#to the point of entering subspace

[gimmethatagustd]

wanna stream a porno | kth

At this point, attempting to deny that you have feelings for Taehyung is laughable. Even his subscribers can sense the chemistry between the two of you.

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Genre/Trope: Frenemies to lovers, sex work, fluff (?), smut

Word Count: 4,847

Content Warning: Sex work (cam), MC uses they/them pronouns, Tae refers to MC as bunny and bun - aka rope bunny which is the term for the person being tied up in a shibari scene, BDSM, bondage, impact play, spanking, use of degrading language (that isn't actually meant to be mean), voyeurism, exhibition kink, Tae makes MC call him daddy so they won't dox him lmfao, blow job, vaginal fingering, sex toys, crying during sex, subspace/dropping, vaginal sex, forced orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, implied aftercare

A/N: I first posted this on Valentine's Day 2024, can you believe ?? Abandon all hope, ye who enter

Soundtrack: One Of The Girls (Sped Up) - The Weeknd, JENNIE, Lily-Rose Depp

the wannabe-photographer chronicles: part four

“Too tight?” Taehyung murmurs against the curve of your ear, his breath tickling your neck. 

It’s embarrassing how your body reacts to the sound of his low, velvety voice. You’d snorted when Taehyung first told you that people on the internet paid money to listen to his dirty talk and watch him jerk off. There was no fucking way; he had to be lying. You’d been sure of it. 

But now… 

Taehyung reaches around your body and tugs on the rope he’s just tied your wrists with. It looks rough, black, and twisted but smooth as it rubs against your skin when you move. 

You shiver and shake your head, forgetting what you’d discussed earlier in the day until it’s too late. The smack to your ass stings, and you bite your bottom lip to keep from making any sound. 

“What did I tell you, bun?” Taehyung asks softly, running his palm across the skin he just smacked. He squeezes your asscheek and jiggles it before removing his hand. 

“I have to use my words,” you speak up like he told you to, even though your voice is hoarse with desire and nervousness. Because, fuck, are you nervous. 

“Mhmm…” Taehyung hums in agreement, though he sounds distracted. 

You can’t see him from where you kneel on the floor in his bedroom, but you can feel it when he gets up. If you wanted to, you could twist around to face him. It would be difficult, though, with how much of your body is tied up. 

Taehyung spent at least twenty minutes carefully weaving intricate patterns against your naked skin, crossing the rope in what almost looks like a star formation across your back that wraps around to the front of your body, keeping your arms tied to your sides and your hands bound in front of you. The rope cages your chest like a harness and extends down to wrap around your legs, forcing you into a kneeling position and making you unable to straighten your legs. 

It took you three weeks of practicing before Taehyung could fully tie you up without you going into a panic attack. 

“It’s not too tight,” you announce after clearing your throat. 

You watch as Taehyung circles your body until he stands in front of you. He reaches out to flick his middle finger against the underside of your chin, prompting you to tilt your head back to look up at him. 

“My little rope bunny looks so pretty, all tied up for me,” Taehyung says with a sparkling grin that makes your whole body flush with heat. 

“I want to tell you off so badly right now,” you hiss through gritted teeth. Your frustration only makes Taehyung’s grin widen. 

“I bet you do. It’s a shame you can’t, but rules are rules.” Taehyung shrugs, not at all nonchalant in his mocking tone. 

You close your eyes as he trails his finger down your throat and past your collarbones until he reaches one of your nipples. Usually, it would take more than a gentle brush of a fingertip against your nipple for you to feel aroused, but there’s something about being tied up that has heightened your senses. Every minor touch has your nerves sparking and fraying at the ends. Taehyung isn’t even doing anything, and you’re already wet and aching. 

“Taehyung,” you do your best to sound steady and fail. 

“Let me fix the cameras and figure out what I’m gonna wear, okay? I’ll be quick; I promise.” 

Taehyung rearranged all the furniture in his bedroom to leave an open spot in the corner of the room where he set up cameras and photography lighting. His laptop rests on an end table nearby, the screen showing a mirrored image of you kneeling on the floor on a pale pink silk sheet, fluffy pillows surrounding you in a half-circle. It’s all very Y2K, softcore aesthetic – not what you’d expect from Taehyung. His followers are mostly young women, though, and he says he likes to play up his soft side for them. 

It sounds ridiculous, but there’s something about being tied up in such a gentle environment that’s making your pussy throb. 

Taehyung is quick, as he promised. He returns, shirtless and wearing a pair of black joggers to match the black rope wrapped around your body. You drag your eyes over his torso, admiring the flat plane of his abdomen and the swell of his pecs. Smooth – it’s the best word to describe Taehyung. His voice, body, and charisma when he murmurs sweet seductions in your ear are always so smooth. 

When he catches you staring, Taehyung winks at you. It makes you flustered despite your desire to remain neutral, and you quickly look down to find something else to focus your attention on. In Taehyung’s hands is a long, rectangular purple box. He sets it down next to you on the floor and opens the lid. 

You gasp when you see what’s inside. 

“Taehyung…” 

“It’s for later. Don’t worry about it,” Taehyung says softly, pressing his index finger against your parted lips to quiet you. 

On instinct, you close your lips around Taehyung’s finger and suck it gently, swirling your tongue around it. Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed for a few seconds until he pulls his hand away. 

“You’re such a slut.”

“Fuck you.” 

You can’t help but grin when Taehyung sticks his tongue out at you. He’s an idiot, but you love it. You love him, maybe. To be determined. 

Or never. Never is also fine. 

“So… what the fuck is gonna happen now? I’m starting to cramp,” you complain as Taehyung messes around with his laptop. 

“What?” Taehyung spins around quickly, nearly sending one of his floor lamps crashing when his elbow collides with the stand. “You’re in pain? Where? Let me loosen–” 

“Oh my god, Taehyung, I’m fine. I just don’t feel like kneeling naked on the fucking floor while you dick around!” 

With a snort, Taehyung turns his back on you. 

“I’m just trying to take care of my little movie star, alright?” 

The nickname, if that’s what you can even call it, makes your stomach flutter. It doesn’t matter that you’re trying your best to stay unaffected by Taehyung’s bullshit; Taehyung has you under his spell like he always does. 

“I know what to say…” you insist with a pout, flexing your fingers. “Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for good…” 

It’s elementary, but all the prep Taehyung made you do leading up to this moment showed you how important having a system is, be it a random safe word or the colors. What you don’t want to tell Taehyung is how comforting the rope is. You don’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that you like being restrained. It’s like a tight embrace, and the rope causes goosebumps to spread across your body when its silkiness rubs against your skin every time you shift positions. 

Watching you over his shoulder, Taehyung calls you softly, “I’m going to start the session if that’s okay?”

You nod, adrenaline buzzing through your veins as you hear the little pings from Taehyung’s laptop, indicating that people are paying to join the livestream. It’s still shocking that Taehyung has such a large following. However, it makes sense now that he has been so interested in erotic photography and film for his projects as a university student studying art. Funny how your roommate, Hoseok, never bothered to tell you that his friend does amateur porn – though Taehyung was quick to make it clear that he has never had anyone else on his stream before you. 

You’re special.

You wonder who might be sitting on the other end, paying to watch Taehyung pleasure himself every Wednesday night. 

“It’s hump day,” Taehyung had said with an exasperated sigh when you’d asked why he chose Wednesdays, as if you were the stupidest person on the planet for asking such a question.

The worst part is wondering if someone watching Taehyung’s stream will recognize you. Taehyung doesn’t shy away from showing his face, but he’d offered you a mask or only to use camera angles that wouldn’t expose your identity. You’d turned down both offers, though you can’t remember why. You can’t remember much of anything, your mind going blank the moment Taehyung addresses the anonymous subscribers waiting for porn. 

“Hey everyone, it’s nice to see you all again this week,” Taehyung greets his followers with a deeper and richer voice than you’ve ever heard him use. It makes your body tingle. “For those of you following me on my socials or who joined last week, you’ll know I promised to do something special for Valentine’s Day, right?” 

You can’t see the laptop screen; Taehyung is standing in front of it. He’s also blocking the camera, so the people logged into the session can’t see you yet. 

“I have a special guest,” Taehyung shifts to the side so you’re in view, “This is Bunny, and it’s their first time on camera like this, so please be kind.” 

Unsure of what to do, you wave your fingers in a greeting, unable to do much else since you’re all tied up. It must be enough because Taehyung smiles when he looks at you, and you feel your face heat up from the gentle gesture. 

Luckily, Taehyung’s attention quickly returns to the livestream chat. Apparently, Jimin is hanging out in his bedroom, moderating the chat to ensure no one posts anything inappropriate. Knowing Jimin will be watching excites you a little bit. 

“Ah, no, we’re not dating,” Taehyung chuckles, and it’s strange to be able to say that you know Taehyung well enough to know that this laughter isn’t genuine. “Don’t get any ideas, though. Trust me. Our little bun might look harmless, but it’s a ruse.”

You can’t help but snort. You’d think Taehyung is stalling, but you’ve learned that his subscribers expect a sort of parasocial relationship with him. He usually warms up by feeding into that. As weirdly cute as it is, your nerves are making you impatient. 

“Even though it’s my bun’s first time, I don’t think we need to take it easy on them,” Taehyung smirks into the camera, and more pings ring through the bedroom. 

Each ping indicates that the livestream viewers are leaving messages in the chat and sending Taehyung money to request specific actions – actions he refuses to tell you about because that would ruin all the fun. 

“Hmm…” Taehyung murmurs, eyes dragging from the streaming platform’s chat feature to you, wrapped up like a pretty present for him. The look is weighty and dark, which Taehyung has never had while looking at you. 

Suddenly embarrassed, you drop your gaze as Taehyung approaches where you kneel. 

“Are you ready, bun?” Taehyung’s question is softer than the look he gives you. 

You nod in return and hope your nerves aren’t visible to Taehyung’s loyal fans. It would suck to fuck this up for him, as much as he annoys you. Admittedly, ever since that impromptu threesome with Jimin, Taehyung has been acting different around you. He’s been almost… sweet. 

Taehyung takes out a black, wide-end riding crop from the purple box. He hits the palm of his hand with it a few times as though testing it out. He looks good, the muscles in his biceps shifting and bulging every time he winds up to flick the crop. Your entire body shudders when his dark eyes flit down to meet yours. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to speak up, hm?” 

Taehyung falls into character quicker than you expect. It gives you whiplash watching him push back his hair, now a light minty color that looks pretty against the pink surrounding you, his gaze an oppressive force crushing you harder than the rope ever could. Your attention briefly falls on the laptop when a few pings ring out. 

What if people don’t like you? What if you don’t do well? You’d agreed to do this because Taehyung wanted to expand his portfolio, just like every other time you agreed to spend time with him. You both know that isn’t why you’re here, even if neither of you want to say it out loud. 

“Bun.” Using the flat end of the crop, Taehyung lifts your chin to look at him instead of the laptop. “Don’t think about them. Just focus on me, okay?” 

“Okay,” you breathe, suddenly feeling lightheaded. 

Taehyung drags the crop down your chest, tapping lightly at your tits to watch them bounce against the black rope. Goosebumps rush across your skin like waves in the wake of the crop’s path down your body. 

“How many should I give you?” 

You blink a few times, eyes suddenly bleary as you watch Taehyung walk around to stand behind you. The camera captures your side profile, allowing viewers to see you and Taehyung clearly. Despite Taehyung’s reassuring words, it’s hard not to think about the anonymous people watching Taehyung caress your body. 

“How many what?” Your breath hitches when Taehyung’s hand replaces the crop to run up the length of your spine until he reaches the back of your neck. 

“For your punishment, bun. How many hits do you deserve?” Taehyung asks, his voice with a deep timbre. “Lean forward.” 

Taehyung squeezes the back of your neck and pushes, forcing your upper body down a bit further while you stay kneeling. Lifting the crop, he smacks your ass three times in quick succession, each hit a sharp sting that makes your body jolt. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp as you struggle to keep your balance. “Is that really necessary?” 

Taehyung clicks his tongue, and even though you can’t see him, you’re sure he has an infuriatingly smug look on his face. 

“Count them,” he murmurs loud enough for the stream to pick up. 

It’s strange how pliant you become with each hit. Something about the pain zaps something in your brain, sending your nervous system haywire until the stings turn into pleasure. Taehyung focuses each hit on the same spot until your skin becomes tender, but he doesn’t stop until your entire body shakes. 

“T-twenty,” you count with a shudder, tears lining your eyelashes and fingers squeezing the ropes on your chest to give you something to hold onto, though it does nothing to ground. 

“Very good.” It’s a simple statement, but Taehyung’s praise does something to you. Either that or it’s the feeling of the crop being dragged over your sore asscheek to dip inward. 

You gasp when Taehyung pushes the crop through your pussy, spreading your lips open and running the crop along your folds. You’re soaking wet and on edge from him spanking you, so the glide is easy for Taehyung as he begins rubbing your clit. The crop is warm from your body heat, and though the shape is sharp and angular, any amount of stimulation feels good. 

“Please,” you beg, bending forward further to expose more of your pussy. 

The ropes around your legs keep your thighs spread, putting you on display for easy access. Even though you can’t see it, you’re sure your arousal glistens in the bright lighting, and you can feel your juices leak down your folds. 

