#what if griffith was a girl

[ofliterarynature]

TBR TAKEDOWN: Week 14 (September 1)

TLDR: I have too many unread books, and I’m asking tumblr to help me downsize. Pick one or none, comment if you have opinions, and please reblog if you can! Book descriptions below the cut, see my pinned post for more info.

The Ladies of Mandrigyn by Barbara Hambly

The City of Mandrigyn was conquered, and its men enslaved in the foul mines of the evil Wizard King, Altiokis. Now the women of the city, led by Sheera Galernas, have come to hire the mercenary army of Captain Sun Wolf. But Sun Wolf was too wise to become involved in fighting against wizardry…

...Until he woke to find himself kidnapped and offered a grim choice by Sheera. He could train and lead the ladies of Mandrigyn against Altiokis - or he could die in lingering agony from the anzid they had given him and for which only they had the antidote.

There was more to the ladies than Sun Wolf could have guessed. There was also far more to the evil of Altiokis then anyone knew.

But above all, there was a great deal more to Sun Wolf and his destiny then he had ever dreamed.

Gideon Smith and the Mechanical Girl by David Barnett

Nineteenth century London is the center of a vast British Empire. Airships ply the skies and Queen Victoria presides over three-quarters of the known world--including the East Coast of America, following the failed revolution of 1775.

London might as well be a world away from Sandsend, a tiny village on the Yorkshire coast. Gideon Smith dreams of the adventure promised him by the lurid tales of Captain Lucian Trigger, the Hero of the Empire, told in Gideon's favorite penny dreadful. When Gideon's father is lost at sea in highly mysterious circumstances Gideon is convinced that supernatural forces are at work. Deciding only Captain Lucian Trigger himself can aid him, Gideon sets off for London. On the way he rescues the mysterious mechanical girl Maria from a tumbledown house of shadows and iniquities. Together they make for London, where Gideon finally meets Captain Trigger.

But Trigger is little more than an aging fraud, providing cover for the covert activities of his lover, Dr. John Reed, a privateer and sometime agent of the British Crown. Looking for heroes but finding only frauds and crooks, it falls to Gideon to step up to the plate and attempt to save the day...but can a humble fisherman really become the true Hero of the Empire?

The Crossing Places by Elly Griffiths

Forensic archeologist Dr. Ruth Galloway is in her late thirties. She lives happily alone with her two cats in a bleak, remote area near Norfolk, land that was sacred to its Iron Age inhabitants—not quite earth, not quite sea. But her routine days of digging up bones and other ancient objects are harshly upended when a child’s bones are found on a desolate beach. Detective Chief Inspector Nelson calls Galloway for help, believing they are the remains of Lucy Downey, a little girl who went missing a decade ago and whose abductor continues to taunt him with bizarre letters containing references to ritual sacrifice, Shakespeare, and the Bible. Then a second girl goes missing and Nelson receives a new letter—exactly like the ones about Lucy.

Is it the same killer? Or a copycat murderer, linked in some way to the site near Ruth’s remote home?

[ducktracy]

saw "75 influences in 75 seconds" on Twitter and decided to give a go at it! i didn't realize how much print cartooning/fine art/still, non moving images had a stranglehold on me until making this! I'm inspired by so much and so fleetingly it's hard to make a list... still fun to make!

[shitasspandabear]

can't stop thinking about the time my dad walked in on me watching berserk NOT the eclipse scene, but the scene where guts is homoerotically punching tf out of griffith when they first meet, and says something like "back in my day it was not acceptable for a man to beat up a woman" so then i have to tell him, no that's not actually a woman its just a Twink with luscious silver locks..... yes he has perfect lashes and angelic imagery its just a thing.... and his hairdo is ridiculously high maintenance looking especially in actual medieval times it's just a thing

[todayisafridaynight]

so magical that yakuza 1 and shadow the hedgehog came out the same year........ 2005 the best year for sega honestly.....

[scorchedhearth]

a lot of things could be fixed by making casca a butch. the rest of the issues could be fixed by making her a protagonist before a girl

[vital-information]

"[M]ost often the figure representing the impersonal logic of protocol is Andy’s deputy, Barney Fife. Played by the immensely talented Don Knotts, Barney is both the comedic relief and bureaucratic foil to Andy’s localism. Running gags are built upon Barney’s trigger-happy nervousness and open love of the Law, with all its binding rules and jargon. He often urges Andy to modernize, to embrace the latest crime-fighting methods and gadgets. Barney’s flaw — and what makes him hilarious — is that he tries too hard to be a serious police officer in a rural town untouched by hard crime. He quotes legal codes to Andy, who either doesn’t know or has forgotten them. Andy doesn’t need to remember the technical name for a minor offense. He understands that townspeople, not codes, are the governing factor, even if that logic sometimes backfires on him.

Watching this show as an older viewer, I came to realize that Andy and Barney symbolize two competing ways of life that struggled against one another in the 20th century and continue to do so today.

...

Though Andy exhibits strength and virtue, he is not hotheaded. Nor is he the brawny hero that busts in at the last minute with guns blazing to vanquish the villain, who almost pulls off the caper. It may take him until the last minute to carry out his plan, but he does not represent the kind of heroic machismo so prevalent in superhero films today. More often than not Andy fights with his mind, inasmuch as he fights at all. He is strong in a silent way, a stoic fortitude without the sturm und drang of Brando or the social Darwinism of late-career John Wayne. Barney, on the other hand, is loud and quick to flashes of emotion. His wiry frame and nervous energy make him a wreck of a deputy, and it’s hilarious to watch him and Andy at odds, however low the stakes. Barney is a ludicrous figure, a clown, blissfully unaware of his arrogance, insecure and egotistical, and desirous of the kind of rules designed to control situations without thought. He exemplifies the neoliberal manager, the one that assumed control in the late 20th century. And though this figure was initially lampooned in American media, it came to be accepted as the only one to rule over a complex world.

¤ When several American television networks dropped most of the country-themed programming in the early 1970s — a move referred to as the “rural purge” — the likelihood that another Andy Taylor or Mayberry might be seen on TV was slimmed. In an attempt to market to suburban and urban audiences, major television networks mostly forgot about aging and rural populations. Suddenly there were fewer shows reflecting their lives. The kneejerk reaction is to consider rural audiences and their shows hillbilly, retrograde, simple-minded, or even racist. But it would also be callous to ignore other audiences altogether just to have around-the-clock Westerns and episodes of Red Skelton. I began to wonder what my parents would have watched without reruns of The Andy Griffith Show. Could it be, like some have said, that people enjoy the series because it presents a whitewashed utopia, a conservative paradise before Soul Train, MTV, and BET? In her article “Remembering Mayberry in White and Black,” memory studies scholar Kathleen McElroy writes about African Americans like herself who identify with The Andy Griffith Show even though only one episode in the entire series features a black actor with a speaking part (“a Chopin-playing football coach in Season 7,” McElroy notes). She cites several black writers who watch the series because it reflects their own experiences living in the rural South and who were not alienated by the paucity of black cast members. But even though some African-American viewers like McElroy conjure these “extra-memories,” as she calls them, to “complement […] Mayberry’s narrative,” what about the white viewers who voted for Donald Trump because they believed him to be a white, wealthy savior who could return the country to the conservative 1950s — in other words, to a time before civil rights? Why should anyone have to fill in the gaps of a television series with extra-memories to enjoy it? A site of both memory and oblivion, The Andy Griffith Show can be pleasing to some and uncomfortable to others. It’s a show that some might enjoy because it presents a white utopia and one that others can identify with because of its themes of doing good, serving communities, and reducing one’s ego. And viewers like McElroy and the writers she cites in her essay manage this tension by conjuring extra-memories to account for the erasure. It is possible that some people see in Donald Trump’s nativist message a return to Mayberry. But those who may suppose that miss the entire point of the series and equally misunderstand the philosophy of the character Andy Taylor. Writing for The Awl, Shani O. Hilton mentions that Griffith was often called “white trash” as a kid. When he created his series, Griffith didn’t “take a crack at edgier storylines involving race or gender,” which other series of the time did and usually failed offensively. Instead, he crafted a show about life in a small, working-class town where a given day’s itinerary might include little more than napping and watching the evening’s program on television. Mayberry is obviously utopian and overwhelmingly white, but Sheriff Andy Taylor not only believes society can always be made better but also understands no social project grand or local could usher in some kind of everlasting peace. The best you could do in Mayberry is good enough, and doing good is a daily job."

Grafton Tanner, "Make America Mayberry Again" for the Los Angeles Review of Books

[fishgirl514]

bangs too long now i got the griffith special

[paint-it-dead]

idk what this is

Casca right before she marries Charlotte and takes over Falconia:

I AM CASCA BERSERK. I AM YOU DREAM GIRL'S DREAM GIRL. AND I AM GOING TO SERVE EXACTLY WHAT YOU ARE. *points at Griffith* CUNT!!!!

[femvaylin]

Chainsaw Man part 1 is literally just Berserk's Golden Age but straight

[loulovingho]

prompt: the rest of the 118 see tommy and buck be affectionate together for the first time. not just the aftermath, like with the wedding kiss, but they actually witness it. cuteness overload!

It took a few weeks for everything to calm down enough for everyone to get together.

The 118 was adjusting to working under Captain Gerrard.

Bobby and Athena were adjusting to moving into an apartment half the size of their house.

