#rip I'm out of commission for now

[screwpinecaprice]

They won the lottery and inspired by Mr. Greg, they spent it all in one day by committing identity fraud.

Idk I took a second job and my brain is so fried right now. 😭

[storytellering]

HIII I JUST SAW YOUR BJD! And wanted to know what doll you got, what body and head? What size is that cutie? I love the big eyes and the faceup you got

AA thank you anon!!! He's a Simply Meant To Be Dohwee! I saw that sculpt going around a couple years ago and I immediately fell in love with it, like from the very second I knew I wanted one to make into a Nero doll 😭 sadly he's currently discontinued, though emailing Obscure_kind (the sculptor) sometimes results them in doing special one off orders! I got mine secondhand, I happened to have a bit of extra money at just the right time someone was selling theirs for a very good price and I just couldn't pass the opportunity haha! He's a tall MSD - around 48cm I believe, and since he's a bit more mature proportioned than most MSDs, clothes can fit him a bit weird - sleeves and pants meant for MSD are just a bit too short, and tops tend to be a bit tight around his chest/shoulder area, but other than that it all fits fine! I get most of his tops in small SD size anyway since I want them oversized lol. And thank you so much on the faceup and eyes! I'm still VERY rusty when it comes to faceups, I do plan on converting two of my older dolls into DV but I'm too intimidated to wipe them and redo their faces since I used to be so good at it and now it's like I'm still re-learning from scratch 😭 but it was my first ever attempt at making eyes and I'm very happy with how they came out! far from perfect but close enough to what I wanted that I'm happy with it unless I decide to try again and have a much better outcome haha.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Pollen and Pheromones

Kinktober Day 13: Sex Pollen

Male Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, sex pollen, aphrodisiac, pheromones, knotting, biting, claiming bite, stranded, spaceship crash, sci-fi, outer space, alien planet, a/b/o dynamics, bigotry/prejudice against omegas, rivalry, breeding, general yandere behavior, tsundere, betrayal Word Count: 1.6k (Enjoy this kinktober meal I have prepared <3)

"Star log: This is Pilot 2418 currently operating vessel Starlion: Orion. I am currently on route to pass the threshold of our galaxy in less than five minutes."

You were a shuttle pilot, one of the Exploration Guild's best. Ever since humanity had achieved interplanetary travel, they had sought to extend themselves ever further. With the new drift-space drives, that dream was now a reality.

They were only currently suited for small 1 to 2 man shuttlecraft, and only a couple such craft had been made. Two different ones had been commissioned through the guild, with both pilots competing to see who could exit the Milky Way first. The new drive could only be used in bursts to prevent overloading, so the journey had still taken a few months. But it seemed like you were about to succeed. Then you could make a U-turn and start drift-jumping back towards the nearest station.

Since you were an omega, this was a great achievement, a notice to the universe that your kind could do whatever betas and alphas could. You would be able to help stamp out the lingering bigotry and inspire others all with one action.

You were just about to cross the finish line!

Suddenly, your opponent, Tetsunori, came out of drift-space behind you. He had been your long-time rival, with both of you being about equally skilled.

But this was unacceptable to him as he was an alpha and held to the knothead mindset that an omega's place was bouncing on an alpha's prick or maybe in a teaching or nursing job.

You weren't worried, though. You had a solid lead. There was no way he could close the gap.

You rolled your eyes at the incoming transmission.

"Why don't you just give up now? If you surrender nicely, I'll let you celebrate my victory by letting you keep my knot warm!"

The temptation to reply was too great.

"Ha! You may be good at navigating the stars, but I doubt you have ever found your way into an omega."

Conversing with him hadn't distracted you or made you pause, so he growled as he switched to another plan. He fired on his tractor beam.

What the fuck, was he insane? Stooping so low to make sure you couldn't have a historic moment? You fired an equal and opposite tractor beam through his, which forced him to disengage. Something only possible because both ships were similar in size and energy output. Did he think you were some amateur?

In a desperate bid to prevent you from winning, Tetsunori rammed his shuttle into yours.

This type of bumping wasn't unheard of. It wasn't lethal if both ships were similar and had their shields up. But the bouncing was pretty strong for both parties, which is why it was a last-ditch effort. It could push you past the line, or it could bump him further. Neither of those things happened, though.

Instead, you careened right into the gravitational pull off a planet. You did everything you could to slow down and stabilize, but nothing seemed to be working.

Tetsunori sped after you in his spacecraft as he spoke into the comm link.

"I'm sorry, oh my god, I'm so sorry! I just had to be first! What omega would want to be mates with someone who they bested??"

You didn't have time for his weird ass confession and barely registered it. Your shields were still online and he had started pulsing his tractor beam to slow you down, full usage of it at such speeds could rip your ship apart, thankfully he wasn't an amateur either and knew that.

You put all available power and quickly put it into overloading the shields. You hit the emergency crash button, and two nozzles came out from the sides of the cockpit and sprayed you with a rapidly drying foam that would reduce damage to you if you got flung about the ship. Tetsunori's reckless and speedy entry into the atmosphere may have been enough to save you, but he had lost control of his vessel as well.

As you crashed, he careened away and crash-landed as well.

It was a good thing the high-tech impact reduction foam was so effective. Despite having shields, the ship was still shaken pretty badly, and the inertial dampeners weren't powerful enough to thwart damage from such a landing.

You took stock of the condition of your systems.

Almost everything was fried. You could at least scan the planet. It seemed like you had actually lucked out. In the entire galaxy planets that supported life were incredibly rare. But you had landed on one.

It seemed there were no known biological hazards present. No recognized toxins, dangerous bacteria, or viral agents. You were cleared to remove your suit. The temporary foam had started to dissolve, so it wasn't hard to remove.

The scanner also indicated there was a strong human life sign. It appeared that Tetsunori was okay.

You took the survival kit from underneath your seat as well as some beverages and rations you had procured at the last station and headed in the direction of dust and smoke in the distance.

You didn't even need the ship's scanner to tell you that the great imbecile, Tetsunori had landed there.

As you got closer, you stepped into a field of flowers that surrounded the entire crash site. You were probably still a mile away, but all around you were odd glittery silver and gold flowers.

The smell of them made you just slightly lightheaded and tingly. You realized the tiniest bit of slick was dribbling down your leg. They must be an aphrodisiac. The scanner hadn't warned you of anything in the air that was truly dangerous, so it probably wouldn't matter very much. And it really didn't. For you. As you trudged through the flowers and pollen, the effects did not get worse.

But for Tetsunori, the pollen was much stronger. When it hit his nostrils, it immediately put him into rut. Not a typical rut either, one of the ruts you see in pornos where the alpha is almost feral and unable to control their mating drive. When you came upon him, he was sitting on a piece of debris from his shit and rocking back and forth in clear distress. Through his outfit, his bulge was immediately visible.

"T-tetsunori? Uh... are you okay? D-did you get hurt in the crash?"

You took a step back when he looked up at you. His eyes were red, giving him a demonic appearance.

"The flowers, I think... they... UGH! My thoughts are all jumbled..."

He started to rub and massage his crotch desperately. He finally caught a whiff of your scent, ripe from the recent hike over to him and from being without a proper shower since your last space station stop. Not to mention the smell of the slick the aphrodisiac had coaxed out of you.

He started wildly sniffing at the air.

"Y-you smell so nice. You can help!"

You started backing away slowly.

"Uh... help with what?"

He got up and closed the difference between the two of you. Sweat had his dark hair clinging to his head. He was significantly taller and looked down at you intensely before sniffing and licking your neck with lazy broad strokes.

"S-smell so gooood. Always wanted to knot youuuu~"

You tried to push him off.

"Tetsunori! St-stop!"

You slapped, smacked, kicked, punched, and flailed, but nothing you did deterred him in the slightest.

"I'm sorry, but I fucking n-need this!"

He pinned you to the ground, clawing and biting off all your clothing until only your underwear was left, he removed it more delicately before inhaling its scent deeply and putting it in his pocket for later.

"Please don't do this, Tetsunori, PLEASE!"

He looked down at you, and it seemed like he was genuinely trying to resist before the pollen-charged rut won out.

Tetsunori unzipped his pants and let his drooling cock and full heavy balls out.

"G-gonna put all my babies in you! Have to! Have to!"

The lust-drunk alpha wasted no more time in ramming into you, an insertion that would have been more difficult had the pollen not slicked you up. Though it was still sudden and slightly painful.

"A-aaah!"

You tried to kick at him, but he growled viciously before pushing you into a mating press and slobbering all over your neck with his eager tongue.

The pollen must have increased the potency of his pheromones, or at least your susceptibility to them, because his musk was starting to cloud your thoughts.

Your grunts of pain became gasps of pleasure as your body quickly accommodated to his large size. You winced as he bit down hard on your neck to claim you. He kept right on fucking into you without skipping a beat.

He licked and kissed the lightly bleeding bite mark, some part of him remembering to comfort you despite his dominating need to fill you with cock. And by that point, the last of your resistance finally melted away.

"T-tetsunoriiiiii~" You moaned as your toes curled and body twitched in orgasm.

He growled your name in response and gave a few hard, deep thrusts before cumming as deeply as possible.

A comforting fullness filled your hole as his knot locked the two of you together. He pulled you close as he sat down so that you were in his lap facing him. The two of you caught your breath, then remained in an awkward silence until his knot deflated.

"G-got it out of your system?"

"Yeah... for the most part... sorry about that..."

You lifted yourself off of his lap, his half hard cock springing free with a lewd plopping sound.

"Well... it wasn't your fault. It was just the pollen..."

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back into his lap, his cock ramming directly into you, then began humping.

"Well... it wasn't just the pollen..."

[prael]

WYR-0573: Dirty Little Student Wang Yiren And Her Sexy Secret Camgirl Life Tempts Horny Teacher Into Rough Fuck and Creampie!

Everglow Yiren x male reader smut

Thankyou @co-reborn for allowing me to spiritually succeed this fic (Everyone read it if you haven't already.)

Masterlist word count: 4,221 Kofi(donations/commissions)

It seems like everything these days is a fucking ethics issue. It's not like you're trying to do anything that's going to hurt somebody. You're not ripping off old people, you're not laundering money, you're not putting lives at risk.

Shit, it's just a bit of fun, but if anyone finds out you've had your cock inside Wang Yiren, then the ethics committee is going to eat you alive. It doesn't matter if she wants your cock in there just as badly as you do.

You have to get creative to make it work. First thing is first: get her out of your office. Sure, it's not unusual for a student to take some office time with her thesis advisor, but walking out in the state she does? Her cheeks flushed, and her blouse dishevelled, with a slight, satisfied smile on her face and her panties stuffed into the front pocket of her backpack.

People are going to notice, and that can't happen.

There's a part of you that wishes you could make it stop outright, but you can't. Every time she uploads another one of those videos, your eyes are locked to your computer screen and your cock's locked in your hand.

Maybe it's the novelty of knowing that the girl on the camera's not just any other girl on the internet; it's perhaps the fact that she's the girl that you've had inside your office. Maybe it's that her body's incredible; her tits are small and pert, her ass tight, and that little slit of a pussy is just begging to be fucked.

Or maybe, it's how openly she will sit across from you at your desk and ask you so casually what you thought of her latest video with the same sort of inflection that a student would use to ask you about the latest reading. "I wasn't really sure if the whole clamping my nipples thing worked. I mean, it was kinda hot, I guess. And I got off pretty hard, so there's that. What'd you think?"

What do you think?

You're a good guy—a good professor—so you give her honest feedback, "I thought it was hot, Yiren, but it took a while for you to get into it. Was that your first time? Playing with your nipples that way?"

"Mhm." You can see the little smirk curl up on her face, "I was hoping it wasn't obvious that I was nervous. It's tough getting started with some new kinks, you know?"

It's a strange little world the two of you inhabit. On the surface, it's the relationship of a graduate student to her thesis advisor: a mutually respectful relationship based on academic mentorship and intellectual discourse. Under the surface, it's the sort of thing that gets both of you expelled: the sort of relationship that's built on her need for you to see her get off in front of her webcam and your need for her to keep uploading videos.

But as you look at her now, you think about what she's doing. She's a twenty-something grad student who gets her rocks off by playing with herself on camera for thousands of strangers on the internet. It makes her hot. It makes her cum. And you're only too happy to be there for her. It makes you hot, it makes you cum, and there's a bit of you that feels a sense of pride knowing that even though the whole world gets to see what her face looks like when she climaxes, only you have managed to fuck her to one.

"Don't get me wrong, Yiren. It was hot. I'm sure everyone got off to it."

There's a slight cockiness to her smirk—she already knew it to be true. "And you?"

"Do you really need to ask every time?" you reply.

"Mm. Yes," she leans back on the chair in front of your desk and raises one leg over the armrest. "I like to know that you liked what I put out."

You don't miss a beat, and the words come out as casually as if you were critiquing an assignment: "I jerked myself raw, Yiren."

"I'm glad," her fingers are tracing little lines down the inside of her thighs. You lean in closer, elbows against the desk. "What part did it for you?"

"Yiren, I know what you're doing."

She starts to pull up the hem of her skirt while flashing you faux innocence with her blinking eyes. "What's that, Sir?"

"Seriously. We can't. Not here."

"I'm just showing you, Sir," her skirt is around her waist now. She's not even trying to hide her desire. Her pussy's wet. Glistening. "Looking for a little feedback. Was it my pussy? My fingers? How wet I was?"

You want to grab her, throw her onto the desk, and fuck her until the entire floor hears her scream. You want to feel your cock sink inside of her pussy, feel your skin slap against hers, feel the wetness of her desire as you thrust into her. But that would be the end of everything. "You're killing me here, Yiren."

"You know, people keep asking for more stuff with a guy. I could put it on pay-per-view, make a killing." She runs her fingers along her slit and you hear that soft little moan that's driven so many guys to bust on their keyboards. "What'd you think about that, Sir?"

You're starting to breathe hard. It doesn't matter that you've fucked this girl before. All you know is that you can't have her now. And she knows that drives you nuts.

Her finger's on her clit now and she's rubbing in circles. Her head tilts back slightly, her mouth parts, and you know she's going to cum right here if you let her go on. "Yiren," your voice is almost hoarse.

Her finger is a blur, and her voice is a half-moan, "Mm, Sir?"

"You're going to get us in trouble."

"I think I'm worth the trouble." Her chest's heaving. She's going to go off any second. "Sir," her eyes look straight at yours and there's something about that direct stare that sends a shiver through you, "Are you hard?"

You nod. There's not much else to do.

She takes her hands away from herself, leaving her pussy on the edge. You know that it's aching, throbbing. She bites her lip and stares at the growing bulge in your pants. "Maybe you can show me how you jerked yourself off the other day."

"Yiren. Fuck. Not here."

"Then where?" She snaps, clasping her legs closed and pushing her skirt back over them, "You won't do anything in your office. You won't take me home. Where, then, huh? Maybe I should just go to the headmaster and tell her what you—"

She doesn't finish that sentence. Your hand is gripping her arm tightly as you yank her up off her seat, "Come with me."

You lead her down the hallway. She's struggling, but she's grinning too. She knows she's getting her way.

Your eyes dart from left to right. It's late and the chances of running into anyone is pretty low, but still, there's always the chance.

"Sir, what's the deal?" she's laughing now. "What's your plan?"

"I don't have one."

It doesn't matter. You've been in the same spot before with her. She's been begging for it, you can't do it in your office, and you need someplace quiet, someplace private, someplace where the two of you can be alone for a while.

You lead her to the parking lot and she realizes your plan. Her voice is almost mocking. "Sir, that's not exactly original, you know. A parking lot? Your car?"

"It'll do, Yiren." Your voice is firm, almost angry, and she's eating it up—you know what gets her going. "And maybe it's a bit clichéd, but we won't have any of these pesky problems of you being too loud and giving us away." You stop her at the passenger door to your sedan, lean her against the car and press yourself against her. "And trust me, you will be too loud, Yiren."

She grins up at you. She likes the sound of that. "What're we doing here, Sir? I thought you didn't want to fuck me anymore. Not after last time."

"I never said that." Your fingers run down her side and you feel the familiar thrill of touching her again, feeling her body under your fingers. "I said no more fucking in my office, Yiren," you slide your hand over her ass. "So we're here." You lean down and kiss her, and she moans as her body leans into you.

She pulls away from the kiss, panting, "But, Sir, you know what else I want." You feel her fingers reach down and run across the bulge in your pants, and her breath catches. "Mm. I want this. I want to film you, Sir. I want to film this."

It's a bad idea, you know. The riskiest of ideas. You can see her in your mind's eye: the way her face looks when she's cumming, when she's biting her lip to hold in the scream, the way her body shudders, and her eyes shut tight, the way that she gasps for air afterwards. You want her to be able to share that with the world, to get her off by getting the world off. "Fine."

"Seriously?" She looks at you in disbelief, but you've already opened the door and nudged her inside. She climbs in and crawls to the other end, tossing her purse in the front seat after she pulls out her phone. "It's not ideal but it'll have to work." You're on her in an instant, pulling her skirt up around her waist, pushing her down against the seats, kissing her, and sliding your fingers into her.

She squeals, then gasps, and then giggles as you thrust your fingers in and out of her pussy. "Mm, Sir," her moans are punctuated by each thrust of your fingers, "Fuck. Wait. I haven't even got my phone set up yet. Fuck. Wait."

You slow, just a little, just enough, then you concede and pull out. You know she wants it, needs it. You watch her hands shake as she rushes to set the phone up, she's got it in selfie mode and it's the best she can do.

"The lighting's all wrong, but who cares, right? They're here to watch you fuck me. They don't care about lighting." She's talking to herself as much as to you, but you know how she is. You know that she wants you to play along.

"Let's show them how pretty you are, Yiren." You pull out your fingers, then press your palms against her legs, pushing them apart and sliding in closer between them. You watch as she tries to hold the camera steady. Her breaths are shallow. "Show them what your pussy looks like." She turns the camera down and focuses it on her pussy. She spreads herself for the camera, showing her audience her soft pink pussy. She's so wet, you can't wait to feel her on your cock, feel that heat, that wetness, and that tightness.