Taehyung runs his thumb through your pussy lips, swishing your arousal around, dragging up and down your clit before he eventually sinks his index and middle fingers into your pussy. 

His name almost slips out when your thighs begin to shake. You want to call out his name and beg him to fuck you, even though everything in you doesn’t want to give him that satisfaction. It’s just too good, and you haven’t fucked since that time with Jimin. Taehyung said it would be better that way to help with your nerves, but now you’re feeling desperate, and you hate the feeling of needing to be filled. 

“Fuck, look at you. You like being tied up like this, don’t you?” Taehyung smirks when he tosses the crop to the side and uses his other hand to stimulate your clit while he continues fucking you with his fingers. 

You moan loudly, completely forgetting about the people watching Taehyung getting on his knees to finger you, twisting each time he pulls out, just to plunge back in and press downward to stimulate your front wall. 

Remembering the rules, you swallow your pride and do what Taehyung wants. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

It’s humiliating to call Taehyung that. You hate it, but you can’t say his real name on air, and this was what he’d told you to call him – or else you’d be punished. He won’t let you cum if you don’t behave. Though you can’t deny how good Taehyung sounds when he groans at the name, nor how good it feels when he speeds up his fingers. 

“Say it again,” Taehyung murmurs, leaning forward to press his bare chest to your back so he can reach your ear. “Baby, say it again.” 

“Yes, daddy.” 

“Fuck.” 

Grabbing your hips, Taehyung yanks you back so he can switch places with you, now kneeling in front of you. Being on this side gives him a better view of the livestream chat. Whatever he finds there makes him smile, something lopsided and suspicious. 

“They do have a pretty pussy, don’t they?” Taehyung grins into the camera, reaching forward to cup your pussy. He crowds your space, forcing your face against his crotch when he leans in. 

Despite how embarrassing the action is, you mouth at the bulge in his joggers.

“Hurry up,” you whine, knowing Taehyung might scold you but uncaring. “Fuck me already.” 

A slap to your tender ass makes you cry out in pain. 

“Our friends think I need to do something about your bratty mouth, bun,” Taehyung points out with his arms crossed against his firm chest. “They’re right, of course. You’ve always been so bratty with me.” 

“Fuck you,” you hiss quietly, both hoping no one hears you and also that they will.

“You’re cute when you’re acting like a slutty little bitch.” 

Taehyung tongues the inside of his cheek and turns to the box that had held the riding crop. The insults scratch some itch in the back of your brain, and your pussy betrays you by pulsing with need. 

From the box, Taehyung pulls out a pink cordless wand vibrator. The head is smooth and fat, the rest of the wand sleek like Taehyung’s fingers as they grip around the handle. Anticipation burns in the pit of your stomach while you wait for Taehyung to turn the wand on and press it against your swollen, neglected clit. 

Instead, once the wand is on, Taehyung presses against the bulge in his joggers.

“Oh my god,” you moan as Taehyung drags the wand up his cock until he reaches the head. He circles it slowly, hips subtly thrust forward. 

It makes sense that people pay to watch Taehyung masturbate. He’s pretty when he does it, staring directly into your eyes as he whimpers, breathy and sweet.

Each of his little moans makes you wetter, and your body continues to tremble with need. It’s so unbelievably hot how he tilts his head back, exposing the V of his jaw and his Adam’s apple, bobbing each time he swallows. 

“Do you think I’m pretty, bun?” Taehyung smirks, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he finally removes the wand from his clothed cock. It’s hard to see the wet patch in his clothes from how dark the material is, but you know it’s there. 

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper as Taehyung grabs a hold of your jaw and gives you a quick but firm squeeze that pushes your cheeks inward.  

“I know you do.” 

Letting go of your face, Taehyung hooks his thumbs in his joggers and pulls down far enough to take out his cock. It bobs and hangs heavy in front of your face, close enough that the tip brushes your cheek and smears precum across your face. 

“Be a good bun and suck my cock, yeah?” 

Not needing to be told twice, you lean forward to lap at the precum dribbling from Taehyung’s slit, making him groan. His body trembles slightly as you suck him into your mouth, and it feels good to know you’re not the only one affected.

Reaching for the wand again, Taehyung runs the tip along his shaft as you suckle the head of his cock. You can feel the vibrations in your mouth, and the sensation seems to travel down the rest of your body as your pussy pulses. 

“Fuck,” Taehyung moans, throwing his head back as you take more of his cock down your throat. “Don’t go any faster. Keep it nice and slow.” 

He only lets you suck him off for a bit longer, just enough to get his cock nice and wet from gagging around him. Then he tugs on your ropes, pulling you off of his cock as you gasp for air. 

“You okay?” Taehyung brushes his thumb against your bottom lip, wiping away spit and precum, you’re sure. It��s disgusting, but he’s so gentle when he does it that your face grows hot.

“I’m fine.” 

“You look pretty like this,” he murmurs. “I can’t wait to fuck you, baby. Been thinking about it for weeks.” 

It isn’t until Taehyung cradles the side of your face and slots his lips with yours that you realize you haven’t even kissed. You usually don’t, too caught up in the carnal need to consume each other in other ways.

But kissing Taehyung feels good.

He holds you gently as your lips glide together, Taehyung tasting himself on your tongue and moaning into your mouth when he does. You pant against each other in between kisses, Taehyung using the opportunity to bite and suck on your bottom lip until you’re pushing yourself against him, seeking more. You just want to be close, closer. 

“Turn around,” he breathes against your spit-slicked lips. It isn’t easy, but he helps you move until you’re facing away from him. 

Without being told, you begin to lower your upper body onto the floor, but Taehyung stops you with an arm around your chest. 

“Wait.” It’s spoken against your ear, his breath hot like your core as it pulses when you realize what Taehyung is doing. 

He turns on the wand to the lowest vibration setting and carefully slips it through the rope wrapped around your hips. Placement presses the head of the wand directly to your clit. 

“I can’t,” you squeak, hunching over as the subtle vibrations ripple through you. Normally, the setting would be too low to get you off quickly, but Taehyung has been edging you this whole time. 

“It’s okay if you cum, baby. I wanna see how many times I can make you cum.” 

Taehyung bites the curve of your ear before shoving the middle of your back until your upper body rests on the floor and your ass is in the air. He’s gentle when he presses his cock against your entrance, the glide easy from how sloppy wet you are. You can hear him bottom out, the sound of your arousal gushing around his cock with each wet slap of his thighs against yours as he thrusts in and out of you. 

It only takes three deep strokes before you cum, pussy fluttering around Taehyung’s cock and your body shaking underneath him. The ropes prevent you from wriggling and writhing, and the vibrator on your clit prolongs your orgasm. You feel like it never ends, just wave after wave of pleasure, making your body lock up. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, Tae-” You’re cut off by Taehyung’s hand slapped across your mouth. 

“Behave, bun,” he growls, never letting up his pace despite how violently your body reacts to the prolonged orgasm. 

Grabbing the rope tied around your back, Taehyung pulls on it, forcing you to rock back and forth on his cock at the pace he wants. You’re so wet that he slips in and out of you with wet squelches loud enough to be heard by all his subscribers. 

“Oh my god,” you moan as your body rocks against the pretty sheets and fluffy pink pillows. It helps stop you from chafing against the floor, but you don’t care. All you can focus on is how good Taehyung feels, his cock filling you up and his hands tightening the hold the ropes have on the most sensitive parts of your body. 

“God, you’re always so fucking creamy,” Taehyung groans, slapping your ass to watch it jiggle on his cock. 

You feel another orgasm ripple through you, having barely recovered from the other one. Taehyung fucks you through it still and then fucks you through the next one. 

By the time you’ve cum for the fourth time, tears stream down your face. 

“Please,” you sob, the buzz of the vibrator and Taehyung’s moans flooding your brain until there’s nothing left. 

“One more, bun,” Taehyung grunts as he reaches over to pull the wand out of the ropes. He tosses it to the side and replaces it with his fingers, rubbing quick circles over your clit. “Come on, give me one more so we can finish together.” 

The remaining pressure inside of you bursts the moment Taehyung starts playing with your clit. You feel your pussy gush around his cock as you cum even more than before, so much that you can feel it leak down your thighs and soak the bed sheet below you. 

A flurry of pings reminds you that you’re on camera. You can barely think straight long enough to understand what that means when Taehyung lets out a broken moan behind you. 

“Oh fuck, you just squirted, fuck baby, why are you so hot.” Taehyung’s grip on your hips hurts when he finally cums, still thrusting even when you’ve both been pushed beyond overstimulation. 

When he finally pulls out, you sag to the floor. Your entire body aches from being tied up and pounded into, not to mention how sore your ass and clit are from the constant stimulation. 

“You’re trying to kill me,” you accuse weakly as Taehyung takes a deep breath, head thrown back, chest sweaty. He’s still wearing his joggers, and his soft cock hangs over the waistband, shiny with cum. 

“Fuck,” Taehyung groans, running a hand over his face, “Alright, that’s, that’s all for today.” He crawls over to the laptop and gives the camera a salute. “See you all next week, assuming I’ve recovered.” 

The final pings ring out from the laptop before Taehyung snaps it shut and falls back on his butt. He finally tucks his cock back in his pants and turns to where you lie, weak on the floor. 

“Shit, let me get you out of this.” 

You’re in a haze, something floaty and free, like a cloud, and Taehyung caresses your wispy body as he unwraps you. Your head lulls to the side, and you let Taehyung lift your limbs and shift your body until he’s finished with all the ropes. 

“How are you feeling?” Taehyung asks, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead. 

Content. Satiated. Happy. In love.

“Tired,” you mumble as you stare up at Taehyung. His eyes are bright, and his cheeks are a soft pink, youthful, and pretty. 

“We can take a bath and then go to bed. You’ll stay over?” His voice is a hopeful lilt when he asks, and your stomach flutters. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Taehyung’s mouth morphs into that lopsided grin you pretend to hate so much. 

“I love it when you call me that.” 

“I hate you,” you spit out, but Taehyung kisses you before you can pout more.

It’s a slow kiss, far too gentle for what you’ve all just finished doing. Taehyung sighs into the kiss, tilting his head to deepen it, though his lips glide languidly rather than rushed with need like they had before. 

You slip your arms around his broad shoulders and appreciate the stretch of being free from your restraints. 

“You did so well, seriously. I’m really proud of you. You were so sexy and, fuck. I’m…” Taehyung trails off as he helps you stand up, keeping you cradled against his body when you start to sway. “Thank you for doing this with me.” 

You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck and find no bratty comeback, only a flood of happiness that nearly chokes you. 

“Maybe we can do it again if you wanna,” you offer with your lips against his neck. His skin is salty with sweat, but you flick your tongue against him anyway, just to make him squirm. 

Taehyung pulls back slightly to stare at you. “For real?” 

“If you keep asking, I might change my mind!” 

You try to wiggle out of Taehyung’s arms, but he keeps you close. It’s fine; you don’t really want to be anywhere else but here, pressed against Taehyung’s broad frame, blanketed by his gentle attention.

Even if he is annoying. 

[whatidonthaveanyhomework]

Enjoying the view?

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: basically Natasha takes care of you after a long day (with sex)

Warnings: smut, dom Natasha, sub reader, degradation, mommy kink, biting(?), slight overstimulation, aftercare, subspace

A/N: I’ve never written anything before so idk how good this is, please don’t be mean to me

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You stumble into your house, tired from your day at work. You had overslept and spent the entire day running from meeting to meeting. All you really wanted to do was come home and spend time with your girlfriend. As you step into the house, you’re greeted with the scent of pizza in the oven. In the kitchen you find Natasha tossing a bagged salad. As you enter the room she comes over to you and leans in for a kiss. 

“Hi detka,” she mumbles against your lips, pulling you into a tight embrace. You breathe in the scent of her shampoo, reveling in the soft domesticity of the moment. 

“Hi love,” you respond, as Natasha pulls back, placing another quick kiss on your lips before returning to her salad. 

“How was your day?” She asks, pouring the salad dressing packet into her salad as you lean against the island in your kitchen. You sigh and roll your eyes. 

“Well, I woke up and my girlfriend wasn’t there to kiss me, and then I nearly missed the bus, and then Steve sent me to all my meetings and then all of Wanda’s since she’s on sick leave, and I got curry on my pants at lunch,” you complain. Natasha gives the salad a final toss before pulling you into another hug, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back. 

“I’m sorry angel. That’s exhausting,” she consoles and you nod, pulling her body closer to yours.

The timer on the pizza beeps, and Natasha pulls away, placing an apologetic kiss on your hairline. She takes the pizza out of the oven, and the two of you set the table to eat. 

During dinner, Natasha keeps close to you, always in physical contact with you in some way. You lean into it, grateful for the comfort in your tired state. After dinner, the two of you head upstairs to shower before getting in bed. You climb into the shower and take turns washing each other before changing into pajamas and climbing in bed together to watch a show. 

Climbing into bed, Natasha pulls you onto her lap, holding you against her body tightly. You place your head on her shoulder to admire your girlfriend, noticing her soft lips and ample cleavage her tank top provides. You breathe in her scent, mostly ignoring the show you’ve both seen a million times. 

Natasha looks down at you, an amused smile gracing her lips. 

