making out with drug dealer!reader on the hood of his car

Partyboy!chris x drug dealer!reader

nsfw content ahead - the title says it all | wc -

English is not my first language, enjoy!

Requested by @/strnilolover

I lean against the cold black hood of Chris’s car, a rolled blunt sitting snuggly between my lips as I take a drag out of it and let the feeling of high and ecstasy wash over my body as he comes up next to me, his lingering eyes scanning over me before landing on the blunt sitting between my lips, a hand slowly creeps up to rest in the small of my back as we both observe the scenery in front of us. Chris took me on some surprise trip and now we’re on a cliff side at sunrise, the sun slowly rising above the horizon and casting a golden hue over the land, it feels like a scene taken out of a cheesy movie where the guy confessed their love to the girl and they share a passionate kiss, but only Chris —being the guy— already did so.

“Why are we here?” I ask, blowing out the smoke out of my mouth while my eyes glance between him and the scenery in front of us, he chuckles before taking the blunt from my hand and placing it between his lips, taking a long drag as he pulls me closer to his side. “That’s all you’re gonna say? You really are that predictable.” He teases, but I could catch that hint of seriousness in his voice at which I give a chuckle back. "I may be predictable but at least I'm not as boring as your life, sweetheart." I bite back teasingly, taking the blunt away from him and shooting him a small glance, he scoffs jokingly and looks down at me. “Damn, ma’. That was ice cold.” He says with a fake offended tone while I finish the blunt, throwing it aside into the closest random bush. “Oh are you gonna cry now?” I tease him further, feeling more cocky by the moment as he steps to stand in front of me, his hands falling down to grab ahold of my hips and pull them flush against his own.

“No, but now you’re gonna have to pay up for what you said, I’m not lettin’ you off scot free with a smart mouth like that.” He replies, equally as teasing as my tone while my arms on default wrap around his neck, one of his hands leaving the grip on my hip and tilting my head back to have a better look down at my face. “Such a pretty little girl but with such a dirty mouth, it’s gonna get you in trouble one day if you don’t watch out,” He murmured before his lips land on mine, capturing them into a passionate kiss which slowly transforms more hungry and rough, the mix of drugs and alcohol spread across my tongue as he slips his tongue inside of my mouth. One of my hands leave his neck to prop myself up from falling over as he pushes me onto the hood of the car, his hands finding his was to grasp my ass and lift me up to place me on top of the car, I giggled into the kiss as we continue the heated kiss. My hand creeping up to tug at his brown locks to pull him closer to me, as close as he could possibly get but don’t let myself get lost completely in the desire and lust, just to keep everything under control and to not loose it but it’s sooo tempting to just give in right now…

The kiss felt rough and hungry, but also passionate and gentle at the same time, the taste of drugs and alcohol still lingered inside of my mouth sitting right on my taste buds as the hot make out session comes to an unfortunate end, soft pants leave both of our mouths and mix together with each other. A smirk spreads across my face as I admire his sharp and bold features from up close until I decide to break the drowning silence. “Well, if this would be the trouble I would get into then I don’t think I mind it that much.” I tilt my head to the side softly as my eyes look deeply into his, the tension and hot air surrounding us before his lips attach to the exposed skin of my neck, planting soft kisses along the length of it. “You wouldn’t mind if I did this then?” He teases, murmuring against the soft skin before going back to planting kisses on my neck, starting to softly suck on the flesh and leave slight marks behind his trail, my head tilts back almost as if it’s doing it automatically which emerges a chuckle out of Chris as he murmurs against my skin. “Already doin’ so good f’me ma, hm?”

— 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐃 📝 : sorry if this is short but I just wanted to write a little something for yall so you don’t get bored while waiting for the next chapter of sotus, I’m not really that well at writing smut but I’m trying so yall bare with me for now 🙏 they’ll be more coming in the future tho and I hope y’all enjoyed this

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | @sturnsxplr-25 @luvvs4chriss @sturniolosweets @pussypie456 @choclatestarfishwithahat @venusxsturnio @bagsbyclair0 @sturnstvs @dykes4chris @mattsbrat @hoe4matt @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @marrykisskilled @phone4pills @emely9274 @cupiidk1lls @lily-strnlo @st9rniolo @sturniolosiphone @sophand4n4 @zombiesturniolo @luvleyangeldust @owensbabygirl @sturnina-deactivated20241223 @leoslaboratory @ifwdominicfike @kiemiu @lovergirl4gracieabrams @colorthecosmos444 @trevorsgodmother |

[shiftthemoon]

reality shifting isn’t hard. you’ve been told it’s hard because everyone’s too scared to admit it’s not. they cling to their 800-step methods, their must-have crystals, their perfect conditions because they think that if they let go of that control, they’ll fail. but here’s the thing: the more you try to control the process, the more you convince yourself it’s out of your control. and that’s the problem. that’s why so many people feel stuck. shifting isn’t some big, far-fetched thing. it’s just you. it’s always been you.

we’re conditioned to think we’re powerless. think about it—school, work, society, all of it drills this idea into us that everything has to be proven, earned, validated. so, when you hear about shifting, your brain freaks out and says, wait, wait, this is too easy, this can’t be real. and then you spiral. you overcomplicate it. you make yourself think you need the “perfect” script, the “right” subliminal, or that you have to meditate for three hours while the stars align perfectly. like, no… you don’t. all of that? it’s fluff. it’s noise.

at its core, shifting is belief. just belief. no, really, let that sink in. you don’t need to “do” belief perfectly. it’s not something you master through sheer willpower. it’s something you already have. you’ve believed in things your whole life. you believed in gravity without needing proof. you believe your favorite songs are beautiful without needing to explain why. belief is natural. it’s effortless when you stop overthinking it. that’s the energy you need to bring to shifting—trust. trust that your mind knows what it’s doing, and that if you let it, it will take you there. every single extra thing you pile on? the overthinking, the doubt, the need for guarantees? that’s what’s slowing you down. not the “lack of progress,” not some mythical “block”—it’s you convincing yourself it’s harder than it is.

and let’s talk about social media for a second. oh my god, the shifting community on social media… i get it. it’s comforting to see other people on this journey. but let’s be honest—how much of that content is actually helping you? like, really? 90% of the time, scrolling through shifting advice isn’t inspiring; it’s overwhelming. everyone’s got their own opinions, their own “best methods,” their own rules. one person says scripting is a must, another says it’s a waste of time. one person swears by affirmations, another says visualization is the only way. and before you know it, you’re sitting there questioning everything you thought you knew, wondering if you’ll ever get it “right.” spoiler alert: you already know how to shift. you don’t need a thousand voices telling you what to do. in fact, the more you listen to them, the harder it becomes to hear yourself.

take a break. seriously. log off the apps. give yourself space to breathe and think. ask yourself: why do i want to shift? what’s stopping me? what feels right to me? no tiktok trend, youtube guide, or reddit post can answer those questions for you. only you can. and i know that sounds scary. we’ve been conditioned to think we need external validation for everything, but shifting is a deeply personal thing. you don’t need a step-by-step tutorial. you need to trust your instincts. that’s it.

and let me be clear: i’m not saying methods or subliminals are bad. they’re fine if they help you feel aligned. but they’re not what makes shifting happen. you are. methods are just tools. if you use them, great. if you don’t, that’s great too. because the truth is, shifting isn’t about doing things “right.” it’s about letting go of the idea that you need to.

so let me break it down for you. the only things you really need to shift are:

1. a desire. you have to want to go to your desired reality. no brainer, right?

2. belief. this is the big one. you have to trust it’s possible. no “what ifs,” no “but hows.” just trust.

3. persistence. if it doesn’t happen right away, that’s okay. don’t give up. if you’ve ever learned to ride a bike, you know that falling doesn’t mean you can’t do it—it just means you’re learning. shifting is the same.

that’s it. no fancy rituals, no endless research, no “perfect” conditions. the process is simple because it’s natural. you’ve probably done it before without even realizing it— the only reason it feels hard now is because you’ve convinced yourself it has to be.

stop making it harder than it needs to be. shifting isn’t this unattainable, mystical thing reserved for “chosen ones.” it’s something anyone can do. you can do it. your mom can do it. that anti-shifter lurking in every crevice of shiftblr could do it. you’ve always been capable. but you have to stop getting in your own way. stop doubting yourself. stop relying on others to tell you what’s possible. this is your journey. own it.

and above all, be patient. shifting is not a race. it’s not about how fast you can get there or how perfect your dr is. it’s about trust, intention, and focus. log off, tune into yourself, and let it happen. shifting has always been yours to claim. it’s not something you need permission for. it’s not something you need to earn. it’s just you, your mind, and your belief. always has been, always will be.