"God," you groan. You've watched her videos so many times, but seeing it up close and in the flesh is always different. You run your fingers down the inside of her thigh until they brush her pussy lips, and you spread her wide. Her hips buck slightly and you watch the juices of her desire drip down the crack of her ass. You push your fingers into her, and you feel the warmth of her insides. She cries out, "Mmf! Oh god."

You take it slow. She's filming it all. You want this video to be hot. You pull out your fingers, then push them in, watching the wetness cling to them as you thrust them in and out of her pussy. "Fuck, Sir. Oh god." You curl your fingers up and press your fingertip against the spot you've learned to find. You feel the rough skin against your finger and you press into it. Her head tilts back, her eyes shut tight, and you watch as her body shudders. You push your finger harder against it, rub it, and her moans get louder.

You pull your fingers out, then push them in, slowly, rhythmically. She whines, but you don't give in. "Tell the audience how it feels, Yiren." You're teasing her now. She doesn't want you to go slow. You know she's aching for more.

"Feels so fucking good." She pants, holding the camera steady. "God, Sir. Don't stop."

"Why?"

"Mm." She whines, and you can hear that she's on the edge, "Feels so good, Sir. Your fingers feel so good in my pussy." You pull your fingers out of her, then press the palm of your hands against her thighs and spread her wider.

You take your time. Your fingers brush down the length of her pussy, from her clit down to the juices on her asshole, and you press against that tight little pucker. She gasps and you hear her moan. You press your fingers against her hole, feeling it tense and tighten against your fingers.

She lets out a sharp, shocked whine as you tease her asshole and you can't take it any longer. She knows just what you want. You lean down and press your lips against her clit, and you hear her squeal as you lick her clit. You suck her clit, tasting the juices that flow from her, and you feel her body tense up. She's so close. You pull yourself away from her and grin up at her.

She's panting hard, staring up at you. "God. I need you to fuck me." Her voice is a whine, a needy whine. You can hear her desperation.

"I know you do, Yiren," you reply, unbuckling your pants. You pull your cock free and stroke yourself a few times as she stares down at you. "I know how much you want this."

She nods, her mouth open and panting. "So much. God, please fuck me with that." You press your cockhead against her pussy, rubbing it between her lips. "Fuck, Sir, please. I love a big hard cock in my tight pussy."

You grin and whisper, "Tell them what you need, Yiren."

She looks right into the camera, "Please fuck me, Sir. I need you to fuck my pussy. I need to feel you stretch me wide. Fuck, Sir. Fuck me." She's begging and her breath is a desperate pant. "Please, I'm so wet. I want to cum with your cock inside of me. I need to."

You press yourself against her entrance, just enough to push her open, then you pull away and watch her cunt quiver at your touch. You can tell she wants to be taken, needs to be fucked hard and fast, and she knows you can give it to her.

You push your hips forward and thrust your cock into her, and you watch her pussy open and spread for you. "Fuck," she cries, her hands trembling, but you don't slow down. You thrust hard, pulling her hips into you, and you slam your cock deep into her.

"God, your pussy feels so good." Your fingers grip tight on her thighs, spreading her wide as you pound into her, and her cries fill the car.

She tries to keep the phone steady, filming you thrust into her. She can barely keep herself together. You can see the camera shaking, "In his fucking car. You hear that? He couldn't even wait to get me home. He needed to fuck me. He spends all day watching me in class, thinking all these dirty little thoughts about me, and then he just can't take it anymore and he fucks me right in the parking lot. And you know what? I'm gonna fucking cum because of him."

You're going hard and fast and she's so fucking tight. You can hear her moaning and groaning with every thrust, and her pussy is clenching around you. You can tell she's on the edge, her pussy is trembling around you, and she's screaming for more. You know that the video is probably a mess, a shaky, poorly framed mess of her tits shaking, her face pulling the dirtiest of expressions and her pussy getting fucked.

Her words are getting more erratic. She can barely keep it together, so you snatch it from her hand, record the way you thrust into her, how your balls slap against her cunt. She moans louder when you do and you realize she likes that you're the one recording her.

The camera pans up to her face. You want to see her cum. You want to film it. "Cum, Yiren." Your voice is loud and commanding. "Cum on my cock. Let them see you cum on your teacher's cock."

Her hands are above her head, grasping at the leather seats. Her back arches beneath you and her head is thrown back, pressing into the very same upholstery that her fingers do. Her hips shudder and you feel her insides squeeze around your shaft as she cries out, "Fuck!" The sound of your flesh slapping into her flesh fills the car, and she's a writhing, whimpering, cumming mess as you pound her through her orgasm.

You keep filming as you reach down, and with one hand, rip open the buttons of her shirt. Three of them come flying off, pinging around the car and leaving a lopsided mess of fabric and bra that exposes the flesh of one of her pert tits. It doesn't take long before your hand is gripping her breast, pinching at her nipple, tugging at her flesh as you keep pounding into her.

Yiren gets the message, pulling the rest open on her own and pulling down her bra, exposing both tits. Her fingers are on her own nipple, tugging at it and pinching. You watch the way she teases herself, the way her body reacts, and the way she's still shivering from her orgasm. She's a mess and you love seeing her that way.

If there's something painfully obvious from her videos, it's that one is never enough. So Yiren doesn't even need to ask, you're already guiding her onto her knees and then pushing her forward so her face is against the glass. "Show them your ass, Yiren."

You hold the camera in your hand and record the image of her reaching back and pulling her skirt over her hips, exposing her bare ass and pussy to you. You record as she reaches back and spreads her cheeks for the camera, letting her fingers pull apart her wet pussy and letting your audience see that tight, puckered asshole.

"Sir," you watch her face pressed against the window. Her breath leaves an opaque cloud against the cold glass, "How does my ass look?" You can't help it, your free hand comes crashing down against her skin and you watch it ripple under your palm. "Oh!"

You grin at her reaction, "You look like a naughty little girl who needs a good spanking."

"Oh, Sir," she moans, "What did I do?"

You slap her ass again, and again, watching it redden under your hand. "Such a naughty little girl. Making a mess in my office." You're slapping her again, watching her ass jiggle and turn pink.

Yiren whimpers, "I did. I was so naughty."

"What did you do, Yiren?"

"I was so fucking wet. I couldn't stop touching myself."

"Why were you wet?" You spank her again and you watch as her hips press back into you, "Tell your viewers what made you so wet that you needed to touch yourself."

"I needed you." Yiren's panting hard, her voice a needy moan, "God, I need you to fuck me. I was thinking about your cock. How good it felt when you fucked my pussy. I wanted you to fuck my pussy again."

You push her forward, letting her hands come down against the foggy glass. Her ass is up in the air and you're pressing your cock against her pussy. She's still wet from her cum and it takes no effort at all to thrust deep into her.

You're so deep in her wet folds. Her soft embrace is warm, tight, and you feel yourself slide deep inside of her, and you watch as her face twists and contorts in pleasure, in desire.

"Show them what they're doing to you, Yiren. Show them how they make you feel." You pull the phone up to her face, filming her moans, her cries, the faces she makes as you fuck her. "You like it when they watch, don't you? You like it when I fuck you like this and they have to watch."

She's panting, moaning, and nodding. Her hips press back into you as you pound into her and you watch her ass ripple and bounce with each thrust.

You reach around and grab her tie. She always wears it loose, but it's still enough to pull it up tight against her throat, pull her back into you. You wrap it twice around your hand and it yanks her up straight, her body against your chest. She's panting hard as her hands come up and try to claw at the tie around her throat.

She can't stop moaning, crying, and she can barely breathe, and you watch as she struggles to hold on, her head tilting back and resting on your shoulder. You film her as she struggles to hold it together. She can barely keep her eyes open and her voice comes out as a desperate, choked moan.

You let go of the tie, and it unravels in your hand. You watch her slump forward and her hands come down to the seat. Her face presses into the leather and she's whimpering. "You're such a good girl, Yiren." You press yourself deep inside her and grind your hips against hers, "Such a good girl for taking my cock."

She groans, "Thank you." She's still pushing back against you and her eyes are shut tight. "Thank you, Sir."

"Good girls get a treat, don't they?" You grin and you run your fingers against her asshole. "I bet you like a nice treat for being such a good girl."

Her breath hitches, and her eyes flutter, "Please, Sir."

You press your finger against her hole, and she pushes her ass back, and you feel her ass relax and open for your finger. Her tight asshole squeezes your finger tight and you hear her moan, and her pussy clenches your cock. "Fuck."

"Oh god, Sir," she moans. She's a needy, whining little mess, "Please cum in me."

Her words are like music to your ears. Her body is trembling under you, and she's moaning for you to cum. Her words are so desperate. She's begging, and you can't resist. Your hand is gripping her ass, with a finger slipped inside, and you pound into her, feeling her tight, wet cunt squeeze around you.

"Fuck, Sir, please," she begs. "Breed your favourite little student. Fill her up with your cum." She's crying out, her voice echoing inside the car.

Your hips shudder as you thrust deep into her and feel your balls clench, you can't take any more, and your cock is pulsing, throbbing, and your cum is filling her, flooding her insides, and her ass is trembling around your finger. Your chest is heaving, and your heart is pounding, and you can barely breathe. She's still pushing her ass back against your hand and her body is shivering with every pulse of cum that your cock pumps into her. You keep thrusting, feeling her pussy tighten and milk your cock.

When it's all over, you watch as she slowly pulls away from you, and you see the thick white seed drip from her hole and onto her thighs. She sits back on her knees and looks right into the camera. Her chest is flushed and heaving. Her hair's a mess, and her shirt's hanging open. Her makeup's running and there are tears on her cheek. But there's a satisfied look on her face.

She's grinning from ear to ear and you can't help but grin along with her. "That," she pants, still trying to catch her breath, "is how I get a good grade in class." Her words are followed with a giggle and then she leans forward and shuts off the camera. Her hand finds the back of your neck and she pulls you into a kiss. Her lips are hungry and her tongue presses into your mouth. Your hand wraps around her head, and your fingers get tangled in her hair as you pull her closer and deeper into you.

She pulls away, a smile on her face, and a twinkle in her eye, "You're a natural, you know. You really know what they want. Makes sense, you are one of them."

"Thanks." You laugh. You can't help but notice that her hand's between her legs, rubbing and stroking. She's unsatiable.

"Sir? Since I'm such a good student, does it mean you'll take me home and fuck me in your bed?"

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

NEXT

The very beginning of my billford comic! YAAAY!!!

Ford, the local loner, being called out for being a loner. Rip.

...

I literally put this on Patreon a MONTH ago. I procrastinated on sharing this here for a while, not on purpose, but because stuff kept coming up. First prepping for the con, doing the con, and now, post-con depression 🫠 BUT I'm doing better now! And I'm excited to share this!

Long term plan for this comic... it's gonna be pre-portal incident, friends to lovers billford. Sorta like my take on massively reading between the lines of book of bill + journal 3. I've got a lot outlined, and as of right now, I'm working at a snails pace. And to be honest, I'm kinda just flying by the seat of my pants. Idk where this is gonna go. (don't even have a friggin name for this thing yet!! AAAH!!!!) As ever, I'm always working on the commissions I have lined up, as well as my animation project. So this is just one more thing I'm chipping away at when I want to, for fun. So this isn't on a schedule or anything, although I'd like to be consistent with it! One thing I know for sure, I'm putting updates on patreon first, and leaving them there for at least one week before sharing them elsewhere. (Shameless Patreon plug!!!!!!!!)

Ok enough ramblin' from me :') BYE BYE TIME TO POST THE NEXT BIT

[teaboot]

Yo, no hate, I totally get the confusion!

From the perspective of someone who isn't in the arts, this would seem pretty dumb, yeah? Offering someone money for work they already did, on a picture I already have access to, thay I could just ask someone to do on me for free, right?

Well, there are a few reasons:

As an artist myself, I know how hard it is to make a career out of art. Nobody wants to hire you, those who DO don't want to pay you, and it's so, so easy to have your ideas ripped off or stolen. I believe that by giving money to artists I appreciate, I can help them continue to exist and continue creating more.

I'm benefiting from their work. I love their art, and I want it on my body, and they put work into creating it, so shouldn't I compensate them? It'd be kind of unfair for them to put blood sweat and tears into a piece on for me to walk in and go, "mine now", right? If I hired the tattoo artist to design something for me, it would cost money. So why is it fair to rob the tattoo artist AND the original artist so I can save a buck? I've just cheated two different professionals.

By asking the original artist if it's okay to get their work, and if they'd like to charge for it, I'm giving them control over their own creations. Maybe it's a personal piece. Maybe it was a commission for someone else who doesn't want matching tattoos with an internet stranger. I'm letting them choose to say what happens to the art that they've made, and in an era of the internet and pinterest and AI theft, that's not something we all get to have anymore.

TL/DR: Asking permission and offering payment is a gesture of appreciation and respect that grants an artist the dignity and bargaining power they need to survive in an increasingly hostile environment.

Or,

Failing to adequately compensate individual artists and craftsmen for their labour has directly to the death of art and craft at large.

[ffsg0jo]

warnings: fem reader, insecure reader, chubby reader, drinking, self-deprecating thoughts, really awkward flirting, aizawa is whipped and doesnt know how to act, not proofread - inspired by this post by @/mintmatcha

fics for gaza commissions

They're laughing again.

The guys sat at the table across the room, kept glancing over in your direction, only to immediately look away when you noticed, going back to tittering amongst themselves.

They're laughing at you.

Your cheeks heat up, and you pointedly try not to look sideways in their direction, but the self-sabotaging part of your brain keeps urging you to look back. To make you suffer even more.

Staring at your drink, you try to take your mind off it by focusing on your friend's story; her words are drowned out by a sharp laugh, joined by more and loud clapping sounds.

Suddenly, everyone's laughing, and you can't breathe. The tight-fitting dress you're wearing is torturous, and your hands itched to rip it off. Why did you choose something that clung to you like a second skin? You wanted to unzip yourself out of the dress and out of your body, too.

Eyes catching onto your phone, you see your reflection on the screen, and you hated your friends. You felt bitter at the fact that they let you, encouraged you even, to go out wearing such a tight dress.

They convinced you it highlighted your 'curves' and brought out your features and that you looked good. And you felt good too, before you stepped into the club and felt their stares and heard their laughter.

(There's a small part of your brain telling you they did it on purpose.)

The laughter plateaus, and you realise your friend has stopped talking. You follow her eyes to see her looking past you, to the man that's just sat down on the barstool beside you.

Your breath hitches at his rugged beauty, his dark shaggy hair and somewhat scruffy stubble. You look away when he catches your eyes, but not before he shoots you a smirk over the rim of his glass.

Shame curls into your stomach and settles deep within your gut.

Your friend beside you slightly nudges you, whispering at you to make conversation with the man. 'He's so clearly into you'. In response to her words, you only let out a small laugh, shaking your head and fiddling with your fingers.

The man next to you finishes off his drink in one go and then leans into your field of vision.

"Can I buy you a drink?" He says, his voice tugging at the shame in your gut. Had you looked up at him a second earlier, you would've noticed the way his eyes hungrily ran over your body, having to finish his drink for some courage.

You figured it was some kind of joke, or he was just trying to get you to introduce him to your friend. There's no way a man like him would want someone like you.

You hesitated, and your friend jumped in for you.

"She'd love one," she said loudly, facing him with a smile. Your friend throws you a wink and then leaves you at the bar to go dance with your other friends. You so desperately wanted her to come back.

The man returns his gaze to you once more and frowns, noticing the look on your face.

"Do you want me to introduce you to her?" You asked him, disheartened, misunderstanding his frown. You expected this, even though every fibre of your body so badly wanted him to be interested in you. You knew it was unlikely.

"No, I was hoping to get to know you and buy you a drink. But if I'm making you uncomfortable, I can leave?"

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He seemed sincere, but something in the back of your head was nagging at you, telling you he's lying and he's mocking you.

Ignoring the voice you decided to be brave.

"No it's fine, I'd love a drink."

The man smiles slightly and calls a bartender over. You both wait in a slightly uncomfortable silence for your drinks.

"Oh shit, Aizawa," he says, breaking the silence suddenly as your eyes snap to look at him. "My name." He adds on sheepishly.

Now that you've calmed down a little, you realise he looks nervous, a blush colouring his cheeks at his little outburst. You smile at him more sincerely, giving him your name.

Aizawa tastes your name on his tongue, repeating it out loud, and your body flushes the shame and insecurity out. You both go quiet once more, the silence a lot more comfortable this time.

"I'm sorry," he says, holding his drink that was placed down in front of him moments ago. "I haven't done this in a while, and not with anyone as beautiful as you."

You pause, not knowing what to say, and as you open your mouth to say something, anything, he speaks again.

"Your dress is gorgeous, by the way. I like it a lot. I like you a lot."

A slight laugh escapes your lips, and your face heats up once more, only this time the thoughts in your head remain silent.

"I uhh, like your hair. A lot. And your shoes are nice," you don't know why you added that last part. You didn't even see what shoes Aizawa was wearing. It was as though your brain disconnected from your mouth at his compliment, and any nonsense started coming out.

Aizawa breathes out a laugh and leans closer to you. You feel his breath fan your face, and you wonder what his stubble would feel like against your cheeks, your neck, your stomach, and-

"I know a place not too far from here. They have really good kebabs, do you wanna join me?" He asks, wondering if it's too soon.

It'd only been 10 or 15 minutes since he had sat next to you, but you were itching to get out of the bar. You nodded immediately, grateful for the out. A smile graces your face. You had a good feeling about Aizawa.

Your stomach rumbled, and you both laughed. A kebab sounded good right about now.

(Aizawa was somewhat in disbelief that you, an angel, had wanted to go out with him. He moved off his chair and held his hand out to you, holding your hand in his as you both moved to the exit.

The bartender, however, stops him, calling out after him, telling him he forgot to pay his tab. Aizawa looks at you sheepishly and tells you to wait outside. He walks back in shame, apologising to the bartender, and pays for his drinks.