“Enjoying the view?” She teases and you blush, casting your eyes downward, and nod. 

“Yes Natty,” you say, suddenly very shy. Natasha chuckles softly, lifting your chin with a single finger to meet her gaze. You look into her eyes, and see them darken, heat pooling at your core. Natasha pulls you in, lips meeting. 

The kiss starts soft, but quickly turns more passionate as Natasha takes control, forcing your tongue back into your mouth. You moan softly at the sensation, and Natasha pulls you impossibly closer, her fingers tangling in your hair as the other hand grips your waist. 

Throwing your arms around her neck, you move to straddle your girlfriend’s lap. Natasha trails kisses down your neck, and you sigh at the sensation. She finds your pulse point and sucks on it, leaving a mark. You whimper, wanting more. 

“Oh darling, is someone needy?” She asks in a condescending tone that goes straight to your core. “I need words, detka,” she says, as you try to retake control over your voice. 

“Yes.” You whine, fiddling with the hem of her shirt. 

“Well, I guess we should do something about that, shouldn't we detka?” She asks, her voice dropping an octave. You nod adamantly as she maneuvers the two of you so that the two of you are laying on the bed, with her on top of you, straddling your waist. Natasha yanks your (her) shirt off your chest, which she quickly follows with her own. 

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sight of your girlfriend shirtless on top of you, and you nearly moan when she grabs your wrists and pins them above your head, leaning down to kiss you again. 

The kiss is all tongue and teeth and you groan as Natasha bits softly on your bottom lip. 

“Oh, does my babygirl like it when I bite her?” She asks. 

“Yes Mommy,” you sigh out, desperate for her to touch you. Mercifully, she also seems desperate to move her touch lower, and runs one of her hands over your chest, rolling your nipple between her fingers. 

“Fuck,” you cry, back arching up into her body and squeezing your legs together to try to aliviate the ache. Natasha lightly slaps your chest, and you can feel more arousal pooling in your underwear. 

“Watch your language detka,” she commands. “Only good girls get to come.” You nod, breaking eye contact. 

“‘M sorry Mommy. I’ll be good,” you say, and are rewarded a moment later by Natasha’s mouth on your chest as her hands travel down to your stomach, tracing random patterns there before following lower, lifting your hips to pull your pajama pants off. 

She pulls your legs open, dragging her nails lightly down the inside of your thighs. Bringing her hand further up, she ghosts her fingers against your folds over top of your underwear before pressing softly on your clit. You whine, but hold still, knowing Natasha won’t take kindly to you chasing her fingers. 

“Please touch me,” you wine, earning a low chuckle as the redhead slips your underwear off and starts lightly rubbing circles around your clit. You whimper, rolling your hips lightly against her finger. 

“Hold on a second sweetheart.” She said, removing her hand from your clit and planting an apologetic kiss on your lips. You grumble at the loss of friction, pressing your legs together to try to alleviate the ache between them as Natasha rummaged through her nightstand drawers.

“Ah ah keep those legs open for me love,” Natasha said, yanking her harness over her hips. You pull them apart again, whining.

“None of that sweet girl. Let Mommy take care of you,” she said, teasing your entrance with the tip of her strap before sinking into you. You let out a strangled moan. 

“Oh baby do you like that?” Natasha teases, thrusting into you hard and deep. 

“Y-yes Mommy,” you respond, eyes rolling back in your head as you hold the sheets below you in a death grip in an attempt to ground yourself. Natasha speeds up, enjoying your desperate state. You bite your lip, trying not to scream as the pleasure mounts inside you. 

“Ohh baby you look so pretty falling apart for mommy,” Natasha says. She leans down over you, grabbing one of your boobs to gain leverage so she could thrust harder into you. 

“Mommyyyyy,” you moan out. 

“What do you need, princess?” She asks, leaning closer to ghost your mouth. 

“C-can you please bite me?” You ask, your breathing speeding up as you approach your climax. 

“Aww, my dirty girl wants to be bitten?” Natasha mocks, kissing your neck lightly. 

“Please mommy I’m so close I’m so close please bite me,” you cry out. 

“Ok honey, you can come whenever you like,” Natasha says. She bites the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, and the coil in your stomach snaps. Pleasure washes over you, and you cry out, clinging onto Natasha. However, Natasha keeps going. 

“M-mommy what are you doing?” You ask, the overstimulation a little much. 

“Mmh-sorry princess mommy’s just so close,” Natasha says, her hips becoming erratic as the strap slams into you, hitting her clit just right. A couple seconds later, she lets out a low groan as she grips you tightly, coming. Then she collapses on top of you. 

You lay there together for a couple seconds before Natasha pulls you into a soft kiss. 

“Are you ok angel?” Natasha asks, softly tracing her hands across your body. 

“Of course mommy,” you say, pulling her back on top of you, just needing to feel her skin on yours. 

“Ok good. You did so well.” She praises, stroking your hair. The two of you stay there for a while, holding each other, before Natasha starts to pull away again. You tighten your grip on her, confused as to why she’s moving. 

“I’m sorry baby girl I have to pull out so we can clean up for bed,” Natasha says, and you reluctantly let her pull away and out, grimacing. 

“Ssh it’s ok baby,” Natasha coos, pulling you back into her arms and picking you up to carry you to the bathroom. She gently wipes between your legs with a wet washcloth, and then proceeds to lovingly wash your face and do your skincare routine for you. You lean into her touch, dimly aware of what’s happening, until you feel her place something in your hand. 

“Hey babygirl,” Natasha says as she sees your eyes focus on her. “Can you brush your teeth for me?”

You nod, lazily running the toothbrush across your teeth, as your girlfriend quickly gets herself ready for bed. She then takes the toothbrush from you, and a few moments later she’s hoisting you up and taking you to bed. She tucks you in before cuddling up behind you. 

“Night angel,” she whispers, kissing the side of your head.

“Mmm love you,” you mumble. 

“Love you too sweet girl.”

—————————————————————————

thx for reading, pls don’t plagiarize me

[1-800-jewon]

A dark thought.

Daddy k!nk, fingering, breeding, subspace, puppy!reader, human! member. IT IS DARK so if you don't like that, then don't read. MDNI.

You were his puppy, his property. He signed a contract to have you. He was the nicest out of all the men who came to see you. He knew what he wanted, an untouched puppy. Luckily, you were his first pick. He read the papers, brought here during younger years, untouched, ready to be bought. He convinced his friends and family that he found someone and that he was ready for marriage. All he had to do was buy you.

It was easy really, using sweet words and kind gestures, you were already in love. You got into his car, so excited to finally be bought. When he got to his house, you jumped out and ran inside. You ran around, smelling the new smells and seeing new things. "Are you happy that daddy bought you, darling?" You ran back to him jumping into his lap, "Daddy? Your name is daddy?" He nodded. "Thank you daddy for buying me, I love you daddy!" He went close to your ear, whispering, "Daddy loves you too, daddy is always gonna love you."

He sat you down in his lap, watching all the guests enjoying themselves at your guys' wedding. You were wearing a pretty white dress but underneath you were wearing a white silk lingerie with easy access for him. He pressed kisses to your neck and traveled up to your ear. He lightly bit it and licked the shell of your ear. You whimpered and your body shook a little. He whispered sweet things in your ear, making you slowly drift away from reality into a subspace only he could enter. "Daddy's gonna make you feel so good when we get to the hotel."

He carried you all the way up to your room. He whispered in your ear about what he was gonna do to you. He talked while you listened, eyes glazed over and head without a thought. He sat you down on the bed, unzipping your dress. His hands roamed your body as he listened to your incoherent rambling as you came back down. "Mmh, d-daddy, feels so good!" He barely brushed his fingers against your panties. "You want daddy to breed you? Get your sweet cunt knocked up?" You nodded, dizzy by the feel of his fingers. "Hmm, you wouldn't even have a choice now would you? Who owns you, puppy?" You pointed to him, humping his fingers in the process. You were barely realizing that you were still humping his hand when he moved it.

"Now tell me, puppy, who does this cunt belong to?" You looked at him, "You daddy." He smirked, taking off his clothes. "And who do you belong to?" You whimpered as he kissed you. "I belong to you daddy, you bought me so you own me." He sucked your tongue, smiling. He taught you so well, teaching you what to say and what to do. Your tail was wagging rapidly behind you.

When he left to work, he knew you’d be at home waiting for him. You’d be there, pretty collar and pretty skirt, after all you needed to be wet and ready for daddy. He’d hear about how you rubbed your bare cunt on his pillow but it never worked, you needed his fingers and dick. He trained you so well, corrupted you beyond repair. He manipulated your mind, telling you things that weren’t actually true. One of them was coming inside. You knew that daddy was always supposed to come inside you, keep it inside so it could take. You weren’t supposed to sit anywhere else but on his dick, you were his pretty cockwarmer, even while you slept. Whatever he said was right, if he needed you to have your leash on, you would.

You were happy being with him, always kissing him and needing him. He kept you right by him, needy and desperate for him, cunt always wet for him. You were sitting in his lap, his tip kissing your cervix and his hands on your chest, your tongue wrapped around his, mind far away. He knew he made the right decision several years ago, you were the perfect puppy for him.

[sapphicandgraphic]

Ride It Out — Chapter 6

Synopsis: A hurricane rolls through Philly, and Melissa invites you over to ride it out. 

Chapter: 6/?

Series Warnings: Mentions of minor violence, protective Melissa, domestic fluff, hurt/comfort, WLW smut

Chapter Warnings: Edging, subspace, good girl, praise kink, aftercare, dildo

You closed your eyes, bracing yourself against the kitchen counter.

When you finally spoke, your voice was ragged with lust, excitement, desperation, and a dozen other emotions.

“Let me show you—,” you paused, fighting for composure. 

When you finally looked at Melissa, you saw an exact mirror of your own desire. You drank in the sight, relishing the way Melissa’s eyes seem to dilate as she studied your repentant expression.

“Let me show you how good I can be?” Your voice was soft, seductive.

Melissa almost dropped the plates she was holding. She took an uneven breath.

“Go upstairs, then,” she instructed. “And wait for me in the bed.”

You had just turned to go when Melissa gripped your wrist. You looked back, already hanging on her unspoken words.

“One more thing,” she murmured. “Be quiet. Can’t have our guests rushing upstairs to check on you.”

“I’ll try,” you managed.

“Try?” She repeated faintly.

Then a mischievous look passed over her face as sudden inspiration struck. “Better gag yourself, princess. Just to be safe.”

You felt your heartbeat thudding in your ears. Could someone pass out from being so turned on?

“With what?” You whispered, feeling incapable of making even the smallest decisions. Your brain was mush, your body on auto-pilot, attuned like a magnet to Melissa’s every want.

The redhead raked her eyes up and down your figure, lingering on your shifting thighs.

“Those underwear should be just about ruined by now,” she said.

And Jesus, you felt your traitorous body reacting automatically, proving her point as another pulse of sticky arousal flooded your cotton hip huggers. You bit back a whine.

“Use them.” Her tone was careless, but her eyes were shining with playful warmth, daring you to defy her.

You walked upstairs on shaky legs. The appreciative chatter of the firemen faded, a distant, meaningless hum. You entered the bedroom and closed the door behind you, Melissa’s words ringing in your ears.

On the far wall there was a dresser. You opened the top drawer with clumsy fingers. And holy shit. Melissa’s underwear were neatly folded on one side. Lacy red g-strings, black matching lingerie sets, sexy cotton bikini cut thongs. Your mouth was watering by the time your eyes landed on the black silk pouch.

Ever since Melissa had uttered the word ‘toy’, your imagination had been running wild. What did Melissa Schemmenti fuck herself with? You reached inside. Immediately your fingers brushed against something hard and long. The object had the familiar texture of latex. You pulled out a dildo and exhaled slowly.

Turn it on and put it where my fingers were last night.

You sank onto the bed, gripping the toy cock. The sheets smelled like sex and sweat and something sweet, maybe Melissa’s shampoo. You unbuttoned your jeans, shimmying out until you were just wearing your shirt and underwear. You dragged a finger across the soaked fabric between your legs. Just that small sensation made your hips jolt forward.

It occurred to you that you should feel humiliated by what you were about to do. Your coworker was downstairs serving breakfast to a half dozen firefighters, and you were laying in her bed, about to fuck yourself senseless with her cock.

But you didn’t feel embarrassed. Your brain was pleasantly staticky, completely caught up in the game Melissa had started. The rules were so simple, so perfect. Punishing bad behavior, rewarding good behavior. And either way, you won.

You sank down into that foggy headspace even further. Here, Melissa called the shots. You were just her perfect obedient plaything.

You closed your eyes, picturing the possessive look on her face when she had caught you flirting; the sound of her voice when she said I thought you were my good girl.

How would she react when she finally came upstairs and found you? Your pussy actually throbbed at the thought. Was the other woman just as wet, just as aching for you? Was she pressing her legs together right now, trying to relieve the pressure? Was she driven to distraction, overcooking the eggs, burning the toast?

Even though Melissa wasn’t here yet, you decided to put on a show for her.

You dipped your fingers under the band of your underwear and pulled them off. Then, you balled the wet fabric up and placed it roughly in your mouth, inhaling the tangy flavor of your own slick. God, you were so desperate for her, so needy.