[woozinhos]

hi baby u n ur blog r literally the cutest u seem like the sweetest person ever! keep up the good work bc ur writing is lovely 🩷🩷✨✨🎀

may I ever so respectfully request soft + encouraging overstimulation with shua using a vibrator 😵‍💫😣

thank u lovie hugs n kisses 🎀✨

anon I actually love you so much thank you so so much I really appreciate I went for this one Joshua giving but if you’d like him receiving feel free to request again hehe <3

You were already on your second orgasm, your body trembling and oversensitive from the pleasure.

Joshua had you pinned against the bed, his fingers holding the vibrator against your clit as he worked to bring you to another peak.

Your legs were shaking uncontrollably, your toes curling into the sheets as you struggled to hold on.

Joshua's eyes were fixed on your face, watching every little expression of pleasure that crossed your features.

"You're doing so good, baby," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "Just one more, okay?"

You nodded, your breath coming out in short gasps as you tried to form words.

"I-I can't..." you panted, your body overwhelmed by the pleasure. "It's too much..."

Joshua smiled softly, his fingers adjusting the vibrator to a slightly higher setting.

"Yes you can," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "I know you can do it. You're so strong, baby."

The increased vibrations sent shockwaves through your body, making your back arch off the bed as you let out a desperate cry.

Joshua's other hand moved to hold your hip, keeping you pinned in place as he continued to work the vibrator against your clit.

"That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, his eyes dark with desire. "Just let go and cum for me."

You felt yourself teetering on the edge once again, your body tensing up in anticipation of your third orgasm.

Joshua could tell you were close, his fingers moving faster as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.

"Come on, baby," he urged, his voice low and commanding. "Cum for me. I want to see you fall apart again."

You couldn't hold back any longer.

With a scream of his name, you tumbled over the edge once more, your body shaking violently as waves of pleasure washed over you.

Joshua held the vibrator against you, prolonging your orgasm for as long as possible.

He watched you with a mix of awe and adoration, his own desire evident in his eyes.

Even after you had finished, Joshua didn't stop.

He kept the vibrator against your oversensitive clit, relentlessly stimulating you even as your body trembled from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

"J-Joshua, I can't..." you whimpered, your voice weak and hoarse. "It's too much, please..."

"You can handle it," he said firmly, his eyes dark with determination. "I know you can take more, baby. You're being so good for me."

He increased the pressure of the vibrator, his fingers moving in tight circles against your clit.

Your body responded instinctively, despite your protests. Your hips bucked against his hand, chasing the overwhelming sensation even as you begged for mercy.

Your mind was a haze of pleasure and pain, your thoughts a jumbled mess as you struggled to keep up with the sensations coursing through your body.

You were completely at Joshua's mercy, your body and mind completely surrendered to his control.

He watched you with a satisfied smile, his eyes glinting with a mixture of lust and adoration.

"You're so beautiful like this," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. "All desperate and overwhelmed, completely lost in pleasure."

As he continued to work the vibrator against you, he moved his other hand to your thigh, gently spreading your legs wider.

"I want to see all of you," he whispered, his eyes roaming over your body hungrily. "I want to see every inch of you as you fall apart for me."

You whimpered as he exposed you even further, your body completely exposed and vulnerable to his gaze.

Joshua's eyes roamed over you greedily, taking in every inch of your trembling, overstimulated body.

"So perfect," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "You're so perfect for me, baby. My beautiful, perfect girl."

His praise sent shivers down your spine, making your heart flutter even as your body continued to tremble with pleasure.

"I love seeing you like this," he continued, his voice growing more possessive with each word. "You're mine, all mine. And I'm going to make you feel so good, over and over again until you can't take it anymore."

As he spoke, his fingers began to move even faster against your clit, the vibrations pushing you closer and closer to the edge once more.

Your body tensed, every muscle coiling tight as you hurtled towards another orgasm.

"Please," you gasped, your voice broken and desperate. "Please, Joshua, I can't..."

"Yes you can," he repeated, his tone firm but gentle. "You can give me one more, I know you can. You're almost there, baby."

He pressed the vibrator harder against your clit, the intense sensations sending you reeling towards the brink of your fourth orgasm.

You were a mess of needy whimpers and pleas, your body writhing beneath his touch as you teetered on the edge of oblivion.

"Please, please, please," you chanted, your voice growing louder and more frantic with each repetition.

Joshua's eyes were fixed on your face, his gaze intense and unwavering as he watched you struggle to hold on.

With one final, desperate cry, you came undone once more.

Your body arched off the bed, your back bowing as the orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Joshua didn't let up, continuing to hold the vibrator against you as he guided you through the intense waves of pleasure.

As you finally came down from your fourth orgasm, your body limp and trembling on the bed, Joshua pulled away from you.

He took a moment to catch his breath, his eyes roving over your flushed and exhausted form with a look of pure satisfaction.

"You did so well, baby," he murmured, his voice filled with awe. "You were incredible."

He slowly pulled his trousers down, his eyes never leaving your body as he did so.

"I'm not done with you yet," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "You're going to keep going for me, baby. You're going to give me everything you have."

He climbs onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs as he gazes down at you with a cocky grin.

"You look absolutely wrecked," he teases, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I've never seen you so ruined before, baby."

He leans down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "But you're still so beautiful. I could keep you like this forever, completely lost in pleasure and unable to do anything but submit to me."

He nips at your earlobe, his teeth gently scraping against the sensitive skin.

"You're mine, you know that?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. "Every inch of you, every part of your body belongs to me. And I'm going to use it to make you feel so good, over and over again until you can't remember anything except my name.

[kaybreezy3000]

First ~ A Five Hargreeves/Female Reader Insert request

Nov. 16 Anonymous asked:

Hellooooo please can you write a soft dom five smut where it's the readers first time? (Female reader if that's okay :))

(4914 word one-shot, Rated Mature for explicit sexual content)

Notes/Tags/Warnings: neither are minors, Virginity, Smut, Dominance-Control, Surrender, Acceptance.