Coming back to your side, he gently takes hold of your your hand. You both look at eachother for a couple of seconds, you trying to stifle laughter at what just occurred.

Laughter filled the air as you walked to the kebab shop.)

© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.

[dollfacefantasy]

past the limit ♡

chris redfield x fem!reader ft. leon kennedy

you decide to act up when your boyfriend has a friend over, and he has no problem punishing you right in front of him.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, spanking, daddy kink/ddlg, fingering, orgasm denial, praise/degradation, voyeurism/exhibitionism, marking (skin turning red)

a/n: commissioned by the lovely @skirt-russell. thank you again so so much <3

Chris nods along as Leon goes over the little points on the papers laid out across the kitchen counter. He was trying to focus. Leon had gone out of his way to stop by the house tonight just to go over some of the D.S.O's restructuring plans that might affect the BSAA.

Normally, he'd have no issue focusing on this. It was work, and when Chris was in work mode, it was hard to break that stone-faced concentration that overtook him. But today you were in a pissy mood. You'd been in one all day, giving attitude and rolling your eyes. Now you were sulking on the couch in the living room, watching some trashy tv show at a volume way louder than necessary.

So now Chris was in a pissy mood.

It was visible to Leon with how the older man kept glancing over his shoulder, as if that would telepathically communicate to you the need to get it together. The blond smirks at his friend's obvious displeasure.

"Trouble in paradise?" he asks with a small smirk.

Chris's eyes dart back to him. A bit of annoyance gnaws at him. He knows it was an innocuous comment, but it was just another reminder of your defiance; the fact that you were testing him, in front of someone else no less.

"Something like that," he grumbles.

He tries to get back to the topic of conversation, but the idea of you having some sort of perceived advantage feels like chafing between his thighs. He lets Leon finish one more sentence before he interjects.

"Just give me one second," he tells the other man before turning away and heading to the door that leads to the room just off the kitchen. He takes barely a step inside, only enough to get a look at you.

"Think you could turn that down, baby?" he says.

You don't even turn your head before shooting it down and saying "No. I'm watching it."

"How about watching it quieter?" he suggests, his tone growing clipped.

"How about you and your friend talk louder?" you retort.

A sharp exhale comes from his nostrils before he heads further into the room. He's much closer now, in a position to actually look down on you.

"How about," he starts, speaking firmly now and leaving no room for argument, "You go to the bedroom and watch it on the tv in there?"

"I was here first," you say flatly.

You still don't even look up at him, and he swears he can literally feel his blood pressure rising. His eyes feel hot and his limbs taut with irritation.

"I don't have time for petulant games. Move upstairs or turn the tv off," he says. The tone of his voice is commanding now, one he takes on when it's absolutely his way. When it's time for you to do as he says or receive punishment. You had the safeword, of course. It was there for you if you ever needed this to stay grounded. But this was exactly what you were looking for, wasn't it?

"No," you shrug. Now you do look up at him, and stare into his eyes like you can laser holes into them.

"Get your ass to bed. No tv at all now. I'm done playing with you, and I won't tell you again," he seethes. You can tell he's still reigning in his anger a bit, staying quiet to keep this conflict between the two of you.

"I won't tell you again. Fuck off," you spit.

And that's it. You'd hit the bullseye. Your boyfriend's eyes blaze with fury. Before you know it, his large fist is curled around your bicep, and you're yanked to your feet. He takes your spot on the couch and flings you face-down over his lap. One arm keeps you pinned there as he shuts off the tv.

You whine and kick your feet, but he's not having it. You don't even get a warning smack like usual. He goes straight for the waistband of your sweats and practically rips them off of you. Once your cheeks are exposed, his palm comes crashing down hard, a slap echoing through the room.

"What did you say to me, little brat?" he says before landing another lash, "You want to repeat that?"

All you can do in response is yelp at the stinging heat that radiates through your ass. Your head droops for a moment, but you stay strong and keep it up as best you can.

"What's that?" he taunts. Another slap rings out. "C'mon tell me what I heard come from that dirty mouth."

He smacks you again, ripping the words from your throat.

"I said fuck off," you whimper. You were already starting to regret your antics from how much your backside ached only a handful of hits in.

Once you repeat the words, the hardest lick yet rains down on your sore ass. You mewl and jerk your feet, but it's of no use.

"That's what I thought you said," he says. His voice is so cold it nearly sends a chill through you. "I thought you told me to fuck off, but I couldn't believe it. My baby girl would never talk to her daddy that way. She'd never say something like that to the man who takes care of her."

Oh god, the guilt. If there was one thing that made Chris the perfect candidate to have control of you, it was the way he could zip between intimidating you into submission and prodding at your emotions with ease. He continues lecturing before you get the chance to speak.

"My baby gets fussy sometimes, sure. But she'd never say something so blatantly disrespectful. Especially not with daddy's friend here," he chides.

"I'm sorry," you pout, giving him an inch.

"Oh you will be when I'm done with you. Save your apologies for now," he says.

Smack!

"Daddy, please," you whine, "I didn't mean it. I just wasn't thinking."

"Hush. I know you weren't thinking. That's obvious," he tuts, "That's not an excuse. Not one I'll accept. Thinking or not, you were behaving like a silly brat, and you know how I handle silly brats. You want to play games, you don't complain when you get your prize."

His palm tingles a bit itself from how hard he smacks you this time. You howl in pain, and he gives you another two quick slaps to drown it into whimpers.

"Quiet down. You know Leon can hear how bad you're being. He knows what's going on in here, that you're getting your naughty ass spanked by daddy," he taunts, "He knows what a needy, spoiled little girl you are."

As if on cue, Leon's head pokes through the living room door.

"Everything ok in here?" he asks. His tone is innocent enough, but you know in reality, he's asking Chris for permission to observe. Leon knew the kinds of things you and Chris got up to in your private life thanks to a couple nights when you got way too drunk and way too comfortable sharing things with him. Also Chris may have let it slip once or twice while bragging about you, but who's to say? Regardless, Leon knew, and he was interested.

Chris was fine with his interest, enjoyed it even. It felt good being admired. The thought of Leon having the two of you in the back of his mind riled him up more than he'd ever admit.

"Everything's fine. She decided to be a little mouthy, so I had to remind her how she's supposed to behave," Chris says as if it's the most casual thing in the world, "Come on in."

You feel your cheeks heating up, and you try to hide your face against Chris's hip out of instinct. He doesn't allow you that privilege though. He shifts you over his knee and tugs you back into place by your jaw as Leon heads over to a nearby chair.

"Daddy..." you whimper. A quiet plea for mercy. However, if you really needed mercy, you could call out that exact word, and it would all stop. You didn't though, so deep down, Chris knew you wanted this.

"What, sweetheart? You scared of daddy's friend all the sudden? You didn't seem so scared earlier, acting out when you knew he was here."

"It's different," you pout.

"You don't gotta worry, princess. Just act like I'm not even here. It's just you and your daddy," Leon adds, leaning back and getting comfortable. The mocking was clear in his voice, and the way he said 'your daddy' made your stomach twist in the most sickeningly erotic way.

"I tried to give you a warning, babydoll. Tried to give you a chance to be dealt with later. But words didn't work. You kept going, so now you're gonna take your punishment like a big girl."

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Three brutal hits land in the center of your butt. You shriek and buck your hips, but Chris has you held down nice and secure. You're not getting anywhere. 

Your pussy throbs between your thighs, both from the spanking and the extra set of eyes on you. You know you'll be dripping by the time this ends. You just have to last till then you remind yourself. You just had to take the punishment, and then daddy would play with you like always.

"Such a bad girl, and it's a shame because she's usually so good," he says, shaking his head, "I might be getting too soft on her."

"No, daddy," you whimper, "I'm sorry. It's not your fault. I was being dumb."

He switches from spanking you to rubbing your cheeks, massaging the soon-to-be bruised skin. You can feel his eyes on you along with Leon's. Both watch you with condescending lust.

"Yeah? You think you're really sorry now?" he asks.

"I am. I won't do it again," you sniffle.

He pops each cheek once, admiring how your glowing flesh jiggles. His hand then returns to rubbing the skin when he hears your whine grow in desperation. Leon watches on with interest.

Chris hums as if he has to think your previous words over. His warm, heavy hand continues to rub soothing circles on your ass. The silence is killer, waiting for the result even worse. But you get it soon enough when he gives you a final hard, searing smack.

"I think you have had enough," he agrees, "You just needed some attention, hm? Just needed daddy to make those bad, bratty feelings go away, yeah?"

His other hand pets your head and allows you to lean into the touch. You nod along to his words. A sigh leaves you. Finally you could get to the good part. His hand slides from the swell of your bottom and nudges your thighs open. The pads of his fingertips coast over the damp fabric of your underwear.

"You think you deserve this, baby?" he asks, "You think you deserve daddy's touch after being so disobedient."

"I don't know..." The words come out soft and uncertain. It felt like a trick question, saying yes would get you in trouble but relenting to the possibility that you didn't deserve this could mean he'd take it away.

"You don't know? You were so sure of yourself earlier," he mocks.

Leon chuckles from his seat, and your head feels as though it's engulfed by the heat of humiliation. You whimper as your eyes cast down which only amuses the other man more.

"You're lucky daddy can't keep his hands off you when your ass is all cute and red like this," he says.

His digits press down on your pussy harder over the thin fabric between your thighs, drawing a mewl from between your lips. He works the thick appendages under the sticky cloth and swipes them through the gleaming slick there.

"Such a nasty little girl. Getting all wet when you're supposed to be thinking about what you did wrong," he says.

"I am thinking, daddy. Promise," you whimper. "I just-"

Before you can finish that thought, pinches your clit. Your words die by the sword of your own moan. Your hips jerk over his knee. Muted laughs come from both him and Leon. His middle finger begins to circle and tease the sweet little bud.

"Hit that button, and your brain just turns off, isn't that right, honey?" Chris coos, his voice dripping with mockery.

But you don't care about that. You were still getting what you craved. Leon and him could make fun of you as much as they wanted as long as you got your pretty little pussy played with.

"Mhm," you hum.

"Good girl. Maybe I should do this anytime one of daddy's friends is gonna come over," he says, "What do you think Leon?"

The D.S.O. agent perks up and shifts in his chair from where he had been passively palming himself. "I think that's a good idea," he agrees, "Sticking a vibrator on her little cunt would keep her in line the whole time."

Another moan floats from your lips upon hearing that. At the same time, Chris had started stroking your bundle of nerves directly. His digit flicks over it and massages at the tingling pleasure blooming from that spot.

"You like that, sweetheart? That what you need to be a good girl?" he prompts.

You nod. His fingers glide through your arousal to teasingly dip into your entrance. They don't stay there though. They drift upwards again and return to stimulating your clit alone. It's still enough to get you close, so you don't protest.

Your thighs vibrate with the impending release. You clutch at his thigh and try to hold still as best you can.

"Getting close, pretty baby?" he coos and twirls a little figure eight on your pulsing nub.

"Yeah, daddy," you whimper.

"So precious," he mutters and keeps up his efforts.

The pleasure blooms in your tummy. You can feel yourself approaching the high. Everything grows soft and hazy. Your fingers dig into his jeans as his stroke you into bliss.

"Daddy, I'm gonna cum," you whine.

But as soon as you utter that phrase, he takes it all away.

In seconds, his hand leaves the warmth of your center. He pushes your legs closed again, lightly patting your ass and boosting you onto the wobbly limbs. You feel like you're gonna collapse. Looking at him with confused urgency, you whimper and reach for him.

He grabs your hands and kisses the palms before chuckling. "You didn't think you'd get to cum, did you? That wouldn't be a very good punishment."

Your lip quivers with the intense desire to protest, but you knew he wouldn't budge. Leon laughs slightly at your dilemma. You shoot him a glare for it but then groan and stamp your foot, deciding not to complain.

"That's my girl," Chris praises. He rubs your hip bone and presses a kiss to one of your stinging cheeks. "You head up to bed. You need to rest after getting that sweet ass spanked raw. I'll be up there in a little bit."

You nod and look down, doing some sort of inverse walk of shame.

"Oh, and baby?" he calls before you can actually leave the room.

"Yeah?" you ask, turning to give him a hopeful look.

"Ever pull some shit like that again, and you'll be right back over my knee."

[disaster-writer]

Can we get another hawks in heat please? I'm obsessed 😍 😩

Ty for the request!

Warnings: Non-con, forced breeding

-

This wasn’t supposed to happen yet.

He had at least another week.

Hawks had barreled into a closed office space within the Hero Public Safety Commission’s building, desperate to get out of the hallway before anyone noticed the increasingly dire state he had found himself in.

Sweat beaded along his hairline and the nape of his neck, as his heart pounded within his chest. That familiar tingling sensation overtook his body, knocking him to his knees as he held onto the doorknob desperately.

He was already finding himself growing hard within the confines of his pants.

He had always been so careful this time of year, so why was this happening now.

”Um— Are you okay?”

His entire body went stiff, right down to each and every feather of his wings.

He hadn’t been thinking clearly.

He had stumbled into an already occupied office. 

And what was worse was the fact that the voice was very obviously female.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He screwed his eyes shut, knowing that if he even chanced a glance at the woman behind him it’d be over for the both of you.

“H-Hawks?”

His cock jumped at the sound of his name tumbling from your lips. His wings had opened, stretching widely at the same time, pulling a yelp from you as he knocked something over— something he couldn’t even be bother to look at.

”Do you need help?” Your frenzied voice trembled, utterly confused at the display that had found itself in your office space so suddenly. “Should I call someone?”

He hadn’t realized you had slipped beneath a wing and kneeled beside him until a gentle palm was placing itself on his shoulder.

The touch made his eyes shoot open, blown out pupils landing on the young, pretty woman beside him, staring at him with the utmost concern.

His feathers were vibrating, sending shooting tingles down his wings and across his sensitive back.

He vaguely recognized you, seeing you walking around the building before. But he had to admit he was more familiar with the tights and skirts you wore that hugged your thighs so perfectly he had found himself fantasizing about what was underneath on more than one occasion.

His wings twitched and fluttered, making you yelp in surprise, now staring at them in slight worry.

The new angle exposed your soft neck to his prying eyes and he couldn’t help but follow the tendon that poked out down to your collarbones and down your blouse.

You were perfect.

Soft and sweet— he could already imagine you growing nice and round as you carried his baby. Your breasts would grow heavy with milk— maybe you’d even let him taste—

He was pinning you to the ground in a swift motion, caging you in with those large, twitchy wings that had startled you.

You stared up at him with surprise and… fear. But he knew once he stuffed you full of his cum you’d be sweet and sated, begging him for more in a matter of minutes.

”W-what are you— hey!” You shrieked as his hands slipped under your skirt and ripped your tights in half. “No— Stop.” You tried to scramble backwards, but your back bumped into those wings of his, acting as a wall.

You looked frantically around for a way out but as his arms hooked around your thighs and yanked you back down to him, you realized you were trapped.

Nothing could have prepared you for the thick cock that bullied its way into your dry pussy. 

He watched your body stiffen as you clawed at the ground, your mouth falling open in a silent scream, struggling to suck in any air as he fed each inch into your tight walls.

His balls felt so full and heavy that he was going to lose it if he waited a second longer to fill your womb, and he found himself pulling back and driving his hips forward over and over again until he was fucking you the way the mother of his future child deserved.

Hawks had always been so careful to make sure he was home and isolated whenever this carnal urge came over him every Spring.

He was beginning to wonder why he bothered.

[liz-on-leash]

Taken

STAYC Isa × Multiple Guys

[Commissioned]

No warning, read at your own risk!

4,040 Words

The evening air was a stark contrast to the energetic atmosphere inside the rehearsal studio, and Isa welcomed the cool breeze on her flushed skin as she stepped outside. 

Her heart, still racing from the intense dance routine, now quickened for a different reason as she noticed a van parked across the street, its engine idling. 

A sense of unease crept up her spine, but she brushed it off, attributing it to post-performance jitters.

As Isa strolled towards the alley, hoping to find a quiet spot to gather her thoughts, the van's side door slid open, and four men emerged with lightning speed. 

Two of them were tall and muscular with dark skin, their eyes glowing with an unsettling intensity. The other two, pale-skinned with sharp features, had a feral look about them.

"Gotcha, you teasing slut!" one of the black men stated, his deep voice cutting through the night.

Isa's scream was cut short as a meaty hand clamped over her mouth, while another arm wrapped around her waist, lifting her off the ground. 

She kicked and struggled, her small frame no match for their brute strength. The white men joined in, their rough hands groping her thighs, leaving red fingerprints on her pale skin.

"Help... Someone..." Isa whimpered, her voice muffled by the strong hand.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch!" The other black man delivered a brutal punch to her stomach, causing her to double over and retch. 

The man holding her released his grip on her mouth, only to replace it with a drugged cloth, forcing her to inhale the potent chemical.

“Breathe it in, you fucking tease," one of the white men hissed, his hot breath on her neck sending shivers of terror down her spine.

Isa's limbs grew heavy as the drug took effect, but her mind remained alert, aware of the horror unfolding. She felt herself being thrown into the van, her head hitting the metal floor with a sickening thud. The world spun as the men climbed in, their laughter filling the confined space.

"Look at this pretty thing, all drugged up and helpless," one of the black men said, his deep voice laced with cruel amusement. "Let's have some fun, baby."

Isa's eyes widened as she saw the men's faces contorting with lust. The black men, with their powerful builds, loomed over her, while the white men crawled closer.

"These thighs though..." The other white man reached out and squeezed her thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. "So thick and milky, holy fuck."

Isa let out a pained moan as his nails scratched down her sensitive skin, leaving trails of fire. The black man nearest to her face grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back.

"You're gonna take what we give ya, you hear?" he snarled, his breath washing over her face. "Scream all you want, ain't nobody comin' to save ya."

