#whether or not it turns into a romance it's just so satisfying

[boku-no-anime-phase]

Can't believe they made momokarun specifically for me as a sucker for "slow burn neurodivergent cinnamon roll weirdos who don't know about sexual attraction in a cute fluffy intensely devoted domestic friendship to lovers" trope

[yandere-sins]

Imagine getting isekai’ed into otome game as a background character, watching the main character going down routes as you live your peaceful, mundane life, but you’ve unknowingly been going down a route as well, a route for a hidden character that you didn’t discover during your time playing the game.

That character being the reason the game has a dark content warning.

Gosh anon, that idea is so good!!!! I didn't know it would tickle all the right places in my brain, but when I started I couldn't stop lol. Love it, thank you for sending it in ♥

If this had one of these super long titles that are tmi it would be:

I got Isekai'ed into an Otome Game as a Background Character and now I Have to Finish It with the Secret Yandere Love Interest!!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

A serene smile spread over your lips as you watched the two lovebirds in the corner of your coffee shop.

Swirling the milk into a cup, it created a little white heart surrounded by foamy coffee, its aroma drifting into your nose. Had someone told you that the little things like a cup of coffee made with love and care were enough to give you the peace of mind you always wanted in your previous life, you would have laughed at them. For you, it had always been the hustle, the making money, finding a partner, and creating a family. Make everyone proud while being successful, whether it costs you nights of sleep or days without proper meals. But looking at yourself now, it all seemed so far away now, and you let out a content sigh before setting down the cup in front of the customer at the bar. 

"You seem happy today," your regular at the counter noted, picking up the cup and taking a moment to appreciate the aroma just like you had. A smile sneaked onto their lips, too, after they took a sip, and you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride and happiness when they gave you a satisfied nod. 

"I am! I'm really getting accustomed to my new life here, it's... been a while since I've been so content."

The truth behind everything that happened to you was something you couldn't speak about lightly. Not when it turned the life you knew upside down, leaving you to start over completely. One day you were an employee of a well-known company, responsible for sales and reports and everything stressful. And the next, you were in your favorite, cozy video game, running the coffee shop the main character liked to visit with all the romance options in the game.

Isekai was the genre that came to mind when you thought about your situation. Luckily you were spared the memories of your death in the real world, the circumstances blurry as you barely remembered going home late from work, only to wake up in this very different universe. Perhaps you were just comatose, and this was a dream. Still, by now, you had managed to slip into your role as the barista of the small coffee shop, a barely mentioned background character, just fine.

Your eyes jumped back to the couple in the corner, giggling and teasing each other over a group project, and you felt an immense relief you weren't reincarnated as the main protagonist and had to go through the years of studying and trying to establish connections with the love interests again. You already did that in your old life, and it wasn't as romantic and fun as the game made it out to be. You only played it because it got your mind off things, the art was pretty, and it had the exact amount of cozy time management you needed to relax. But living as the main character in it? No, thank you!

"Jealous?" your regular teased, and you chuckled, shaking your head. They tapped their—now empty—cup, and you took it from them, replacing it with some water until you had the next cup of coffee ready for them.

"I just think it's cute. I never had someone so interested in me they'd take me out for coffee and share their cake with me when I was younger."

Your words tasted a little bitter on your tongue. Still, you genuinely couldn't wish for anything but the main character's happiness. It was just the feeling of being loved, desired, and wanted that you missed, even though your new life was more than satisfactory despite you feeling a little lonely sometimes.

"Well, it's never too late to start," they chuckled, taking up their fork and cutting off the tip of their strawberry shortcake, including the big chunk of strawberry on top, picking it up and holding it out towards you. 

"Oh, I wouldn't dare--"

"I insist! As thanks for the amazing coffee every time I come here."

Nudging your lips with their fork, you let out an awkward chuckle. It was okay, right? They wouldn't sue you for eating the cake they paid for, would they? This was just a silly little game. What could go wrong with you accepting their kindness?

Opening your lips, you let them feed you the cake, taking a moment to let the sweet and fruity notes mix with the fluffy whip cream before you were sent straight to heaven. Not to toot your own horn, but your baking skills had improved so much since you started working at the shop. Who knew you had that in you?

Occupied with the moment of bliss as you let the cake flavor mix in your mouth, you hummed happily before devoting yourself back to making the coffee with a smile on your face. Unaware of your regular fixating on the fork you had just eaten from, staring at it like it was some strange artifact. Your phone dinged softly in its drawer, and you checked it briefly to see the notification pinging up, saying, "Achievement unlocked: Cake-Master - Provide the most delicious cake to your customers."