First

~~~~~~~~~

It had finally happened. You met that special someone that made you feel complete, like without them by your side, a part of you would be missing. All it took was Five giving you one of his adorable smiles, or him saying a witty comment to get you to laugh, and your heart skipped a beat.

He had been spooning you, nuzzling his face against your neck, his long fingers delicately drawing lines up and down the underside of your arm, and you were in heaven. Then your movie ended.

Untangling his legs from yours, Five pushed his feet to the end of your couch, stretching. The arm he had draped around you slipped away as he lazily folded it behind his head with his other. “It’s late,” he pointed out, followed by a drawn-out yawn.

Clicking the TV off, you twisted your body around to face him. “So what if it’s late,” you challenged, wrapping your hand around his slacked tie, towing him closer.

Five’s soft lips hesitantly grazed yours. When he pulled back, eyes closed, you tried to follow him with your lips, blindly searching.

Charmed by your innocence but doing his best to squash his more lustful desires, Five reached out, his fingertips brushing against your cheek before he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

You opened your eyes, looking back at him in disappointment.

“I should go,” he whispered.

Thanks to Five and his warm body burrowed around yours, you’d been held in a suspended state of arousal for the last two hours. Frustration mounting, your thighs clenched around the pooling heat smearing your panties. “Five Hargreeves, you are driving me crazy!” you playfully growled at him. 

Gathering all your courage, using a move you’d learned from his play book, you leaned in, seductively sucking his lower lip into your mouth.

Five let out a moan that sounded as pained as if you’d just sucker punched him. His mouth hungrily molded to yours, the warm bulge of fabric between his legs nudging against your hip.

From the feel of things, you could tell that didn’t want to go home, but after only a moment more of indulging himself, he backed away. “I mean it. I should go,” he breathlessly insisted.

Releasing the grip you had on his necktie; you slowly walked your fingers down the front of his dress shirt. His breath hitched, his lean muscles anxiously tensing the further south you explored. Stopping just short of his waistband, he made no move to retaliate, and worse, he said nothing to guide you along like he normally did.

Suddenly, you weren’t so sure of yourself.

Dark strands of hair dangled over his penetrating gaze.

The wheels in his head were turning and you knew his worries were getting the best of him again. You also knew that despite the awful things Five had been put through to get to this point, he was still the kindest, most loving person you’d ever met. He was also the hardest on himself. 

Determined to turn his frown upside down, you cupped your hand, slowly moving your palm over his crotch. 

“Fuck.” 

The sound of his strained curse doing something magical to your insides, your hand started moving just a little faster.

“If you keep that up, you’re going to be in big trouble,” he warned.

“Good,” you countered, your confidence building with every contortion of his handsome face.

Five shook his head, letting out a long, shuddering sigh. “I feel like a perverted old monster who should be stoned in the street for allowing this.” “Five….” you droned in amused irritation. Five may have been much, much older, but he didn't look any older than you.

“No really,” he continued, “Asking you out should have been a sign I’d finally totally lost it, but thanks to your relentless flirting, I did it anyway. I’m a selfish bastard, and now here we are, you the virtuous virgin fondling my dastardly dick.”

Laughing hysterically, your over clothing hand-job became even more clumsily executed, but based on Five’s dreamy expression, he was still enjoying it.

“What am I going to do with you?” he groaned, his voice enduringly cracking to a higher pitch as he complained. “It’s wrong for me to be taking advant-”

“You are not taking advantage of me,” you fired back. “I want this. I want you to be my first everything.”

Giving you a crafty looking side smirk, Five reached down, calmly taking your hand away from him. “You keep saying that, and it’s really making me question your sanity." He perked up. "Maybe we should both move into the nut house. It worked out okay for my brother and Lila. Then again, they are morons."

You scowled and his smile deepened. 

“Five, I know you think I’m not ready, but I am. Stay with me tonight.”

He sucked in a breath, letting it out with a breathy damn it.

You giggled at him.

His eyes lowered to your chest. You were really pushing him to the limits of his decency. 

All he could think about was staying, of how wonderful it would be to share your bed and make your thighs thrash against his head as he used his lips to do way more than kiss you. Doing that or anything he hadn’t already done to defile you was probably not how he should try to win your heart, which was exactly why he was trying so damn hard to take it slow.

Fuck this was so fucking hard, he mentally fumed.

Speaking of hard…

Like you, Five’s semi erect buddy in his pants was not getting the message that it was time to call it a night and its disobedience was not at all helping him think like the grown man he was supposed to be.

Instead of continuing to look at how far he could see down the front of your shirt, his entire body flushing with heat, he cleared his throat, forcing his eyes to meet yours. Even though he was undoubtedly the one in control of this situation, feeling more vulnerable by the second, he let out a tense laugh.

You smiled and ducked your head shyly, making that same lock of hair he’d fixed fall all over again.

To prevent himself from reaching out to replace it behind your ear, he adjusted his grip. Letting your wrist go, he laced his fingers over the top of yours, clenching both your hands together. “You think you know what you are getting yourself into, sweetheart, but you don’t,” he said, sternly staring you down.

“I know you, Five, and I am not scared.” Proving it, you moved your linked hands between your legs, his widened eyes following them down.

“Shit,” Five hissed as his fingertips skimmed across the moist satin covering you.

His cock twitched with excitement. 

Full erection coming in, five, four, three, two…

The line between his brows deepened and you were sure he was going to start arguing with you again, but then his lips crashed into yours. Ripping his hand away, the next thing you knew, both his hands were under your skirt. Forcefully grabbing your butt cheeks, he rolled you on top of him, driving your hips down as he ground the swell of his restrained manhood across your wet panties.

“Oh, dear God!” you cried out as he started vigorously dry fucking you, rocking you back and forth over his cock.

Swaying like a drunken sailor, your insides coiled tighter, your heartbeat thumping hard between your legs.

Dragging you forward and back again with rapid fire movements of his flexing forearms, Five grinned. “Since you're being such a bad girl tonight, the question is, should I stir your tonsils with my dick, like last night,” he questioned. “Or...should I finger fuck you until you can’t see straight, and then send you off to bed with a spanking for being so naughty?”

Stunned stupid by all the panty wetting things coming out of his wonderfully dirty mouth, you didn’t know what to say, so naturally, like the smug asshole Five was, he flopped back, casually throwing his hands behind his head, ending your pleasure ride to Humpity-Humpville.

“Five, please don’t stop!” you yelled, bouncing around on him like a child having a tantrum.

He rolled his eyes, and with how pathetically flustered you were, you couldn’t really blame him.

You covered your face, mumbling through your fingers. “I really want to slap you right now.”

He chuckled. “I’d be into that.”

You peeked at him. 

“Take your best shot. See what happens next, I dare you,” he added, looking even more pleased with himself.

Desperate to get him going again, but not so sure slapping was the way to do it, dropping your hands, you snuck one down, your fingers moving over the hot outline of his erection where it was trapped against his thigh.

Five’s eyes narrowed menacingly as your thumb softly circled the rounded silhouette of his thickly swollen tip. He whispered your name. “___, you should have run while you still had the chance.”

Heart hammering in your chest, your feet started sliding across the couch cushions, your hand moving away from your scary ex-temporal assassin boyfriend’s danger zone.

“Where do you think you are going?” he teased, snatching your wrist.

Your lips parted, but you didn’t get out a single peep.

Your skin tingled with static. Ripped into a blur of blinding light, suddenly, you were weightless, like you were at the top of a Ferris wheel, starting your quick, stomach dropping descent. Less than a second later, jarring you back into reality, the hardwood floor in your bedroom smacked beneath your feet.

The second you opened your mouth, it was covered by Five’s warm lips. He walked you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the bed. His demanding kisses moved along your cheek, then along your neck, and back up, where he nipped at your earlobe with the points of his teeth, the electrified pain of his little love bites amplifying the throbbing between your legs.

Dizzy but no longer from his jump, broken moans sang out of you as you swayed.

Nudging the side of your neck with his nose, Five let out a throaty sound of satisfaction as he worked your shirt up over your head, then unhooked your bra, letting both pieces of clothing fall at your feet. Tucking his hands under your butt, he launched you on the bed. Pouncing down next to you, he started placing a scattering of kisses across your thighs. Commanding all your senses, his hands moved up and down, tickling the backs of your thighs. He did that until he moved his teasing up under your skirt.