Her cries were muffled by the rough hand covering her mouth, as the other black man ripped at her clothes, tearing the fabric away from her body. The white men joined in, their hands rough and relentless, leaving her naked and vulnerable.

"Oh, she's a feisty one," one man remarked as Isa kicked out, her legs flailing in a desperate attempt to fend them off.

A heavy boot connected with her thigh, making her scream into the hand covering her mouth. "That's for trying to fight back, ya stupid bitch."

Isa's body jerked with each brutal impact, her legs becoming their primary target. The men took turns raining slaps and squeezes on her thighs, their laughter filling the van as they reveled in her pain.

"Please don't hurt me… I'm s-sorry..." she begged although she did nothing wrong.

"Shut her up, I can't stand that whining," a tattooed white man said, grabbing a length of duct tape and roughly covering her mouth, securing her cries of agony.

The van came to a screeching halt, and Isa's body slid across the floor, leaving a trail of sweat behind. The men's excitement grew as they reached their destination, their hands moving with renewed fervor over her trembling form.

"This is just the beginning, sweet Isa," a black man whispered, sending shivers of fear through her drugged body. "You're gonna learn to love every second of this ride."

The van doors flung open, revealing a desolate industrial area, bathed in the eerie glow of a single streetlight. Isa's dazed eyes struggled to focus as one black dude loomed over her.

"You won't be singing those sweet songs anymore, bitch," he spat, ripping the tape from her mouth with a cruel smile. 

The sudden pain made Isa cry out, only to be silenced by a stinging slap across her cheek, leaving her reeling. 

As she struggled to regain her senses, her eyes widened in horror as the same man unzipped his pants, releasing a monstrous black cock. It was thick and veiny, its size rivaling the width of her forearm. 

Her breath hitched as he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You will take this down your pretty throat, and you better not bite," he warned. "Gonna fuck that mouth and ruin it for anyone else."

Before Isa could process his words, the other black man grabbed her from behind, his strong arms wrapping around her, holding her in place. “No, let me, ugh, go…” 

She felt the cold, hard length of the cock pressing against her lips, and despite her efforts to resist, it forced its way in, stretching her mouth painfully.

Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth as the black cock invaded, her eyes wide with shock. The man behind her held her head in a vice-like grip, allowing his friend to thrust forward, driving his cock down her throat. 

She gagged and choked, her eyes watering as she struggled for breath.

"Look at her go," the man behind her laughed. "She's loving it, can't get enough of that black dick!"

Isa's eyes rolled back as he withdrew only to thrust again, each push sending his cock deeper, triggering her gag reflex. 

Her throat burned and her nose ran as he face-fucked her with abandon, his balls almost slapping against her chin with each forward.

The two remaining men held her arms and legs, their hands digging into her tender flesh, leaving extra bruises that would serve as reminders of this night. They laughed, their voices echoing in her throbbing head.

"She's such a good little cock-sucker, ain't she?" a white man taunted, his hand tightening on her thigh.

The man fucking her throat grunted with pleasure, his hips moving at a relentless tempo. He pushed deeper, lowering himself until he was sitting on her face.

His cock bulged inside her throat, stretching her to the limit. Isa's eyes jutted out, her face turning red as she choked, her body convulsing in an attempt to breathe.

Snot and tears mixed on her face, her eyes pleading for mercy as she struggled against the men holding her down. The room spun, her vision blurring as she teetered on the edge of consciousness.

The white man holding her legs landed his eyes on the wet patch spreading between Isa's thighs. Licking his lip, he yanked her shorts down her thick thighs, exposing her glistening pussy lips. 

"Aw, look at that. She's so scared, she pissed herself. What a fucking mess."

Isa's body trembled, her shame compounded by the men's laughter and crude remarks. The man holding her legs ran his fingers through the wetness, smearing it across her sensitive skin.

"Bet that pussy tastes as sweet as she looks," he said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Might just have to find out.”

The black man on Isa’s face picked up his momentum, his hips snapping forward with increased urgency. Isa's throat constricted around his black cock, providing a tight, wet sheath for him to plow into deeper.

Each thrust sent shockwaves of pleasure through his body, his balls tightening with impending release. "Fuck, yeah, swallow it, slut!" he grunted, his eyes rolling back as he reveled in the sensation of her mouth and throat massaging his cock.

Isa's eyes watered, her vision blurred as she choked on his length, her body convulsing in a desperate attempt to draw breath. The man behind her held her head in a merciless grip, ensuring she couldn't escape the assault on her throat. 

The squelching slurping sounds of his cock pounding her face filled the van, mingling with her trembling muffled cries and the men's groans.

Meanwhile, the white man attending to her pussy grew bolder. He worked his fingers roughly along her slit, gathering her fluids before pushing a thick finger into her tight, virgin hole. 

Isa's body tensed, her legs straining against the man holding them as she groaned in surprise around the cock in her throat.

"Ah, she's so fucking tight," the man grunted. “Need to stretch this pussy until it's ready for our cocks."

He added another finger, scissoring them inside her, eliciting a strangled cry from Isa as he stretched her virgin walls, his rough nails scraping against her sensitive insides. 

Her body squirmed, her hips bucking involuntarily as he violated her with his fingers, preparing her for the impending penetration.

The second white man hugged Isa's leg to his chest, exposing her soft inner thigh. He rubbed his engorged cock along her smooth skin, his precum leaving a sticky trail.

His hand moved to her calf, squeezing and kneading before he bent down and licked a wet stripe along her calf, his hot tongue leaving a wet, sloppy imprint.

"Taste so good, I could eat you up, babe," he commented.

Isa's body shook, her pupils vanished as the black man above her buried his cock deep into her esophagus, holding himself there as he pumped his hot cum down her throat. 

Her airway completely blocked, she gagged and choked, her body convulsing as she struggled, her nails scratching at his thighs in a futile attempt to escape. The man's cock twitched, emptying his load, his pleasure heightened by her misery. 

As he pulled out, his cock sliding from her mouth with a wet, sucking sound, his thick cum spilled from her lips and nose.

Isa's body, overwhelmed by the assault on her senses, went into shock as she slumped limply, passing out with the taste of cum and the violation of fingers still fresh in her pussy.

The men grabbed her unconscious form and tossed her further into the abandoned brick building, her body landing with a sickening thud on the broken and dirty concrete floor, illuminated by a single flickering bulb.

The men’s eyes gleaming with lust and cruelty, were not satisfied with the extent of Isa's suffering. They wanted to push her to the brink, reveling in her pain and despair. 

One of the men, his eyes alight with sadistic glee, snatched a half-empty beer bottle from the corner of the dilapidated room and approached the trembling idol.

"Wake up, baby," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Time to join the party again."

Isa's body jerked as the cold liquid was poured down in her mouth, her abused throat burning as she choked and spluttered, gasping for air. Her eyes flew open, taking in the grinning faces of her captors, and the horror of her situation came crashing down on her.

Mustering what little strength she had left, Isa pushed herself onto her hands and knees, her body trembling violently. Her once pristine skin was now wounded and soiled, her hair a tangled mess, and her makeup streaked with tears and cum.

"Please... have mercy..." her voice rasp and raw from the abuse. "I can't take any more... I'll do anything, just let me go."

Her pleas were met with laughter and crude remarks, the men's desire only heightened by her vulnerable position.

"Look at you, on your knees, begging like a dog," one black man said, his deep voice laced with scorn. “You should know your place. You're our thing now."

Isa's eyes darted from one man to the next, her hands weakly attempting to cover her exposed tits and pussy, a futile effort to preserve some dignity.

"Please... I won't tell anyone... Just let me go..." she sobbed, her body shaking with the force of her tears. "I feel sick... I can't..."

Her words were cut off by a sharp kick to her side, sending her sprawling onto her stomach.

"Shut the fuck up with your begging!" the man who had face-fucked her spat, his eyes dark with rage. "I wanna see you suffer, bitch. We do whatever we want, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."

He stepped forward, his sole pressing down on the back of Isa's head, forcing her face into the dirty floor. "No! No! Please!" She struggled, her hands scrabbling at his foot, her screams echoing off the brick walls.

"Who's first?" a white man asked, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

"Don't matter," the black man who had stepped on her head replied, his voice calm but menacing. "We all gonna have our turns anyway. She's ours and she's gonna learn her fucking place soon enough."

The white man who had fingered Isa's pussy stepped forward, his thick cock jutting out proudly. "I will stretch her out nice and good for ya. She won't be walking straight after I'm done."

Isa's cries intensified as she realized there would be no escape, no mercy from these ruthless men. Her body, once a vessel for her art, was now a plaything for their darkest desires.

The first white man positioned himself behind Isa, his hands gripping her soft, round ass. He lifted her, aligning her with his throbbing cock, which stood rigid and swollen, eager to claim her. 

Isa's cries intensified as she begged for mercy, her head still pinned to the ground by the black man's boot.

"No! Get away— Ahhh!!!” she sobbed, her body trembling uncontrollably.

The second black man, not one to be left out of the action, climbed onto Isa's back. He twisted her arms behind her, bending them at an agonizing angle, causing her to scream in fresh pain, her saliva mixing with her tears on the dirty floor.

As the white man held her hips, his cock poised at her entrance, Isa's body tensed, every muscle screaming in protest. The head of his cock pushed past her tight pussy lips, stretching her, invading her most intimate canal. Her body vibrated, nausea rising as the trauma of her situation hit her anew.

The big white cock, relentless in its pursuit of pleasure, slid further inside, inch by inch. Isa's eyes rolled back, her mouth opening in a silent scream as her body tried to adjust to the invasion.

With each push, he sank deeper, his cockhead bumping against her cervix, arousing a fresh wave of pain. Isa's body shuddered with the force of his penetration, her muscles clenching involuntarily, providing a grippy, wet glove.

He gripped her hips, holding her in place as he began to pound into her, his balls kissing against her clit. Her pussy, and untouched, now molded around his cock, her inner walls gripping and massaging his length with each withdrawal and penetration.

"You like that, don't ya?" he growled, slapping her ass cheek hard, leaving a red imprint. "Bet you love getting fucked by a big white cock, you Asian slut. Scream for me, tell me how much you love it."

Isa's body shook with the force of his pounding, her breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Her arms, twisted painfully behind her, prevented her from forming coherent words, but the white man wasn't satisfied.

"Tell me, filthy bitch!" he demanded, his voice harsh as he slammed into her, his hips meeting hers with a violent rhythm.

Isa's mouth opened, her throat working as she tried to form words, but all that escaped was a pained, “It hurts… It hurts so much... Help me… everyone… manager-nim…”

"You're a stupid bitch, can't even give me what I want," he snapped. 

He drove into her angrily until he heaved and cummed inside her, his cock twitching as he filled her wounded pussy with his seed. Isa's body jerked with the force of his release, the burning sensation of his cum adding to the agony coursing through her.

He then pulled out, his spent cock slick and sticky with their mixed fluids, leaving Isa's weak body trembling on the hard floor.

The black man crouching on Isa’s back released her arms, letting them dangle by her sides. He positioned himself behind her, dropping to his knees and grasping her plump ass cheeks, pulling them apart to expose her tiny fluttering asshole. 

"Go on, bro, tear that ass up," urged the white dude who creampied her. "Show her who's in charge."

The black bastard leaned forward, his breath washing over Isa's exposed rosebud, making her tremble and whimper. He spat on her sensitive hole, the wetness dripping down her cleft.

The other black dude stepped off Isa's head, he grabbed a fistful of her matted hair, yanking her face up from the filthy floor. Tears streaked her cheeks, mixing with the dirt and smeared snot.

"You belong to us now, cunt," his foul breath washed over her face. "Say goodbye to your idol life, because from now on, you're our sex slave. And many more."

Isa's body shook with silent sobs, her eyes pleading, reflecting the shattered remnants of her former self.

"We ain't stopping till we've had our fill," he continued. "So, stop your whimpering and accept your new life as our bitch."

He delivered a sharp backhand across her mouth. "And don't play dumb, we know you understand every fucking word. You're gonna get bred daily, even when that belly of yours starts swelling. We would still fuck the baby out of you, got it?"

Isa's eyes widened in horror, her mind struggling to comprehend the endless violation they intended to subject her to.

The black man stepped aside, his work of breaking her spirit momentarily complete. In his place stepped another white degenerate, a length of cord dangling from his hand.

"My turn to loosen that throat of yours, baby," he announced, filled with anticipation.

Isa weakly shook her head, her eyes pleading for mercy, but the white dude yanked her hair, forcing her head back, exposing her throat, vulnerable and exposed.

With swift efficiency, he wrapped the cord around her slender neck before pulling the ends tight, cutting off her air supply. Isa's mouth fell open in a silent cry, her eyes bulging as she clawed at the cord digging her skin, her face turning blue.

Seizing the opportunity, he shoved his cock past her trembling lips, the head hitting the back of her throat instantly, triggering a violent gag reflex. He hissed in pleasure, his hips swaying, fucking her mouth as he maintained his grip on the cord.

Isa's body convulsed, her hands clawing at the cord - more like on her own neck in an attempt to hook her fingers into the cord as she stifled around his invading cock, her saliva mixing with her cries.

The white dude's cock invaded her throat, stretching her mouth wide, while the black bastard's thick shaft breached her tight asshole, tearing through her sphincter.

The cord around her neck tightened, cutting off her air supply, making the penetration even more severe and sickening.

Isa's sphincter screamed in protest as his thick cockhead forced its way past the resistant muscle, producing a scream that was instantly muffled by the cock pounding her throat. 

Her body stiffened, every muscle clenching as her ass was stretched to its limits, accommodating the brutal invasion.

The black man’s hips surged forward, driving his cock deeper into her bowels. "Feel it in your fucking guts, right?”

Isa's eyes rolled back, her vision tunneling as her body struggled. The white man's cock pumped in and out of her mouth, his thick shaft sliding past her gag reflex, hitting the back of her throat.

"Look at her, loving it, stupid cunt. Can't get enough of our cocks, can you?"

The black man's cock, now buried balls-deep in her ass, began pounding, his hips slamming against her bruised ass. Her insides burned and stretched, her sphincter clenching and unclenching involuntarily around his shaft.

"You're mine, bitch, screaming for my cock in that ass of yours.”

Isa's body trembled, her nerves curling as her consciousness threatened to slip away into the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness. The dual penetration, the choking cord, and the nonstop battering pushed her to the brink of endurance. 

Her hands fell limp, her fingers scraping the dirty floor, her face turning an alarming shade of blue, her eyes pleading silently for an end to the torment.

Sensing her distress, the white man released the cord, allowing her to gasp for air, her lungs heaving. But the respite was fleeting as his cock continued its assault on her face, his pace wild.

Her throat ached and abused, tears mixing with the sweat and filth on her face. Her body shamed her, leaking urine from her neglected pussy, the warm yellow liquid mixing with the dirt on the floor, a testament to her broken spirit.

"Fuck, she's pissing herself, can't handle our cocks," the white man laughed.

Isa's mind screamed for release, her body yearning for the sweet escape of death, the violation too much to bear. The men showed no mercy, their pleasure heightened by her suffering, their cocks throbbing as they claimed every inch of her.

Black man unleashed a torrent of thick cum deep into her ass, his hips jerking as he filled her ruined bowels with his seed. White man's cock twitched and pulsed before firing his load down her throat, his pelvic slamming into her face.

Isa's throat worked to expel the cum from her mouth, a mixture of gagging and retching as she struggled to breathe and swallow at the same time. 

Black man withdrew his spent cock from her ass, and the cum that had been bubbling at her stretched hole now leaked out, mixing with the filth she produced down her thighs.

Her body twitched and spasmed, her limbs splayed out like a dying fish, but the peace lived a second. The two remaining men, their hard cocks ticking, stepped forward.

"Time to double-stuff this K-pop cunt,"  white man suggested.

Isa's eyes widened in horror as she realized their intention. They positioned themselves, one at her ass and the other at her pussy, their cocks poised to invade her ravaged holes. 

White man at her ass lined up his thick shaft with her gaping hole, now slick with cum and blood, and thrust forward, his cock sliding into her with ease, stretching her anus once more. 

At the same time, the black man at her pussy plunged his cock into her swollen, cum-dried cunt, his length sliding past her battered canal with ruthless force. Isa's body arched, her back bowing as she screamed around the new cock in her gaping mouth.

"Won't let you pass out, bitch," one man said, bringing another a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "You have to keep awake for every second of the fun."

The needle pierced her skin, injecting the drug into her system, forcing her eyes open, her body alert despite the overwhelming exhaustion and pain.

Her ass and pussy were now gaping, stretched beyond recognition. Her asshole, red and raw, twitched with each pulse of the cock inside her, her sphincter loose and unresponsive. 

Her pussy, swollen and bruised, leaked cum and blood, her inner walls pummeled and bruised from the continuous pounding.

Time lost all meaning for Isa. Days bled into weeks, and weeks into months. Her life now revolved around the cocks that invaded her body, her once vibrant self reduced to a shell, existing solely to envelop their cocks.

The pain, once excruciating, had faded to a dull numbness, her body broken and desensitized. Her eyes, once full of life and hope, now held only darkness and despair as her body jerked and spasmed, a living testament to their cruelty.

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hey, a while back you did a bunch of Genshingirls walking in on their S/O with a body pillow of them. Why don’t we flip the script this time? S/O walks in to see the girls (or guys!) with a body pillow of *them*!

One character I do ask for is Bernadetta.

(Genshin Impact/FE3H) Furina, Ayaka, Yae, Shenhe, Kokomi, Bernadetta, Edelgard, and Marianne with a body pillow of their S/O

The implications of someone making a body pillow of yourself is both hilarious and terrifying.

Furina's eyes go wide once the door opens, leading her to rush something underneath the blanket seeing her S/O.

(S/O) "Hey, I'm ba-...Furina?"

She has her usual smug expression as she dramatically blew a kiss to them.

(Furina) "Ah, welcome back dear! I must say you are home far earlier than I expected!"

(S/O) "Is everything alright? You're sweating a lot."

(Furina) "Ah? This? I just summoned one of my little friends to cool me off is all!"