"Excuse me!" the main character called out to you, stepping up to the counter, and you directed your attention to her, ignoring the little game notification you've been receiving since starting your new life here, the love interest not far away before the two began fighting over who was going to pay the bill this time lovingly. Of course, the love interest won, but you wouldn't have expected it any other way. Seeing the blush on the main character's face after her romance option told her he'd "always take care" of her made you grin like a little fan, and you cheered them on in your head. 

By the time you returned to your regular, their knuckles had gone white with how hard they were gripping the fork in their hand, their eyes following the couple who was about to leave. For a moment, it made you wonder if they had a crush on either of them, their sweet interaction surely uncomfortable if that was the case. But you didn't remember there being a jealousy scene in the game. You'd know, almost playing it 100% before your death. There apparently was a secret route you never got but were trying your hardest to achieve. Now you were left to wonder what it entailed.

But the second you returned, they looked up at you, expression softening and the tension disappearing, and you chalked it up to having witnessed a cringe moment that they had gotten so awkward. "Thank you for the cake, that was really nice of you! Do you want another fork?" you asked and were met with a headshake and a smile. 

They quickly began eating their cake and complimenting your baking skills, stroking your growing ego when they rubbed their belly. 

"I never had a cake that good!" they proclaimed, and you laughed out loud, overjoyed that you had made them so happy. 

"Say..." they suddenly spoke up again, leaning on the counter and watching you with gentle eyes. Your heart set out for a second, tension rising as you didn't know what they were going to ask. Ever since you opened the coffee shop, the main character, love interests, and this regular had come by constantly. If you were honest, you enjoyed their visits more and more. Their presence felt like it belonged here with you, and you were a part of something bigger after all, washing away the small, lonely part of you. 

And maybe... just maybe... this was how your happy end would play out.

"Are you this nice to every customer?"

Halting your movements, you set aside the brew head that you used on the espresso machine, despite having to clean it, thinking about your answer for a moment. It was a strange question to ask someone who worked in customer service. Still, you appreciated your regular, so you didn't want to give them a snarky answer.

"Uhm, well, I am just trying to make everyone feel welcome! But of course, it's a bit different with my regulars! After all, they come here often, like a second family. So I guess I'm a bit nicer because you really get to know and appreciate these people that stay to chat and tell stories."

"I see," they muttered. "Family, huh..."

After that, you suddenly were swamped with sudden orders, excusing yourself to fulfill them, chatting and laughing with even the people that were just passing by. Maybe you really were just nice? Perhaps this new environment had made you more relaxed and gentle than the harsh world you lived in, and it was showing? But their question was shoved into the back of your mind as you kept fulfilling orders and earning your keep.

Once the rush was over, you returned to your regular, only to find their seat empty. Strange, you thought. You could have sworn that you felt their eyes on you the whole time you were away, but luckily, they didn't walk out on their tab, leaving the money and a folded-up napkin beneath their empty cup for you to find. You quickly stored away the bills, trusting your regular with knowing what they had to pay after so many weeks of the same order.

You were about to throw away their napkin when you noticed some red marks on them, unwrapping the paper to find a note scribbled in what you had to assume was ink. 

"You're so beautiful when you laugh."

The surprise wore off quite fast, and you smiled, thinking nothing of it but that it was a nice compliment from your regular. Still, you ended up throwing the napkin away—not knowing if it was dirty, after all—taking the coffee cup and plate to the sink to clean them, overseeing the red tip on the fork that was too dark to be from the strawberry.

The rest of your day was uneventful, and by the time you were closing, you were tired and ready to tug in for the night, wrapping up your business at the shop quickly before walking home. You didn't have a chance to look at your phone since you glanced at the achievement notification, so you took it out, startled when you saw a dozen new messages. 

Achievement unlocked: Happy new life - Be content with your new life

Achievement unlocked: A fork for two! - Share a fork with someone special

Achievement unlocked: Jealousy - Make someone special jealous

Achievement unlocked: Soothing - Calm someone special down with your presence

Achievement unlocked: Family - Have someone be moved by your words

Achievement unlocked: The nicest person in town - Be beloved by all, but especially by someone special

Achievement unlocked: Blood in the cup - Have someone hurt themselves at your coffee shop

Achievement unlocked: Wonder-Barista - Complete twenty orders in less than thirty minutes

Achievement unlocked: Strange compliment - Receive a compliment through unusual means

Achievement unlocked: Blooming infatuation - Have someone special fall in love with you

Achievement unlocked: Shop-Pro! - Close the shop twenty times after making a profit from your work

Achievement unlocked: Tired - Hard workers deserve to relax

You blinked a few times, surprised by what you were reading and a little weirded out by some of these achievements. They gave you some extra coins in your shop till and reputation with the townspeople, so you usually didn't mind them. But to say some of their descriptions were weird was an understatement. You couldn't even remember someone getting hurt at your workplace that day.