Moving right along, he pulled it down your legs, kicking it off your ankles with his feet. Pushing your knees to the side with his, he dropped over you. Bending his head to the side, he kissed the insides of your thighs, letting his tongue leisurely glide along, turning you into a trembling mess, his ridiculously soft hair brushing along to add to the blissful torment.

“Five, please!” you wailed as his mouth edged closer.

His breath danced over you a few agonizing seconds before he traced his tongue along the wet divide darkening panties.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

The warmth of Five’s smile spread against your folds as he hooked his fingers under the thin straps at your hips. Pulling your underwear down, he gave you a mischievous look filled with boyish delight, then he slingshot them across your bedroom.

Backing up to admire you, he said, “So perfect.” His cool eyes unabashedly drew an invisible line down your naked body, taking it all in at a leisurely pace. 

Working his tie loose, he whipped it to the floor with the growing pile of clothes.

You were already quivering in anticipation, but then his hand moved to his zipper, pulling it down. 

Freeing his cock, he gripped it in one fist.

His head cocked to the side, that wicked smirk of his never faltering as he started explaining the rules while shamelessly stroking himself. “If you want me to stop at any time, I will.” He lowered his chin slightly, his lust filled eyes never leaving yours. “If I do something you like, you need to let me know so I can keep doing it. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you nervously breathed. Your gaze lowered to the glistening tip of his cock where he was spreading his precum around, and around. “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?” 

“Because you are,” he frankly replied. "We already covered this."

In a flash, he was on you, dastardly dick dangling out of his black dress pants, he sadistically tickled you, his fingers mercilessly digging into your sides.

Frantically laughing, you yelped, “Five, stop!” 

Yielding, he rolled most of his weight on the elbow he had positioned at your hip. Smiling innocently, he lowered his face, his lips closing around your nipple. Sucking it in his mouth, he circled it with his tongue.

The feeling of his mouth doing that, hit you right between the legs.

Squirming, you threw your head back into your pillows, panting. If you wanted more or less, at this point, you so weren’t sure.

Being really into boobs as he obviously was, Five had felt you up many times, but like him licking your panties, this was new. The erotic sensation of him worshiping your breasts in this way was like slowly dying to the backdrop of his soft sounds of contentment.

“Shhhhiiiitttttttt!” you hissed when his teeth unexpectedly pulled on your peaked flesh, tugging at an invisible rope that you hadn't realized was tied to every nerve ending in your body.

Pawing at his back, your declarations of nonsensical profanity got louder the greedier Five sucked on your tits. 

Your hands in his hair, fucking it up, eventually you got him to release the prized tit he’d been savoring, but his mouth stayed on you, trailing kisses south as his words buzzed against your skin. "You are so fun to play with,” he teased, his mouth pulling wide in a heartbreaker of a smile as he peeked at you.

Hands moving under your ass, possessively grasping your butt cheeks, he gave them each a quick pinch that made you jolt up against him.

You couldn’t even say more than a few unintelligible syllables after that because the next thing he said was with his lower lip purposefully pressed against your clit, his words vibrating straight through to your bones.

“Been dying to eat this pussy,” he mumbled.

“Ohhh-my-gah-fffff!” 

His tongue felt like it was searing you as it slipped across your clit. Wriggling it, he started licking you up and down.

“Does-tthsss-feel-goo?” he sloppily mouthed. 

“Feels-ss-samazing.”

Encouraged by that, or just trying to keep you stupidly panting nonsense, he sucked your clit into his mouth, treating the small nub of flesh the way he’d taught you to suck his cock. 

Losing your mind, you bucked your hips, forcing him to hold you down with a hand planted firmly at your waist. Happily lapping away, his other hand moved between your legs, his fingers just barely grazing across your slicked entrance.

You tensed. 

Five looked up, the familiar look of worry in his eyes, his swollen lips shimmering as they parted in question, “Are you sure about this?”

Doing your best to calm down, you nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly.

With the go ahead, watching your reactions carefully, Five circled just the tip of one finger around your entrance.

You whimpered and he did too.

At the feeling of the tip of his finger dipping inside, your body reactively clenched around it.

“I’m hurting you,” Five breathed, stopping the second he felt you tense again. 

“No. Keep-Keep going,” you insisted, trying so hard to make your body stop shivering.

With your breathy approval, his finger pulled back out, then sank back in, only all the way this time. You moaned from the feeling of him curling his knuckle, dragging the tip of his finger along your walls.

“Still good?” he asked, knowing all too well that you’d never been penetrated like this.

Swallowing thickly, you nodded again.

Five repeated the motion, eyes glued to the finger disappearing inside you. He let out a tiny moan that matched how you felt, then lowering his body down to the bed, he ran a line with his tongue up your slit.

“More. Like that," you said, gripping the back of his head.

The narrow bridge of Five’s nose rubbed against your pubic bone, that alone feeling so unbelievable good, then he started flicking his tongue against your clit.

That got you moaning so loud the entire block probably heard it.

Assured that you were ready for it, Five started thrusting his finger, hooking it with each outward drag.

Something in you felt like it bust.

You cried out.

Uncontrollably arching your pelvis into his face, Five’s magical tongue started working up and down, pressing and circling against your clit faster and faster.

“Don’t stop,” you begged, the balls of your feet digging into the bed until he rammed his shoulders into the backs of your thighs, forcing your legs wider.

Toes curling, your feet bouncing against his upper back, you were so close to the edge. It felt different than anytime you'd been balanced on the brink before, but you knew enough to recognize it was coming. Your cunt was already dripping on his hand and the bedspread, but when Five unexpectedly added a second finger, pushing them both all the way in, white hot light burned the bundle of nerves he was sucking. 

“Oh-ffff-faaah-ck!”

Tears prickled the corner of your eyes. His fingers kept moving, shoving in and out of you, hard and fast.

Stroking himself again, the tip of Five’s cock painted a line of wet heat against your leg.

With the sinful noises he was making, all mixing with his finger squelching in and out, and the sounds coming from your own gaping mouth, something had to give.

Your vision blurred. Your thighs tightened around his head probably suffocating him. A fractured groan tore out of his chest, but his tongue kept swirling, your shaking breaths growing shallower and shallower, then ceasing all together.

Your eyes slammed shut.

Pulses of your climax shook you from the inside out. You were free falling, drifting on the edge of something otherworldly and new, your entire body rendered useless.

You legs went limp.

His hands slowed, then stopped.

“Sweetheart?” 

“Hmmm?” you deliriously hummed. You opened one eye, looking down at Five nestled between your legs. His head was propped up on the hand he had been using to jerk off, and his hair was sticking up all over the place looking so cute.

He smiled. Slipping his fingers out, he brought them to his mouth, making a show of licking them clean. 

He looked so satisfied, yet there you were, the one who’s pussy was still pulsing with post orgasmic aftershocks.

You couldn’t believe him. Five was just…

Blown away with how sexy he looked, you crooked a finger at him.

You hadn’t seen him do it, but still noticeably hard, he'd tucked himself back in his briefs. Belt undone, pants hanging open, he crawled up next to you, making no attempt to do anything more than cuddle in next to you. 

He lowered his forehead to your shoulder, as if perfectly fine with leaving things as is, like making you feel good was all that mattered even though you could feel every long inch of him warm against your leg and his balls had to be feeling very blue.

Smoothing your hand around his neck, you caught the sharp angle of his jaw, forcing him to look at you. As you wove his chocolatey brown hair between your fingers, his eyes glazed over in pleasure. “Five…” you sweetly soothed, “Why did you stop when you’re-”

He kissed you, cutting you off. He looked so happy and sad at the same time as his eyes searched yours.

“Five… I love you…”

His throat clicked when he swallowed. “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He looked down.

“I don’t know what I’d do if I ruined this,” he quietly admitted.

Confused, you looked down too.

His hand brushed your cheek, and your eyes met again. “I don’t want to hurt you in any way,” he clarified, trying to smile.

You smiled too. “You won’t.”

You reached down, grasping his dick through his tented pants.

Your eyes moved down the length of his neck and he swallowed hard again. 

“Take off your clothes,” you ordered, giggling like an idiot over his intoxicated expression.

When you let go of him, doing as he was told, like he was still a good little solider, only no longer taking order from evil assholes, Five quickly shuffled out of his pants and underwear, then started unbuttoning his shirt.

Just watching him undress was hypnotic.