(S/O) "On our bed?"

...

S/O walked over to them and immediately put their hand on her forehead, stunning her for a moment.

(S/O) "Your face is burning hot! Jeez, no wonder you needed them. Let's get you a change of clothes-"

(Furina) "W-WAIT!"

S/O ripped off the blanket and saw themselves on a pillow, forcing them to make sure they weren't going insane.

Furina for her part was doing her best impression of a tomato, with her two fingers awkwardly tapping the blanket and doing everything in her power to not look them in the eyes.

(S/O) "Why do you...H-How...?!"

(Furina) "L-LISTEN! YOU WEREN'T HOME AND..."

Furina began pouting as she put the blanket up to her face, probably about to explode from embarassment.

S/O was flattered at least, but...who even gave this to her?

(S/O) "Where have you been hiding this whenever I have been home?"

(Furina) "...Closet."

Her muffled voice responded.

Ayaka felt that having a body pillow of her S/O felt so...strange.

It was so weird, who even has this kind of thing of their significant other?!

But...it was not too dissimilar from keeping a picture of them, so maybe....?

Ayaka hides the pillow from everyone, and not a single soul besides her knows about it.

Whenever she was missing them, Ayaka would hold onto the pillow, counting the days until S/O could return.

...Until her door slid open.

(S/O) "Surprise! I'm here early-"

Ayaka's absolutely mortified expression speaks for itself as its inches away from a picture of S/O, pasted onto the pillow.

The two said nothing as they kept unblinking eye contact.

(Ayaka) "...Please don't tell anyone about this."

Yae commissioned an artist that she knows to put S/O onto a pillow.

There was something similar going on with Ei, which gave her this idea to begin with.

Yae put the pillow right smack in the middle of the bedroom and waited for S/O's arrival that night.

She could already imagine their reaction, but why imagine it when you can just see it?

Finally, Yae could hear the door creak open, and her smirk increased tenfold.

(S/O) "Yae, I'm home. Hm, what's that on-"

Yae bursts out laughing when S/O pauses and their face scrunches up upon seeing themselves.

Wiping away a tear from her eye, she greets S/O.

(Yae) "Is something the matter, I thought you'd appreciate me always thinking of you."

(S/O) "Why is it so well drawn?"

(Yae) "I paid someone a substantial amount of Mora to get your likeliness down well, little one.~"

She starts laughing again seeing their exasperated sighing.

Shenhe was gifted a body pillow of S/O, strangely enough by Cloud Retainer.

(Cloud Retainer) "One believes that you would appreciate a reminder of your loved one in physical form. At least, that is what the Traveler has spoken."

And Shenhe not really knowing how ANY human interaction works, took it at face value as well.

After all, Shenhe does feel that strange longing in her heart for S/O, there was at least this nice picture of them to keep her satisfied until now.

S/O eventually comes home to find Shenhe hugging the pillow of themselves in the living room, making them do a double take.

(S/O) "...Shenhe?"

(Shenhe) "S/O. It's good to see you again."

Her eyes slightly narrow.

(Shenhe) "Is something wrong? Your expression is changed."

(S/O) "Is...that a pillow of myself?"

(Shenhe) "Yes. It was a gift from master."

S/O noticed how tightly Shenhe was holding onto the pillow, before they came in, and she proceeded to hug them just as tight.

(Shenhe) "It brings...some comfort when you are not here."

S/O sighed, but gave her a smile.

(S/O) "That's touching...in a weird way."

(Shenhe) "How is a pillow of you weird?"

(S/O) "Hoo boy..."

Kokomi's body pillow of S/O: +1000 Energy

It embarrasses her to no end that the pillow actually boosts her energy.

But if she couldn't cuddle with her S/O, then there was the next best thing!

At least, that was the plan until the real one walked into her hideaway.

(S/O) "Kokomi, I brought some sna-"

She was so tired that she didn't even notice them.

Kokomi has a soft smile, hugging the pillow of them tightly as her shoulders relaxed.

S/O walked up to Kokomi, unsure to call her name again or tap her in the shoulder.

Both would equally startle her, considering.

They would have to do neither, as Kokomi opened her eyes and saw them standing in front of her.

(Kokomi) "AAAGH?! S-S/O?!"

She quickly tried to hide the body pillow behind her before giving up and sighing.

(Kokomi) "I'm...s-sorry."

S/O gave her a smile before hugging her, letting her relax into their embrace.

All the while, respectfully not looking at themselves.

(S/O) "...How long have you had that pillow, Kokomi?"

(Kokomi) "Please don't tease me about that, dear."

Okay, even Bernadetta could admit that having a pillow of her boyfriend/girlfriend was weird.

But...it brought her comfort, and no one really entered her room anyway, so who cares?

It's not like anyone was gonna see it.

She holds onto the pillow like a lifeline, sighing in content.

(Bernadetta) "Oh, Pillow S/O, thank you for bringing me comfort in my times of need..."

(S/O) "...I don't do that?"

(Bernadetta) "Of course you do! Like nothing el-"

She realized that it spoke up, and slowly turned behind her.

(S/O) "...H-Hi."

Bernadetta was completely frozen in place, eyes widened in absolute terror.

(S/O) "Please tell me you didn't get Ignatz to draw that for you-"

(Bernadetta) "I-IT WAS A GIFT, I SWEAR!"

(S/O) "I'm...not sure that's any better, sweetie..."

It was absolutely disgraceful to Edelgard to have a pillow of her S/O!

The Emperor of Adrestia needs to have more tact than...whatever the hell this was.

But at the same time...she didn't have the heart to throw it away.

She instead keeps it, but WELL out of sight of anyone that could find it.

Honestly, Edelgard would rather a thief find her gold than this pillow.

Unfortunately for her, someone worse found it.

(S/O) "Edelgard, is my clothes in the closet? I can't seem to find my jacket."

(Edelgard) "Hm? Oh yes, it should be-"

Her eyes shoot wide open as she quickly spins around, and rushes to the closet door.

She slammed it shut, giving S/O a panicked look.

(S/O) "WOAH! W-What's gotten int-"

(Edelgard) "B-BY THE EMPEROR'S DECREE, I FORBID YOU FROM OPENING THAT DOOR!"

As if on cue, the door instead fell over to the side from Edelgard's strength, and out flopped the body pillow of S/O onto the ground.

(S/O) "..."

(Edelgard) "..."

Marianne truthfully didn't even want this body pillow.

It was gifted to her by Raphael, and she couldn't say no.

The picture portraying S/O was tasteful and quite well drawn, but who keeps a picture of someone they love on a pillow?

It just felt extremely awkward, and Marianne did not want to deal with it.

She was in her room with Hilda, not sure what to do.

(Hilda) "Wow, okay that's kinda creepy. But sweet too, in a weird way!"

(Marianne) "I suppose, but it seems rude to throw it away if it's so well crafted."

(Hilda) "Iunno. Maybe hang it on a wall? It is a picture after all!"

The door to her bedroom opened, and both of them saw S/O enter.

(S/O) "Hey Mari-...Oh, Hilda! What are you doing in here?"

(Hilda) "Heya. Just trying to figure out what to do with this gift."

(S/O) "What gi-....Oh."

All three of them stared at the picture, unsure what to do.

(S/O) "Um...did you?-"

(Marianne) "I did not make this..."

(S/O) "O-Okay good..."

(Hilda) "Well whatever you guys decide to do, just don't let Claude se it!"

Marianne and S/O gave each other an awkward glance, putting it gently into their closet and deciding it'd be best to figure that out later.

They forgot about it, and Marianne gets jumpscared by the pillow of S/O sometimes.

A/N: OH MY GOOOOD IT'S SO NOSTALGIC WRITING FOR 3H AGAIN

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

A flock of elephants

Written for the November warm-up round of the @steddieholidaydrabbles

Prompt: Bakery AU

Rated: T

CW: some sexual tension and innuendo

Tags: Baker Steve, Rockstar Eddie

Notes: Can be read as a continuation of this microfic

“You don't understand how huge a deal this is, Steve,” Dustin says. He’s wiggling in the passenger seat, trying to take in every bit of their surroundings as they pull up to the concert hall. 

Steve huffs and squints at the signs. There's security and fans and staff everywhere and he can feel a headache coming up. 

"A guy asked me to bake a cake, so what? It's literally what I do for a living, nothing-" 

"A guy asked you to-" Dustin sputters. "Excuse me, what did you say? Eddie Munson commissioned you to bake a replica of his world famous Warlock, do you have any- Do you even know who Eddie Munson is?" 

"Of course I know," Steve grouses. "I don't live under a rock." 

"Oh yeah?" Dustin levels him with an unimpressed look. "Name one of his songs." 

"Please," Steve rolls his eyes. "You're blasting that shit on repeat, it's practically seared into my brain. Especially the one about the elephants." 

Dustin stares at him. Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose.

"You know the one! What was it? Flock of Elephants?" 

Dustin crumples into the car seat and slaps both palms to his forehead. "It's A Court of Sycophants, Steve! Oh my God!"

"Synchro-what?" Steve ignores the way his neck prickles and takes a sharp right. "You just made that up. Now help me look for the delivery entrance or we won't have ourselves a deal at all." 

*

Once they find the entrance, it turns out he forgot the ID badge that the label sent, because of fucking course he did. He spends about half an hour trying to convince the grumpy security guard to let them in while Dustin has a complete meltdown. Just as he's ready to give up, they're rescued by the appearance of a tiny blonde in a pink cardigan who cheerfully introduces herself as Eddie’s manager. 

"Sorry about Hop," she says for what must be the fourth time, while Steve sets up the guitar-shaped cake at the center of the buffet and Dustin inspects the backstage lounge with awestruck eyes. "He takes his job very seriously." 

"Yeah, I noticed," Steve mutters. She seems nice enough, but he really doesn’t wanna engage in smalltalk right now. The bustle of the stage hands and the hot air of the venue are making him squeamish. All he wants to do is get this over with and go home.

Unfortunately fate must hate him, because that is the exact moment that a familiar voice says, "Hey, Chris. No matter what Hop tells you, I didn't order hookers to the venue. I dunno where he got the-" 

Dustin starts squealing. 

"Oh my God, you're Eddie Munson!"

Eddie squints at him like a confused cat. 

"Last time I checked, yeah. And you are?" 

"Dustin," says Dustin, like that explains everything. "I'm with Steve." 

Eddie’s eyes flit over and his face breaks into a delighted, dimpled smile. 

"Baker boy, hi!" 

Steve's mouth goes dry. 

He doesn’t know why, but all of the easy confidence of their last meeting is suddenly gone. 

Maybe it's because they were in the bakery, on his own turf, and now they're on Eddie’s, where the lights and the noise and the hum of the crowd in the auditorium are grating on his nerves. 

Maybe it's because last time, Eddie looked like just some guy in his ripped jeans and ratty hoody, unwashed hair piled in a chaotic bun, and now …

… now he's in a pair of leather pants that are so tight they may as well be spray-painted on and what looks like a fucking harness, hair cascading around his face and shoulders in a halo of messy curls and is that eyeliner? 

"Woah," Eddie breathes, eyes growing large, and yup, eyeliner. Definitely eyeliner, Jesus fucking Christ. With two long strides of those impossibly long legs, he's beside Steve and ogling the cake with an awestruck face. "This is fucking incredible, dude, it looks just like the real thing. You did all that from the photos?" 

By some miracle, Steve manages to channel the incoming blush into a sly pop of his hips and a smug eyebrow quirk. 

"Told you I was the best." 

Eddie is looking at him like he didn't bake a cake but hung the moon, which … in combination with the eyeliner and the leather and the harness of it all? Steve squirms in his jeans.

"Okay, erm … if that's all, I'll send over the bill by-" 

"Wait, what? You're not staying for the show?" Eddie swivels to Chrissy, all righteous indignation. "Why are they not staying for the show?" 

Chrissy shrugs, at the same time that Steve says, "That's really not necessa-" 

"We'd love to stay!" 

Dustin shoves himself between them, elbowing him in the kidneys. While Steve is still coughing, Eddie turns to Chrissy. 

"Show the young man to the backstage area, Chris?" 

Dustin looks like he's about to die of happiness, so Steve resigns himself to his fate. 

"Will you play the one about the psychopaths?" he asks as they trail after him. "It's his favorite." 

"Psycho-" Eddie’s brow wrinkles.

"Sycophants, Steve!" Dustin hollers from ahead. "Jesus!" 

"Anyways," Steve says over Eddie’s rumbling laughter. "You really didn't have to-" 

"I know I didn't." Eddie accepts his guitar - the real one - from a stage hand and slings it over his shoulder. "But I saw what you're best at, so I figured I'd return the favor." 

"Careful there," Steve huffs. "All you've done is ogle my cake. You may wanna try it first." 

"Oh, I'm planning to …" Eddie's smile is sharp as he leans in, close to his ear. "Preferably with less people around, though." 

And then he's gone, stepping out on the stage, making his guitar wail. 

Steve can't quite tell if the roar in his ears is the crowd or the sound of his own blood.

[naffeclipse]

Argentate Bullet

Cryptid Hunter!Reader x Cryptid!Eclipse

Commission Info

I'm so excited to share this wonderful fic commissioned by @rosescarletful involving the cryptid hunter, cryptid Eclipse, and a night under the full moon. A monster lurks somewhere close! This is teeming with angst but such things make the hurt/comfort all the sweeter, I promise <3

Content Warning for angst, blood, body horror, and death.

———

In the dense woods outside of a small, rural town, you and your dear friend begin a hunt. A howl echoes and twigs crack. The silver light of the full moon mottles the forest floor as you follow Moon. His pale eyes flash red—he senses another human. The moment you step foot into a sparse clearing of half-dead meadow grass, your heart sinks.

A young man lies groaning in the darkness, curled up and cradling his chewed arm. Blood drips freely from mangled flesh and bitten sinew.

You should have been here sooner. The cryptid sighting suggested the violent nature of the monster as insatiable, senseless. A ceaseless need for bloodshed only spells ruin and grief for anyone caught in its path. You’ve handled werewolves before. They are perfect killers under the lustrous light of night. But they fall to silver.

Together, you and Moon help the young man to his feet. He babbles about a beast with fangs and yellow eyes. A horrible hunger growled within it. The monster snatched him from the road while he was peddling his bike at the late hour, and dragged him into the woods. Before it could finish him with a snap of its maw, it fled. He doesn’t know why. A sob escapes the young man.

You have no doubt the werewolf sensed the demonic cryptid using the animatronic as a vessel. Your dear friend has scared worse monsters.

You’re lucky you two arrived when you did, but you reassure him that he’s safe now. You set your gun loaded with an argentate bullet into the map pocket of your truck door. Leaning him against the driver’s seat, you quickly rummage for a basic first-aid kit—you curse yourself for not bringing more, but rarely do you find victims of cryptids alive after an encounter and you always endure long enough to reach your airstream.

“It’s going to be okay,” you promise. You hold yourself steady, hiding your fear at the blood seeping from the young man’s arm. He cradles it close to himself. “Can you tell me your name?”

Moon looms beside you, his eyes pale and flashing. He twitches. The end of his nightcap jerks slightly with the spasm of his faceplate.

“W-warren.” The young man swallows. His eyes shine wetly. The blood coating his ravaged arm gleams dark under the moonlight. “My wallet. I lost it by my bike. Please, I have pictures of my mom and dad in it. I need it.”

“Okay,” you soothe as you finally rip open a plastic red container. Bandages immediately roll to one side in your anxious search. “I’ll get it for you after we take you to the hospital. You’re bleeding badly.”

“Please, I need it now,” he gives a ragged gasp. He looks at you, desperation filling his shining gaze as his hands tremble, slick with blood.

Your heart squeezes within you at the familiarity of needing comfort in the height of terror. 

“Moon,” you say.

“It’s still out there,” Moon warns, his hand falling to your shoulder. His long silver and blue digits press into your collarbone. “It’s not safe.”

“I know, sweetie,” you face him. Though he stands much taller, you hold his wide, glowing gaze. “His bike can’t be far. Please, will you get it?”

He stares at you. A cool breeze blows before he releases your shoulder. 

“Be careful,” he warns, then slips around the truck and back onto the faded blacktop, disappearing around a bend following the forest’s edge.

You’ll thank him when he returns. Breathing a stabilizing sigh, you face Warren and ask for his arm. His eyes don’t meet yours for a moment. His attention follows the animatronic slipping into the darkness.

“It’s alright,” you say in a low, gentle voice. “Let me get you bandaged, and as soon as Moon returns, we’ll take you to get help.”

“W-who is that,” Warren asks shakily. His fingers writhe as you support his arm. 

“My friend,” you answer softly. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll take care of the scary thing. It won’t hurt you again.”

“Something isn’t right,” he whispers, terrified.

You lift your head. You fear he might pass out from the blood loss but you find his face turned towards the night sky. The moon hangs clearly in the black cosmos, big and looming like an omen.

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” You hurry to tie up the bandage already soaking in crimson.

“No. It hurts.” Warren pushes you away and doubles over, clutching his face and shouting, “It hurts! Stop!”

You step back, hands up, stunned. What did you do? Why is he—

A sickening crack of bone echoes within Warren. You start, horrified, then your mind races.

No, it’s pop culture to believe a werewolf bite transforms another. There has been nothing legitimate within your research to conclude that a bite would be infectious, nor that it would trigger a transformation on the very same night. A human can’t become a cryptid.

He can’t.

Warren groans until his agonized sound slips into a high keen. A vicious growl overtakes him and rattles through your chest despite the distance. Your eyes dart to the Winchester gun stowed away in the map pocket of your truck door.

“Warren,” you say, holding out a hand and stepping closer, “It’s going to be okay—”

“Get away!” he snarls inhumanly. He swipes at you with his hand, now elongated. It bursts with a coat of fur and bears long, wicked claws. You leap out of his reach but stand weaponless.

No. It can’t be.