You swiped a finger through your exposed pussy, swollen and sensitive.

You groaned, animalistic, but the noise was muffled by your gag.

You let your legs fall open as you picked the toy up and turned it on the lowest setting. Anything more and you’d fall apart before Melissa could get upstairs.

Then you placed the head at your entrance, working it back and forth, gathering wetness and teasing yourself. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the pressure, and you pictured Melissa above you, pushing inside, filling you up.

With how wet you were, there was almost no resistance. The length of the toy slid inside you, deeper and deeper, until it could go no further, until it was buried to the hilt. You glanced down to see that it had disappeared inside you. And God, you wanted to pull it out immediately, just so you could thrust it back in—hard and fast and brutal, how you always touched yourself. But you were sure Melissa wouldn’t like that.

So you released the base of the toy and grabbed two fistfuls of bedsheets instead, hips jerking forward as a wave of pleasure built within you. Your ass cheeks clenched and your walls clenched down on the vibrating length, trying to hold your orgasm at bay. You cried out in agony at the unbearable pleasure, a pathetic noise that you barely recognized as your own voice. Somehow that turned you on even more.

Melissa had done this, reduced you to a whimpering needy mess. And only Melissa could undo this, could provide the permission you needed to let go. Until then, you’d have to endure the punishment. And you would. No questions asked. For her, you would endure anything.

————

Half an hour later, Melissa was patting Captain Robinson on the shoulder, sending him and his boys on their way.

“Thanks for breakfast,” he said.

Melissa smiled. “Thanks for the house call.”

“Anytime.” He tipped his helmet at her, then glanced at the stairs. “Where’d your friend disappear to?”

“Must be napping,” Melissa shrugged, cool as a cucumber. “I’ll let her know ya said goodbye.”

She gave the fire chief a final wave, then closed the front door, locked the deadbolt, and stilled.

She hadn’t heard a peep from upstairs this entire time.

For a second she considered cleaning the kitchen, just to extend the scene. But judging by the mess between her own legs, she didn’t think she’d last that long. The anticipation was killing her. She had to see you.

Climbing the stairs, she paused outside the bedroom door, listening carefully. There, beneath the whisper of rain on the roof, she heard it. A low whine. Your voice, faint, but unmistakeable. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

As soon as Melissa’s wide eyes landed on you—squirming, desperate, wrecked—you felt a fresh flood of arousal leak out around the toy cock. You moaned, twisting in the sheets. You had placed both hands behind your back to avoid the temptation of touching yourself.

“Fuck,” she breathed. “Look at you.”

The other woman walked slowly across the room, as if in a trance, and joined you on the bed. The low hum of the toy was barely audible, nestled between your legs. Your cheeks were flushed, there was a light sheen of sweat on your forehead.

You tried to speak, but your words were muffled by the gag.

“So fucking perfect,” she said.

You whimpered, and your hips stuttered into the air. She reached down and pulled your underwear out of your mouth. The fabric was soaked with your spit and your slick. Melissa brought it to her face and breathed in deeply.

“M’lissa,” you begged, feeling almost insane with need. “Please.”

The other woman shuddered.

She had intended to tease you, prolong this sweet torture. But the state you were in went beyond her expectations. Your eyes were glassy, glazed over; your face was so blissed out that tears had gathered and fallen in tracks down your temples, into your hair. She couldn’t deny you anymore.

“What do you want, baby?” She asked.

“Wanna come for you.” The words were broken. “Please let me.”

Melissa smiled, tracing your face with one of her fingers. She could tell your mind was deliciously blank—no thoughts except her, what she was doing to you, what she could give you. Your entire world had narrowed to this room, this moment, this punishment, this reward.

“For me?” She repeated.

Something about the sing-song lilt in her voice made you shiver. You nodded, reaching over and placing your hand on her hip, gripping the soft flesh there.

“What about your little friend downstairs?” She purred. “He can’t give ya what ya need?”

You squeezed your eyes shut. The effort of not coming was collosal, but you were desperate to earn your reward.

Melissa fisted her hand in your hair, tugging to get your attention, just hard enough that you cried out.

“Well?” She asked.

“No,” you hissed. “Only you.”

Melissa had never heard anything so sweet, so satisfying. She draped herself across your body, snaking her hand under your shirt and lifting it to reveal your tits. Each nipple was sensitive, overstimulated.

“I think you learned your lesson,” she said, ghosting her lips against yours. “But just in case it wasn’t clear…”

Then Melissa leaned down, taking one pert bud into her mouth and sucking. You arched off the bed, the mix of pleasure and pain pushing you over the edge.

“Mine,” she growled, barely audible over your high keening as you cried her name. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you finally came.

Your bare legs twitched, kicking and writhing. She placed a firm hand on your waist, holding you in place. And fuck, she could feel the dildo vibrating inside you. Melissa trailed her mouth down your stomach, biting and sucking, repeating that same word.

“Mine, mine, mine.”

Your walls clenched around the toy and a flood of wetness gushed out, soaking the sheets beneath you.

“Yours, yours, yours,” you sobbed in abject agreement.

Finally you collapsed back against the bed.

Melissa reached down and switched the toy off. You shifted, letting her pull it out of you, whimpering at the sudden emptiness. The entire length was coated in your arousal. She set it on the bedside table, then scooted closer, gathering you up in her arms, placing a kiss on the side of your head.

“You’re so perfect,” she said, voice rough with emotion. “Never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my entire life, watching you come apart like that for me.”

And you felt something warm settle in your chest at these words. You were right where you belonged, safe and sated. Your entire body felt like it was floating, untethered and boundless.

Melissa continued murmuring her praise, and it felt almost as good as the orgasm. “You’re so pretty when ya let me take care of things, let me spoil ya.”

You ducked your head, resting it on Melissa’s chest. You could hear the sound of her heartbeat, the rumble of her voice.

“I like letting go,” you said softly.  “I’ve never…for anybody else…”

“Yeah?” Melissa inhaled shakily, like your words did something powerful to her. She ran her fingers through your hair. You felt your eyelids getting heavy.

“Yours,” you whispered, fighting the pull of sleep long enough to reiterate that one word. “Yours.”

[mythicmanuscripts]

ooh, i saw one of your previous asks with jace on the edge of subdrop! could we see something with jace fully dropped and his wife taking care of him? especially with him all soft and sweet and sensitive and teary, i literally can't, what a darling. maybe he's already dropped pretty far by the time you find him for some reason, or it's a gradual thing. just lots of fluffy aftercare and making him feel good to bring him back up! both sfw and nsfw would be fantastic! thank you!!

I love how much we all enjoy torturing Jace. This blog is all about seeing pretty men and making them cry, truly incredible.

NSFW sub!Jace below the cut!

So firstly, I think Jace would end up dropping because he just doesn't want to annoy you too much? After a scene Jace always becomes this needy, twitchy little thing who needs you to hold him close and kiss his head and reassure him that he was good.

The first few proper scenes you do with him go great, and you make sure to give him as much aftercare as you can. After a few weeks of this, you end up having a quickie with him before you have to go to an event of some kind. You don't do anything hectic, and of course Jace was so good for you. You think he's alright afterwards, and so you kiss his head and tell him where you're headed. He seems alright so you go where you're needed.

What you don't realise, however, is that the moment you left the room Jace started spiralling? He thought he was alright, but then you left and suddenly he was all alone and he couldnt leave on you and he's just so scared. He begins to wonder if you've left because he did something wrong, and if you're coming back.

You're back within an hour, but by then Jace has dropped already and when you enter the room you're greeted by Jace hugging your pillow and crying softly to himself. Of course you're quick to comfort him, and even as he's this distressed he's still so pliant and lets you move him however you want. You get him into your arms and just kiss the top of his head, promising him that he did so well and you loved every second.

These words fall on deaf ears though, because by this point he’s far too worked up and upset. You can tell just how upset he is by the fact that he can’t seem to settle, can’t seem to find a position comfortable. He’s constantly squirming and whining and trying to get closer to you, ducking under your hand when you try to make him look at you.

When he does eventually calm down, he’s still all teary and sensitive, and he asks you what he did wrong with tears welling in his eyes again. Even though you try to reassure him that he was perfect, he still doesn’t believe you because in his mind if he was perfect then you wouldn’t have left.

After that you institute a rule that you won’t ever leave him after some thing like that until he tells you that he’s alright. You won’t ask him either, you wait for his word and until he says it, you assume you have to stay at his side and you’ll bring him along to anything you need to get done in the meantime.

Over time I think you’ll learn that he’s recovered or is busy recovering once he starts to speak more? When he’s in subspace and when he’s trying to compose himself again, he’s almost completely nonverbal. He’ll make whines and moans and occasionally whimper your name but full sentences are practically non-existent.

As he starts to recover, he’ll start to compliment you? He snuggles closer and mumbles how pretty you are, how good you take care of him, how much he loves you. It’s like the moment his brain is back online he must immediately go on several tangents about how much he adores you.

You once chuckled at his antics and pulled him closer, kissing his head and asking him why that’s always the first things he says. He smiles back at you and in a soft voice he just says, “I think my heart might burst if I don’t tell you” and well, now you’re the one crying.

[semicolonsspace]

Him (your favorite) (Stiles//Dylan O'Brien)

No use of names. Just pet names and Y/n.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Roleplay, unprotected sex, edging, begging, praise kink, degradation kink, Bondage (use of handcuffs), breeding kink, stretch kink(?), mommy kink, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, subspace.

"Honey, I'm home," he yells as he shuts the door. He would always do this, he would always say it's 'hilarious'. Y/n found it humorous so soon after they made it a thing she started doing it as well. But except she put her spin onto it, talking like a 1940s housewife that just got back running errands.

Y/n rounds the corner to the front door. She was wearing his favorite, his T-shirt and shorts— or at least he thought she was wearing some; She wasn't. She was doing errands around the house in his shirt—Which mostly consisted of organizing the new room they had just renovated— more like Y/n renovated because she wanted it to be perfect!

"Hello, dear," she says in her housewife's voice. He laughs at her and pulls her in by the hips to kiss her. His hands snaked under the shirt she wore and slapped her ass when he realized she was only wearing underwear and his shirt. "You tryna kill me today?" He asks in a guttural groan. Her forehead rested on his as she smiled lovingly at her boyfriend of two wonderful years. "Not currently."

He gave her a playful shrewd look. "I think I'm already dead, then," he hums suggestively as he pulls hair out of her face, then resting his hand to cup it. His soft touch sent a chill down her spine as she stared up at him with lust that was masked by playfulness. "Oh, yeah?" She starts as she bats her eyelashes. "Well, I guess I might have to resurrect you."

He looked intrigued by her choice of words, choosing a decision for himself he indulged her humorous antics. "How so?"

"By laying you on my sacrificial altar bed and extracting your life force fluids," she jokingly purrs at him. That seemed good enough for him because he slung her body over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. As he walked he shreaded his layers then threw her on their bed.

Y/n scolded him for being so careless, as she almost hit her head on the metal bed frame. She pulls him down, and pulls his shirt off effortlessly—as she had done it so many times before due to the numerous times of "catching up sex" they had due to his work. She pins his pale buffed arms to the mattress while speaking. "Now, baby. Don't you remember how I said 'I' have to extract some fluids?"

He looks up at her and smirks. He decided to indulge her roleplay and started improvising lines. "Please, don't hurt me— I'll be good— you said you needed fluids, take my spit anything but my blood!" He whined with feigning horror. But she knew he was aroused, she could feel it— feel his 7-inch cock pressing— begging to be drained by her— and if he was lucky he could have her cunt to grip her tight.

Y/n chuckles darkly, something he thought was too authentic to be in their present roleplay. "I never specified which fluid I needed, dummy."

His eyes widened when he 'realized' what she meant. "By all means, go ahead— just don't kill me— please—" he begged once more. Y/n plants a soft kiss on his pointed elf-like nose as if saying 'good.'

That led to having him cuffed to the bed for hours. Her hand wrapped around his cock— jerking it just to stop before he would release. She wanted him to explode when he did so. And she wanted it to be inside of her. She wanted to feel the familiarity of the thick warm liquid rife her up just for it to enter her cervix. She was on the pill, plus she had a few boxes of plan B she liked to keep a stack of.

"Mama! Please! Just let me cum! I'll be good!" He screams, fake tears streaming from his eyes. Some of them were genuine tears from how delicious the pleasure was.

"Will you be my little ingredient holder?" She tilted her head as she spoke, speaking in the most condescending tone she could muster. "I need lots of human sperm to make my potions, would you like that? For me to milk you dry every day?"

He lets out a guttural groan that she didn't think was part of the roleplay. This was purely him. He was enjoying every bit of this, lapping up all the attention his girlfriend gave her.

The last statement was proved by his hips thrusting into her hips in an attempt to chase his orgasm. She stops and rubs his stomach. "How many times was that? 6 times? 6 potential orgasms just for me to stop... That makes me powerful don't you think? To have the ability to stop you from doing something your body chases? It's okay though, you'll get it soon."

Then her cunt was hovering over his red cock that was tortured for the last 2 hours. He nodded eagerly as he babbled how much he needed her to finish him off— to give her the "ingredient" she needed. She sat on him, wincing at how big he was, Every time she had him in her at first she would always be shocked by how much he stretched her fluttering walls.