Hen and Karen were adjusting to visits with Mara every chance they could get.

Chimney and Maddie were adjusting to having two young girls running around the house.

Eddie was adjusting to being alone.

And Buck was less adjusting and more enjoying his new romance with Tommy.

He didn't mention Tommy much at work. He got sick of Gerrard's one-off comments pretty quickly. Usually, he would have been egging him on every chance he got, but it turns out he was more protective of Tommy than he originally realized, and anytime his name came out of Gerrard's mouth it made him want to punch the man.

It was easier to not bring him up.

When Bobby and Athena had finally settled into their new place, which very conveniently had a grilling and picnic area on the roof, they invited everyone over.

Bobby made sure to include Tommy in his invitation. His and Buck's relationship may have been new, but he was an old friend to the majority of the 118, and a new friend to those he hadn't known all that long.

He did not include the fact that Athena was insistent on seeing their dynamic because, “One of them is gonna give the other a run for their money and I can't figure out which one's which yet.”

In fact, the majority of the group was interested in seeing Tommy and Buck together. Everyone except Eddie, who accidentally witnessed far too much of their dynamic a couple weeks ago when he decided to head into Buck's place without knocking first.

It would be the last time he ever made that mistake.

The others couldn't help their curiosity. It was the first time Buck had ever seemed so settled in a relationship. The first time he wasn't asking for near-constant advice. The first time he wasn't endlessly concerned he was doing something wrong or about to screw things up.

Something was different. Something had shifted. They wanted to know what it was.

And while Hen and Chimney had known Tommy for a long time, they hadn't exactly stayed in touch after he left. Up until the cruise rescue, Hen hadn't really spoken to him at all, and Chimney would send him a text or two each year just to ask how he was keeping up. The Tommy they knew was closeted, scared, defensive under Gerrard's leadership, cocky, and seemingly always searching for something... more.

“I'm kinda bummed,” Buck said as they headed up to the roof.

“What?” Tommy glanced at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because everyone already knows you,” he explained. “I can't introduce you as my boyfriend.”

Tommy smiled, eyes crinkling up in the cute way Buck loved. He switched the wine bottle he was holding to his other hand took Buck's hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You can still do that, if you want. I mean, they might look at you funny, but who cares, right?”

Buck squeezed his hand back. After a moment, he gasped, eyes widening as he did a little jump. “I can introduce you to all the kids!” he exclaimed.

Tommy couldn't help but laugh at Buck's excitement. “That sounds perfect, Evan.”

*****

Bobby wasn't sure how they'd gotten to this point only five minutes into Buck arriving, but here they were. Before Tommy had even handed off the wine, Buck was going into a story on Gerrard mentioning the 1933 Griffith Park Fire, but he had been wrong about some information.

“And I was trying to tell him how twenty-nine people died, not twenty-seven, but he was insistent that I was wrong. I knew I wasn't. I had just spent a couple hours the other night reading over articles about it. When was it, Tommy?” he asked, turning to his boyfriend, “Two nights ago?”

“Uh, three. Three nights ago.”

“Right, three nights ago. See, two people died later at the hospital, so they weren't included in the initial death toll. So, obviously, I had to get online and show him...”

As Buck continued, Bobby nodded along, trying to take in at least some of what he was saying. Sometimes, when Buck got on tangents like these, it was hard to keep up.

As the discussion got more heated, Bobby noticed Tommy's hand drifted to Buck's back, resting at the base. Buck continued without missing a beat, but his voice calmed and his posture relaxed.

“Did he ever admit defeat?” Tommy asked. To Bobby's surprise, Tommy had kept his eyes on Buck the entire time. He seemed genuinely interested in every word that was coming out of Buck's mouth.

Buck shook his head. “No, he'd never do that. But he was quiet for the rest of the day, so I took it as a win.”

“Oh, that's definitely a win,” Tommy agreed.

Not that he ever doubted, but it was then that Bobby knew his initial analysis was correct. Tommy was good people, and he was good for Buck.

*****

Hen's eyes drifted over the rooftop, settling between Tommy and Buck. She had noticed earlier how they always seemed to gravitate toward each other. Now was no different. Even though they were on opposite sides of the roof, Buck talking to Maddie, and Tommy having a very expressive conversation with Jee, they would steal glances at each other. A smile here, a wink there. Buck even gave Tommy a little wave, like they hadn't been sitting side by side only five minutes ago.

“I don't think it's just the honeymoon phase for those two,” Athena said, scooting a chair closer to Hen before sitting down.

Hen rolled her eyes affectionately at yet another tiny wave from Buck before turning to Athena. “I think I agree. I've never seen Buck so smitten before, and I don't use that word often.”

“Mhm,” Athena hummed with a nod. “Tommy seems just as smitten as Buck. I don't ever remember him looking so peaceful before. I haven't worked with him much since he transferred to Harbor, but I remember what he was like before.”

Hen huffed out a laugh. “Arrogant?”

“And stiff.”

“Yeah. He changed a lot, especially after Gerrard left, but this is different.”

They kept watching as Jee got distracted by Mara and they ran off to play. Tommy walked over to Buck, who held out his hand for Tommy to take before Tommy was even close.

As soon as he could, Tommy took his hand and sat down beside him on the little couch. Buck leaned in close, whispering something in his ear, then they laughed deep and loud.

“If I watch anymore of this I'm gonna throw up,” Hen said, standing up. “I'm gonna go rescue Karen from whatever game Denny is showing her on his phone.”

Athena laughed, squeezed Hen's hand as she went by, but kept her attention on the boys.

She couldn't seem to look away.

*****

Maddie tapped Chimney's thigh, nodding toward where Buck and Tommy were standing in a corner of the rooftop, watching the sunset. They had their arms wrapped around one another, occasionally stealing a chaste kiss. “They look so happy,” she said, a warm smile on her face.

“Yeah, they do,” Chimney agreed. “I'm happy for both of them. They're good together.”

“Yeah, they are. Did you know Buck hasn't even been to his loft in a week? When he's not working he's at Tommy's place.”

“And they're not sick of each other yet?” Chimney laughed. “Oh, they're in deep.”

Before Maddie could respond, Eddie was coming up to them, kneeling down beside Chimney. “We gotta hide the clipboards.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm serious, man, we're gonna be in deep trouble if we don't.”

Maddie leaned forward. “Why do you need to hide the clipboards, Eddie?”

Eddie motioned to Buck and Tommy. Tommy had an arm around Buck's shoulder now, both of Buck's still wrapped around Tommy's waist. He had his head resting against Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy pressed a kissed to the top of his head. “Have you seen the two of them? I'm not even gonna go into what I witnessed a couple weeks ago-”

“Thank God.”

“-but they've got it bad for each other. I give it six months before they're engaged. You know what happens after that?”

Chimney thought for a second, sucking in a breath when the realization hit him. “Wedding planning.”

“Wedding planning,” Eddie repeated.

Maddie shook her head. “You guys are crazy.”

“What? You don't think they'll be ready to walk down the aisle in six months time?” Chimney asked.

“Oh, no, they definitely will. You're just crazy if you think not being able to find a clipboard will stop him. I don't know if you guys know this, but Notes app Buck is far worse than clipboard Buck.”

[skzstannie]

"Did you know?"

SKZ-> ot8 x 9th member! reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort wc: ~4,500 cw: slight violence, swearing, reader has to go to the hospital

summary: some online rumors cause turmoil within the group, and it seems the members’ concerns were certainly not without reason

A/N: Here's another angsty 9th member fic for you guys, hope you enjoy! My requests are still open, so if you have any ideas, feel free to send them in!

Likes/reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!

Part 2 | Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

Today was the first date of your North American tour, landing you guys in the beautiful city of Los Angeles, California. Your managers allowed you the morning to explore the city, given you had constant security. They made you specifically promise to abide by these rules, as you had a habit of sneaking off to see fans on your own. What can you say? Security could be annoying, and your fans were always the sweetest.

This little habit of yours not only made management anxious, but also your members. They knew you could be innocent and credulous when it came to other people, always wanting to believe there was good in everyone. While this may be true, people's best intentions sometimes went out the window when confronted with their favorite Kpop idols.

"Ok, first the art museum for Hyunjin, then Griffith Park, and then the nice breakfast cafe down the street from the venue. Anything else?" Chan reads off your planned itinerary, glancing upwards at you guys.

"Yea, I said I wanted to go to the Santa Monica Pier. They have the cutest attractions there," you say, repeating yourself for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You were the only one wanting to go, all the other members not wanting to risk getting sick on fair food and carnival rides before the concert.

"Yes, and I already acknowledged the fact that we will not be going there today. And we, includes you, meaning you will also not be sneaking off to go by yourself," Chan pointedly looks to you, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"What makes you think I'd ever do that?" you give him a cheeky smile, tilting your head ever so slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. You know exactly why I'd think that."

You drop your innocent act, giving him a bored look in return.

Chan gets notified that the vans have arrived, so you all pack up your things and head to the hotel elevator. The boys roughhouse in the hallway, Seungmin almost tackling Jeongin to the ground. This is quickly stopped by Minho, reminding them they can't get hurt before the concert tonight. They roll their eyes at him but oblige.

Leaving the hotel, you all jump in the cars, embarking on the short drive to the art museum. Your van consists of Seungmin and Felix sitting in the middle set of seats, while you're squished in the back between Chan and Minho. The air is weirdly tense and quiet, everyone seemingly too occupied with their phones. Besides Chan describing the itinerary this morning, everyone has been quiet all day.