Warren crumples to the dirt ground. On his hands and knees, his cries of agony lift into a feral howl while the rest of his body bends and breaks. You watch, rooted in horror, as his clothes rip under the bulking strain of his new form while black fur overruns his flesh. Thick, rugged sinew cords his body. His face snaps as his jaw elongates into a muzzle. A flash of yellow eyes pierces you through the darkness. 

“Warren,” you utter. You start slowly stepping towards the bed of your truck, seeking cover—anything to put between you and the newborn werewolf. Your hands are held out. You glance again at your gun but the young man stops howling. 

He slowly lifts his head, sharp ears pinned back against his skull. Lips pull over fangs. A horrid growl stops your heart.

The werewolf hunches low and slowly pads forward. A glinting maw spills saliva. You stare at the poor young man, your pulse racing in your ears. He straightens, towering upon you with hunger glowing within inhuman eyes upon hound-like legs. The moonlight covers him in pale gray.

He lunges. You dive, throwing yourself behind your truck only to catch a wicked snap of teeth inches from your feet. A sharp inhale. Your veins burn with adrenaline. You twist back to find the werewolf rounding back, widening his jaw. He reaches a long limb forward and hooks his claws on the bummer of your truck. Vicious talons rip down the edge of it. You scramble, kicking your legs and crawling backward in your shock.

Swift footsteps cut through the darkness. The werewolf’s ears swivel before he turns a second too late. A flash of limbs, metallic and dripping black and red, knocks into the creature, sending it careening back towards the road until he rolls to a stop in a heap of furry limbs. 

You gasp in a flood of relief. Moon straightens. A wallet drops into the dirt. From out of his slim animatronic chassis, two arms, inky and clawed, spread out defensively over you.

“Moon,” you push yourself off the ground and onto your feet, “It’s Warren.”

“Get your gun.” Moon spares you a glance of bright red optics. “We shouldn’t have left you.”

There’s nothing you can say now. You breathlessly slip back behind your friend, rushing down the length of your truck. Moon’s many limbs writhe as he stares down the monster rising back to his paws with vicious growls.

Passing the claw marks carved into your bumper, you dart for your weapon. Behind you, a snarl rips across the road’s edge. Your heart leaps into your throat. You crash against the door and frantically pry out the Winchester from the map pocket.

The barrel gleams darkly in the moonlight. The smooth, carved handle holds intricate designs in the wood. You check with hands threatening to tremble that it’s still loaded. Hidden within is a shiny silver bullet.

You turn back to face the cryptid. In a powerful leap off his hind legs, the werewolf attacks. Moon lifts his four arms to catch the monster and hold it off, staggering back under the force. The snap of teeth nearly snags Moon’s nightcap and vicious claws swipe nearly slice through his chassis. You straighten, standing solid on your feet, and aim your gun. Your dear friend and the young man now cursed thrash together in a blend of demonic and lycanthropy. 

The werewolf towers over Moon who remains in his vessel, unable to spare a moment to escape the confines of it while fending off the vicious cryptid. You cry out a warning. 

In a heartbeat, the cryptid unbalances Moon, dropping him to the ground with a powerful blow of his large paw. The sharp clank of metal on the dirt freezes your blood. Red-dipped cryptid arms rake over the werewolf. Tufts of fur and flesh tear away but the monster gives no thought to the slashes as Moon unleashes an unearthly growl.

Your hands clench around the gun, pulse racing. The werewolf rears back under the moonlight, teeth exposed, jaws wide, and strikes for Moon’s spindly neck.

You squeeze the trigger. The echoing blast cuts through the night air, and a small hole within the werewolf bubbles blood, spilling down his chest. The werewolf slumps with a gurgle, then silence.

Moon grunts once before four limbs push the carcass off of him. With a meaty thump, the cryptid lies on the dirt, dead. 

You stare. Slowly lowering the gun, you stare unblinkingly. Tears brim your eyes. A haze of silver light and blood pooling underneath the furred cryptid overtakes you.

“Moon,” you say, your voice sounds strange, strained. “He wasn’t a cryptid. He was just bitten. He didn’t—He’s not—”

How can you shoot this monster when he’s just a person caught in very awful circumstances? All your other hunts were simple. They were only cryptids, not victims. 

You didn’t protect him.

You lower your hands. A hollowed coldness seeps into your chest cavity. The animatronic lies still as black ooze slips from crevices and cracks, accumulating into a lithe, towering figure with four limbs. Eclipse straightens slowly, watching you closely with red eyes glowing in the dark.

“Heart,” a deep rumble touches you, familiar and safe, but you shake. “You protected us.”

The demonic cryptid slips closer. His many hands reach for you, one trailing down your wrist before slipping the gun from your quaking grasp.

“He didn’t ask to become this,” your voice cracks.

“You didn’t know.” Two large, cool hands cup your face. Tilting your head up to meet their wide eyes, Eclipse softly growls, “It’s not your fault. If you didn’t stop him, he would have caused more harm. He would have joined the other monster in hurting people.”

Tears spill down your cheeks. You grasp his wrists, fingernails sinking into their dark red and deep blue being.

“I needed to—I should’ve—” you gasp a ragged sound, fighting a sob. “He didn’t deserve to die.”

“You did what was right, heart,” Eclipse’s wide jaw with razor-thin fangs lower to you. A crown of frills and horns tilt softly as they lightly flick a long, oily tongue to your cheek in comfort. “Please, don’t blame yourself. We shouldn’t have left your side. If we had stayed, we could have subdued him before he attacked.”

You cling tighter to their anchoring hold. A soft sound echoes as they set the gun on the truck seat before returning their lower arms to rest on your waist, gathering you close to cradle you against them. 

They bow over you. Four limbs, clawed and full of strength, keep you from falling. You press your cheek against their cool, slick chest. Weeping, you cave into their comfort while a young man lies dead in a form he never could have wanted for himself.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

Oct 1st

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1. Hi!!! I’ve been looking for an older fic lately and can’t seem to find it. It’s an explicit modern AU friends with benefits fic where lan zhan realizes he’s in love with wei ying and breaks up with him as a result and then pining ensues. The only specific thing I remember is that the very first scene is of lan zhan realizing he’s in love with wei ying while they are having sex. Thank you for all of your awesome work on this blog!!

FOUND? Honesty is the Best Policy (Except if You’re an Asshole)by piecrust (E, 22k, WangXian, Porn with Feelings, College/University)

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2. Hi! Looking for this fic where WWX's lips got sealed/sewn shut by the cultivation community and imprisoned in Lotus Pier. I *think* JL lets him go or he has to work with LWJ and JWY on a case? TYSM!

FOUND? ❤️ whipstitch by curiositykilled (M, 131k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Torture, WWX Lives, but basically no one else, Case Fic, Cultivation Sect Politics, Past Abuse, WWX Whump, YLLZ WWX, JL Needs a Hug, JL Tries, Yunmeng Bro Reconciliation, Past Character Death, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Alternating, Flashbacks, Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Depression, Not A Fix-It, Mouth Sewn Shut)

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3. Looking for a fic. Set in cloud recesses era, lan wangji is female and I think Wei wuxian is as well. Lwj is a virgin and wwx sends a paperman up her skirt during class and ends up getting her off. @leahlisabeth

FOUND? Carte Blanche by Rionaa (E, 3k, WangXian, Smut, PWP, Dubious Consent, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Underage Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Macro/Micro, Gender Changes, Cisswap, Female WangXian, also female JC, it's a total gender swap, all the boys are now girls because i say so, Virginity, First Time)

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4. hello again! this is for fic finder. i have an image in my head of wwx going to lotus pier with lwj’s family, i think? he was given a silver and onyx guan by lwj (i think it belonged to his father) and madam yu caught him wearing it and she ripped it out of his hair, saying “so you fancy yourself a young master now?” and later i think lan qiren puts it back in his hair when wwx is with lwj and his family. i think he’s betrothed to lwj here but i’m not sure. @ieatkitcat

FOUND! The Wild Geese’s Tomb by The Feels Whale (miscellea) (T, 66k, WangXian, Time Travel AU, fixit, Temporary Character Death, all women live no women die, LWJ’s canonically intense feelings about everything all the time, WWX’s clinical depression gets treated and blamed on resentful energy, navigating gay marriage in ancient china by utiliizing class snobbery for your own ends, if you’re not sure whose fault anything going on in here is then blaming NHS is probably a good bet, WWX plays ‘summon LWJ’ it’s super effective!, the ‘unexploded cow’ approach to dealing with your enemies)

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5. Please help me find this fic. Lan zhan and nie huaisang travel to past during burial mounds and weight yong create a track hundred holes curse back to who cursed them. And wei ying create yillng guide too. And lan zhan make a new identity. It is archived I think. @wangxian02

For 5, I can't find the fic, but it sounds like one where LZ and NHS became friends, and NHS sent gay porn to LZ (in crates?). The chapter where the tracking of the 100 holes curse was done was one of the last published, and JZx ended up forcefully stripping SS, causing much hilarity in the onlookers. LZ commissionned the tracker from WY in a secret identity.

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6. Hello there! I'm looking for this particular fic where wangxian and juniors are out on a nighthunt and they somehow end up needing to view each other's memories? I can't remember much else except that the memories are kind of random and there's a lot of feelings!

FOUND? unhappy stories with happy endings by Last_for_Hell (M, 30k, WangXian, Memories, Memory Fic, Kinda, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks, sexual content maybe, References to Torture, PTSD, Characters Watching Their Series, kinda, but not entirely, very light consensual non-consent)

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7. Two things for fic finder! 🐇🖤💙

A) a threadfic on the ex-bird app where JL was poking around in Koi Tower and ended up finding WWX in a room where the only(?) access point was a grate in the ceiling. It maybe took a while but eventually they got JC involved.

B) modern AU where LXC misunderstands WWX and drives him to cancel his plans to spend Xmas(? or some holiday anyway) with LWJ. WWX gives LWJ a star lantern as a gift, which makes the Lan bros reassess the situation and LXC (rightly) feels like an ass and promptly pivots to "I have a second didi now". @linderel

7A)

FOUND! Thread fic by greenteafiend1

7B)

FOUND!🔒 in any universe, you by sundiscus (M, 12k, WangXian, multiple AUs, summary and tags specified in each chapter!) It's the first of four shorts in one collection.

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8. For the next fic finder, can you help me find this fic where, after siege, wwx is apprehended and sent to the nie sect. His lips are sewn shut with a version of the lan silencing spell. Golden core reveal bc he couldn't eat and had no core to practice inedia. @akweenbitch

FOUND? ❤️ whipstitch by curiositykilled (M, 131k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Dysfunctional Family, Torture, WWX Lives, but basically no one else, Case Fic, Cultivation Sect Politics, Past Abuse, WWX Whump, YLLZ WWX, JL Needs a Hug, JL Tries, Yunmeng Bro Reconciliation, Past Character Death, Body Horror, Non-Consensual Body Modification, POV Alternating, Flashbacks,   Eventual Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Suicide Attempt, PTSD, Depression, Not A Fix-It, Mouth Sewn Shut) the Golden Core reveal happens in chapter 8

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9. Hello! I created an account on Tumblr just to ask this. I need help finding a fic. It's canon divergence, post bloodbath of Nightless City. I don't remember well the beginning but Lan Wangji rescues Wei Wuxian and they escape, at some point they find a cottage in the forest(?) and it's near a village. Wei Wuxian stays in the cottage and Lan Wangji goes out to work with the villagers and get food. There's even a scene when he brings rabbit meat for Wei Wuxian but he didn't hunt it, the villagers gave it to him. There's another scene when LWJ hadn't returned home and it was getting late, WWX decides to go out and search for him, it was raining, they meet in the middle and kiss, they end up making love in their cottage. I remember that towards the end LXC found them and WWX goes to Cloud Recesses with LWJ. Please, I'm kind of desperate because I really loved the fic but I can't find it anymore. I appreciate your help.

FOUND? Hyperprosexia by malkinmalkout (E, 192k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Sentinels & Guides, Sentinel WWX, Guide LWJ, Empath LWJ, Slow Burn, Rivals to Lovers, Fluff and Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, WWX POV, LWJ POV, Tags Contain Spoilers, Telepathy, Marriage, outsider pov, they have a kid, Telepathic Sex, Rough Sex, public exhibition, breath play, Rimming)

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10. Hi! Thank you all for your hard work 💕 for the next ficfinder I am looking for a wangxian Fic, I believe modern au, wwx gets shot near the end, and I think the setting is like a tower in the forest maybe? Has a happy ending. Sorry this is so vague. @vi-sky

FOUND? ❤️ start getting real by azurewaxwing (T, 21k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Reality TV, POV Outsider, Golden Core Reveal, (sort of), Appropriate Use of Gūsū Lán Silencing Spell, Getting Together) Did a deep dive into my read history because I had a vague recollection, came up with a possible match for #10. Checks off the boxes for "modern" and "tower in a forest" but can't remember if WWX got shot at any point.

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11. Hi, for Fic Finders but also for I'm in the mood for. I'm looking for a story where Yu Ziyuan died early in the story, her maids end up working in the laundry for the sect 'cause is the only way they can remain so they can watch over Yanli and Jiang Cheng. Wei Ying is there but he's not a disciple. @monicaop21 ~snipped to an ITMF ~Mod L

FOUND! see all the colors in disguise by Stratisphyre (G, 3k, Canon Divergence, Pre-Relationship, genius WWX)

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12. helloo! i remember a fic about how wwx lied to his friends about having a crush on lwj just to get them off his back, and then lwj overheard. lwj then proceeds to try woo wwx (?) i think by saying hi to him more and making him food i believe, and wwx is questioning why lwj is acting so weird + starts to actually develop a crush on him for reals. thankyou @f1sh1ng4gl0ry

FOUND? it’s just (aah) a little crush (crush!) by sweetlolixo (T, 9k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Romance, Fluff, Pining LWJ, Humor, Courting Rituals, Teen Wangxian)

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13. Hello there is a fic and I remember that it was wwx and lwj as secret agents and there was a short scene where wwx faked his death (it wasn't a major part of the plot) and lwj was crying and wwx is never allowed to fake his death for a mission again

FOUND? 🧡 some life yet unspent by Fahye (E, 28k, WangXian, Background XiYao, Spy AU, Modern AU, 007 LWJ, Q WWX, Fluff and angst, Mutual pining, Injuries, Canon typical violence)

FOUND? where angels fear to tread by besanii (T, 3k, WangXian, James Bond Fusion, Spies & Secret Agents, Reconciliation, Presumed Dead, Quartermaster LWJ, Double-Oh WWX)

FOUND? a bite of a vow, a taste of the truth by occultings (microcomets) (E, 29k, WangXian, Modern with Magic, Case Fic, It's For a Case, Work partners, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Kissing, Pining While Fake Fucking, Truth Serum, Whump, Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Voyeurism, Monsters, Succubi & Incubi, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, Barebacking, Happy Ending, medically discouraged anal, Brief Subspace, impressive heights of soap opera plot) has a brief flashback to wwx faking his death on a case. It's a modern with magic AU where they're cultivation partners for work, rather than secret agents, but it might still fit?

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14. Hi. I am looking for a wangxian fanfic on ao3 where lan zhan has a secret room in jingshi. Wei ying finds out that it is filled with various items and lan zhan confesses that throughout the years of wei ying's death he has been buying things which he thought wei ying would like. Lan zhan then thinks that wei ying would be weirded out by it. I guess they confess their love to each other after that (not sure about this part)

It is definitely less than 100k words. Thank you. @obsessingly-distracted

FOUND? rather cruelly used and rather reserved by x_los (M, 13k, wangxian, sugar daddy (slightly), case fic, domestic horror, architectural horror, gift giving, happy ending, getting together, confessions)

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15. Hi, I'm searching for this fic I read a long time ago. In the fic, Wei Wuxian adopted Xue Yang and Lan Yuan. There was one specific scene where Jiang Cheng hurt Lan Yuan and Xue Yang because they bumped into him. Then Wei Wuxian tried to protect them and got hurt instead. Lan Zhan got angry and demand a duel with Jiang Cheng. During the duel, Lan Zhan gave Jiang Cheng a pill and applied some talisman on him to destroy his core. That's all I remember. Thanks in advance! @moo-oos

FOUND? Not This Time by Marinelifeclub (M, 93k, WIP, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel, Angst, Dark LWJ, Protective LWJ, YLLZ WWX, Resentful WWX, Established Relationship, POV Alternating, Sunshot Campaign, Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, Minor XuanLi, not for jc fans, eventual 3zun, Kid Fic)

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16. theres this fic where jiang yanli kills jin guangshan after he tries to assault her and madam jin covers it up even tho a lot of people saw her do it, and it results in jin zixuan legitimizing jin guangyao and they get closer! jin guangyao calls jin zixuan "xiongzhang" and its rlly heartwarming. but by the end of it jin guangyao ends up getting stuck in a mine and it takes the combined efforts of lxc, jc, lwj, and wwx for him to get freed. before that, the jiang sibs all take down jin zixun and yeah its a great fic but i forgot the title ;w;

FOUND! Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JZX & JGY, JYL & WXX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Romance, Developing Relationship, Family, Sibling Bonding, Light Angst, Politics, Attempted Sexual Assault, some murder on occasion, People talking about their feelings, processing their trauma, The good shit)

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17. hi there! i've been struggling to find a fic that i've read a few times before. i thought i bookmarked it but i simply can't seem to locate it. it was a canon divergence where wen ning gives his golden core to jiang cheng after wen qing finds out wei wuxian is expecting. the wen clan survives in this au, too!