"Going to be the best ingredient ever— make the strongest potion," she praises, continuing their little roleplay. He didn't seem to be acting anymore due to the immense pleasure, mostly just him begging for mercy for her to finish him off finally.

"For fucks sake— please just ride me, mama— need it," he whines, actual tears falling down his face. He was ruined— disheveled. And she felt glorious; she had done that. She had made him feel so divine just for her to deny his unholy release six whole times.

Y/n clicks her tongue and slaps his chest slightly, before reaching back and squeezing his balls. By his reaction she knew it was painful from how much he groaned— a different type of groan— he needed that release and she was just toying with him— She had been toying with him this whole time. "Next time you won't finish. I may need the ingredient but I can always use other fluids," she warns darkly.

He seemed to get that she was still roleplaying and nodded, breathing a sorry that was soon sucked in as she started hopping on him, his dick curve hitting her spot every time she sheathed onto him.

Her hands rested on his pecs before finding his nipples and tugging on them harshly. "Pretty boy looks so good fucked out for me," she whispers into his ear, her one hand caressing his sweaty hair. "Only for you." His eyes flutter, his mouth staying open. She kissed him— now instead of hopping, she was rocking into him, which seemed more sensual to them as they moaned in sync, telling each other they loved each other, completely forgetting about the roleplay. Now it was just the couple of two years that have lived with each other for eleven months.

Y/n reaches for the cuffs and he shakes his head while begging a no. "Keep them on, please," he moans.

Her mouth forms a smile before opening from the pleasure. She gets an idea so they both have what they want. "Wanna feel you touch me," she says uncuffing one singular cuff. His hand immediately finds her hip while his hips thrust into her—seeming like he was trying to gain control.

"Fucking being a brat for not letting me cum, baby," he groans as he pinches her nipple. She smiles at him before kissing his neck. "Good," she whispers, before unlatching the other cuff. Then she was flipped on her stomach, her ass in the air, her face buried in the mattresses as he plunged his abused cock into her. "Oh, you feel so good—way better than your hand, that's for damn sure," he murmurs breathily. Y/n was clawing at the mattress, bratty almost pornographic moans being muffled into the light grey satin sheets.

She lifts her head finally, positioning her body to arch, her elbows propping her up as he continued to rail her pussy into oblivion. "Cum in me— wanna feel you-"

He cuts her off before she continues with a humorous moaning chuckle. "Trust me, I'm gonna fucking milk every fuckin' drop inside this pussy, gonna stuff it full so you can carry my baby," he growls, making his thrust harder to punch— not kiss— her cervix. She squeals as a sudden wave of intense pleasure knocks her out. Her vision faded black and he coaxed her, his thrust becoming sloppy before he stilled in her. He doubles over from the climax, whispering praises into her ear. "S'good, I love you so much, honey," was all she could make out.

She thought he was the one who was going to be exhausted but he kept going, his cock continuing to piston inside of her for round two. She was more than okay with it, letting him use her just how he wanted; he deserved it.

By the time he stuffs her brim full with a second orgasm, she is on her back. The cum oozed out of her cunt as he pestered wet-sloppy and open-mouth kisses all over her neck and chest. She was bound to have marks all over her in the morning. "Look at that, baby," he says as he plays with his release around the hole. He was still inside, his finger lapping up the release and stuffing it back into her.

"Fuck, don't do that, or we're doing a round three," y/n squeals. He smiles cheekily at her and stuffs his finger into her again.

His cock and his finger were both inside, stretching her to limits she never thought she would be able to with him. Then he starts thrusting slowly, his vacant hand holding her ankle in the air so he can have maximum access to his favorite toy.

"We need to get those ankle holders like hospitals have so I can fuck you better," he says between grunts. "Or a fuck machine so I can get payback."

At the mention of the machine, she screams, especially because he removes his finger and presses it onto her stomach. "Scream for me again, baby: tell the whole fuckin' neighborhood I'm breeding my little whore again."

And she did, she couldn't take his rough thrust with his hand pushing on her stomach, it made her tighter— sensitive. But she could not bring herself to stop such amazing pleasure.

His stamina never seemed to shock Y/n. It did at first, having to beg her to eat her out. She let him, barely saying no simply because it was a win-win. He would always say "I get pleasure from eating my girl out, I don't need anything else." Which she loved, it almost became a love language for him to do so. While she answer emails for her stay-at-home job—when he was home that is— he would rarely pass an opportunity to either 1: eat her out or two: fuck her while she worked— and trust the universe, he made sure she would take it while working whatever she did on her computer.

He soon got tired of the position and pulled her by her thighs, manhandling her and flipping her back on her stomach. Y/n pushed herself down the bed, her feet touching the ground in front of him. He pushed himself back in, his hands grabbing her hips so he could pull her back onto him repeatedly. His thrust was a little harder, exactly how she wanted right now, making loud pleasured moans to leave her lips— along with many praise for him for how good he made her feel.

She then pushes herself off, causing them both to stand, he gets the hint and pulls her close, grabbing by the throat to choke her. Her vision fades a bit, from the pleasure of his cock hitting her cervix and his slender hand stifling air from her throat. "I love you, honey. 'Missed you at work; 'Could only think of my beautiful girl all alone at home," he says between moans. "My good fucking girl," he growls as he moves her hair from her face just to return to her throat. His thrust never faltered either, his words, and admiration, all pushing her over the edge so hard she went limp. "Did I fuck you too dumb, baby? Awe, my poor baby." He then pushes her face back into the mattress, spreading her cheeks to gain better access to his cock moving into her pussy repeatedly. "Take me so well," he groans, massaging the fatty flesh of her rump.

Y/n was too far into subspace to talk. She could barely even comprehend his dirty words, plus the painful pleasure she had from overstimulation of her recent orgasm was going straight to her head.

He continues to fuck her, eventually picking her back up and carrying her to the bathroom—while fucking her. Her arms wrap around his shoulder lazily, his hands steadily gripping her ass to push her onto his cock repeatedly. He lays her down in the huge circle bathtub, turning the water on and continuing his work to chase his own orgasm. "Baby, fucking love you and your pussy, both of my girls make me so happy," he then doubles over, his face going for her neck, stifled whimpers escaping his mouth traveling from her neck to her ears.

Y/n holds him, her hands rubbing his back as he finishes for the third time inside of her. "I love you too, dear," she whispers. He whimpers causing her to chuckle. "Too sensitive?" She asks, feeling his dick twitch inside of her. He nods into her and she splashes water onto his body. "You wanna take a nap in the bathtub?"

He moves his face to look at her with a dumbfounded expression. "Honey, as much as I love being in your embrace, I don't want to risk you drowning."

[hypnoprincesslottie]

I really want to dive into and explore hypno, but I'm worried it won't work, Are there any good starting points you'd recommend? -💙

my advice if you're new to hypno and trying to experience it without being readily able to just enter the subspace to that extent is this... practice edging! edging makes you needy, desperate and ready to follow orders. if you don't let yourself cum and really commit to denying yourself multiple times in a row, you'll really fall into that special place of being willing to do ANYTHING for me to make you cum! after a few sessions of edging, try doing the same thing but with hypno content as your edging material <3 whether its audios, visuals, text posts or straight up erotica! anything that gets you going! make yourself edge to that a few separate times... then finally after you've held it for a long, long while (maybe 10-15 edging sessions?) let yourself cum! but only to hypno content!!!! with every sub i've suggested this to, it works like a charm! you can put yourself in a total trance with little to no help hehehe

[candyheartedchy]

Wanted to write out some self ship lore about what was going on off screen for Coffey during the Badgey episodes.

Episode: Terminal Provocations

After the events of this episode where Badgey was assumed to be reseted by Rutherford and back to normal, he eventually meets Ensign Coffey, a communications officer, who would go to the holodeck every once in a while to destress from work. Due to his helpful programming (and being created to be a virtual tutor), Badgey was curious to why the officer would always just sit inside the holodeck and never run any of the programs, causing him to pop out one day, asking if she needed any help picking one out. Startled by him at first, Coffey reveals that she never uses programs while using the holodeck because she never could decide what she wanted to pick and was embarrassed, turning down his help. Still confused by this, Badgey kept trying to persuade the ensign, showing her different hologram settings until the two found themselves just chatting. This quickly became a habit for the pair, Coffey would enter a holodeck, Badgey would pop out to great her and they would hang out. Eventually this caused the two to not only befriend each other, but also allowed them to express their frustrations in the comfort of each other too, revealing that both of them struggle from angry issues (differently) and other similarities. And soon resulting to them falling in love.

Badgey one day finally reveals to Coffey about another ensign at the time who created him and how much he loathes Rutherford (his creator/father) and wants him dead. Concerned that Badgey is becoming more fueled by revenge, Coffey tries to talk him out of it, almost conflicted since she knows how hurt the hologram is, but she also didn’t want anyone to get hurt either.

Only a few instances during this time have Coffey and Rutherford interacted. Coffey knew full well who he was and would be cold and blunt whenever they talked while Rutherford was obvious at the fact that Coffey knew who Badgey was and has been seeing him without the knowledge of anyone.

Episode: No Small Parts

Badgey creates a computer virus for Rutherford to take down a attacking ship and uses this as a way to get revenge on his creator, setting off a self-destruct sequence and then attached himself to Rutherford’s forcefully removed cybernetic implant after the ship exploded. Coffey later finds out what happens after overhearing Rutherford talking about the events one day, becoming heartbroken and assuming that Badgey is now deceased, checking the holodeck everyday for him, waiting and hoping he’ll show up again.

Episode: A Few Badgeys More

Once the implant gets discovered, Badgey takes control of a ship and goes after Rutherford. While Badgey tries to kill everyone on the other ship, Rutherford confronts him and tries to make peace, apologizing which causes Badgey to become conflicted by his desire for revenge vs wanting to forgive his creator, so he ends up separating his “goodness” and “logicing thinking” self into two different beings to continue his revenge, resulting in the creations of Goodgey and Logic-y (he ends up getting killed). Badgey then uploads himself into all of subspace communications, turning himself into a digital god, until he realizes that there was no point and saw how beautiful life was now, resulting in him leaving to go to an empty dimension to create his own universe.

After Badgey ascension, Goodgey gets taken back to the ship. After his arrival, Coffey spots him and runs over in shock and joy, asking what happened to him and why he looks different now. Rutherford explains to her what happened earlier and introduces her to Goodgey (Badgey’s good self) and how Badgey ascended to godhood. He then starts questioning the ensign about how she knew who Badgey was until Coffey confesses that she knew the whole time that Badgey wanted to kill him, causing Rutherford to be outraged that she never said anything. Coffey on the other hand is still angry at Rutherford for hurting Badgey.

So the two end up holding a grudge towards each other for a while, bothering Goodgey since he just wants them both to get along. Eventually Coffey and Rutherford comes to an agreement that Goodgey is important to them both and they start to exchange stories and details about the hologram to each other and becomes friends.

[hannybun]

HOLD ON!

been thinking about minjae & sumin with an daddy kink🙏🏼 Like,… they would get turned on even more if you call them daddy even if they’re fucking you already🤧 thoughts??

Minjae and Sumin would take turns fucking you. One who’s fucking you from behind and the other who’s jerking off to the sight in front of him.

Just think minjae fucking you from behind to the point where you enter a subspace and the other thing on my mind is how his cock hits all the right places. That’s when Sumin moves closer to your face, pinching your cheeks with his fingers.

“Enjoying how your daddies make a mess of you, slut?”

All you could do is just whine at his degrading comment, only wanting to get closer to your release…

[anony-man]

Chubformers drabble #208!

Characters: Soundwave (& Megatron - G1)

Word count: 1.4k

The habsuite’s door was sealed shut, the room empty—save for them. Them and his cassettes, which hid by the entrance and snickered indiscreetly over the havoc they caused their housing mech. Soundwave wanted to scold them within an inch of their online presence in that moment, and he would have, had he not had other things to deal with.

Other things boiled down to Megatron. Other things was the Decepticon leader forcing his way into the room, locking the door behind him, growling his gratitude to Soundwave’s cassettes and pulling out cube after cube of energon from his subspace. He had pinned the poor communications officer against his own berth, forced his way into a straddle atop Soundwave’s lap, and ever so gently yet still firmly pried the stunned and startled mech’s face shield away before pressing the lip of the first cube to his mouth.

Megatron only spoke one word to his third in command throughout that entire ordeal, but one word was still all it took. Soundwave’s tanks were already growling, and his HUD was already warning him of the same. He needed fuel, and badly. He needed the extra weight on his frame. He needed the added pounds to keep him moving.

“Drink,” Megatron said, his optics still shining brightly despite being narrowed to slits as he glared down at the poor, starving mech.

He said nothing more. Soundwave didn’t dare to say a single thing. By the door, neither Rumble nor Frenzy spoke… but they did keep snickering.

The boss wasn’t budging on the major uptick in his daily fuel intake, no matter how much they nagged. Hated to do it to him, but if he wasn’t budging… there was nothing any of his cassettes could do. Enter big boss—Megatron. There you had an answer, and the answer wasn’t as easy as nagging at the mech until he turned down his audials and forced you to jump back into his tape lock.