You feel Chan's watchful gaze slide to your screen, and you pull away, leaning towards Minho. "Do you mind?" you sass.

"I do actually. What are you looking at on there, any cute boys?"

"Give me a break, we have a dating ban," you scoff, turning your phone back off and sliding it into your crossbody bag.

You continue to sit in silence until you arrive, not wanting to deal with Chan's wandering eyes on your Instagram feed.

Finally arriving at the art museum, everyone piles out of the vans. Fans line the sidewalk, and a grin spreads across your face. You step out of line quickly, wanting to go over to a particularly young fan. She looks around 8 or 9, and she has a poster of you in hand with a black Sharpie. What's the harm in giving this young girl a quick signature?

Within your first few steps, your arm is aggressively pulled backwards, and you stumble into Minho. He gives you a stern look, and you know, especially with this many people around, not to question him. You fall back in line, looking back to give the young girl a sympathetic smile as you're guided the rest of the way into the museum.

You guys walk through the entrance of the museum, officially out of sight from all the fans. Minho gives you another pointed look, finally releasing your arm from his grasp. "We told you, no funny business today. Tonight's important, and we need you in one piece for it."

Your eyes widen at his tone of voice, not appreciating the seriousness behind it. You know you tend to break some rules here and there, but it's always light-hearted. You'd never intentionally put yourself or anyone else in danger.

You guys explore the museum exhibits in peace, security doing an excellent job of keeping the fans outside. You, not having much of an interest in art, spend most of your time watching Hyunjin and the way he admires the artwork. He really is an artist at heart, and you love the way he can appreciate each individual piece.

While staring at Hyunjin, who's admiring an intensely beautiful painting of a riverbed with flowers, you suddenly feel eyes on you. You quickly spin around to be met with the stares of Felix, Jisung, and Jeongin. They quickly look away, busying themselves looking at the statues next to them.

You give them a squinted look, walking over to them. "What is wrong with you guys today? Why is everyone acting so funny?" you confront them, furrowing your brows.

Jisung stumbles over his words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Felix jumps in, giving Jisung a strange look, "We were just talking about how beautiful you look today." He comes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his side.

You don't stay there long, removing his arm from around you and walking away. "Weird," you mutter to yourself.

You guys finish up in the museum shortly after. Piling back into the cars, you're once again stuck between Minho and Chan. This time, however, Chan keeps constant conversation with you. He rambles on about the concert that night, what he had for dinner last night, practically anything to keep his mouth moving. While this is still strange behavior, you prefer this to radio silence.

Arriving at Griffith Park, you guys make your way up the hill terrain. All the guys want to take pictures, planning to post them to Instagram later that week. You think the perfect spot for pictures would be the Hollywood sign, so you start to make your way towards it.

You don't think to alert anyone, as it's within eyesight, and you prefer to take your own pictures, anyway. You came prepared, bringing your tripod in your backpack.

Before you make it very far, only walking about 25 feet away from the group, you hear your name being yelled. You turn back around, seeing an angry Minho storming towards you.

"What'd we say about going off on your own? Why are you being so difficult today?" he asks, his voice rising with every word he spits at you.

You don't know what's gotten everyone's panties in a bunch today, but you've just about had enough. The atmosphere has been tense all day, and you're officially sick of it.

"Why is everyone being so tense today? Gosh, I'm only going up to the sign!" You throw your arm behind, motioning to the spot only about 50 feet away from where you and Minho stand.

"No, you will not be going up there, especially not by yourself. Stay with the rest of the group and stop being stubborn!" Minho's overly-critical eyes stare you down. He steps toward you, grabbing you by the elbow for the second time that day.

You wretch yourself away from him. "I've had enough with being man-handled today. I'm done! I'm going to wait in the van. Have fun without me!" you yell at him, stalking off towards the parking lot.

You see everyone had stopped what they were doing upon hearing the loud yells, and they're all watching you as you hurriedly make your way back to the vans. Your face flushes, embarrassment taking over your features.

You pull on the door to the van, realizing it's locked. You stomp your foot and whip around, finding everyone still staring at you with varying expressions. "Someone please unlock this door before I have a mental breakdown," you beg, feeling the beginnings of an anxiety attack taking over your body.

The driver, just feet away sitting on a bench, searches for the keys in his jacket, finally unlocking the door for you. You climb in, slamming the door behind you.

You stumble over the front row of seats, laying down in the back away from the concerned gazes of your members and the rest of the staff. Your chest feels constricted, the air in your lungs feeling limited in supply. Tears stream down your face at the unwanted advances of an anxiety attack.

The fight with Minho paired with the building tension all day, along with the nerves for tonight's concert mixed into a deadly concoction in your brain, all too much for you to handle.

You're not left alone with your thoughts for long, the door to the van opening only minutes later. Hyunjin crawls in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey, hey, shhh. It's ok, everything will be ok," he coos, rubbing your back. He's squeezed himself down in between the middle row of seats, his elbows resting on the armrests beside him.

"I'm sick of today," tears slide down you cheeks, your voice audibly shaking. "Everyone is being so distant and mean. What'd I do?"

"No honey, you didn't do anything. Everyone's just a little stressed for tonight. There's been some stuff circulating around online putting everyone on edge, but it'll all be fine," he reassures you, trying to roll you onto your other side so he can see your face. Your mind is too pre-occupied to register his words, letting them travel in one ear and out the other.

You allow him to turn you around, uncomfortably shifting in the small space. Your glossy eyes meet his, and he's quick to wrap you up into a tight hug, your own arms squished against his chest.

"Everyone's finishing up out there, then we're going to head to the venue a little earlier than planned. Does that sound ok?" he asks, affectionately running his fingers through your hair.

"Yea," you sniffle, pressing your face firmly into his shoulder. "I don't want to sit by Minho. Please don't make me," you cry harder at the thought.

"Alright, alright, shhh. You're only working yourself up more. You know we have to stay in our assigned vehicles, but I'm sure Seungmin and Felix will switch spots with him and Chan."

After a few more minutes of consoling from Hyunjin, everyone else has finished their photoshoots. Hyunjin leaves, but not before giving you another firm squeeze. Seungmin and Felix pile into the van first, both of them coming to sit beside you. You telepathically thank Hyunjin for asking them in passing.

Felix rests a comforting hand on your knee throughout the ride to the venue. Chan and Minho are silent, completely engrossed in their phones once again.

Once at the venue, you stay far from Minho, not wanting to deal with his negativity. You notice the security is amped up a bit compared to last tour, guards standing at every door leading to your dressing rooms. You figure it's because your band has gotten so much bigger, the Stay Family always growing exponentially.

In your dressing room, Felix occupies the chair by the mirror, your stylists brushing shades of brown and pink across his eyelids. Changbin stands nearby, the hair stylist just finishing up with a couple extra spurts of hairspray. You lay on the couch while you wait, playing Among Us with Jeongin and Hyunjin who reside in the other dressing room.

Changbin and Felix offered to go with you to your dressing room, and you gladly accepted their offer. You explained to them you didn't necessarily want to be alone; you just didn't want to be by Minho.

The stylists start to work on you once they're done with the boys. They finish your hair and makeup just in time for soundcheck, applying some last minute powder to your nose before sending you off to the stage.

Rehearsals go by smoothly. You and Minho are able to put your issues behind you for now. Your fans are so important to you, and the last thing you want to do is ruin their night because of some petty argument.

Management sends you off to the dressing rooms once again, satisfied with the quality of the soundcheck. You follow your members off stage before departing down a separate hallway in search of the bathroom.

You walk for another few seconds, taking a few random turns before your met with the door to the ladies' restroom. You do your business and take your time getting back to the dressing room as you guys don't go on for another hour. The venue your playing is beautiful, so you take a slight detour, admiring all the nice architecture.

You're startled from your peaceful thoughts once again by a furious Minho. "I cannot believe you'd go off on your own again. After all we've told you today, how could you possibly think that's ok?" he throws his hands up in disbelief, his tone snarky.

"I had to use the restroom! You guys have never had a problem with me walking around the venues by myself, why now? You have been up my ass all day. Leave me the hell alone for awhile." You push him out of the way, ramming his shoulder with your own in the tight hallway.

"Do you think this is fun for me, huh? Yelling at you all day long? Did you ever stop to think for one second that there may be something bigger going on here?" His voice sounds exhausted, leaving you slightly concerned because you still have hours of performing to do. However, your anger gets the best of you, and your concern gets pushed deep below the surface.

"Well, I'm sorry that I can't read your damn mind. If there's something bigger going on, then why hasn't anyone told me? I'm a big girl, not some toddler. I am a part of this group the same as everyone else, so why are things being kept from me?"

Minho starts to speak, but you immediately cut him off, not wanting to hear the lame excuses you're sure he's come up with. "You know what, I don't even wanna hear it. My mental health has went to shit today because of you, and if I wanna be able to perform in 30 minutes, I need to be away from you. We can talk about this later," you finish, rushing off to your dressing room, leaving Minho standing alone in the hallway.

Everyone seems to have deemed your dressing room the hangout spot until the concert officially begins, as all the other boys have gathered around, making themselves comfortable amongst the laid out furniture in the room.