FOUND? 🧡 Don't Wanna Fall by nekojita (M, 111k, WangXian, Mpreg, A/B/O, Fix-it, Lots of pining, Angst with a happy ending, Canon Divergence, Child thief WN)

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18. Hi! Thank you for the work you do, I’ve found some great fics through you 🙂 I’m trying to find a fic some a previous “I’m in the mood for” that I lost when the tab closed by mistake. In it, Jiang Cheng marries off Wei Wuxian to the Lans, Wangxian fuck and Wei Wuxian goes bamf by putting the Elders in their place. That’s as far as I got. Please help 🥹Thank you. @starrie-amethyst

FOUND? Practical Considerations by teawater, the_anthropologist (E, 97k, WangXian, JC & WWX, LXC & WWX, LQR & WWX, Arranged Marriage, Canon Divergence, Found Family, Spouses to Lovers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Politics, Scheming, Lán Elders are assholes, BAMF WWX, BAMF LWJ, eventually BAMF LXC, learning to make decisions, Learning Self-worth, Self-Esteem Issues, Sweet Wangxian, Domestic Fluff, Fix-It, JC is a big asshole, he improves somewhat but it’s open-ended, WWX learns to stand up for himself, Quote: Come Back to Gusu With Me, POV wwx, POV LWJ, POV JC, Golden Core Reveal, Teacher wwx, Golden Core Transfer Fix-It, Alcohol as a Coping Mechanism, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post-Sunshot Campaign, WWX Protection Squad, Feelings Realization, WWX protector of the twin jades, Protective LWJ, Protective WWX, Protective LQR, Demonic Cultivator WWX, WWX is Loved, Married WangXian, Genius WWX, Everybody Lives)

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19. Hello! Thank you for all the work you do!! For fic finder, there’s a fic I read earlier this year that I can’t find in my history. It was a case fic, I *think* modern with magic but I wouldn’t stake my life on it, where even though wwx and lwj were estranged, they accidentally end up on the same night hunt (the juniors are there, lwj is supervising them I think). They get trapped in a rundown manor by the resident spirit, who turns out to be a jilted bride, who trapped them bc it turns out that shortly before wwx’s disappearance, he and lwj slept together, and the ghost is projecting onto them, so they get shotgun married to please the ghost

FOUND! Back to Bite One by diamondbruise (E, 21k, wangxian, modern w cultivation, past sex pollen, case fic, forced marriage technically, misunderstandings, happy ending)

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20. Hi! I'm looking for a transmigration fic! It starts with someone being shoved into the body of someone in a western sect, like a weird parody of SVSSS, the main character is on the scholar peak, and moonlights as a healer, but has to cross-dress for it (because healing is feminine there?). He knows the book he's in, and hates it because just like Luo Binghe, the stallion main character has so many red flags, and his little sister is like Ning YingYing, and doomed to be the little sister/first wife trope of the insane main character, and he's doomed to be killed by his older brothers (because toxic masculinity?) so that his little sister has a sad back story and reason for revenge. He takes his little sister and they run away to the East, where they decide which sect to join, and settle on Yunmeng Jiang. Their entrance exam has them fight Wei Wuxian, and Madame Yu crashes the party and fights them all, and accepts them into the sect. Then they have a chapter where they fix up a house for them and the main character freaks out about the sad library there (because humidity) and plans to go on a spree, and the Jiang are not displeased to have a scholar that wants to make their library great. It wasn't finished, I think. @constellationcorrelation

FOUND?🔒 Live (I've only been dreaming) by Araceil (M, 33k, WIP, (Onesided) OMC\OMC, WangXian, WN/OFC, LXC\OMC, Isekai, Transmigratation, Classic Tropes, subverting tropes, Past Child Abuse, PTSD, touch starvation, Touch Aversion, Depression, Anxiety, Unreliable Narrator, Violence, Gore, Undead, world building, Yandere Male Character (Not the SIOMC), Obsessive Behaviour, Canon Typical Misogyny, (that also gets called out), MDZS Canon is Derailed, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, OMC & OFC Siblings, oblivious OMC, JYL finally gets a little sister, JYL Protection Squad, Chapter Specific Warnings Inside) It's really good, it's a shame it doesn't look like they are continuing it.

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[silentium-symphony]

A Lamb in Wolf's Clothing (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) hey ya'll! i'm so sorry for going MIA for a few months--as some of you may know, I have just recently graduated from college, so there are a lot of big changes happening in my life right now! i appreciate your continued patience with me :) this fic was commissioned by the lovely @mistressofdeathsblog! thank you for giving me such a fun prompt, I had a lot of fun trying smth new and I hope you enjoy it too!

before you start reading, please take special note of the cw below. also, please remember that this is not a healthy relationship you want to emulate and is written for the sole purpose of entertainment. if you are in a relationship that strips your autonomy and you feel unsafe bringing this issue up to the offending party/parties, please reach out to someone you trust. there is no power in staying if there is no freedom to leave. stay safe out there.

and ofc, since this is smut, minors do not interact with this piece.

cw: dubcon, afab!reader, ooc!link since i highly doubt Hylia's Hero would be so life-alteringly possessive of their lover, tp!link, reader being chased, reader being held against their will, blood, tight spaces, swearing, name-calling, dumbification kinda??, cunnilingus, doggy, mirror/standing sex

wc: 5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Sweat and blood dribbled down your forehead, stinging your eyes with a salty, metallic bite. Thorn-kissed hands grasped and blindly waded through thick patches of bramble. The dark, bristling whips that surrounded you worked every exposed piece of skin into a raw, bloody mess quivering from the forest's cruelty.

You couldn't care less.

The birds overhead guffawed at your efforts as splotches of pale moon danced mockingly, titillatingly along the cold earth. You chased every moon patch with the frenzy of an escaped convict a morning away from freedom.

Because that's what you were, really.

The beginnings and ends of thoughts knotted and frayed into each other, flurrying your head into a cohesive garble. Just how big was this forest? It looked like a sprawling mess from the fortress you were locked up in, but it was absolutely impenetrable now that you were in the thick of it. It was as if the very woods were enchanted to keep you from ever escaping.

A ring of pain hooked the topside of your foot, propelling all of your momentum downwards and towards the forest floor. You couldn't even scream before you bashed your cheek through a thin layer of crusted mud. The cold soil caked your flushed cheeks--the only shred of relief you've felt since your mad sprint to freedom.

Your spine slinked up into a curl--a pathetic attempt to get up, to begin your chase again, but your battered body refused to endure further abuse. (E/C) eyes flitted about you, trying to interpret the shadows that danced and weaved through the trees.

Running in this state would be pointless. You dug your forearms and elbows to crawl towards an ivy overhang that promised hidden refuge and curled into as tight of a ball you could muster. The silky white dress he gifted you had been ripped past recognition. The airy fabric that once brushed your ankles now clung tightly to your blood-laced thighs, soiled from the toils of flight. You pulled your legs closer; your lungs fought for precious breath against your pounding heart.

What a shame. If only it weren't beating so fast, you might have heard the crack of a single twig located too close for comfort.

From several paces into the unseen was a pair of blue eyes misted over with sinful hunger; your quivering, shorn form was scintillating to watch and feasted his mind with imaginations more heart-racing than the last. Your blood, sweat, and tears mixing with your natural scent proved to be the most tantalizing olfactory cocktail, scattering his thoughts into overdrive.

He hated the rush he got from seeing you like this--lost and confused without his guidance through these nested thorns, yearning for warmth and safety he knew he could provide (and had been providing since you stumbled into his castle that fateful day).

Why did you leave him? Was he not enough for you? But he'd given you everything! Everything! Freshly made home-cooked meals, tailored clothes that hugged your form, a bed warmed by him, his body...

He could still feel the soft plush of your flesh sinking and dimpling in his hands as he thrust into you with the faux tenderness of a starved man. Your beautiful eyes locked with his own, only leaving to disappear into the back of your head. Your mouth agape to let the cutest sounds escape...

If you were happy with him, why were you leaving him?

Not waking up to your face smooshed into his pillows, not beholding you in all the pretty silk and ribbons he had lying around, not fucking you in every position you could possibly think of, not spending every waking moment with you...

Why, he'd rather die.

If it made you happy, he'd allow the ambrosial drippings of freedom to bead your lips.

If it made you happy, he'd let you delude yourself into thinking you were far enough from the castle to be away from him.

But only for now. Link prided himself on his chivalry and patience, but even that was growing thin from your incessant attempts of escape. He was going to have to show you why it was such a good idea to stay here with him, forever and ever and ever.

You were nodding off now, it seemed. The way your head kept dipping and rising in a futile attempt to stay wary was so adorable, he just had to ravish you right then and there! He had barely managed to stave off his intrusive thoughts as he stalked closer to you, still clinging closely to the dark cloak that hung off twisted branches.

You saw something shift from the corner of your eye; your neck snapped up and a croak clawed out of you.

"Who's there?!"

Silence.

Silence.

Silence.

Why was it so quiet?

Had it always been so quiet?

Where have the birds gone?

A familiar silhouette emerged from the trees.

"L-... Link..." Your throat, parched and scratched from heaving the cold night air, rang a voice unfamiliar to you.

Azure eyes that once beheld you with all the love in the world now stare back with deadpan coldness. Words need not be exchanged here; his presence alone blew any hope of escape in the next breeze that ruffled his fur.

A calculated step towards you retreated you further into your little alcove, a prayer that the ivy could take you in as one of its own on your lips. There was no telling what he was thinking, or how close to the edge he was. But that look, that hunger.

That familiar, craved look your body knew too well pulsed anxious tingles through your fingertips.

Another step.

Then another.

Another.

Finally,

He was here.

You could feel him, all of him--his hot breath against your arms, his fur bristling against your thigh, his warmth freezing your blood where it ran. You hadn't realized how much you were shaking until you heard the rhythmic shifting of ivy buzzing into your ear.

He pressed his head into your lap, prying you open to make way for him. And you sat there, obeying him like the perfect little doe you were. As he lazily dragged a tongue across your thigh, lapping at the dried blood that crusted your flesh, he looked up. Relief, adoration, love. That stifling comforting, possessive protective obsession love that he had so readily wrapped you in the moment he met you. For a moment, he looked like a lamb in wolf's clothing.

So many thoughts swirled inside you, your brain numbing to prevent overstimulation. But amongst the chaos, a single thought backdropped every complicated emotion you were feeling.

He had found you.

Had it not been for the blood drumming through your ears and temples, you would have thought time had frozen in this purgative state. He was splayed atop you now, seeming to rest from his hours-long stalking; he wasn't crushing you, but it was clear he had all the control in this dynamic. Any undesirable shift away from him, to preserve your own personhood, would most certainly have led to a 'gentle' nudge toward him.

A single cobalt eye lazily cracked open after a million years ticked by. His piercing gaze, though fringed with some life, made it abundantly clear that your race to freedom was placed at an indefinite standstill. He had never once snapped at you, but the fear lodged in your chest informed you not to test him further.

He hauled himself up, joints locked from inactivity popping to life as he arched into a long stretch. His carefree pose hinted at obliviousness--borderline forgiveness--to your impertinence, but you knew better.

Link never forgets.

He eyed you again with a sort of child-like excitement that twisted your gut into a sickening pattern. His tail arced to and fro, painting his excitement in broad strokes. He wedged his snout between the small of your back and the wall and firmly pushed you forward, scooting you a couple inches toward your prison home.

You knew better than to anger him.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Link's skillful navigation through the thorns was unimpeded by your clinging onto him. It had taken hours to get to where you once were, but a quarter of that time for the wolf. The gloomy castle you had called your home for months (years?) broadened into view until you could clearly see its spires puncture through occasional clouds. The moon, basking in its celestial sovereignty, jeered at your return.

Link slipped through a tiny crack in the iron-clad door, made by the wolf confident in its tracking and retrieving abilities. You slugged off him with practiced movements; a sound akin to obscene magic asundering flesh preluded your captor's transformation. Grisly black fur gave way to sand-blonde hair; the worn, patchwork shirt which heralded his humble beginnings as a rancher ran taut against the back you had spent several minutes clambering onto.

He continued looking ahead unblinkingly as you idled a few paces behind him, your chest constricting and mind frenzying with murky anticipation. Your nerves, frayed from adrenaline and brain-altering fear, now swam in the heavy nothingness of silence; you were a breath away from weeping before a tenor tone disturbed the still.

"Let's get you cleaned up."

Silently, you both moved through the halls, paying the torchlit shadows the special type of attention one gave to the mundane in moments choked with awkwardness. Worn, freshly torn hands bunched the hem of your dress until your knuckles whitened. A part of you wished to never reach your destination, preferring thickened stillness over the unpredictable inevitable. You rounded a familiar corner and gathered the shreds of your sanity to brace yourself for whatever may come.

The sullen wooden door gave way to the man's heave and you followed him in. A large bathroom decorated only with the essentials filled your view. As Link ran the faucet, your eyes absently glazed over the rickety plumbing he had installed to transport hot spring water to the tub. For the first time since his transformation, he turned to you.

"Strip."

His clear, authoritative tone cut sharper than any thorn that had shredded you. Eyes downcast, your fingers wrought the straps of your dress further, further down your shoulders. Your skin burned from your clammy fingers; you blamed it on the steam that had begun filling the corners of the room and ignored the heavy, heated stare placed on you by the male.

Link followed your dawdling, hooking his fingers under the hem of his shirt and lifting it to reveal a stomach sculpted by years of farm work and adventuring. The straps of your dress coiled close to your elbows before settling by your ankles. Your hands immediately scattered to cover your exposed parts as Link finished undressing himself, his fully erect length blurred by warm mists and (eventually) a deftly wrapped towel.

He reached over to squeak the faucet shut; the comforting, monotonous lull of running water now halted to scant droplets. After pulling out the small basket of rags and soap, he sat on a bar stool and beckoned you with a lone finger.

"Come here. You're filthy."

You shuffled out of the shredded dress and forward, keeping your eyes trained on the end of the tub where he sat.  The wanton desire for a hot bath waived your concerns over the situation, dulling your fears enough to throw a leg over the edge and sink everything but the top half of your face below the water.

The warm panacea cloaked you in an elixir of ease, and a satisfied groan unintentionally lapsed your lips; your hand figuratively slapped over your mouth when the air honeyed into something...

Sinful.

Link dipped a small bucket into the bathwater and slowly poured it over your head, calloused fingers expertly combing through knotted, crusted strands. The hardened skin tenderly brushing the back of your neck jolted heated memories to the forefront of your mind.

You could still feel the harsh, almost desperate grip laced in your hair as he pounded you from behind, panting sweet promises to give you more for the rest of your lives. Your face, buried in his pillows, blindly nodded along to the specifics of what he had said, your mind too blurred to focus on much else aside from your umpteenth high of the night.

The warm water felt like a cold deluge and a noticeable shiver ran through you. Soapy hands stopped caressing your scalp.

"(F/N)?"

"H-Huh?"

"How about we play a little game?" Link murmured suddenly, absently twirling your locks in his fingertips. Had it not been for the taut fingers interweaved through your hair, your surprise would have been more apparent.

"What... What game?"

"A little game similar to hide-n-seek." He started languidly, as if savoring every vowel that lisped his tongue. "If you can evade my capture until dawn, I will guide you to the forest's edge so you may leave. However..."

Rough fingerpads traced up the side of your bicep as darkened ears caught your quiet, involuntary gasp.

"If I catch you... You're mine. Deal?"

Throat tightening and heart palpitating, your mind fought to keep its last ounce of calm as your captor's hand circled to your front to cusp and knead your--

"What's the catch?" You breathed, somehow managing to divert your attention away from Link's sinful reaches.

"There is no catch, but there are rules." He pecked your cheek, his lips curving into a soft smile that thinly veiled iller intents.

"You are allowed to hide anywhere in the castle grounds and use whatever means necessary to hide from me, so long as neither of us gets seriously injured... The moment you step foot in that forest, I will claim you where you stand. Is that fair?"

Was this a trick?

A sick joke meant to dangle tonight's failure in your face?

Surely it was... But what if it wasn't?

His steady stare that peered shamelessly through your soul conveyed a degree of seriousness and sincerity required to make a truthful statement.

"How do I know that you won't go back on your word?"

"I have never lied to you." He gritted his teeth. "Can you say the same?"

The genuine hurt masking his eyes ached your chest, but the tiniest shred of dignity you had left netted the apology that almost escaped your mouth.

"Is there anything else I should know before I make my decision?"

"No. I have told you everything you need to know and will uphold my end of the deal. The final decision is yours."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Moonlight masqueraded through the gaping windows, streaking drab grey pillars with hints of alabaster. The halls which you have called home for what felt like time immemorial now crowded your vision with a foreign bite, sinking into your flesh an unnerving uncertainty around every corner.

Your neck swiveled on all axes, one eye trained in front of you and the other separating the benign from foe that hid in every dancing shadow. Bare feet pattering against olden stone filled the gaps in between each racing heart beat, drumming your ears in a never-ending symphony of chase.

Legs aching, quaking, begging for proper rest are promptly ignored, outcompeted by the more urgent matter at hand.

Your final gambit for freedom.

You cursed under your breath as you ascended a spiraling staircase, your lungs burning with the rage of a thousand suns from heaving in the cold, arid air. The stone floor kissed knicks into the soles of your feet as you skidded around a corner and madly dashed down the hall, shifting down a narrow crawlspace that branched off from the main hall.

Whispered hisses and curses bounced off the tightening walls as rough-hewn stone jagged into your skin, reopening recently closed wounds from the brambles. You could only pray that Link was far enough away to not pick up on freshly streaked blood.

A familiar carpet--the one from the main hall--filled your view and you slowed your shimmying into a momentary pause. You fought to see through your grimace to peer around the corner and hoped that your heart wasn't beating loud enough to mask the signs of your stalker.

All good...?

You scooted out of that uncomfortable position and ducked towards the exit.

The private gardens opened up to you. Trails of ivy found residence in the cracked grey of decayed walls and the fountain was spewing the most delicious water your parched throat had ever seen. You circled the mini courtyard, your frenzied mind shunting the garden's haunting aesthetics in search of a practical hiding place. To your right was the more open space of the main courtyard, and to your left were the untrimmed topiaries of Hyrulian heroes commemorated only in flora.

Streaks of morning were just beginning to tip the horizon.

Your feet teetered toward the right, but a certain non-human shadow slinked past the threshold. All color drained from your pallor as you scurried around the topiary's wide base and hid behind the cloister's stone pillar. The sounds of flesh ripping and reanimating shot through the air; tears began to freely flow as a carefree whistle ambled closer to you.