To no surprise of anyone’s, housing several miniature versions of big, scary Cons meant sucking up energy like there was no tomorrow. Soundwave wasn’t one to snatch the cubes out of a lesser mech, and he certainly wasn’t one to boast his need for more. Regular rations weren’t cutting it, and after the first (and last, if Megatron had anything to do with it) forced stasis lock he experienced in the public eye, poor Soundwave was forced onto a very strict, very expressive, and very indulgent diet starting that same day.

It wasn’t all bad, really. The problem was solved in the end, and Soundwave’s fuel deficiencies went away rather quickly. Still… Megatron wasn’t satisfied. He was still worried, and when he was worried, he found solutions—unpleasant solutions. Solutions that meant packing more hypothetical meat onto Soundwave’s hypothetical bones than he’d ever carried before. Solutions that meant tight chest cavities and even tighter squeezes when every last one of his minions wanted to be stored at once.

Soundwave was growing fat off of Megatron’s concerns, and despite the initial uncertainty, it benefited everyone. Who said a tight squeeze wasn’t more cushiony than bare bones and empty space between each cassette tape? Who said the sight of a soft and curvy (and most importantly, healthy) Soundwave strutting around with more embarrassment housed in his fat frame than betrayal in Starscream’s tiniest digit was a bad thing? Who was to say any of the downsides to Megatron forcing Soundwave to fatten up were anything more than bonuses wrapped up in the whole generalized “bad side effects” idea?

The point being, a fat Soundwave was a good thing. It was a great thing, in fact. The only one who didn’t seem to benefit from said change was Soundwave himself, but even then, that merely boiled down to his painful struggle with the guilt that came from visibly hauling a few extra tons on his frame.

Enter Megatron, the sole savior of Soundwave and his ridiculous shame. As it stood, forcing the mech to lie back on his berth and be fed by his commander wasn’t all that hard in the end. It was getting him to that point which was the trouble, as Soundwave had had to have done everything in his power to avoid taking the extra few energon cubes set aside just for him.

Soundwave didn’t want to become a burden. Luckily for him, he had Megatron, who was more than happy to hold him in place until every last drop of the cubes labeled for him were drained. His belly was stuffed and sloshing by the first few, and when things got harder to swallow, Megatron took it easy. He wasn’t here to cause harm, and he wasn’t here to cause any fear. He was simply looking out for his beloved mech and the dozens of mini mechs he called his own.

It took a lot out of a bot to house so many smaller bots, so of course the extra energon was necessary. What part of that did Soundwave miss?

“Five whole cubes, Soundwave,” Megatron said, the words a rumbling sound of pure disapproval and even greater disappointment as he held the mech down with one servo and popped the lid of another cube with his other servo. “Five cubes… had it not been for your minions, I don’t believe I would have ever noticed.”

It wasn’t out of a lack of care that Megatron would have missed such a huge chunk of Soundwave’s daily fuel intake being… well, taken in. He was just so busy as it was, which was why it was so important and valuable to have a handful of bots who could nag on his third whenever the strict guidelines he tried to enforce were being ignored.

The curve of Soundwave’s belly was soft that day, and Megatron didn’t fail to notice the give under his weight when he balanced on a servo to lift the next cube up to Soundwave’s face. His work wasn’t in vain, at least. They were still making good progress.

Soundwave remained silent and stoic for the majority of the feeding, save for the grumpy noises between cubes and the glares he shot across the room at his cassettes. Towards the end was when he started to struggle, his face growing hot and his vents deep.

The fuel was a challenge to take in all at once… good. Only a few cycles more and Megatron would be pushing the minimum amount of cube intake a little higher. He had to keep Soundwave fed, after all.

There was a fun sort of satisfaction to be had from the experience, but it ended all too soon. Soundwave was finished, at least, and in the end, that was what mattered most. Megatron stood up and extended a servo in offering to bring Soundwave with him, but to no surprise of his, the stuffed mech stayed right where he was—holding his belly with trembling servos and panting through each breath.

Good. This would serve as the perfect reminder to not skip out on the well-thought out schedule Megatron had made for him when it came time for each cube to be drained. Not that he didn’t like forcing it all down Soundwave’s throat at once like this. That, too, had its place in the process.

“You can thank your cassetticons for my mercy this time,” Megatron said with a fleeting pat against the bloated belly Soundwave struggled to soothe. “Next time, I may not be so kind.”

It was a bluff. He would always be kind. He would be firm, but he would always be kind.

With his work finished, Megatron moved to take his leave. Rumble and Frenzy were quick to take his place, both scrambling to crawl up onto the berth and help their boss quell the ache in his overstuffed tanks. It was sweet in amusing way, and for the umpteenth time that hour, the Decepticon leader was glad for their assistance.

“Rest, Soundwave,” Megatron said, “you are free from your duties for the day. However… you are expected in the mess hall later tonight for your last rations. Take care to remember that.”

There was no response but the groan from his third and the agreement from the cassettes. This, of course, was plenty for him. He knew he’d be seeing his third sooner or later… and this time, it would certainly be right where he was commanded to be with a cube in his servos.

[safetycar-restart]

KINKTOBER DAY 8: FEMINISATION [MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER]

NOTE: This is an NSFW fic with sub!max and dom!reader. If you're under 18 or uninterested in this, just scroll right past. If you like what you see, then check out the rest of my blog :))

This fic is part of my kinktober series where I discuss a different kinky concept with a different motorsports athlete every day. I also answer asks about the different concepts and discuss them more on my blog so if this gives you any ideas, feel free to stop by!

(AKA: Max won a third world championship and I think that warrants a new pair of panties)

You've had them picked out for weeks already, the perfect soft pink colour that would make max blush at the sight of them. They're soft and lacy, and there's no way they'll hold his cock without it looking absolutely indecent, which is exactly the point.

It's no secret how much adores getting gifted lingerie and skirts and little babydoll nightgowns. It's not something he allows himself to indulge in too often, but when he does he enters subspace so deep that he's still in it the next morning, still happy and soft in your arms and wanting to wear his pretty clothes a little longer.

If you had it your way, you'd shower max in gifts at every possible opportunity, but he doesnt allow that. He doesn't want you spending too much money on him, and he doesn't like to be given things if he feels he hasn't earned them, even if he so clearly had.

So once it was clear he'd be winning the championship, you went about searching for the perfect scandalous gift for him. You considered a navy blue lingerie set, to match red bull's main colours, but then you thought about how max has always been drawn to the softer, more feminine colours and so decided against it.

Eventually you find exactly what you're looking for: a pair of baby pink lace panties with a cute little bow on the front. They're soft and so feminine and the perfect shade of light pink. You know max will blush so much when he sees them, and that they will become favourites (assuming they don't get ruined the first time round, but you save the link to them in case you need to buy another pair).

You have it wrapped up and waiting in his driver's room. When he sees it, he blushes because he knows it's from you and he knows it'll be something indecent.

He waits until it's just you and him in the room and unboxes them.

"For me?" he asks, like there's any other option. You nod, telling him that he's gonna look so pretty in them and he smiles, asking if you guys can head back to the hotel.

He has to race the next day, so he can't go out partying. But this? He can do this. He can absolutely do this.

You take him back to the hotel room, instructing him to shower and change into his new panties, wearing nothing else. He does as you ask, of course.

Praising him as he walks out makes him blush all the way down his chest, looking down because he can't meet your eyes. You can see how his cock starts to harden at your words.

You treat him softly, because that wrecks max far more than any harsh treatment ever would. He can take spanking without any reaction, but if you praise him and softly stroke his hair he'll break down crying.

You start off by making him kneel for you and just talking to him. He has to kneel there with his arms behind his back and keep his posture while you speak, and you tell him all about how proud you are of him and how lucky you are to have him as your sub.

By the time you're finished speaking, his cock is leaking in his pretty panties and tears are running down his cheeks. You've barely touched him and he's already right where you want him.

Then you sit him across your lap, stroking him through his panties until he's sobbing and begging for relief.

[11092234]

HEATED

(prowl.gn.cybertonian.reader)

While rooked into a case he needs to solve, and aside from getting a new partner for, well, reasons — the enforcer is faced with a certain 'predicament' he needs tending.

reader is taller than prowl btw. like, a little bit taller. Or like super tall. I just like the height difference ok. ever since I saw this fanart I just went AWOOGA he's so ndjdjdn his waist damn. I need him submissive. posted this at one am too :D warnings : mild robot gore, and mentions of valve spike. all that stuff.

CHAPTER ONE

UP at the south, Kaon's underground road network hasn't been fairing well these last few solar cyles. The tunnel, swarthed in ink, stretched across from both sides of the labyrinth with each end unseen, fading off into the deep chasm. The only light source now was Swindle's flashlight that lit a soft halo on the ceiling.

The tunnel was extremely obscure under radar. After several Deceptions attempted another revolutionary feat it was then banned of entry. You can barely trace any energon trails entering and leaving the tunnel. Small wonder it was chosen as a hideout — disregarding, of course, the daily patrols now that occured at fixed intervals.

Grimacing, he shifted on his pedes to avoid the murky puddle on his right. The shroud of sulfuric egg, rotten scum and the churn of garbage danced by, and Swindle wouldn't have chosen this place at all if it weren't for the pleasureable sum he's about to be gifted with.

This better be a good deal.

And, on cue, the silhouette of a mech emerged from the shadows, quelling any sense of irritation he had for the late timing. Chastise would be normally an appropriate response. But he figured there'd be no point about huffing now when he's sure this mech's not a force to be reckoned with — and is frame shouldn't be : optics a darkly blue, gold platings a pulsing radiance under the beam of light.

He's a physical embodiment of a shanix-jacked aristocrat. The ones those 'cons' would surely give a good beating to. Him, on the other hand? They're good customers. The best, if any.

"Traffic, eh Senator?" Swindle approaches, servos itching for a good deal. He's already skimming through the many treats he's got under his sleeve.

"Hardly." He grunts with a dismissive wave. "Just some mindless cogs trying to interfere with my work. I ought to establish some policy to prevent them from being this, ugh, trying."

"Believe me, those coppas are as persistent as sparkeaters leechin' off a snuffed mech." He mused.

The mech laughs, a deep rich rumble pricely enough to conjure gold bars. "It's a mystery to know when they'll emerge unannounced."

" Now, onto business. What do we have, here?"

Between them, a barrier, is a table. Producing a rectangular black box from his subspace, the mech sets it down on the surface. Inside, a clink of something can be heard like wind chimes fluttering against the breeze.

"All the crystals from the best of all cities and planets." He said. " Iacon, Vos, Teran, Xaraen — Camien delight, your favorite, is also a plus."

"Ohohoho!" Swindle unlatches the cover and beams at the myriad of vibrant gems. "You can't be giving me these beauties all for nothing, eh? What do I owe you the pleasure of?"

"Oh, nothing grand. I'd just like the usual."

Swindle, for a moment, visibly sags. " Sorry to disappoint but with all the bots cracking down on all of my sources. I don't got too many interesting Intel these days from hiding."

"Oh, no, no,no, no." He waved a servo to stop him." Not the surveillance. I don't need that. I've got enought. What I need, however. Or, rather — my boys on the air has been lacking in some...condiments for their next heist. See to it that they're sufficiently provided."

Now, that's a target he could aim.

"We-ell, why don't'cha just say so?" Swindle grins, interest piqued. "Y'got a benefactor to spare?"

"Quite. He's not very compliant at the moment and I'd rather he is. Could you, perhaps, 'alleviate' that stubbornness of that dear mech?"

Swindle chuckles and does a half-bow, servo on his chassis."Well, my good sir. Anythin' for the customer is a good go. It's in my policy to do so much more than just alleviate his stubbornness." He pinched his foredigit and thumb. Then, rubs it." For a small extra charge, of course."

He throws in several more shanix onto the table.

"I take it you'll be swift?"

"Quick as a turbofox in heat, I assure you."

Ivory white flashes as he grins. "Happy hunting."

THE sun peered between the dark blue clouds of the smothered the sky. Iacon and it's stretching towers loomed above like jagged mountaintops, abstract and austere in all it's glory.

Prowl grips the railings tight. He leant over and rested his helm against the cool metal. Much too cool against the feverish temperature of his helm. Slow and steady he vents, attempting to cool down his heating frame.

The chronometer beeped five thirty. He's outside. Outside in the barely risen morning, disturbed from a barely slept slumber and dragged out to barely risen city straight into a murder scene.

The scenery fleets by in a thin film of blue. Enforcers litter the region, half a mile at most, rousing nearby apartments and living spaces for questioning. Gradually, front porches open. Dawdling mechs and their slow blinking optics, half sleep-induced, are jostled awake at the sight of the officers.

A passing mech was jogging around the vicinity when he supposedly stumbled over a concrete slab. A quick double take proved it wasn't a slab but a dead mech sprawled out on the road, a mini crater indicating the weight of his fall.

And, looking up to the nearby building, where he supposedly fell, a smashed glass on the perfect teeth of windows indicated clear where the incident occured. Obviously, the mech is long gone : grey and parched of color; helm tilted to one side, optics black.

Prowl let's out another breath. It seethed through clenched dentas, hissing out as steam. His servos shook. Footsteps patter behind and Prowl grips it taut to reign it in.

"Sir? Are you—"

"I'm fine." He cuts off the mech. " Who is it?"