You all make conversation, laughing at Changbin's cringey jokes; you're happy for the distraction, allowing your mind to wander from the fight you had with Minho.

10 minutes before you go on, management comes to fetch you to get ready, providing you all with in-ears and microphones.

Your pre-performance jitters have made themselves known, but you've been doing this long enough that you can turn that nervous energy into excitement.

5 minutes before you go on, you and the boys gather in a circle. Chan leads, knowing exactly how to get everyone hype before going on.

You're all standing now just outside of view from the fans on the side of the stage, waiting for your cue from management. Once they give it, you all make your way out onto the stage, relishing in the sounds of the screaming Stay that form the crowd.

All is going smoothly as you finish your center part during the bridge of Lalala, and you make your way to the side of the stage, waiting for the part in the song where you re-enter the choreo. With all your attenton focused on the performance, you fail to notice the commotion coming from the crowd just a few feet from you.

Your attention is pulled away from the performance when you're tackled from behind. You scream in agony and fear, having landed painfully on your wrist. If the snap you felt is anything to go by, it's definitely broken. However, this isn't your main concern at the moment. You open your eyes, and they’re immediately drawn to the shiny pocket knife the man has in his hand. He's quick to slash a small cut into your forearm before he is aggressively pushed off of you. Your attacker is taken down by security; they immediately throw a pair of handcuffs on him, taking him off stage.

The crowd has broke out into panicked cries, all of Stay wondering what happened and if you're ok.

Your members are quick to rush over to you, abandoning the remainder of the Lalala choreo. While it's felt like an eternity since you were tackled, it really only took security a few seconds to get the situation under control, and only a few more seconds for your members to surround you.

"What hurts?" Chan panics, crouching down beside you.

"My wrist," you sob, totally overwhelmed from all the commotion. The crowd is still roaring and your wrist throbbing like crazy. The cut on your arm is no comparison to the pain radiating from your wrist.

"Alright, let's move her off stage," a paramedic pushes through the barricade your members have formed around you and helps you stand to your feet. You quickly move off stage, wanting to get out of the crowd's view as soon as possible.

Once off to the side, one paramedic inspects your wrist, gently grasping your forearm to hold you steady, while another wraps the cut on your other arm.

"It definitely looks broken. We should get you to the hospital to get it X-rayed and possibly casted," he explains.

Minho steps up next to you, your earlier arguments swept from your mind. "I'll go with her. You guys finish up here. Probably should cut the setlist short anyway; we're already behind schedule."

You follow behind the paramedics, them leading you outside to the ambulance. Minho walks beside you, providing you familiarity in this uncomfortable situation.

The ride to the hospital is silent except for the beeping of the machines the paramedics have you connected to. Minho holds your unbroken hand the whole ride, your disagreements on the backburner for the moment.

The more time that passes, the sorer your body becomes. Your arms feel heavy, and your back feels like it was beaten with a hammer. You realize you've probably been in shock this whole time, and the attacker did more damage than you originally thought.

You finally find yourself in a hospital room, Minho pulling the chair up beside you.

"Well," the doctor says, pulling your X-ray up onto the screen, "This cut doesn't require stitches, just keep it bandaged and medicated. We'll give you a Tetanus shot for it, though, since it was done with a knife. As for your wrist, it's definitely broken. The good news, though, is that it doesn't look like it will require surgery. What color cast do you want?"

You're expression appears dazed to Minho and the doctor, your mind completely preoccupied. "Black," you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear you.

The doctor nods his head, disappearing from the room to retrieve the supplies to apply your cast and the shot.

You look to Minho, finally feeling like you have processed everything that's happened. "What the hell happened? How did that guy get past security, and with a knife especially?"

"Honestly, we're not sure. Management and security are reviewing the camera footage now. We were trying to be cautious; there was so much extra security tonight. It should've been impossible for anyone to get to you."

You process his words, a realization forming in your mind. "Did you guys know something about this beforehand?" Your eyebrows furrow. If they knew something, they for sure would have told you, too, right? "Is this what you were talking about in the hallway before the concert?"

"Y/N," he sighs, giving you a look full of remorse.

"No. I don't want any bullshit," you snap, "Did you or did you not know something was wrong before the concert? Is that why you have been giving me a hard time all day?" You start to put the puzzle pieces together, the day replaying in your head.

The overprotectiveness, the extra security, them not wanting you to go on your phone- they knew.

Minho looks to the ground, his shoulders slumping. "Look, we find out about some rumors going around online this morning, but-"

"Get out," you say, your voice tense.

His head snaps up, his remorseful eyes meeting your fiery ones. "What?"

"I said, Get. Out." Your unbroken hand aggressively points to the door.

"I'm not leaving you here alone. Let's just talk about this-"

"You had all day to talk to me about this, but now that I'm injured and traumatized you want to talk about it?" Your incredibly angry, and your words are filled with venom. "Get out, get out, get out!"

"Do you really think it's the best idea to be by yourself right now?" His eyes are filled with sorrow, his hands in dire need to reach out to you.

"If you don't leave right now, I will scream."

His watchful gaze rests on you for a couple seconds, before he finally gives in, rising to his feet. He walks toward the door. "We'll send a car to come get you when you're ready. There's security out here waiting, and your manager is out in the hall. I'll see you when you get back to the hotel."

He disappears out the door, once again leaving you alone with your thoughts. How dare they not tell you? There are threats going around online about you, and you're the last one they tell? In what world does that make any sense?

The doctor comes back in the room just a few minutes later. He's quick with putting your cast on, and he sends you on your way, requesting you stop by the front desk to sign a few documents before you go.

You follow him out the door, meeting up with your manager and security right outside the room.

After signing the paperwork, your manager leads you outside to the car that has been called for you.

Fans must've found out which hotel they took to you, and the outside of the hotel is flooded with Stay. Normally, you'd be ecstatic to see so many of them. However, you're exhausted and hurt, so you bring your hood over your head and stare at the ground, thankful for the security that surrounds you.

You climb in the back of the car, your manager following suit. "Why was I not informed about the threats online?" you question, your eyebrows furrowing in anger.

"The concert was going to go on no matter what, so we figured it'd be easier to get you out there if you didn't know about them."

Your jaw drops at her statement. "That is not fair, how can you just assume that? I had a right to know about this," you argue.

"This isn't really up for discussion. It's the way we chose to handle it, and that's that."

You're in disbelief at her careless attitude. "How did the guys find out about it then?"

"Nosy little shits," she laughs, but you're not sure how she's finding any humor in this situation. "They saw them online themselves. We practically had to threaten their contracts to get them not to tell you."

Your heart constricts at this new information. Emotions flood your system, and you're suddenly feeling incredibly guilty for your interaction with Minho in the hospital room. All the arguments between the two of you flood your mind, and remorse rushes your body.

They have just been trying to keep you safe all day. Trying to keep you off your phone, not letting you wander by yourself, the whispers behind your back. It all makes sense now. And you realize you've been a royal bitch all day to the wrong people.

You turn to look out the window for the remainder of the drive, knowing it's useless to argue with your manager. What she says goes. This doesn't mean you're not angry with her and the rest of management, though. This conversation needs to be had in a professional setting, not in the backseat of a car when you're by yourself.

Once you arrive at the hotel, your quick to jump out of the car, wanting to be away from your careless manager. However, you stand directly outside the door, patiently waiting for security to escort you to your room.

They walk you all the way up to your shared room with Seungmin, and you're not surprised to find all of them waiting for you when you open the door.

They're conversations halt, all eyes snapping to you. You walk in and set your bag down on the bed. Your eyes well up with tears for what feels like the hundredth time that day. "I'm so sorry," you cry, afraid to meet their concerned gazes. "Today has just been so overwhelming, and my manager sucks, and my back hurts, and I have been so rude to you guys all day-," your words are cut short by another sob wracking through your sore body. You sniffle some more, bringing your sleeve up to wipe at your face. "Min, I'm so sorry for kicking you out. I should've just listened to what you had to say. I'm such a horrible person."

All the guys are quick to stand, not wanting you to rile yourself up anymore. Hyunjin comes over to you first, gently guiding you to sit on the bed. Everyone else follows, all of you now gathered on the queen sized bed. "Listen," Minho starts, comforting you, "Absolutely none of this is your fault, you hear?" He pulls you down next to him, his arm coming up around your shoulders. "Today has been an awful day, and you don't need to work yourself up about how you treated us."

"Yea, but-"

"No buts, you need to rest. We are not mad at you."

"Not one bit. We love you so much, and we're so sorry you had to go through that. Are you ok? How's your wrist?" Chan asks from the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your ankle.

"It hurts, but the doctor gave me some painkillers to take for the next few days. My cut didn't need stitches, but I have to keep it bandaged until it heals," you explain, your words coming out steadier than before.

Your cries eventually calm down, leaving you sniffling every now and again. Felix notices you've calmed down, and he nudges your leg, opening his arms for you. You crawl into them, relaxing into his calm and comforting embrace. The rest of them are quick to follow, creating one big group hug.

You know this situation is certainly not over. I'm sure you guys will press charges, and you'll probably have to release a statement of some kind. It seems that management and you guys have come to a silent agreement to deal with everything in the morning, and you couldn’t be more grateful for it.