With not an ounce of fat on him, Five’s torso muscles formed a drool worthy ‘V’ shape directing your eyes downward. As if the sight of that wasn’t hot enough to scorch your brain, as soon as he shrugged his shirt off, full naked, you got to watch him pump his hand up and down his shaft a few times, a little bead of pre-cum beading up on the tip before it drizzled across his tightly clenched fingers.

“Five, you are so hot. You know that right?”

He let a self-depreciating laugh. “Yeah, right.”

Coming back to you on his hands and knees, dropping one hand on the bed to support himself, dick in his other hand, Five hovered over you.

“I’m ready, Five.”  You’d already said it, but he must have needed to hear it again because he didn’t make another move until he heard it.

Lining himself up, already looking distraught over the feeling of gilding his tip across your entrance, Five's voice quivered so unbelievably sweetly as he said, "You need to promise me if it gets be too much you’ll tell me.”

With the feel of him thick and heavy, resting against your hole as he waited for your answer, you bobbed your head, promising him you would.

He sucked in a breath.

Bracing yourself as he gently slipped in just his tip, your hands curled around his biceps.

You tried to hold it in, but you whimpered, and it was enough to give him pause.

“Fuck you are tight,” Five gasped, flipping his head back, trying to get his hair out of his eyes so he could concentrate on your face. “Are you okay?” he asked, not moving at all.

“Feels really big, but you are big,” you breathed in little puffs, trying to make him smile and make your body relax, so your walls could stretch around him. He still didn’t move. “Keep going, it feels good,” you pushed.

“You’re sure?”

“I’m shhh-sure.”

Hyperfocused, Five continued, sinking himself into you with shallow thrusts, only taking more when he slipped inside you without having to force it. Letting your body accept him at its own pace, his eyes looking into yours, your souls were becoming one. Opening you, he took your virginity with all the gentleness and love you had expected of him. 

“You feel so good,” Five agitatedly growled as his thrusts became slightly faster. “You like it like this?”

“Fuck, yes.”

Thrilled to hear it, capturing your lips with his, he kissed you with an urgency that matched the increasingly jolting movements of his hips. 

When your elbows slipped, laying you flat, Five buried his face against your breasts, passionately licking and sucking on them instead.

“Such a good girl. That's right. Fuck yourself on my cock," he praised when you started rocking your hips in rhythm with his.

When he sat up, eyeing the movement of his cock slipping in and out of you, you could have died, but then, doing you one more, he grabbed your hips, pulling you down the bed towards him.

Bottoming out hard, he held you down against the bed. Grinding into you, his eyes rolled back, and his mouth gaped.

Coming to his senses, he saw you clinging to the sheets and he instantly eased back. Falling down over you again, his open mouth at your neck, he started covering you with repentant kisses mixed with breathless apologies. “I’m sorry. That was too much. So sorry…”

Running your hands reassuringly through his hair you shushed him and rocked your hips into him hard as you could, trying to replicate what he’d done.

He lifted his head.

Like a man possessed, he quickly raised your legs around his waist, repositioning you. Helping him, you locked your feet around his lower back. Hooking his arms under your knees, Five’s powerful hips started colliding into you.

“You’re mine now,” he growled before he started wildly kissing your neck.

Hot skin slapping skin, your headboard banged into the wall in a cadence that matched him how he was rapidly fucking into you.

His breathless pants spilled out of him as he worked the head of his cock back and forth, aiming for something inside you that coiled tighter and tighter the longer he focused his efforts on it.

“Come on, baby, come for me again…need to feel…need you,” he chanted, his kisses getting sloppier until you felt nothing but his bowed head against your shoulder.

You were so close already, all it took was Five lifting your hips, pulling out almost all the way before he slammed back into you, repeating the pounding motion with grunted curses punctuating each thrust.

The change in momentum set you off.

It was explosive. Throbbing with pulsing waves of euphoria drowning you, you released on his cock, with clenching spasms rocking you to the core.

“Did you?” Five frantically questioned, pulling his sweat covered forehead up. His dark gaze ran over your reddened face, his eyes softened at the sight of your trembling lips. 

Getting confirmation that he’d done it, trying to sit up, he started to pull out.

Forcing your jelly-like legs to function, you held onto him, refusing to let him get away.

“I want all of you,” you whimpered.

For a sex God, he somehow looked so unsure of himself. “I’m yours, always,” he promised.

“I want you to cum inside of me, Five. I want all of you.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” 

Letting out a strangled groan that turned hiss of determination, his hips snapped into you violently, extending your orgasm as your pussy milked spurting gushes of his seed from his throbbing cock. 

The force behind Five’s hips melted away with each stuttered thrust. Filling you until he had nothing left, his eyes fluttering closed, his dark lashes fanned his smooth pale cheeks. He looked like an angel.

Entranced by how beautiful he was, your eyes glistened.

His breaths slowing, Five finally opened his eyes. That sweet smile you loved crept to his lips. Gently, he pulled out, the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and the loss of his spent cock were enough to make your body start quivering all over again, shivering from head to toe.

“Was that okay? Are you okay,” he asked, looking concerned.

“More than okay,” you happily sighed.

He quirked a brow at you. “You're not just saying that to stroke my ego?”

Shaking your head, you laughed. There was no way he didn’t know that was amazing and you were more than happy to stroke anything he wanted you to stroke.

Leaning in, kissing you slow and soft, his hand tickling down your belly. Lips pulling away from yours, he glanced down. His sleepy smile suddenly gone.

You sat up a little, looking between your legs at the bed.

A light pink tinged the white sheets. 

“Are you sore? I- I didn’t realize-” Running his hand back through his hair, Five looked so heartbreakingly distraught, but he’d done nothing wrong.

You could feel a slight ache where he’d been, but it wasn’t painful. “No pain,” you said. “I feel nothing but you, Five. I love you so much.”

The burn of tears prickled your eyes again. 

His soft green eyes glistened too. “I’ll be right back,” he said, timidly smiling.

He could have blinked himself to the bathroom, but he didn’t. Letting you check out his bare ass, disheveled and cute as ever, he sprinted across the room to the bathroom, coming back a second or two later with two towels.

Carefully cleaning you up, and then the bed, he laid the unused towel over the spot you’d been laying, then he laid back down over it, pulling you in next to him.

After covering you both with the duvet, his warm fingers started tracing up and down your spine. 

Basking in the afterglow of what you’d done together, your mind and heart were filled with nothing but him. You had no worries or fears.

You were almost too exhausted to move, your body undeniably his to hold however he wished.

Lulled by the magic of Five’s featherlight touch, you couldn’t be happier, but then suddenly you felt him shifting away.

Opening your droopy lids, he gave you one of his affectionate little smiles, and seeing it, you immediately began to slip away again. “You better not take off on me when I fall asleep,” you teased.

Rolling you over so he could make you into his little spoon, Five rested his face against your neck. His feet twisted around yours.

“I’m not going anywhere, my love.”

You smiled. 

You already knew he wasn’t.

“I loved you too, by-the-way. Not sure if I said that,” he playfully added.

Your chest moved up and down with a silent laugh. 

You already knew that too, and he knew very well why he hadn’t let himself say it until now.

He was scared to letting anyone see who he really was. But for you, Five finally let go.

He was ready. Ready for a life filled with love that was not just one-sided.

With you, for the first time, everything about this was real.

He kissed the shell of your ear, whispering your name. “___, I love you.”

Warm and safe in his embrace, penetrated by his love, it felt like anything was possible.

Thinking of your future together, you squeezed his hand against your heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is. Stir that into your eggnog. 😂

I wish you all peace and love, whatever that means to you.

And thanks for asking for this one anon. After writing this, now I'm even more ruined by this amazing fictional man.

❤️ Breezy

Link to easily view all my Five related Tumblr story and art posts

Link to my Master List

Lint to visit me direct on A03

[bladefuck]

It had been weeks since the incident. The two best friends had gotten drunk after a Rebel Mission together. It was all a bit hazy to Dylan, honestly. They almost wrecked someones car, laughing and taking pictures, before just managing to bolt back home before anyone could spot them. Wouldn’t want a repeat van incident, after all.

Eric had asked to stay the night at his place, seeing as it was the weekend and they had nothing else planned. After much begging, Dylan’s mom had said yes to the two and given them control over the house as she left to stay with a friend.

This meant the two could get freely drunk, and drunk they got.

The most Dylan remembered was the two stumbling down to the basement after nearly half a bottle of vodka had vanished into their systems. The feeling of skin against skin, rough hands grasping him, the desire to take and take and the lust for more and more.

So it was no surprise that, in the morning, the two both pretended they remembered nothing from their drunken stupor. And though Dylan believed Eric and Eric believed him, the two both knew themselves that those memories and lingering feelings never would vanish.