The junior officer blinks in surprise, a waver in his voice. "Uh— they, uh. It's someone. They...They claim to be your partner, sir." He trails off, unsure and also surprised at the prospect.

Partner? Prowl skims languidly across the ample litter of mechs bustling about. Only until his optics land on a familiar one, he nods stiffly. "They're with me. You can leave, now."

"Understood."

And not long after did his 'partner' emerged, lifting up the yellow tape, chatting with the passing enforcers amiably before sauntering towards where he stood.

"Not so bustling as I expected to be." You said. " Is it usually this quiet? Or, you could say — dead silent?"

The smaller Praxian had to take several steps back to regard you fully, an unimpressed look on his face. As usual, a loose smile eased at the gesture but you turned away to hide it.

"Enforcer." You bowed and held out a servo.

Instead, he eyes you with a cold reverie, nose raised high and haughty. "Doctor."

"Spoilsport."

And that's what it only took to carve out the familiar, seething scowl. "It's Commander, doctor."

"Actually, it's medic." You mused, optics fleeting over his frame."New paint job?"

"Excuse me?"

Even when he's scowling, the confused puppy look and the flicker of a doorwing alleviated the intimidating factor.

"You look different." You said.

"I don't."

"You kind of do."

"Just—" He rubs his face. "Just what on Cybertron are you trying to insinuate?"

" Come on, now." You nudge him. "Can't a mech compliment a good polished frame?"

Prowl makes an exasperated sound when you gesture to his body. You can't help it when really is shinier than usual. The Ivory veneer plating is practically glowing under the soft rays of the sun. Prowl, however, rubs his face.

"I take it you're aware of your current position?" He eventually says after a moment.

You rubbed your helm thoughtfully, reminiscing the words of Ironhide this morning. All you remember from the debrief was: 'He's a stick down on tha mud'. And also, a stick up his aft? A stick in or stick out? You're not sure.

"Quite." You snort. "Takes a while to get used to it. Especially when Prime didn't inform the reason why. "

"You don't need to know the details behind the transfer."

"Oh, trust me." You said. " I dont think want to, Praxian."

He regards you for a moment before shaking his head, whirling around to inspect the nearby scathes and scratches. Meanwhile, you knelt next to the body and grimaced, sliding on protective gloves. From the corner of your optics, Prowl does as well and he does it with prim and precise movements. It's been a long time since you're out on the fields.

"Why do I have to do this, again?"

Prowl tilts his helm, observing the body at a different angle, the last digit slides inside the sleeve with a plap. "You're experienced with helmichular fracture. Or, working with Cybertronian helms, for that matter."

You scanned the dried energon smeared under the poor mech's helm. Primus, how in Unicron's two aft did he get here? You swivel up. Oh, right. Falling.

"I work with the inner parts. Nothing the same like Chromedome does. That's heinous work. Mine's more on the anatomy, actually."Plating fracture, check. Spinal strut loose and fragile — check. Stiff joints, check. " Couldn't you have figured this out on your own?"

You prod the neck cables, feeling it flaccid. Prowl was silent for a moment. If he was irritated, you could tell by the scowl deepening from the reflection of the puddle beside you.

" I could," he says eventually. "But I don't need your input. I simply.... require a presence to rectify my hypothesis."

Oh? "That's a statement I never thought I'd hear you say." You mutter.

Prowl knelt beside you. He angles himself in a way you would have to look over his shoulder to see the body. The soft scent of datapad and office paperwork wafts by.

"This mech, here, is Strongholt." He said. "He's a member of the High Council. Tasked with handling ammunitions. Obviously, on close inspection it appears as though this body is conformed to the fall."

With the way he worded it, you're sure he doesn't think that way.

"The spinal struts is smashed." You said, optics quick and scaning. "....and everything else is broken. It could be ruled out as suicide but with you here I don't think that's the case."

He lets out a sound you're not sure if it's a conceding one or something else entirely. But he juts out a digit and you look at where he points. Disregarding the scratched plating, some regions of the surface were unusually glossy and some were worn.

"He hasn't gotten his plating polished." Prowl says.

"A bit late for that now, don't you think so?"

"He rushed all the way here in the dead of the night. Why else would he do that?" Prowl rests a servo on his face, mumbling into it thoughtfully. " Senator Stronghold is have said to taken care of his plating with precise delicacy. But this time—" Slowly, he traces a digit along the platings. " —Observe the fringes. It seems indelicate along the seams. His arm is polished but the rest isn't."

"Oookay." You try to grasp the pieces together. Trying to fit in the missing cogs from the machine. "So, he didn't jump. Is that what you're saying?"

"Not suicide."

" Then, what could it be?"

"He brought himself to a place." He muttered. " To somewhere. Unless it's someone and if he complied then it's not a matter of force-handing, is it?"

"I'm assuming things aren't as what they seem to be, apparently."

Prowl taps his thigh in an irritated manner. Either he was talking to himself or to you, it was hard to tell. But with how he disregarded your questions and looks — it was obvious he's cooped up in his thoughts.

"Dragged up there." He continues the muttering to himself. You noticed he's a little restless with the mini-movements he makes. From the rock of his kneeplates and the subtle, but often, flick of his doorwings. " No, down here. He walks. Over there. Then, close to the pole. How many footprints?"

You snapped out of your thoughts with a jolt, scrambling for an answer at the sudden question. Lamely, you said. "Five?"

"No, it's three." He waves at you dismissively. "Foot prints indicate long exposure to standing. Disagreement ensues. Blunt force trauma to the helm. Dragged up—" On cue Prowl swivels up. "Then pushed. Guise of a murder. Two mechs. An accomplice, to be precise."

" A what— Wait— so, hold on." You tug him close, lowering your voice. " He orchestrated his own death?"

Prowl leans away.

"Were you even listening to what I said?" He gives you an incredulous look." If you have so much to lose, would you really do that?"

You groan. He's not helping one bit."You're being real cryptic right now and I'm trying my best."

"No, not orchestrated." He vents. " That'd be ridiculous. But miscalculations did occur during the 'composing' of the Orchestra. He's compliant all but for the money. Both a victim to his faults and thinking."

You turn over his words in your processor. The lingering feeling that this isn't some kind of suicide rules out clear and Prowl had, somehow, figured it beforehand.".... You dont need me here to help you figure out case, don't you?"

He gives you a look that basically confirms it : a smug, but begrudging tug of his lips.

"I need you to confirm a certain theory." He points to the helm. " Blunt force trauma — Zero point."

You move over to the chassis and unlatched the plating. As expected the spark chamber indicated clear signs of restrictive energy flow from the burnt out, damaged ports. This could only occur if—

"He had suffered heavy blunt force trauma." Prowl stands up, gripping the railings with a vent.

" So, this is murder." You follow him, pacing around, a bit reeling from the new turn of events. "Its— it's murder, right?"

" We can't prove it is yet. We..." He trails off, then shake his head. "Tommorow when the warrant comes we'll able to consult his company....and...."

"Prowl, mech. You good?" You turn to the Enforcer who's looking a little off to be well, right now. "Hey, you need a moment?"

Crime scenes aren't the most pleasing sight to behold. Especially, the brutality of it all. You just didn't expect Prowl to be affected this badly.

" I'll—" He clutches his chest, shudders and groans lowly, stumbling forward.

"Prowl!" You caught him before he could hit the ground and instantly limps against your body, venting hard.

His frame was warm. So warm that once you touched his shoulder every moisture on the tip of your digit sizzles into steam. He's shaking and Primus, he's burning!

"You're sick and you didn't tell me?!" You laid him against the railing, loosening his taut platings to let air inside. Steam practically chuffs out from the pistons, smoldering your face with vapor when you unlatched the clips.

"I'm not sick." Was his weak protest and he pawed your servos away, attempting to get up. "The warrant—"

"Don't even try." You push him down. "Your optics are glazed! Plating is burning even worse than a typical fan-clog fever!"

"I'll get through it." He grits out.

"I'm sending you back. Doctor's orders."

He lets out an exasperated sound. " You're stalling the process! I need to solve the case before some overcharged single brained processor messes it up. "

"And you'll smelt into alloy by then, little mech." You clicked on your comm. " I'll deal with the body and I'll deal with the paperwork. You, on the other hand, need ratchet. If you preach for efficiency — then be compliant to it. "

Prowl opens his intake but ozone burns his tongue and another shudder sears through his platings. He turns away from you, groaning lowly. Maybe it's better if he complied because, right now, all he feels, is like a mech doused in gasoline and set on flames.

"Will you be fine?" Ratchet cocks a brow

Prowl grunts, swinging his legs off the medical berth. " I'll manage."

"Sure? Your internal processors are charged up than usual, Prowl." Ratchet grimaces at the datapads. Doesn't look much too good, if he had to be hoenst. " I wouldn't recommend you going about your tasks if you don't want your battle computer burning out out."

Prowl keeps quiet. He can feel the wanton heat pooling in his panel, itching, clawing to be spring free and abuse.

" Prowl?"

He sucks in a breath. "I need to go." And with that he turns on his heel and leaves.

He shouldn't have known it would be today. Especially, when the signs are clear enough these past few weeks : frequent mood swings, strange cravings at strange hours

He could've have pieced it all together and prevented the inevitable — but when he onlined this morning on his berth and felt the familiar trickle of lubricant coating his inner thighs, it was over.

He was too late.

Heat cycles.

Just the worse.

It was easy to know when it's coming just as easy to know it's going to get worse : the numbness on the tip of your digits, restless frame, unfocused and glazed optics. The desire to lodge a hole into every walk you find. All typical sign.

Some frames are more accustomed to such a cycle. Unlike the smaller frames, larger ones are able to disperse heat more efficiently. So, it was a tolerable task to wait it out during work and return home and take care of whatever problem they had with their conjux. Even better, take heat suppressants and the charge, while not entirely taken care of, is reduced.

But given his Praxian frame slim build, demure size and all, the heat isn't so well dispersed and the intake of suppressants just happens to make it worse. His tanks are sensitive to the chemicals; he took it once and it wasn't fun taking turns purging his tank and satisfying himself.

Prowl groans, squeezing his thighs together as the words blur out from his optics. The datapad in his servos dented from his grip and he discards it on the table, landing across with a tack. Blasted report. He keeps reading the same line over and over and his processors won't digest the damn thing.

He leans against the chair and his helm tips back until his optics met the ceiling. An experimental servo glides down his abdomen and he shudders as it clamps on his heated panel. He gives it a little stroke, venting when lubricant smear the seams. A low whine churned from his throat. Prowl flushes, chagrined.

Mhn. Hot. He feels hot. So, hot. So Restless. He needs to purge out this excess energy or driving him insane. He could head out into the sparring range and punt in a few dents jn the testing dummies but he's too restless for that. He needs something and that something has to be inside and pumping his valve until he's all but a writhing mess on the floor.

The panel slides and a throbbing spike springs out. Ivory in color, grey outline, it stands at attention and the tip weeps with transfluid. Prowl slides his digits inside the swollen valve. He groans as he feels his calipers pulsing around his digits, spreading the folds out.

He can't keep going on like this.

On cue, the door opens. Prowl jolts in his seat and swivels up at the intrusion, lodging his digits deeper inside in tandem of his fluster. It was you. You're by the doorway. Stiff and straight to the brim, optics wide. The datapad you were holding drops from your servos just as your jaw had flung open in surprise

[vinestaffery]

On pleasing demand, I am here once more to deliver more angst. Since I love it so much and so does everyone else. some bits are written from medkit's and broker's point of view at the start, but it will slowly shift to yours!! enjoy!!!

cw/tw: character death, signs of potential abuse/neglect(?), mentions of injury from another proceed with caution and care!

Scythe wasn't taking anything okay anymore, and she's gotten rougher around Medkit and Broker.

Broker would struggle handling her tempers at points where he didn't know what to do.

Medkit suggested taking a break for Scythe.

Good grief. It was a bad take and ended up bad for Medkit.

Thrown out because he suggested it, it ended up with him now staying with Sword more than with the other three.

Broker ended up leaving himself and staying with Zuka for a bit before finding a proper area to take shelter in.

Scythe was becoming more... explosive, dangerous

She was taken out of the gang! Matches a few times because she had nearly harmed Boombox to the point of recognition.

"I'm too tired to fight anymore,"

"Broker."

"We can't do anything to help her, look at her!"

"You wouldn't understand how it's like to have someone walk out on you,"

"But it just… I just can't handle it. She's gotten more worse and we are sitting here and watching."

Broker and Medkit would have long talks with eachother at nights

Their worried, really worried

Your not there anymore to help support Scythe anymore

So what's the point?

You were the light in her world, and you walked out on it.

When Vine Staff told you about the serious injury she had gotten from Scythe

You panicked.

Was she actively looking for you?

Was she trying to harm people you loved and cherished?

Vine Staff reassured you it was nothing like that at all

Infact, it was because she was upset that you had disappeared

"Dearie, you know how much Scythe appreciates you, maybe you should try approach her this time?"

You were surprised!! To see her again?

"Are you joking?"

"[…]…"

"There is barely a person in her anymore, Vine Staff."

You were deny any chances of seeing her again, but it wasn't too long till Medkit was invited over.