~ ~ ~

Part 2

[softspiderling]

✦ . * ocean blue eyes pt. IV | r.c

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

author’s note: ive been working overtime on the plot so just be aware that i am cooking. Also this part is very text heavy! Tagging @zyafics bc i don’t wanna be yelled at again and @ghostofwriting bc <3 Hope you enjoyyy

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

liked by sarahcam, gracieabrams, rafe and 1.924.812 others

youruser new york i have a surprise coming for you soon

view all 13.570 comments

ynbrazil I guess you're in New York today

➞ ynswift I don't wanna need you this way

ynalways 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

ynsboyfriend WHY NEW YORK AND NOT DETROIT

➞ samira_johnson … I think you know why

ynsbaby New York how does it feel to be mother’s favorite

➞ sunburninmiami *everyone’s favorite

↳ ynsbaby you’re so right😔

sarahcam 🤭🤭🤭

➞ youruser 🤫

empirestatebldg on the edge of the seat

allhailyn booking my tickets as we speak

ynylnsbaby PLS no more, I have FOMO😔

ynswift HUH?

whationlylistentoyn YN PLS WAIT I HAVENT BEEN PAID YET😭

➞ ynonly REAL😭😭

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Your phone:

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Sarah’s phone:

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liked by sarahcam, popeheywardphotography, youruser and 982.083 others

loewe Kildare’s own Rafe Cameron and Cleo Griffith for LOEWE’s Summer collection 2024 campaign

Photography Pope Heyward

Creative Direction Carla Limbrey

Creative Partner Ollie Walters

Styling Scarlett Peters

Hair Lana Grubbs

Make up Kiara Carerra

view all 5.721 comments

kiecarerra absolutely breathtaking

➞ kiecarerra and Rafe is there too, ig

➞ cleogriffith 💘

suckerforrafe It’s Rafe’s world and we’re just living in it

popeheywardphotography my baby did that

➞ cleogriffith YOU!!❤️

rafeonmymind this is so COOL

cleogriffith 🖤

sarahcam ATE

rafefan OMG

allaboutrafe I would use those strings on his pants to *** ****** ** *** ***

➞ jjsandrafes girl….

youruser 🤩

❤️liked by cleogriffith and rafe

rafesgf Kiara Carerra as in the Kiara who was at Rafe’s bday party?

➞ raferaferafe not you again…

eloiseeee Pope doing the photos for Cleo’s shoot is goals😭

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Cleo’s phone:

Rafe’s phone:

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liked by rafe, sarahcam, empirestatebldg and 2.941.031 others

youruser so excited to announce that I’ll be playing a show at Times Square on the 7th of June! This is such an iconic location and I can’t wait to celebrate 1 billion streams with you 🩷 get tickets through the link in bio and story, & hopefully I’ll see you thereee🫶🏼

view all 12.921 comments

empirestatebldg locked and loaded🫡

allaboutyn kfkajaoasoaolgksoflggwpap

ynfancam God (YN) only gives his strongest soldiers (me) the hardest battles (not being in NY when she’s doing a show)

sarahcam taking over NY🗣️

➞ youruser🫡

ynylnfan Nobody talk to me😔

jimmyfallon Wait so you’re in the neighborhood? What if you pop in for a chat?🙂‍↕️

➞ youruser Let me check my schedule Jimmy🤭

kiecarerra AHHHH IM SO EXCITED!!!!

➞ youruser can’t wait to finally meet youuu🤍

whationlylistentoyn sobbing

sunburninmiami OMFG I GOT TICKETS!!!1!1!!

➞ ynnnnn4lyfe HOW😭 the tickets were sold out in MINUTES

➞ ynylnsbaby So happy for you😭

cleogriffith queen is taking over New York👑

➞ youruser stoppppp😭😭😭

ynsgf this is so sick and twisted of you😭

➞ ynsunshine screaming crying throwing up😔

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: tell me what you think 🙂‍↕️

[barrenwomb]

mutual 1: what if their periods synced [picture of griffith and guts from berserk]

mutual 2: just had the most insane sex of my life. i'm so lonely & no one loves me

mutual 3: they should have fucked tbh [about blood siblings]

mutual 4: yeah i'm aware i have commitment issues but like, no one ever threatened to kill themselves so i wouldn't leave them. i mean is it even worth it. like

mutual 5: i need to be put on adderall sooo bad. i ghosted my psych btw

mutual 6: i'm having a mid life crisis at 23 uuuugh kms fr. attended my first class in months and the professor called me a good girl. woof 🐶

mutual 7: this omega just had an abortion omg...anyways being a fujoshi actually makes u a feminist because men deserve to be reduced to sexual objects as well

mutual 8: i don't believe in god but if god existed i'd be his little whore

mutual 9: men need to be walked around like dogs

mutual 10: i'm fundamentally unlovable

mutual 11: need someone to get a matching succubus womb tattoo with

mutual 12: i'm so horny i deserve to be put down . i wish someone groomed me

mutual 13: does anyone know if sniffing ibuprofen is bad for your health

mutual 14: got my birth control refilled. anyone need some estradiol? hmu

mutual 15: rip amico mio. e mo si mangia

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!queen!reader, sex on command, degradation, Griffith is lowkey misogynistic, titty fucking, spit kink, cum marking, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day two [ griffith + tit job ]

“I can be the most perfect gentleman that a lady could require, but I have an sneaking inkling that Her Majesty wants a scoundrel, instead. A dirty mercenary, a ruthless animal, to fuck her the way her king never could.”

you should’ve had him apprehended the moment he murmured those words, close enough to your ear to kiss the shell of it. you should’ve seen him in shackles, whipped and tortured, for daring to speak in such a way to the Queen of Midland, but you didn’t. you stared, straight ahead, and bit your tongue to keep from expelling a breathless moan. you allowed him to leave your side after that, melting into the crowded ballroom, mingling with the other nobles. his eyes lingered on you only for a moment, before they drift away, to keep from being overly suspicious. you had merely stood there, in shock, as you process his willingness to approach you in front of the Courts and your husband, and whisper something so heinous.

something so true.

it had been at your own behest, after all, that the young mercenary would become your plaything whilst fighting for your country, but it had been an arrangement brought to him in secrecy by your ladies in waiting, and he was meant to act discreetly. you glanced around, and realize that no one had been any the wiser. not even your husband, whose sharp eyes seemed to always watch you with disdain, had noticed Griffith whisper to you.

when you look back at him, he’s no longer focused on you, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face that you knew had to be for you, and not the generals he was conversing with. he must’ve caught your flustered seeking from his peripheral vision, and it must’ve amused him to no end.

damn him.

you managed to sit through the majority of the festivities, pretending to be enthralled by your husband’s banter with his retainers, but every so often, you would carve a line of sight directly to Griffith. you would stare at him, admiring each flawless detail from the plumpness of his lips to the long, heavy lashes that fan the apples of his porcelain cheeks, to the silvery curtainous tresses that were so carefully secured in a low ponytail to cascade down his back. he was so beautiful, and you began to fantasize about what his silken locks would feel like if you were to grip fistfuls of them, how his velvety pout will feel as he presses it flush to your sex, the way your back would arch if he pushed his tongue inside your hole, aching and clenching for him…

when you started to shift in your seat, rubbing your thighs together, you knew you had to make an escape. you couldn’t go another moment without Griffith in your bed, and so you promptly excused yourself, and several of your servant girls followed you up to your bed chamber.

Griffith’s sapphire gaze was keen enough to notice you leave, and he waited several more minutes, inching towards the exit until he could slip away, completely undetected.

Griffith’s let in to your bedroom before he can knock, and the ladies are swift to leave the two of you alone before he can close the door behind him. “Have you considered my counter offer, Your Majesty?” he asks with a soft tinge of amusement in his voice. he pushes the heavy, wooden lock in place against the door, his glacieresque gems focused only on the way you approached him, staring up at him with sparkling awe in your eyes. “Would you still prefer to have me as you wish, or would you find more pleasure in allowing me the honor to use your body?”

“I don’t want the obedient gentleman,” you blurt out, grasping the thick lapels of his coat, to pull yourself closer to him. “I want the scoundrel. The beast.”

“Is that so…?” Griffith grabs your shoulders, halting you in place as you speak, the ghost of a smirk tickling his lips. “Then the beast is what you shall have.” it’s a whisper, heavy with desire as both of his hands glide down to envelope the shape of your breasts through your gown. the fabric is thick, but as both fists reach up for the neckline, your breath catches in your throat. a swift yank, and silk screams as he tears at the neckline, stretching and ripping until your breasts jiggle free. your nipples harden almost instantly as they’re exposed to the cool atmosphere, and your back arches— the force and carelessness he exhibits in order to expose your chest pulling you off balance. he swoons at the sight, cradling your breasts with both hands. your nipples slide along the webbing between his thumb and forefinger, before he experiments with pinching the hardened buds. you let out a soft whimper.