That wasn’t the only problem, however. Dylan frequently found himself harshly woken up in the morning with swings of nausea and forced to hunch over as he retched his insides out.

The mood swings didn’t help, either. He thought he was going insane with the stress of knowing what he had done, his mood swinging faster than a drunken man on a nightclub floor.

He tried his best to contain them, but it didn’t help when he saw who he blamed for all this nearly everyday, Eric. He had slipped up once, and yelled at the other harshly. But once again he felt the swinging of the pendulum and a familiar wave of despair befall him at the sight of Erics widened eyes and his legs taking a few steps back. He tried apologizing, but nothing came out.

He eventually decided to get to the bottom of it, researching online whenever his mother wasn’t home. But the only answer he found seemed so rediculous he felt himself laughing until there were the formations of tears in the corners of his eyes.

Yet as he continued with these bouts of nausea, mood swings, even odd cravings here and there, he got more and more desperate.

So he tried clearing his thoughts and ignoring the dread gnawing at his heart and frontal lobe as he stood at a pharmacy section of a local store, package in hand as he walked away as quick as possible.

All this had led to him not having much time for Eric, and when factoring in his sudden session of yelling at the other boy one day as school ended, he had expected the other to be pissed with him. Though Eric normally seemed pissed about most things these days, it seemed.

So it came as a shock to Dylan when Eric asked to come over one saturday, weeks later. Though the two could pretend nothing happened, the anxiousness of being near the other remained constant.

As Dylan put the home phone down after giving him permission, he couldn’t help but smile despite the crushing sense of anxiety that fell over him.

Dylan couldn’t stop the pacing he found himself doing as he awaited his best friends arrival. Eventually, he forced himself to stop. He marched into the bathroom nearby, taking out the package and tearing it open.

“Better get this over with before he gets here,” Dylan said to himself. He made sure the door was fully locked despite the fact he was, as of now, the only person in the house, the rest of his family gone at some dumb restaurant outting.

…

The blonde haired man looked deeply into the mirror, as if daring it to stop looking back. When it stayed the exact same, he sighed and pushed back with the palms of his thin white hands.

“Shit, how will I ever tell him?,” he murmured to himself. He knew he could tell his best friend anything. … Right? Yet at the same time, the eternal fear of judgement and abandoment crept over him, its shadowy claws grabbing his body and feeling as if it would tear him to shreds.

“You okay in there, dude?”

Dylan jolted at the sound of the other males voice. He had been so caught up in his own little world he entirely forgot that he invited the other over just now.

“Yeah! Just, uh, give me a second!”

He yelled back. This seemed to be an acceptable answer, as Eric didn’t respond.

He slipped the item he had just finished using into his pocket. Dylan looked up, letting out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and stepped out.

His shorter friend smiled at the sight of him. Dylan saw he already made himself at home in his room, but he supposed it made sense, what with the two being almost inseperable.

Dylan casually sat down at the edge of his bed, which Eric was sprawled out across.

The older man must’ve saw his expression, as his eyes narrowed.

“Something’s up. I can tell,” he put simply. Dylan smiled nervously, but he knew he couldn’t just talk his way out of it like he did with others.

He took a deep breath. He knew Eric better than anyone, he knew he could confess this… he just knew it. Like a pull in his gut that drove him to the man.

“Just- Just promise not to get mad,” he said tentatively, carefully watching the others expression for even a hint of malice in Erics face.

“Okay, fine, you fuckin’ anxious wreck. Promise.”

Dylan smiled at his sarcastic remark and smirk.

“So, you remember how we got drunk a few weeks ago and, uhm, well…”

Dylan trailed off. Those memories were still fresh in his mind like an iron press ingrating it onto his brain. Eric tensed. He expected the other to have forgotten all about that night, with how often he got drunk off his mind. He looked away from the younger man, but after a few moments looked back.

“… Yeah. Why?”

Short and simple, he told himself. Don’t freak Dylan out or anything, don’t scare him off after they’ve already come so far.

He paused when Dylan gulped and fumbled with something in his pocket.

“Whatcha got there, V?”

Eric sat up as he asked this, looking curiously. Dylan sighed. Standing up and on the side of the bed, he looked down at Eric.

In his hand lay a pregnancy test, its sleek white design unmistakable. On a small screen lay two lines, forming the shape of a cross like object.

“Do you want a boy, or a girl?”

Dylan asked meekly, grinning

[gingerly-writing]

Secret Santa

this is a secret santa post for @creweemmaeec11!! your prompt was:

Villain is usually very flirty and confident, and then during a mission where hero goes undercover at some fancy event with Villain as their fake date, all of the sudden Villain starts acting really scared and nervous because of something at the event then has to help reassure/calm them down, and its cute. Bonus points if you can somehow work in a hidden power reveal.

I'm pretty proud of how I tackled this one, so without further ado, let's go for it!

-----

The Guild's winter gala sparkled.

Superhero moved through the frosted festivities like they were born to be there, like the whole event has been crafted just to make them look good. They floated majestically half a centimetre above the fake snow, crystal heels glittering as they strode. Their long dress swirled about their ankles, fading from white at the neckline to an icy pale blue at the hem, shimmering all the way down. Cold lights reflected angelically across their cheekbones and the diamond tiara balanced in their perfect hair.

They looked like the monarch of winter, the belle of the ice ball. Even the sharpness of their face fit.

They didn't even have cryo powers, for pete's sake.

Villain trudged along next to them, fighting the urge to wrap her arms around herself. Her suit was wet around the ankles, and a chill crept up her spine. Did they have to be so enthusiastic with the fake snow and dry ice? At least her tie went with the theme, ice blue to match Superhero's dress. That hadn't even been her idea, of course. Superhero had insisted, and now Villain found herself grudgingly glad of it. She didn't need to look any more out of place than she already did.

"Unhunch," Superhero demanded. Not forcefully. It was just they didn't make requests—they asked, but already expected their desired answer.

Villain straightened automatically, then scowled about it. "That's not a word."

"That's not an excuse. Stop skulking about." Superhero's gaze roved across the ballroom, picking out heroes new and old. Allies, petty rivals, good friends, threats. Assessing and scouting. Hunting. "It makes you look like you don't belong."

"I'm good at skulking. Probably because I don't belong."

Superhero turned on her, skirts whirling. "You do." Not an argument, just a statement of fact. "How long have you been my ally? My friend?"

Villain shifted uncomfortably. "The government classes me as-"

"This isn't the government, it's the Guild. And we don't give a festive fig what they say." They bent down to eye level, forcing eye contact. "You belong here. Just like I do. Just like everyone does."

"Alright, alright, I'll unhunch!" Villain looked away, faking nonchalance, but she couldn't quite hide her smile in her collar. Superhero's reassurances—hell, any scrap of their attention—always felt so good.

The touch of Superhero's hand on their forearm radiated through them like an electric shock. Villain startled.

Superhero smiled at them. Their smiles were always tiny, secretive little things, teasing at the corners of their mouth. "Come. I want to show you off on the floor."

"...the dance floor?!”

“How many times have you offered to take me dancing?”

Villain chatted a lot of nonsense while she was flirting. Like, a lot a lot. “Yeah, on a rooftop or an anonymous nightclub. Not here, in front of everyone we work with and half the people we fight!”

“You’ll be fine,” Superhero decided, and tugged her out onto the floor. 

Other couples were already swirling. Scientist stumbled past with her favourite henchman, and both of them were laughing. Thief and Detective were handcuffed together and glaring as they swayed side to side—it was always something with those two. Hero twirled by with his daughter balanced on his shoes, the little girl grinning ear to ear, blue flames engulfing the pair of them. 

Villain found herself in traditional hold with Superhero, her frenemesis taking control. She stepped after her automatically, swayed when directed, and dipped when pushed. She came up blushing and desperate to hide it. How was Superhero so damn good at this? They weren't even trying to flirt, and yet Villain was on the verge of swooning. So completely unfair.

That was partly why the onslaught of sheer terror caught her so off guard. One moment her body was flowing between Superhero's hands like water, and the next she was ramrod straight with all the hair on her nape standing on end.

Superhero frowned. "No, don't seize up like that! You were doing so well."

"I didn't...mean to?" Villain's mind spun faster than her body ever could. The suddenness of the new emotion, as if artificially imposed...could it be? Her gaze shot around the dance floor, through Hero and Scientist and- there. Twirling through the chaos, seemingly without a care in the world: Antihero.

Now the ice shooting through her veins felt real.