God was he relieved to see you

It ended up being more of a nicer talk with him rather than a forceful one

Turns out he found it understanding and that it was okay for you to leave for your own sake

But leaving out of nowhere was a no-go, specifically for Scythe

"It wasn't suppose to go this far."

"You know how she is, especially with news such as that,"

When Vine Staff had come home that one day, with a large wound, you really wished it didn't go this far to hurting a companion

"I'm too tired of this,"

"So am I, just like how I am with Subspace's worthless attempts at capturing me and taking out 'revenge,' but we can't have everything we want."

His blunt attitude always felt like home.

"She can't keep doing this, she just can't."

"Then come home, and then maybe this all can end."

You took that hope, even though you were at your wits end.

The rough sound of sizzling coming from the home was pushed over with clashing. The tension in the air was palpable as you made your way back to the source of the conflict.

The smell of burnt food wafted through the air, adding to the chaos of the situation. You knew you had to intervene before things escalated further. As you entered the kitchen, you saw the source of the conflict - a pot left unattended on the stove, billowing smoke.

"Scythe?" You called out, hoping to get their attention before the situation got any worse. The sound of footsteps approaching indicated that they had heard you, giving you a sense of relief that the situation might be resolved before any real damage was done.

"What." Scythe turned to face you, their expression a mix of annoyance and surprise. "I just got distracted; I didn't mean for this to happen," they explained, gesturing towards the smoking pot. You could see the tension in their shoulders ease as you reassured them that everything was under control.

It had looked like she had completely forgotten who you were; did she not find your presence familiar? The sound of her tail-shaker sensed an obvious threat and danger towards you. She spat with venom in her words. Her hostility grew ever more.

"Scythe, it's me," you muttered. But she continued to glare at you, suspicion evident in her eyes. It was clear that something had changed in her demeanor towards you, and you couldn't help but wonder what had caused it.

"What do you want? I thought you wanted to never see me again." Her words cut deep, leaving you feeling bewildered and hurt. The distance between you seemed to grow wider with each passing moment. You looked away in disdain.

"What? You just going to stand 'der like a lost puppy?" There was nothing familiar about this Scythe at all. She was cold—not the kind-hearted woman you used to know before. You realized that the warmth and familiarity you once shared with her had vanished. She was replaced by a sense of hostility and indifference. It was a painful realization that left you feeling lost and alone in her presence. "Scythe? What happened to you?" Your words were hard for her to comprehend. Scythe's eyes hardened, a flicker of recognition passing through them before being replaced by a steely resolve. "I've changed," She said it simply, her voice devoid of emotion. It was clear that the person you once knew was gone, replaced by someone unrecognizable and distant.

"I've changed, and I'm not even sure who I am anymore. Broker left; Medkit left. Everyone left." She placed a cold cup of alcohol down. Taking a deep breath, you tried to find the right words to reach the person who seemed like a stranger now. But as you looked into her eyes, you realized that this was a battle she was fighting alone, and all you could do was stand by and watch.

You sat next to her on the dusty bar stool. Feeling helpless, you silently offered your support, knowing that sometimes all someone needs is a listening ear. The silence between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together. "We've both changed."

"I harmed you; I broke your promise, Angel Eyes. I broke everything." Her tone spoke of long, restless nights. "We can't change the past, but we can move forward together," you whispered softly, reaching out to hold her hand. "I forgive you, and I'm here for you now." The weight of her burdens seemed to lift slightly as she squeezed your hand in return, a glimmer of hope shining in her tear-filled eyes.

"Ya, promise? Angel Eyes?" Scythe gleamed.

"Promise, Scythe. I'll never leave your side," you vowed, feeling a sense of peace settle between you both. The bond of trust and understanding between you spoke volumes as you both navigated the uncharted territory of change and loss together.

But that was only nights ago. Scythe stared at her bloodied blade as she let out somber tears. The weight of her burdens seemed to return, heavier than before; she had killed you. All because you had decided to protect the flower demon that you considered family. Something she wished you considered her.

"Angel Eyes, oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, my angel eyes." Scythe's voice trembled as she whispered your name, regret and sorrow evident in her every word. The bond you once shared is now shattered, leaving only heartache and a painful realization of irreversible consequences.

RUNS AWAAYYYY

[phightingheadcanons]

More sonic fandub quotes because it must go on to infect the other phighters. I couldn't contain it to just Coil, Skateboard, Boombox and Slingshot.

*Subspace, Hyperlaser and a Biograft entering Lost Temple*

S: Ah the desert! Count how many sand is here Biograft, that's your first task!

B: OKAY, 1, 2, 3, 4-

H: Subspace why would you do that??

.

Shuriken going up to Katana: That's right everybody it's me, your favourite boy!

Katana: GET THE #### OUT-

.

Hyperlaser: Alright I need to update my audio equipment *cocks his gun or something* I have updated my audio equipment.

.

Coil: Subspace! Sub-face! Sub-poopy-poopy-butt

Subspace: Don't you ever ####### call me that ever again, I'LL KILL YOU- *Freaking dies*

.

Scythe: Uh hey bing bong! Hey wassup, you're doing a bad job.

Medkit: I know I'm doing a bad job!

.

Darkheart: Hey Zuka! It's me the Devil! I love you! I'm having so much fun with you :D

Zuka: Thank you?? I suppose??

.

Subspace would quote the whole of Eggman's announcement and it would be direct at Coil. I'm not writing all that tho.

🧡🩵-anon

(small warning for eggman’s speech)

[SUBSPACE]: “I've come to make an announcement: Coil the Inphernal's a #####-### ######ph######.

He pissed on my ph####### (nonexistent, as Subspace’s stench—which can eradicate a small population of Victorian children—prevents anyone, including females, to come within a 45 mile radius of him) wife.

That's right, he took his hellhound-ph######' blocky #### out and he pissed on my ph####### (nonexistent) wife, and he said his #### was "THIS BIG," and I said "that's disgusting," so I'm making a callout post on my Twitter.com: Coil the Inphernal , you've got a small ####. It's the size of Medkit’s crystal except WAY smaller. And guess what? Here's what my #### looks like.

[Explosion sounds] That's right, baby. All points, no blocks, no pillows — look at that, it looks like two balls and a ####. He ph###### my (nonexistent) wife, so guess what, I'm gonna ph#### the Earth. That's right, this is what you get: MY SUPER LASER PISS!! Except I'm not gonna piss on the Earth, I'm gonna go higher; I'M PISSING ON THE MOON! How do you like that, Obama?! I PISSED ON THE MOON, YOU IDIOT!

You have twenty-three hours before the piss D R O P L E T S hit the ph####### Earth, now get outta my ph####### sight, before I piss on you too!”

[satureja13]

Jeb picked Sai up after his shift and they headed upstairs to the game room of Moogie's Bar. Sai was excited. Will Jeb watch the stars with him like Jack and Vlad did? How romantic!

But they walked past the loveseat with a view. Sai: "Hm? What is it then?" Jeb: "Look around the corner."

Sai: "My gaming corner?! How did you get all my stuff here?" Jeb: "I asked Noxee to sent it."

Jeb knows how much Sai needs his alone time. Jeb: "Since you don't have a room for yourself here on board, I thought you'd like to have a space of your own. Where you could do your computer stuff in peace. No one will disturb you here." Sai: "Omg Jeb! This just feels like home far away from home!"

Sai: "Thank you."

Jeb: "I'll leave you alone now. Have fun!" Sai: "Oh, I will!" All the things he can do now! The only computers on board are in the community areas or at the bridge - and there's always commotion. This corner migh be small, but it's quiet and no one will come up here once they'd started the engines and there's nothing to see out there except for the dark-greyish subspace. This is heaven for Saiwa. And Jeb made it happen.

Except - Sai didn't have fun. Did Jeb just shove him away? Stored him in the furthest corner of the ship? Sai knows how much Jeb wanted him to move into his apartment at their home in Tomarang. Did he change his mind? Sai knows Jeb too well, he probably thinks he's not good enough to be with him - again... Because Sai wants nothing more than to loose his virginity to Jeb - but Jeb can't give him what he craves.

After Jeb left Sai to have some fun in his new computer corner, he went over to his best friend, Kiyoshi. To pour his heart out.

But he's busy with Jack... again... Jeb: "Oh, I'm sorry. I'll leave." Kiyoshi: "Don't worry. Stay."

And of course Sai was right. Even after being together for so long and after talking about this so often - Jeb still thinks Sai is too precious for him... But luckily Sai's oldest friend, Jack, is here. Jack knows how much Sai loves Jeb and that he can't live without him. Sai will never give up. Neither Jeb - nor his plans to finally lose his virginity - to Jeb. And: Jack also knows that the solution for their problem is already in the works. But also - as hard as it is for 'Big Snout Jack' - he can't spill the beans ö.ö So even though it's killing him inside, Jack said: "Don't worry, Jeb. Some things you just can't force. And there's nothing you can do than to just sit it out, hm? Have faith." (TMI: This is actually one of the hardest things for me. Learn more about this (imo) important topic -> here) Jeb: "Uhm, ok..." Kiyoshi seems a bit stunned by Jack saying words of wisdom. But even this happens from time to time :3

Meanwhile Sai left his new gaming corner. He can't just sit around here and do his computer stuff in peace - he's a man on a mission. He went to their quarters - to find them empty. So he took the chance to take a bath to play with the toys again. Soon he'll be ready for Jeb's 'wand'. And it didn't hurt a bit to this point - given you take your time and go slow and prepare thoroughly, just like Jack and Ji Ho - and later also Kioyshi - told him. Plus Sai and Jeb still practise their Tantra each day. They are able to dive in the deepest state of bliss when they make out. Jeb won't even notice it's not Sai's hands on his 'wand' when the time comes. And then finally, finally Sai will give his virginity to his beloved - but oh so hesistant - Jeb.

Uh - oh. The door. Jeb is back ö.ö' Sai wanted to have finished before he returned. Now Jeb will think he kept all the fun for himself - again...

(I usually never post pics with the walls down - but Sai really tensed when Jeb entered ^^')

Sai took the face mask off. Time to face Jeb...

Sai: "I'll just get dressed and than I'll give you my very special thank you present for my gaming corner!" Jeb: "Uhm - ok..." Jeb's mood was damped since he overheard Sai in the bathroom last time. He feels like he isn't man enough for Sai when he has to pleasure himself... without him.

But when Sai stepped out of the bathroom, he took Jeb's breath away. Jeb whispered: "You look so hot." Sai: "But I shouldn't have put those damn plastic pants on over my still damp skin in a hurry!"

Jeb: "Gods are you hurt? Wait, I'll heal you." Sai: "No need to. Let's go to our bedroom. I'll just take them off again - slowly ;) " Jeb: "Are you sure you - you are ready to - to ...do it again?"

Sai: "I didn't go all the way in there. I'll just go there together with you." Jeb: "Vanië..."

Sai: "Let's take these clothes off."

And a few minutes later, Sai took Jeb to the realms of pleasure and bliss.

'… Loving you Isn't the right thing to do How can I ever change things That I feel?

… If I could Baby, I'd give you my world How can I When you won't take it from me?

… You can go your own way Go your own way You can call it Another lonely day You can go your own way Go your own way

Tell me why Everything turned around Packing up Shacking up is all you want to do'

Fleetwood Mac - Go your own Way

Outtakes

When they entered the game room and Vlad stood behind them - grinning creepily - and Sai was about to start hissing ö.Ö' Poor Jeb ^^'

Sai telling Jeb he is going to go nowhere until he's finished with him hahaha

From the Beginning 🔱 Underwater Love 🔱 Latest

Current Chapter 'Goats in Space': starts ▶️ here Last Chapter: 'Piglets in Space' from the beginning ▶️ here

📚 Previous Chapters: Chapters: 1-6 ~ 7-12 ~ 13-16 ~ 23-29

[dontronick]

This contains heavy spoilers for the finale of Arcane S2!!!

There are multiple signs that Viktor reciprocates Jayce’s feelings before the confession is ever spoken, and this is shown in the way that Viktor treats Jayce’s evolution differently from anyone else’s, including the main cast.

Jayce is the only person that Viktor interacts with and views to be on the same level as himself, even while working directly with the arcane/hexcore. He is the only person that Viktor does not touch from the front, leaning down to ascend the person, almost implying that they are below himself. Jayce is touched softly from behind, and his head is guided upwards to mimic his own ascension — they are equals in every way. The only other person that Viktor speaks to directly in that subspace is Sky, a lonely existence and one that could be solved if he would wish. Given that he is able to enter that subspace within anyone that he touches and “fixes”, as seen with his time within Vander.

The biggest thing that has been bubbling in my mind since watching the finale at 5 AM this morning was the fact that Viktor’s touch on Jayce’s head looks like a crown, like he not only ascended in being, but that he achieved the highest form of ascension and is the ultimate version of what Viktor was trying to achieve— that Viktor views Jayce as perfect, as royalty.

Viktor didn’t even need to aid in Jayce’s ascent; you quite literally see every other main character being forcibly converted from the previous commune members. He wanted to be the one to provide that for Jayce. Powder isn’t the only one who likes a spectacle.

I went a tad bit crazy collecting screenshots throughout season two to further my point. That the show furthers this idea in its visuals, which are seen below (obviously hidden because of spoilers, text is easier to avoid with a simple warning than images are).