Griffith’s hands are almost unnervingly soft for a mercenary general, and they’re warm as he kneads your breasts. your head tilts back and you expel a long, heavy breath as he tilts his head to watch your countenance closely. “I’ve hardly touched you, Your Majesty, and you’re already mewling for me.” his pupils are blown out as he tugs on your nipples, and watches in delight as you squirm and moan. “I suppose these pillowy tits of yours are sensitive enough to make you cum all alone…” his knee worms under your multitude of skirts, to press against your sex. with a surprised gasp, your thighs clamp around his leg, but it was already too late. his digit tips roll over your nipples in smooth teases, pressing them like buttons as you squirm and gasp, and grind your slick against his knee. “The king must not appreciate them. But I will.”

groping thick handfuls of squishy flesh, a groan gurgles at the back of his throat as he pushes your tits together, smashing them against each other, and his icy gaze flickers up to you. “Do you know what I love the best about a woman’s tits?” he asks, in a soft baritone that seems to send a quake straight to your core. you moan, breathless, and shake your head, before his own dips low enough to run his tongue in a thin stripe that creeps up the length of your cleavage, before he expels in a whisper, “They’re soft and warm, and when pressed together like this, create such a delicious hole to fuck.”

your head was spinning already at his words, so when his hands glide upwards and grip your shoulders, forcing the Queen of Midland to her knees in front of him, breasts jiggling and exposed and dress askew on your frame, you bent to his will without protest. “There we are. A pretty, obedient queen. Are you so awestruck by the visage of my peasant cock sliding between your royal breasts that you fold so easily?” there’s a faint smile on his kissable pout now, a powerful one, and he grasps hold of your chin with one hand, using the other to undo the complexity of his breeches. he forces your face up, to stare at him directly, and you swoon at the hard grip on your chin. “I will enjoy defiling you, little queen. But what’s even more exciting is that you will enjoy it so much more.”

your face was flushed of its usual tone, eyelids fluttering as they struggle to stay open. the heat between your bodies was almost too much to bear already. “Use me…” you plead, quietly, needy. “Use me, mercenary, degrade me. Do so and I will see to it that you climb the military ranks to your heart’s content.”

this pleases Griffith, and he runs his thumb over your trembling bottom lip, looming over your kneeling frame as he pumps his cock to attention. as it swells, and hardens, your eyeline drifts downwards and you become entranced at the thought, your mouth hanging open in expectancy.

“Such a beautiful mouth, warm and wet,” Griffith purrs, pushing his thumb in to anchor it against the fleshy inside of your cheek, “you know well a woman’s duty and where and how to take a cock, and I’m certain your mouth has been well trained by your husband.” your cheeks heat up with humiliation as he teases your gag reflex with his fingers, you cluck and try to push his fingers out, but they remain, and you only end up dribbling drool out of your mouth with an embarrassed whimper. “But I will need you to save these talents for him, your lovely mouth is your weapon, and you’ve just become my greatest ally in my war for my dream. You will use it so efficiently, pleasing your husband and whispering those persuasive words in his ear, until I have surpassed every general in his army. You will do this for me, yes?” you nod, batting your eyelashes, swirling your tongue around his fingers. Griffith was so breathtaking, and in this moment you were so aroused and at his mercy, that you would’ve agreed to do anything for him. “Very good, my desperate little queen. Now, save these lovely lips for their task, and I will fuck your luscious tits, instead.”

both of his hands find their way to your breasts again, and he takes a step forward, his stance wide imposing as his feet plant themselves on either side of your poofy skirt. the way his thick, hard cock lays against your chest is almost as if it had sought out its new home, and he pushes your breasts to mold around it, forming a tight canal as he teased a couple of strokes. with a slow rock of his hips, his cock tunnels between your breasts, the puffy, pink tip peeking out by your chin, and he rolls his head on his shoulders, eliciting a soft and pleasured sigh. “Very soft.” he croons, closing his eyes, his fingers digging into your squishy tits as his pace starts to pick up. “The perfect sheath for my cock, don’t you agree?”

you were too busy staring at the display, watching his sex glide between your breasts, that you simply elicit a quiet babble of a yes, your arms bent up by your sides, your hands balled into fists.

“My dear queen has never been degraded quite like this, her body used by cock in ways her sweet, little brain couldn’t even imagine,” he all but moans at the realization, working his jaw for a moment. “Look up at me, little queen. Let me see your mouth hanging open, the desire to suck what’s just out of your reach.”

you do as instructed, but you hardly so much as peek before you hear the sound of him expectorating— his spit splattering against your top lip and dripping down into your waiting mouth, mixing with your own that had gathered in a thirsty pool. you flinch, surprised, but then look up at him, wide eyed.

no one’s ever spit on you before.

and you liked it.

a lot.

Griffith’s grin is loose, his lips parted as he starts to pant, bucking his hips more forcefully, faster, fucking your titties with reckless abandon, kneading them roughly.

“You liked that, did you?” it was as if he could read your mind, his icy blue irises seeming to glow in the dim candlelight of your bedroom. “You are more and more fetching, the filthier I discover that you are.”

“A—again,” you whine, only to be graced with another shower of spit, and you moan, gratefully, before blurting out, “Thank you!”

the depravity in your voice was something you’d never heard before, especially not from yourself, and it should’ve been humiliating. but it wasn’t. it was exhilarating and liberating.

“Close,” Griffith grunts, his chest heaving, still adorned with his ruffled tie. the fact that he was still mostly clothed made this encounter all the more promiscuous, “I’m right there… right… there…” he was grinding his teeth, because you’d tucked your chin, pressing your lips together in a lazy O, letting his tip kiss the shape over and over. each time he drew back, you could taste the sticky sweet precum he left stamped to your lips. “Ah,” Griffith releases a sound, a croak as he grabs your hair at the root, pulling your head back and allowed his other hand to fall from your breasts, taking hold of his cock at its mighty base. his fingers rub against the fluffy, silver pubic hair his cock sprouts from, before starting to pump up and down wildly. “I will paint those beautiful tits of yours, my whorish queen. So you can smell of me. And remember how thoroughly I’ve fucked them—“

he hardly gets the words out before his release erupts from the swollen head of his cock, casting long, warm white streamers over your heaving breasts. your hands scramble to push them together, mimic the way he had to fuck them, so you may gather the entirety of his semen upon their expanse, and you peer up at him with wide, happy eyes. “G—Griffith…”

his ragged breath starts to slow, his platinum bangs damp and sticking to his forehead and his temple when he finally releases your hair with a heavy, satisfied sigh, “Did you enjoy that, Your Majesty?”

watching him come undone and quickly recover had your mind going blank, and your thighs sticky with your need, but you thoughtlessly nod, attempting to form the words themselves, but none came to your lips.

it’s all right, though, because Griffith pulls you to your feet. “Lovely, because now I will bend you over your vanity and tend to that sopping wet cunt of yours.”

[papirouge]

*Black people watching every racist White person looking old & hagard at 21 years old*

the reason we Black people age so fine/like wine is because everytime a racist White person calls us "nigger" or any smartass alliteration of it there's a karmic energy transfer sucking their life energy maintaining our youth, while they age in dog years 🤎

[writtenbyjeanofarc]

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. — !# :

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: Dark fantasy, yandere, smut.

𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: Griffith X You (fem! reader)

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: You and Griffith were the best of friends since childhood trying to get by in the kingdom of Midland. After a lack of communication for years due to a fight that cost you two your friendship, you and Griffith are invited to the same ball, where you two lock eyes together. Such a scenario is harmless, right? What could possibly go wrong?

𝖈𝖜: dubcon, mild sexual tension, implied stalking.

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗’𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: I must admit this was rushed. However, I have no regrets writing this.

“Griffith…. I can’t do this. I can’t afford our friendship to transcend into something more. My parents don’t approve of our…relationship. It’s best if we just stop meeting each other, okay?”

Chandeliers filled the ceiling of the ballroom, illuminating bright enough to light up the whole venue. The windows were decorated with crimson red curtains and white roses, giving off that elegant feel one could ever ask for when stepping into the palace. The doors were made of gold, stainless steel, and intricate patterns that boasted the wealth Midland’s kingdom had over the nations.

This feeling was a dream come true, you thought, as you danced with your partner of the night. You weren’t beyond friends, but it was nice having someone to tag along when dancing to the rhythm of classical music that echoed through the halls.

You were beautifully adorned with a gown as black as ebony and a flower crown that gave emphasis to your crowning glory. There is indeed beauty in the smallest of things the moment you step foot into the ball, giving you a glimpse of what it feels to be in possession of the luxury you usually never had. Is this what it was like being a part of the elite and the royal family in Midland? Perhaps.

You swore to yourself that there was nothing that could get in the way of your amazing time at the ball. You had a handsome partner to dance with, appetizing food and drink you could turn to in moments of hunger and thirst, and your friends to accompany you as the time passed. Your parents trusted your friends enough to protect and be by your side in case things don’t turn out rough ….so far as to let you be invited with your friends to sleep at the guest rooms of the palace.

You were a close friend of Princess Charlotte, which granted you some privilege at least. She handed out invitations to you and your friends to join the feast as it was her birthday being the main focus of the celebration. But what bothered you is her friendship with someone you refused to speak of—a man with long, wavy, and flowing white hair and a pair of icy blue eyes. A man whose dream was to build his own kingdom and have people work for his rule. A man who once claimed you as someone he wanted to keep for as long as time stretches itself into the void. A man who was once your childhood friend, but was somehow separated from you because of your family disapproving of the relationship.

It didn’t take even a second. The moment you looked back, he was amongst the crowd, right behind you and your partner. Seeing him dancing with another woman felt almost strange to you, as he wasn’t one to mingle with other girls other than just you. Anyhow, you chose to move on. Your parents always had a disdain for him, claiming he was a dangerous, selfish young man who took pleasure in taking lives within the battlefield. They say it wasn’t a very smart decision to be friends with him, and the fact that he confessed his feelings for you enraged your family even further.