"My, my... It's almost daybreak. I must find my beloved soon, or else I'll lose her forever."

The sky was just beginning to tinge a magenta-red.

"Is she... Hiding by the door?"

Boots clicking against stone rang like a departed's dirges. Your clammy fingers dug into the side of your face--a feeble attempt to muffle your whimpering.

"Is she... Behind these topiaries? No? Hm... But I'm getting close, aren't I, (F/N)?"

All strength, all hope, had been sapped from your body; your knees locked and buckled.

"Oh? Have we always had a little walkway back here? What a wonderful surprise! I know my darling would love it here."

Your vision darkened.

Leather nestled softly into your face as the heat of another poured and mingled with the cold stone pressed to your back.

"Guess who?" He sang.

You felt all your muscles simultaneously release their tension; your legs folded in on themselves, but secure arms hooked them under and hoisted you bridal style.

As you were carted inside the dark fortress, the morning sun greeted you in its soft-rayed glory.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The stale castle air flooded your lungs as your body was unceremoniously tossed onto the bed. A hand tightened around your wrists and hot, agitated lips locked with yours before your brain could register the cotton plush of your sheets. His other hand feathered up your thigh, learned fingers grazing all your tender spots and teasing your thoughts into a foggy mix of want.

Your figure writhed uselessly under him as he flattened you further into the bed, using his full weight to keep you pinned where he wanted. The hand that carried out its sinful ministrations below shot up to seize your cheeks. Rough fingerpads bruised the softer flesh as he craned your neck to make way for his lips, flushed with a feral red and coated with soft proclamations of domination.

"You're mine... All mine..."

Hot breaths ghosted the surface of your neck, tickling a heated whine out of you. Your needy noises hitched into a gasp when you felt moistened lips lock onto your skin, suckling and teething the flesh into discolored patches. Rich vermilion fringed with a sinful violet bloomed below your jawline, trailing down and darkening with each claim closer to your chest.

He yanked the noisome dress down, exposing all of your chest to him. The snaps of cloth ripping from its handles and the sudden whip of cold air across your most sensitive parts pierced a jolt through your body. He pulled away to admire the shades of purple and red marring your fair complexion, a visual reminder to the dust haunting old halls and courtyards lost to time that you were his, and his alone. A lone tongue swirled around an irritated bud.

Trembles quaked through you--from heated anticipation or disgust, you were unsure. He hooked his fingers back into your cheeks and pried your face to look into his own. Sky-blue eyes, which once beheld you in crinkled happiness, had dimmed into a hazy navy clouded with lust.

"So pretty... My gorgeous, gorgeous girl."

Soft lips brushed your forehead, ambled down to your nose, and finally settled on your lips.

"My good girl."

Lips warmed with depraved whispers silenced around your bud. Starved suckling backdropped the more apparent whimpers scratching your throat, dredged in pleasure with a dulling edge of resistance. Scarred skin delicately cusped your mounds, tweaking and flicking your perkiness until it was a rosy red.

Your growing sensitivity stung tears into your eyes. Achy hands, now free from his grasp, grappled onto sinewy shoulders but did little to convey genuine discomfort. A deep groan purred from his chest as Link balanced your sore bud in a soft knead between his teeth. A pop filled the room.

"Let me see those eyes."

Your eyes wedged open to see blown-out blues taking all of you in. Your heart pounded a flush into your cheeks and christened an unholy flame to spread through your core.

"That's it... Now watch me..."

He dragged his body lower and lower, his eyes unwavering from yours for even a second. Steady hands balled into the collar of your dress and tore through the silk, the symphony of rips bouncing off the walls and knocking coherence out of your head. His lips matched the pace of the ragged unveiling and chased progressively exposed flesh with soft kisses, down, down, and farther down. Feverish breaths along your inner thighs sent chills up your spine.

"Watch me as I make you cum for me."

Hands gnarled from knighthood knotted into the delicate lace separating him from his prize, tearing it apart with ease.

"Link, hold--ah!"

Your eyes shot to the back of your head as your mouth gaped into a silent 'O.' An orchestra of colors, conducted by a madly indulgent maestro, symphonized into a crazed, otherworldly experience. His tongue coiled and stretched into you with the practiced precision of many amorous nights while his thumb circled the space around your clit, teasing the nub until agony. It was only a matter of time before your impassioned gasps and pleas competed with the downright sinful wetness Link lapped below.

"Tell me you love this--that you love me."

"Link, please! Just give it to me please, please, please...!" The top of your head rolled further into your pillow when the painful prick of a pinch shot too much for too short a time.

"Don't look away. Don't you dare look away, you filthy slut." Deft fingers plunged into you until pleasure fried your brain. "You'll cum when I tell you to."

Your whines and whimpers hiccuped into full sobs for release, whistled with pleas and promises you both knew you wouldn't keep.

"You'll love me forever, right? You'll be my good lil' cock slut forever, right?"

"Yes! Yes, I promise! Please Link, just let me cum already, please!"

You damn liar.

He pulled away, coldly gazing at the weeping, quivering, gasping mess of his beloved.

"Link...? W-why did you--"

"Your heart may have forgotten, but your body remembers..."

His sweet lips, tinted with a hint of bitter longing, moved with yours in a desperate, crazed dance. Every lust-filled, haggard groan ripped from his lungs masked the quieter crack running up his heart.

The bed creaked from the sudden redistribution of your weight as he spread you on all fours. He aligned himself to your entrance and, in a single motion that he had done hundreds of times, completed you. A wail, colored in pleasure and streaked with pain, contrasted Link's blissed-out groan. Tears brimmed the corner of your eyes; each droplet slipped down your cheek in time with his frenetic pounding until it had thickened into a steady stream.

He wasted no time in his pursuit for pleasure, hitching his pelvis to your ass, pulling away, and slamming back in with the gentleness of a starved wolf ripping into a lamb. His fingers dug crescents into your hips as he adjusted himself, propping one of his legs up to angle himself deeper and faster into you.

He was stretching you past your limits, and every thrust was accompanied by a heated flash of pain. Your upper half sunk towards the bed as he moved your hips higher, closer to him. Helpless (E/C)s stared at the creaking bedpost while your whitening knuckles dug through the sheets clumped in your hands. A salty mixture of tears and saliva pooled on your pillow as honeyed cries haunted your walls.

"What, is my princess not having a good time?" He jeered, reaching over to give your engorged clit a cruel flick and your ass an even crueler slap. "What does my baby want me to do to her? Huh? What do you want me to do to your tight pussy?"

"L-Link, It hurts! It's too--!"

The side of your quivering hips slammed into the mattress and forced you on your back. Your face snapped into the pillow when his writhing tongue replaced his thick cock, tonguing and lapping at your dripping pussy as if your ambrosia would be the last thing he was to taste. He pulled out and spat on your entrance, pressing his tongue flat against your pussy and swiping up towards the clit that he coiled.

"Mmph... Fuck, I love you... Give me more... Gods, give me more."

A bruising ache pressed into your hips as his frenzied circling spurred faster, faster, faster. Pleasure dizzied your senses towards a dark void; the familiar knot in your stomach that ached to unravel popped with the abrupt re-emergence of Link.

"Mm, tight as ever... How're you feeling, my dove?" He husked, ragged breaths encapsulating the shell of your ear.

"Too b-bi--Link, you're too big!"

"Shhh... You can take it. You've taken it hundreds of times. C'mon, squeeze my cock like a good girl."

"It's so--Link, you're stretching me out, I need to--"

"Not yet. I'm not done fucking you yet." He swiveled you back on all fours and pounded you into the mattress, your cries and pleas be damned. Slender fingers snarled through your tresses and strained you away from the pillows that held your screams.

"When I'm ready, I want to watch you cum all over my cock." His erratic pounding slowed for a split second, enough time for a certain thought to come and go. "I want you to see it too."

Your abused cunt finally had a moment to breathe and process; if only your brain had that same luxury.

The bed sighed a relieved groan as Link crawled out and wrapped his arms about your lower abdomen to hoist you up. When it was evident that this pathetically limp curl was the best you could do, toned forearms hooked under your knees and spread your legs in the most vulnerable position you've ever been in. With a huff, Link brought you front and center to the mirror. You both watched breathlessly as he lowered you onto his slicked cock, sinking every inch into your gummy walls.

"Fuck, you're so tight... I need you, (F/N)..."

His crazed pistoning began once more; the sensations that ransacked your body were unlike anything you'd ever experienced before. The tip of his cock so easily, so effortlessly rammed into your sweetest spots; every thrust he slammed into you turned you into a shamelessly shaking, overstimulated mess.

"Look at you," he hummed darkly, "look at all the sin running down your legs."

Link's voice was so far away now. The way he kept disappearing into your sopping cunt and your juices dribbling over your thighs consumed your every thought. The only tangible you could feel was the building pressure coiling in your gut, tightening with each passing second.

"So beautiful... So tight... Don't you want to do this forever? Hm? Don't you want to be ruined by me forever and ever?"

His teeth sunk into your neck, adding to the carnal collection and ripping a hoarse cry out of you.

"You're my good girl, aren't you? My good girl... You're all mine--all fucking mine."

Veins marbled his arms and forehead as he nuzzled into your neck, tongue tracing the edge of every bite. The labored grunts that occasionally wheezed out of him, along with his stuttering hips, signaled that he was teetering closer and closer to the edge. Hooded blues stared piercingly into your own, weighed down by mindless intoxication. His lips brushed a flame through the curve of your ear.

"Look at me..." He purred. "Look at me and confess your lust to me."

A shattered cry, followed by a wave of profane heat, collided with your system. Winced eyes lolled to the back of your head while you spasmed and twitched in still arms. Your violent clenching and knowledge of your release strained a guttural growl through Link's chest as he spurted his cum as deep as it could go. Thin, white threads coated your walls and trailed out your still-plugged hole until drips of sin stained the stone below.

Link tripped to the foot of the bed, his body folding into the sheets the second his foot made contact with the wooden post. With arms wrapped comfortably around you and the familiar presence of your spent lover, you passed out the moment your body recognized blissed finality.

As you commenced your near-immediate foray into the realm of dreams, a familiar voice--soft yet broken--rang through your last layer of consciousness.

"Sleep well, my dove. If eternally precarious possession is the closest thing we will ever have to love, I will gorge myself on it."

[aetherdoesthings]

HALLOWEEN EVENT

forethoughts: Hey guys! No, I'm not dead, I've been taking a break to work on my mental and physical health. This piece is a part of @edgeray's halloween event! Thank you for letting me join, and for the rest I hope you enjoy and have a happy halloween!

notes: goddess!arlecchino, gn!reader, reader is a child

Thunder boomed around you, the rocky terrain under your feet trembling from the shockwaves. Rain was constantly attacking your body, the heavy downpour making the climb harder to accomplish as you held onto your walking stick, keeping the potato sack close to your heart. Just a few more steps, you told yourself. Just a few more steps. What you were experiencing now was nothing like what your village was experiencing down below. You had to do this. For them. For their safety. 

A yelp was ripped out of your throat as your sandals slipped on one of the steps, your chin landing first onto the uneven, sharp surface. You grimaced in pain as your teeth sunk into your gum, the metallic taste of blood filling your mouth. Your hand clutched onto the potato sack filled with all your village’s treasures, placing it in the nook of your stomach you created from your fall. Pain trembled through your body, your muscles begging you to give up and go home. No, your mind shot back. You had to do this. You were your village’s only hope. With legs that shivered every second and wanted to collapse, you forced yourself into an awkward crawling position, pressing the potato sack next to your chest as you started your climb again. Left, right, left right, you chanted to yourself. Just a few more steps. The sound of lightning became white noise to your ears, the rain becoming a source of comfort to your sweaty and exhausted body as you got closer to the temple. Sharp pebbles found its way beyond your skin, shattered wood from other offerings penetrating your soles as you trudged up the mountain. 

Trudging your feet in front of the other, your body collapsed the moment you stepped foot inside the pristine marble temple with crimson ornate patterns, your body under the protection of the roof. No time. You don’t have time to waste. You told yourself, trekking into the center of the temple, until you faced an altar. The altar was made with the villages’ expert architects and builders, as was the whole temple; Not a single scratch nor dust covered its surfaces. The halls were covered with marble statues and extravagant art commissioned by the church of your village, displaying the images of the patron goddess to your village. 

Many had deemed your village to be cursed and unfortunate, for legend had it that your patron goddess would steal the souls of the young and take it for Herself. The legends and stories you heard about the deity was enough to make you sleep with one eye open during your entire childhood. The Goddess that had claimed your island as Hers was a just and righteous one as the church proclaimed, however the toll for safety and protection from Her omnipotence was a heavy one. Plague and disaster always found its way to your island; it was Her who kept it away, in exchange for the souls who had not seen nor explored the world. It was the souls of the pure and innocent She seeked, thus every month you’d watch as priests brought children your age up the same stairs you had gone up and never see them again. The next day the sun would shine and farmers would find bountiful harvests. 

Your mind raced with the instructions the church had given you on what to do, taking all the treasure inside the damp potato sack and laying it out on the altar, before sinking to your knees, head touching the ground and hands in front of you. You murmured the prayer the bishops had taught you, clenching your eyes shut and praying for an answer. 

“Oh, Arlecchino, patron Goddess of our village, answer my pleas!” You cried out, eyes flying to the ceiling. The temple trembled like an earthquake was shaking the mountain the temple was on, as the ground below the altar started to crack, the rocks falling down into an abyss along with all your treasure. You shuffled your body back, away from the hole in the ground that grew crimson vines on the side. 

“Mortal, why have you woken me from my slumber?” The temple shook at the blaring voice, as a dark figure emerged from the hole, two crimson crosses staring at your tiny body. Your parents had told you that the Goddess’ cruelty extended only to the elders and those who had committed atrocities towards the young; there was a soft spot for the innocent the Goddess had. But those were only fantasies you filled your head with as you faced the being that could take your life away in a blink of an eye.

You kept your head to the ground and eyes clenched shut, repeating the words the church leaders had told you. “Goddess, I plead to you, the almighty, that you remove the storm and famine that struck my village and spare everyone. Please take these precious artifacts from our village as an offering.”

Your muscles tightened, bracing yourself to have your soul erased from the world. Instead, your body was soaked in warmth and comfort, all sense of fear and trepidation losing its power over your mind. You naturally allowed yourself to sink into the comfort, reclining back on a soft surface that pulled you away from the cold and hard marble ground. The scabs and scars on your knees and foot healed itself without any traces; a light and warm feeling ignited inside your heart. 

“Child, why are you injured?” The voice spoke again, this time with a softer edge and calming tone. Your eyes locked onto the source of the voice, reality finding its way to coexist with the serenity that filled your head. You were lying down on a hand. The hand. The hand of the Goddess that killed your people and brought terror to your village. In front of you was Arlecchino Herself, the Goddess allowing you to see Her face fully. Your jaw fell at the sight of the Goddess’ features, as it was a stark difference from the descriptions of the church and the storybooks. 

“Do not be afraid.” Words flowed out of those pink lips, the crimson crosses in Her eyes softening its gleam as She observed your body. She was looking at you. You were in Her hands. Despite your mind trying to remind you that your village was in a crisis and you were their only savior, all you could feel was an overwhelming want of comfort and warmth. 

“My village…” You managed to stutter out.

“Has doomed themselves for their wrongdoings against one another and the greater good. Greed and evil has consumed your village, the wickedness filling the hearts of even those in the church. The lust for money and power has consumed your village, even though you cannot see it, my dear child. Your village has doomed itself to fall, consumed with sin. No amount of artifacts nor trinkets can save your village.”

My mind went blank, eyes staring into Hers with my mouth ajar, shoulders slumping. What? No. It can’t be. You grew up with these people. How could they be evil?

“Therefore, their fates have been determined and decided. What they are experiencing now is fated. However… yours has not.”

“...W-What?” You stammered, falling back against her fingers. Within the blink of an eye, the same surging feeling of serenity and warmth trampled your worry and fear for the people whom you grew up with.

“You do not deserve to grow up in a world consumed by evil and sin, with those proclaiming to be just but are hypocrites in the dark. I can take you to a place where no harm or bad things can happen to you, my dear, pure child. This world has been doomed, but rest assured that I will not let this world consume you.”

Your mind couldn’t protest; there was something blocking all the senses to tell your brain something wasn’t right and to stay focused on what you were sent here to do. Your body reclined itself against the palm of Arlecchino, fear and worry slipping away into nothingness. The words that poured out of those lips took away all your control of your own body, your eyes shining with curiosity and wondering, pinned to the Goddess. 

“Would you like to see what that world may be? All your friends are there. Past, present, and future.” Arlecchino asked, Her lips curling upwards as She brought you closer to her gaze.

Your lips parted, head nodding as a single breath escaped your lips. Your brain couldn’t even comprehend your surroundings and give a reaction accordingly; your mouth moved on a foreign command. In an instant, a familiar feeling of warmth flooded your body. It wasn’t uncomfortable, nor painful. Rather, it felt like the flames fueled by care and comfort, the flames that kept you warm during the harsh winters, not the flames that you saw the elders use to burn those at the stake. But the sight of seeing flesh burning alive was scorched the moment your mind conjured it, and was the other memories you had that once brought you pain.

One moment, you were scrambling up a mountain in the pouring rain and thunder with bruises and scratches on your skin. The next, you were standing in a luscious grass field, the sounds of other children your age laughing grabbing your attention, eager to join them on their fun. A house stood a few yards ahead of you, ornate with vines, the walls made with marble chiseled to perfection. All you wanted to do was play; the concept of worry and fear left your mind. 

“Ah, a new arrival.” You looked up. A woman stood before you, a kind and warm smile on her face as she bent down to your eye level. She had white hair that was tied into a ponytail behind her head, crimson crosses in her eyes that only shined with warmth. You thought you saw her before, somewhere, but you didn’t feel like thinking. 

“Fret not, nothing will harm you. You may call me Father.” Father picked you up, as you instinctively snuggled against the woman. “Welcome to the House of the Hearth. May your stay be filled with warmth and joy.”