Superhero watched her with those cold-winter-sky eyes. "It's not the dancing," they ascertained. "What's wrong?"

"It's fine," Villain gritted out, forcing her feet to keep moving in time with the music. "Really, it is. We should just-"

Superhero held up one of Villain's hands in both of theirs. She was trembling. "You aren't scared of anything," Superhero told her. "Not even me, which I admit is quite aggravating at times. So forgive my worry, but you're not dancing your way out of this one. What. Is. Wrong?"

"Antihero." It came out like a church confession.

"The empath?" Superhero's brow wrinkled, then smoothed as they realised. "Oh, of course. She's feeding you undiluted fear."

"She's such an asshole," Villain said by way of agreement. "She's decided that I encroach on her territory when I team up with you. Apparently the Guild is only big enough to house one quasi-villain." And Villain had said no when Antihero had requested a teamup, but that seemed like too much to confess. Almost like admitting there was no one else Villain wanted to work with except Superhero.

"So she's just making you afraid-"

Oh how Villain wanted that to be the case but- "No. I'm actually- her powers give me the freaks. She can make you hate someone you love, fall in love with your enemy. Fear your best friend and idolise your rival." She shuddered. "And there's literally nothing you can do to stop her. Distance helps, but three foot thick steel walls or going underground or even knowing it’s not real don't make it go away. Trust me, I've tried."

Superhero span them so they could stare at Antihero. Villain forced them to keep spinning.

"Don't glare at her! Don't draw her attention. You don't want-"

"Better me than you-"

"Don't say that. Don't say that before you've felt it."

"I've dealt with telepaths before."

Well that was faintly horrifying. "She's just as bad, if not worse. Insidious powers with a vindictive personality to boot. Don't antagonise her. I don't want- both of us can't be messed up at the same time." Villain squeezed Superhero's hand tight. "Just don't. Please."

Superhero's full attention turned back to her with all the force of an ice storm. "Alright. For you."

The fear didn't ease, but Villain knew she was relieved somewhere under there. "Thank you."

"But I'm not going to let her torment you either."

"What do you..." The fear abated. All at once, like a theatre curtain falling between her and the rest of the room. No. Like a cocoon around her and Superhero. Villain stared up at her frenemesis with huge eyes. "What...how...?"

“You know what my powers are.”

She did…sort of. She had watched fire wash over them without burning, ice cover them without freezing. Punches bounce off them and bullets rebound. Villain had always assumed it was pure invincibility dialled up to 11, just like everyone else. That’s what it said in Superhero’s Guild and government files too. And yet… “I’m thinking maybe I didn’t grasp the full extent of what you can do.”

Superhero smiled wide enough to show teeth, their eyes glittering. “Good. I like to retain the ability to surprise.”

Villain let Superhero guide them through a spin and into a dip. Her body flowed, the tension dropping away. She felt…protected. Safe. “Antihero won’t like this,” she warned. “You’re making yourself a target.”

“Let her come. It’s been a long time since someone gave me the opportunity to remind everyone why I was designated ‘super’.”

Wow. Well, that was terrifying and hot. 

Fake snow drifted down all around them, catching in Superhero’s hair like tiny diamonds. Villain stuck her tongue out to catch some and grimaced at the taste, and Superhero chuckled at her. With the shield of their powers, the dancefloor felt like their own personal snowglobe, the two of them perfect dancers twirling forever hand in hand.

[vintage-love-nasha]

To be honest, I know things get worse.

I went for Umrah and really prayed for things in my life to improve . But you know how sometimes you feel so helpless that you want to give up on everything in life? That’s me right now.

I feel very helpless . I’ve lost control of my life . I tried my best to make things work. Tried my best to get a stable and good job , tried my best to not be in my own cave and go out and socialise.

But I have failed. In the last 10 years , I have done everything by myself . I’ve found my own way out in life with zero help, although im proud sometimes I feel if I had some sort of backing or incredible support my luck would’ve improved .

Such as friends who would refer me to better jobs or ways to invest for a better future . A partner who would guide me how to love and let go of my anger . At one point in my life , every time I felt sad I had an incredible friend who would go and have pastamania with me, which is my comfort food . Just one call away and we would have sausage pasta (spicy) with coke and waffle fries. Now she’s married just like everyone else .

Sometimes I can’t get over the feeling of my own حسرت— why is it that all the girls always get good partners . All my friends got good partners , no one ever thought about me , no one ever approached me for marriage. Even if they did, there was always another girl who was better than me and beat me to it. Always. It’s like as if all the time and energy I invested in a man, all the love I had for him was worthless, it is like as if I am invisible and don’t even matter . But the other girl always wins in life . She gets the life I always desired meanwhile I have to pick up all of my scattered love, reshuffle and think— where do I put it? I have nowhere to put it! Why must things get destroyed for me? Why must I be the one suffering ? I am not even a chaalak person, I am homely . I like to do ghardaari but I am never the chosen one . I am also loyal but never chosen.

Now, I just have pastamania alone because I lost my friends , I have no one to eat with , no one to chill with: I spend so much time with my cat and watching Pakistani dramas . I listen to coke studio and Atif Aslam. I love Honey Singh.

It’s so difficult to explain to someone who sees you as a stranger and hater that I have been holding my own fort for the longest time . That even if I get angry please understand it is due to incredible stress. If you think you can’t handle and I deserve to be blocked or never spoken to , go ahead maybe that’s all im worth .

I’ve always asked for strength to keep going but I find myself running out of strength .

Support builds character , growth and good mindset . It has been very difficult to be alone in my 20s. My sisters got married , and after my second sister got married , I felt so alone at home . Now I am exactly 30, it’s overwhelming to grow old .

I’m lucky to have my parents , but caring for them and worrying about their health every single day eats into my strength.

Whose shoulder do I cry on? I hate crying in front of my parents because I need to be their strength .

I don’t know what to do. I have tried everything’. Everything that I possibly could in my hands .

I wish that someone would just sit with me and say to me “I genuinely care about you. And your well being”.

I wish I wasn’t suffering . My brain is going to explode with all the sadness.

X

Bird (Andrea Arnold, 2024)

[personastrologyhub]

Understand the Ascendant Persona Chart

So i wrote this chapter today for an EBOOK book, that I'm writing, about Persona Charts , this is a chapter

Let me know what you think and if this helps you understand the concept a little better.

"Let me explain it like this, because it helped me grasp it.  Imagine you’re wearing a jacket. The Ascendant in your regular natal chart is the jacket—it’s what people notice first about you when you walk into a room. It’s how you look and act before they really know you. So as a scorpio rising, mine will probably be quite aloof, intense, and mysterious.  Now imagine someone approaches you, well in my case intrigued by that dark, intense Scorpio Rising energy (jacket) I give off. They stop you and ask, "Wow, What’s this jacket made of? Why do you choose it, and what does it say about you?  In this scenario, the Ascendant Persona Chart is where they start to understand the intricacies of that jacket, it's texture, it's symbolism, and its underlying emotional significance. The Ascendant Persona Chart therefore is like peeling back the layers of your (ascendants) first impression, revealing the deeper motivations, nuances, and emotional currents that influence how you present yourself. For example, as a Scorpio Rising, the initial impression I give off might be that of someone who is a bit aloof, reserved, even mysterious, with a keen intensity in the way I observe others. People may see a quiet, almost impenetrable exterior, one that doesn't easily give away its secrets. But if someone takes the time to "look closer" at the (jacket) using the Ascendant Persona Chart, they might start to understand the reasoning behind that mysterious facade. My Taurus rising will speak to that. Taurus speaks to the need for continuity so as a scorpio rising it presents a story of perhaps being(prone to cling onto things that are familiar, for the sake of stability,  resistant to change) Perhaps the jacket—your outer persona—was chosen because it offers protection, shields you from vulnerability, or gives you control over how others perceive you because like me (taurus) prefers stability and comfort. Maybe it’s crafted from a fabric of power, transformation, and deep emotional intensity—key traits of Scorpio. The deeper layers of the Ascendant Persona Chart highlight not only how you present yourself but also what drives you to maintain that presentation. What personal experiences, motivations, or desires led to you wearing that "jacket" in the first place? For Scorpio Rising, this might tie into a need for control, a natural wariness about revealing too much too soon, or an inner world so rich with complexity that you choose to keep it hidden from the casual observer.This chart is less about how you act and more about the why behind your actions and demeanor. It's about understanding how your Ascendant archetype helps you navigate the world—whether that’s through a shield of mystery, intensity, or resilience—and uncovering the quiet yet powerful ways in which you express your individuality. It's a map that allows you to recognize your own complex inner world and how it aligns with the way you choose to show up to others, often in ways they can’t immediately perceive.