You dared not revisit the past, better yet, you’d rather not reminisce about your friendship with him. He was not good for you, end of story.

“Griffith, I’ve had it. Let’s just stop meeting here, okay? Our relationship serves ZERO benefits and I just can’t stand the sight of you anymore!”

“Then we’ll fix things one by one. What is it about me that you so despise, hm?”

“The bloodshed, the destruction, the violence you constantly put yourself in! Why would I, a diplomatic person advocating for peace within Midland, care enough to associate myself with a monster who takes innocent lives like you!”

“You know that I take lives for the money. It is a part of what I wanted, dear. A dream the both of us can indulge in, if you so desire. I cannot abandon my dream. I will never betray it. Causing bloodshed isn’t just a hobby, it’s a part of my DREAM. And I shall NOT abandon it over your will.”

“Griffith…..I-”

“I told you this a long time ago but you recall that I said it once, and I would say it over and over again. You belong to me. Not even your family would break the bond we two once shared, and not even their disapproval of our relationship would stop the lengths I’d go just to have you in my grasp.”

Those were the last words that came into mind the moment your eyes darted to the man you so despised. He had a charming exterior, yes, but his ambitions were something you didn’t want yourself to be associated with. After cutting ties with him for good, you saw him once again in this ball. What a shame. You tried keeping your eyes off him by looking away, but things were too late as his stare met yours. Griffith, the man himself, knew not to abandon his partner, but this time he felt the urge to do so.

He always recognized you, from your well-donned makeup to your stunning black gown and flower crown.

Griffith was left with no doubt that he was looking at his one and only childhood friend who abandoned him. His gaze wasn’t that of an innocent look, his icy blue eyes staring at you in anger from head to toe. His eyes undressed and penetrated into your very being, it almost gave you goosebumps. Your eyes darted elsewhere as you looked back at your partner.

“Is there something wrong?” your partner asked.

“No, nothing of the sort.” you responded. “It’s just that….I feel as though I am being watched.”

“That’s definitely not right, do you want to leave the ballroom this early? I’ll inform the guards of your willful departure.”

“No, no…I-I can handle it.” you stuttered. “Just leave me be. I won’t let someone ruin my stay at this wondrous celebration.”

“Hey there!” Princess Charlotte greeted you from afar. “Are you enjoying the ball so far?”

“Ah! Yes, yes I am. However….”

“Oh, what seems to be the matter? You can tell me anything that bothers you!”

“I feel as if someone is watching me….” you said, your voice slightly shaky. “It must be him….”

“You mean…Griffith?” Princess Charlotte asked. “I don’t know much about you two, but I do hear he’s up to something…..”

“What is that ‘something’ you speak of, Princess?” you asked.

“He’s up to sleeping with someone for the night. Who knows who it is, he’s always….sleeping around, that is…” Princess Charlotte laughed. “Are you alright?”

“Well, for some weird reason, I’m not surprised. Griffith has never been the type to stick around with one anyway. He’s better off without me.” you scoffed.

“Awwww….[Name], don’t say that! I’m sure this ball would pave an opportunity for you two to reconcile! And, you know….have the two of you become friends again!” Princess Charlotte replied. “So cheer up! Come on now, would you like a drink?”

“Sure!” you agreed.

After a few drinks, you were dazed and confused with what surrounded you in the ballroom. Your partner and friends were half drunk, and you couldn’t deny how you felt tipsy after seven shots of sweet champagne.

“[Name]!! Are you alright?” Princess Charlotte asked, concerningly.

“I’m alright, Princess. Thank you for asking. I…just had…a few drinks, perhaps…? Can I….go to my bedroom now, please?” you stammered, slightly dizzy and lightheaded from the alcohol you consumed for the night.

“Oh, sure thing! Guards! Kindly escort my dear friend to the guest rooms, please!” Princess Charlotte called out.

Princess Charlotte hosting a sleepover for some guests was something you didn’t expect off your bucket list. When you were invited to her birthday celebration, you were more than excited to spend the night with your friends and the Princess….what you did NOT expect was Griffith being invited as well.

You were escorted to the top floor of the palace. All walls in each guest room were soundproof to avoid unwanted noises from interrupting other guests who were fast asleep. You, on the other hand, had to leave the party early due to your slight drunkenness. While carrying you to bed, your belongings were also brought back to the room beside the bedpost. The guards left you on your own, leaving the door slightly open in case you needed assistance from the servants of the palace.

Hours passed, and you fell fast asleep after feeling quite tipsy at Princess Charlotte’s ballroom party. Things weren’t occurring out of the ordinary, up until the door creaked open. Things weren’t right. Someone entered the room.

You were startled by the door opening, only for it to be closed once again, the lock of the door being heard aloud. It was quite pitch black in the night, the only source of light being the lightning that struck every once in a while. You had no clue of who entered the room, but you were suddenly filled with fear once you came back to your senses. The intrusion was unexpected, and you made a guess on who entered your room in such an ungodly hour. You were right.

It was Griffith.

You were intimidated by the silhouette that appeared before you, but that didn’t give you a reason to cower in fear. In fact, this gave you an opportunity to call for the guards despite being slightly drunk.

“Are you not going to play dumb with me this time, [Name]?” he asked, his anger being quite apparent with his words.

You saw this coming. You recognized that voice—it was that of a commander’s, like he’s always been. Chills ran down through your spine, not because you were afraid of him, but because you were frightened of what was about to happen next.

You felt a sense of urgency it almost hurts to not speak up.

“Griffith? What do you think you’re doing here?! Get out before I call the guards!”

“Do you really want to leave our relationship this badly? Hm?” Griffith asked. “Here I am, asking for one chance to fix the scars of our past, and after all we’ve been through, this is how you repay me?”

“Our relationship was never beyond friendship, Griffith. If you think I’d come back to you for the sake of partaking in your sick, twisted idea of a dream…you are gravely mistaken.”

“You aren’t useful to me just for the sake of my dream. I want you, [Name]. I’ve been watching you all along since we parted ways right in that village. And this time is where I arrive to claim what’s rightfully mine.” Griffith announced, taking five steps closer to your bed as you stared at the door planning your escape route. In an attempt to put both hands on your shoulders, you pushed him away.

“I was never yours.” you replied, bravely. “I wasn’t yours and I’ll never be yours. Please cut me some slack and leave at once, or I’ll have to call the guards on you.”

“The walls are soundproof and the doors are locked. Looks like there’s no room left for you to hide, hm? Just surrender your freedom to me. By surrendering to me, you’ll find peace once we establish our own kingdom.”

“Ever since you found the Band of The Hawk, I’ve already been looking for ways to avoid your company. You just aren’t the one for me, Griffith. I’m better off not knowing you’d engage in such savage battles, having people die and kick the bucket for the sake of achieving your dream.”

“If I can’t have your freedom, then I have no other choice but to force it away from you. I want you in my arms. And I will do anything to make you a part of my dream.”

“No.” you stood up for yourself.

“Are you resisting me….this badly, [Name]?” Griffith asked, ready to pounce onto you. “No. You’re not resisting. You’re not leaving. I won’t allow it.”

“I AM leaving.” In an attempt to stand up and reach for the door outside the guest room, Griffith grabbed you by the wrist with a push strong enough to knock you out towards the queen-sized bed. While you ended up sitting, he took a huge step forward, leaning lower to match your eye level, and forcefully stripped you off by unraveling the straps of your sleeveless black gown. Before you could even utter a word and speak, he pressed his lips right onto yours.

You tried your very best not to kiss him back and show an ounce of enthusiasm in your actions. While his tongue explored you with utmost fervor, you tried to protest with your arms pushing him away and your feet kicking off every obstacle past you. Griffith’s touch, however, was far stronger than you could ever imagine. Your eyes were wide open in shock, trying to escape with all your might though you were already covered in his scent.

Since it was your first kiss, you made an attempt to kiss back in a disorderly fashion so as to piss Griffith off and let him walk away due to your inexperience. But this didn’t stop him. He kissed you in the most aggressive, yet practiced manner imaginable, so far as to render your tongue numb and submissive to his motions. His heavy breathing and humming didn’t help alleviate the situation you both were in either, and you refused to admit that your own childhood friend turned you on.

Griffith wasn’t being gentle around this time, you thought—he had to be straightforward with his motives when dealing with a fragile little thing like you.

You waited like hell for this moment to stop. When Griffith pulled away, you panted hard and set your eyes upon the door.

“Good…..still not taken. Your body is truly miraculous not to feel the touch of another man worthy of your gaze.” Griffith hummed in satisfaction. Forcing your chin to look up at him, he murmured. “Look at me.”

You made a slight effort to look into those eyes you once despised. Griffith’s stare pierced into your very being, you felt as if you were being undressed straight from the way he eyed you from head to toe.

“You will remember this moment from the time we part ways. I want you to dream of this.”

While you were sitting back, Griffith stood upright, taking off his top garment by garment. You thought to yourself that this was your chance—you stood up to walk briskly, only to be found out and pushed back to the bed once again.

“If you think you can escape just because I had other matters to attend to, you are gravely mistaken.” Griffith said.

“What….do you mean by that?” you asked.

“You should be grateful a friend has been willing to give you the attention you so desire. Had I not known you for years, you would have fallen into the arms of the wrong man.”

“Pffft. Talk about being a control freak.” you scoffed. “Let me go.”

“I don’t crave control. I just know what I want.” Griffith replied, undoing his pants to reveal his half-erect member before you.

“Now, suck.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t play innocent with me now, dear.”

Griffith grabbed a fistful of your hair without warning, urging you to wrap your mouth around his cock much to your surprise and unwillingness.

“You must comply unless you want to be tossed around to the peasants of the land. Do this. Do this for my dream.”

“Mmmmhhh! Mmmmhhhh!!!”

Rendered unable to speak, your head was forced to bob up and down Griffith’s length as he moaned in satisfaction to your compliance. You tried to retreat, but his grip just strengthened itself as he forced himself down your throat. You tried your best not to let out a sputtering gag, his thrusts growing more animalistic as he was nearing his release.

You groaned in dissatisfaction as Griffith face-fucked you into oblivion while standing up, his frame bare and naked while you were halfway stripped off your gown. If it were not for the darkness that engulfed the palace’s rooms, you would have mistaken the scene to be that of a brothel’s interior.

Without Griffith’s assistance, you wouldn’t know what to do considering this was your first time pleasuring a man. He continued forcefully pushing your head inward and outward his cock with his powerful hand, so as to set the pace he wanted. He grunted as you let out a cough that signified your struggle against his member down your throat. But he didn’t stop right there. He was close to cumming.

It didn’t take long before Griffith pulled away, holding back his cum as he edged himself to save his release for later. Before you realized things, Griffith unzipped your gown, pushing it down and tossing the clothing elsewhere. He lifted you by putting one hand over your ass, and the other hand on your upper back.

Positioning you to lie down on the bed gave him an opportunity to lunge forward onto you, his face landing on your hard nipple. While he suckled on it gently, his two fingers traced its way to your clit, rubbing the nub fast in such a way that pleasured you. The sounds of his moaning, breathing, and humming did nothing more than to instill a feeling of guilt within you. You felt pleasure, yes, but your guilt for doing something sinful with the man you so despised made you want to hurl.

Griffith pulled away, still fingering you. “Mmmm….all the more to love. You seem to be slowly complying with my ways, dear. I like it.”

“Mmmmmhhhh~”

“Go on.”

After egging you on for a few minutes, Griffith edged you even more with his fingers exiting your entrance, earning a groan of frustration from you. Your eyes were closed and focused on his fingers’ rhythm, only to be interrupted by Griffith’s sudden departure from your clit.

“Gri…..ffith….”

“Hm?”

“Do it again…..please….”

Griffith chuckled. “Anything for my princess. Hmmm….I think you are ready to take me whole. But first, I will be needing this lovely cunt of yours to quench my thirst.”

“Ooooooooohhhh~”

Without a single warning, he slid himself between your inner thighs, spreading them wider. Griffith made an effort to raise your legs to rest just above his shoulders, assuming that of a position where he was about to eat you out.

He wasn’t joking. Griffith started to plant small kisses onto your clit, circling his tongue around as if he was French kissing it. His tongue explored every region of your small pearl, suctioning your most sensitive spot gently as to not accidentally hurt you. He used his two fingers to rub off the slick, prepping it before he finally re-inserted them right into your hole. You retaliated.

“Agh! It burns, help!” you protested.

“Bear it.” Griffith said, slightly frowning. “This will be crucial to prepping you way before you get to have me inside. Now, relax yourself, and do as I tell you.”

Griffith stopped talking at that very moment, seriously eyeing your pussy with great passion and dominion over your body. His face landed in between your labia, licking a strip off of your soaked cunt as he thrusted his fingers in and out of your wet entrance. You yelped, both out of burning pain and pleasure.

Then came Griffith’s proper response, he bobbed his head in a specific direction, eating you out like a crazed animal in heat. He spared no untouched region within your virginal depths, lathering his long tongue around your cunt’s sensitive brown/pink surface. Similar to sucking, he moaned while eating you out for his own selfish pleasure, which aroused you to a point of whispering each syllable of his name repeatedly, with a couple of “yes” that left your mouth.

Noises of whimpers and sloppy gobbling sounds filled the guest room, and since everything was soundproof, yelling out for help considering the party was pointless considering the party long ended and everyone invited were already asleep in their designated guest rooms.

Griffith sped up his pace, unleashing his inner freak as he licked and kissed every spot of your pussy’s semi-interior like a hungry wolf.

“Griffith…..I’m gonna….”

This was a sign that urged Griffith to pull away.

“Hold it off.” Griffith commanded.

Your pussy throbbed HARDER as he stopped eating you out in the middle of your incoming orgasm. This moment was truly not the time, you thought, and what you waited for was Griffith’s final goal—to take you in missionary.

“I’m going to take you nice and deep, and you’re going to be a good girl for me, yes?” Griffith asked, letting out a smirk.

You shook your head with all your might, denying that Griffith has been the reason you were soaked up in all this mess. Tears ran down your face, smothering your mascara all over your cheeks even though such wouldn’t be noticed by Griffith, since it was dark.

“Don’t lie to me.” Griffith said, his face strictly maintaining eye contact with you. “Your body tells me otherwise.” He grabbed you by the thighs which closed voluntarily, spreading your legs wider to gain access to your entrance once more. Before even entering you, Griffith teases your clit by rubbing the tip of his cock over it, earning a moan from you in return.

Then comes the hard part. Griffith inserts the head into your entrance, stretching it in a way where it feels like burning to you. He ignores your pleas, focusing on getting his cock to be buried into you in no time.

“Too tight, God be damned.” Griffith groaned. “Shhh, I got you. Shhhhh. You don’t have to worry anymore. I know what I’m doing.”

Griffith thrusted forward, ensuring that his length buried itself deep into your cunt. This earned a yelp from you, as you were not expecting his sudden intrusion into your guts.

“Griffith…..Why….are you doing this? I-”

“It’s because I’m the only one who can make you feel like the most special woman who has ever walked Midland’s ground. Apart from the hordes of men that want you, it is only I who promised to build my own kingdom for us to rule over the weak. You shall be my Queen, my Countess—and by achieving this dream, I would be able to fulfill my utmost duties as a citizen of Midland…..to weed out the poor and unfortunate from the ends of this world.”

“Huh? If that’s it, then I don’t want to-”

“Shut it.” Griffith scoffed. “You’ll take whatever’s been given to you, my love. From our childhood to where we currently are, I’ve always wanted to make you a part of my dream. And no one, not even your family, can stop us from doing anything to achieve it.”

Griffith began to slowly rock his hips in and out of you, the sensation of pain merging with a feeling far more pleasurable. Sounds of fast clapping filled the room, making it smell of sex all over. While doing the do, Griffith placed both his hands on your breasts, fondling and playing around with them as they bounced according to his rough motions.

Griffith set a faster pace this time, his thrusts growing more animalistic and primal. Fucking you felt good to him despite the tightness that clenched around his cock.

“Such a sweet, sweet girl dolled up just for me.” Griffith praised, his heavy breathing intensifying the scene. “I wonder how many men managed to take you in one night and if they’d ever compare to my abilities at present.”

“Ah! It….doesn’t…matter….!!!” you screamed. “Nnnnggghhh…..Griffith!!”

“….Well? What is it, my dear? Cat got your tongue?” Griffith laughed as he bucked his hips mercilessly onto your tight pussy. “Mmmmmm….I can’t wait to have this body all to myself, for the sake of….my dream…..!!!!”

“Griffith…..I can’t…..I can’t handle…..!!!”

“After all, you’re in my control now. So it’s best to surrender before I try anything else.” Griffith whispered as he leaned closer to your ear.

Griffith ruthlessly pressed his body against yours and forcefully kissed you once again, his hips pounding into you like a rabid dog. You couldn’t see him directly in the dark nor speak, since he took advantage of your open mouth to slide his tongue in and lap at every fluid your mouth had to offer. You could feel him getting close, and as much as you would like to protest your way out of this mess, Griffith sucked your tongue in the most disgustingly experienced way possible.

Not inside….

You thought. “Mmmmmhhhhh, mmmmhhh!!!!”

Griffith deepened the kiss and didn’t look back. He didn’t care as to whether he kissed terribly at this point, for all he wanted was to take full ownership of you. His hips rocked faster and faster, his moment of release coming much closer.

Pulling away, Griffith made a conscious effort to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, whispering inaudible sweet nothings into it like a lover in despair.

“Mmmmmm……All the….more to love…..No one will ever come close to making you feel the same way……”

“Griffith….Not inside……I’m going to—ah!”

“Then do it, love. Grind your way against me. Claw at me like your life depends on it. Show me how much you appreciate my efforts.”

After nutting in you raw, you moaned aloud while Griffith grabbed your hips forward to make sure every last drop of cum unloaded into you. His pacing slowed down as well as the sounds of cheeks slapping against skin.

“You did well, my love. Now open your legs wide and show me who this pussy belongs to.”

You, of course, rode out your orgasm and came down from your high. After the feeling subsided, you closed your legs intentionally out of shame.

“I said….open wide.” Griffith frowned as he used all his might to spread your legs once more.

Despite the sex being over, things didn’t stop there. Griffith shoved three fingers up your pussy, twisting and turning them in order to elicit a moan from you despite achieving a full-on afterglow.

After a while, Griffith pulled away once more after testing the waters.

“You did well, my love.”

Those were the last words you heard before your orgasms led you to fall asleep soundly and peacefully.