The Ascendant represents how you begin your journey—your outward persona and approach to life. The MC is where you’re headed, the culmination of your career, reputation, and life’s mission. And the Sun provides the energy and identity needed to make this journey.

coming soon

- Mel Christina ©

[may3505w]

So the thing is, I want to have one of those muscular, masculine, manly men, and I want to fuck him stupid.

I want him to lay on the bed. His knees and elbows making dents in the mattress, mascular legs shaking as his face is buried in his hands, his ass up in the air and his cock dripping precum onto his previously freshly clean bedsheets. I like dominating dominant men, there's nothing interesting about doming men that are only subs... I want the guys that never cry, that never show weakness, the kind of men that believes he should treat women with respect because they're weaker and precious like porcelain, that wants a housewife and that women are naturally more gentle and submissive... And I want him to try to argue that with me as I tease his cock with my fingertips.

I want to teach him real desperation, to show him that despite what he believes, despite what others have forced into his head, he's just a person. That underneath a cologne heavy with musky sandalwood, beneath his armour of dark shaded clothing, under his layers of sore, aching muscles he worked his bones to grow and sculpt, below the act he puts on Infront of himself, the comfort he continues to choose, lies he convinces himself to believe, the roller coaster of emotions and denial quietly happening in the bottom of his throat, the casualness and indifference he uses to convince himself through others that what he wants to believe in, what he always believed to be true, truly does answer the questions he's too uncomfortable asking aloud. Beyond the fake truths he believes himself to find, he's just as human as all the other animals on earth besides us.

I move my hands to the base of his throbbing cock, gliding my hand in a straight line that makes his legs shake some more. I press a kiss to the small of his back as I slowly start stroking him after hours or teasing, his body taut, soft whimpers muffled against his pillow.. I like to give praise. For me, it's a way to slowly make him into my perfect slut, lacing bits of my desires as I word his until he doesn't know the difference. I like the idea of mind control, clouding his consciousness with the entrancing sensation of acceptance and vulnerability, showing your wounds and having them kissed, showing your quietness and having someone being loud for you.

Kissing at his lower back as I keep stroking him through his orgasm, he cries against his hands as I don't stop after he cums, overwhelming him and making his bigger body shake next to my smaller one as I keep getting even faster, slamming my hand against his hips over and over again as hard as I can and much harder than he can take as he starts screaming into the pillow.

"That's it... Shhh... just take it baby, all you have to do is simply take it."

"I know you don't like it, but that doesn't matter... Keep crying for me, that just makes me go harder, you know I love seeing your pretty tears..."

"Doesn't it feel good to be small for once? Feels so familiar, doesn't it? You know this is your place."

"It's cute you try so hard to convince yourself and everyone otherwise, but in the end, we both know who owns you, slut."

"Mmmffffp! Fuck-hnmm.. Mmm-ahh.. you-aahh... Ahn... Mngh-ph! Uhmn. Ah. Nnnf. A-a-ahh...y-you... You own-uhmn! Y-you own me. Mmmm-mmh. Nnmm..."

"Good whore."

The comfort he gets from me breaking his shell and letting him want things without the judgement everyone including himself puts him through, is equal to how fucking wet I am from hearing him screaming and knowing the only person he's ever gonna look at with those pretty teary eyes, pleasing me with his cute voice to kiss him after feeling brave enough to be extra vulnerable for a second. Is me.

[rafayelsbelovedbride]

Dragons and scapegoats

I made a post a while ago comparing Philos/Earth/Lemuria to Omelas here. And now that Sylus has his myths too, let me continue.

Special thanks to @ourlittleuluru for giving me more reason to talk about him. I was just going to reblog it with your tags but it got too long. So here it is~

While my expectations about the myths were way off for Sylus, I think, he still fits this theme really well. Because, yes, he was the child in the basement, and he was the scapegoat, along with all the dragons.

When humans first arrived in the past days of Philos, they probably came to this place to escape the wanderer-infested Earth and find a place where they could live a peaceful life. Maybe the public was told Philos would be a nice little utopic place where people could live without fearing for their lives. But they were sold a lie. What they found when they arrived at Philos was a dying planet where dragons ruled, with a hollow core that was falling apart into pieces. It was just fragmented landmasses slowly drifting apart as described in Xavier's anecdotes.

So, wouldn't the public be outraged? Defeated. Betrayed. Drained. Drained, because they still have to fight for their lives. Betrayed, because they were scammed out of a better future. Defeated, because there is no such thing as heaven, only a different hell.

So, of course, to prevent the public from turning against them, the people who brought humanity to Philos had to find someone to blame.

A perfect scapegoat. A scapegoat that can hold a mirror to all of humanity's twisted desires and yet still be blamed for it.

Dragons, the harbinger of war and conflict. Dragons, that could bring the darkest parts of one's soul to light. Of course, they're to blame. After all, anyone would prefer to say, it was not me who had these evil, heinous thoughts, my soul was corrupted by a dragon. No need to take responsibility for my wicked nature, the dragon made me do it.

So, they declared war on dragons, promising a better future once again. They killed every single one of the dragon-kind until there was only one of them left. Now, the last dragon cannot be killed. If all dragons were dead, then there would be no scapegoat. One of them must be kept locked in the basement to remind us all he's responsible for every evil in this world. We are not just locking a little child into the basement, we are locking the evil away.

So they made a spectacle out of the last dragon's demise and sealed him into the abyss with a claymore in his chest. A violent end for a vicious dragon. A constant reminder to all humanity to keep their souls untainted by desire. Of course, a puppet without a want is the easiest to control after all.

But, now, enough time has passed. Maybe the public is growing restless and no one really cares about the child in the basement anymore. So, the moment they find a puppet with a single desire, they frame her too. And burn her dragon. Burn her sympathy for the locked child.

And that's how it begins. For MC's and Sylus's story, they're both the scapegoats. And for their story, MC is the one who broke the child free out of the basement and brought doomsday to Philos. With Sylus, we take a closer look at the story from the child's perspective rather than the savior's, who set the child free.

And, we see that even freeing the child and destroying the people responsible for his imprisonment does not guarantee a happy ending. He is still a dragon who is destined to ruin anything he loves and everything he desires.

And, maybe that was the reason why he let himself be trapped by the sacred judicator in the first place. Sylus never accepted his identity as a dragon. He hated it. He fooled himself into thinking he was just like other humans, and cut up his horns every time they grow until he was a bloody mess. Maybe, that young dragon, while soldiers were chasing him with their swords, thought that this was what he deserved. Happiness and being satisfied with what he has is just not in his nature. That day, he was defeated not by an army of humans, but by his own hatred against himself.

So, loving her, with his own soul etched in hers, meant accepting his own nature. And maybe, that was how he actually broke free out of his chains. That's when he saw himself not as a scapegoat for humanity's sins, but as a lonely dragon who deserved this love he received.

At the beginning of the story, he did not try to break free from his chains until MC found him, he did not seek revenge unless MC asked for it. But by the end, he broke free when was imprisoned and burned down every city to the ground. By the end, he seeked MC when she was about to be executed and willingly fell into their trap. Only this time he did not accept his end because he hated himself, but he accepted it to save his beloved who owns half his soul. That was a sacrifice he made in the name of love, all with selflessness, while accepting his flawed nature. And that's how he broke free of the dragon's curse at the same time he escaped his fate to become a scapegoat for the people of Philos.

And I really love the current Sylus. He still longs for human connection just like his younger self. But his desire to connect does not bring self-hatred anymore. Instead, he rides the subway, takes the twins under his wings, and goes to karaoke with MC's coworkers.

Maybe, he feels at peace now. I hope he does.

He's reunited with the owner of his soul. And even if everyone blames him for what's wrong in this world, he has no desire to let them have their way. He will escape the space-time prison and chase MC to the ends of the worlds.

So, he will get the ending he actually deserves this time with his beloved by his side.