By the time you reached your apartment, you decided to ignore the strange notifications and just let the day come to an end with a hot bath and your favorite show. But you were startled when your phone suddenly began ringing loudly, even though you had turned off the sound back at the coffee shop after the first notification. The first messages that appeared before you were more achievements, and you stopped turning the key in your door as you read them.

Achievement unlocked: Follower - Have someone special follow you home

Achievement unlocked: Welcome home! - Arrive at home, not alone

Achievement unlocked: Wherever you go, I'll be watching you - Ɨ ΔΜ ΔŁŴΔ¥Ş ŴΔŦĆĦƗŇǤ ¥ØỮ

Lifting your head, you looked around you, glancing over your shoulder and into the courtyard below. No one was out; everyone was at home eating dinner and occupied with their lives. Confused, you swiped all the notifications away before another pop-up appeared.

ALERT! You're about to enter X's route. Do you want to continue?

> Yes > No

Panicked at this point, you pressed "No," but nothing happened. You kept tapping it repeatedly, not understanding what was happening with your phone. But nothing changed, the notification staying in place. The sound of something breaking inside your apartment tore your focus away from your phone, startling you. 

You must have finally managed to close it, the pop-up disappearing just as you unlocked the door to your apartment, still having held on to the key when you were surprised by the sound. Darkness and silence greeted you from inside, everything seemingly normal.

Majorly confused, you shook your head, slowly entering the hallway leading inside. "Hello?" you called out, reaching for the light switch. The light flickered on, and... there was no one. Holding your breath, no sound reached your ears, and you groaned, realizing you got freaked out about... nothing. 

This wasn't some kind of horror game, and the story never had a murder-solving subplot. True, the ratings for it were kind of strange—it being rated as 18+ on the website—but seriously, what should happen in a cozy little city like the one the game played in? You didn't even think they had a police station here.

Pushing off your shoes as you shrugged off the weird feeling from before, you walked up the hallway to your living room, turning on the light before coming to an abrupt halt. There were broken pieces of glass underneath your living room window, but what really freaked you out came into view only when you lifted your head. You could look into the mirror of your cabinet door from your position, red marker dripping from it as if someone had hastily scribbled on it just seconds ago. You weren't sure it was a pen anymore, judging by its deep red color and the fluidity of it.

"𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺"

Your phone pinged.

Achievement unlocked: 

On the Highway to Hell - Unlock the secret route

[3rdgymbros]

━ 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐀𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐰 !

— pairing; vil schoenheit x ramshackle! reader

— summary; you throw rocks at his window, and vil expects a love confession, not whatever this is.

— notes; this was fun to write hehe. please donate to my kofi or consider commissioning me if you like my work bc im broke and need cash. and know that i am mentally smooching everyone who reblogs my stuff.

❋ It’s almost midnight, and you’re panicking.

❋ You can’t remember if Professor Crewel assigned homework, and you aren’t keen to be on the receiving end of his whip if you’ve forgotten to complete his assignments.

❋ Grim is absolutely no help (big surprise) and none of your other classmates can remember if there’s homework. Naturally, you figure that if anyone would know, it’s Vil, the epitome of discipline.

❋ Which is how you find yourself standing outside his window and throwing rocks to get his attention, like a medieval messenger.

❋ Inside, Vil’s thoroughly absorbed with his intricate skincare routine. He’s got the heater turned on, he’s wearing his favourite pink silk robe, and the lovely scent of lavender aroma oil fills the luxurious space.

❋ Initially, he assumes the tapping is just a stray branch. But when it doesn't stop, he finally gets up to investigate, his face twisted up into a scowl by the interruption at such a late hour.

❋ But when he looks out the window and sees you standing there with a handful of pebbles, Vil immediately assumes that it’s some grand, romantic gesture. He sighs dramatically, envisioning himself in a scene straight out of a classic romance movie.

❋ “Of course, someone would confess to me this way. Such effort deserves acknowledgment.”

❋ Critically, Vil surveys his reflection in the mirror. Once he’s satisfied with what he sees, he throws open the window with a grand flourish. The night breeze tousles his hair perfectly and a soft glow from his bedside lamp casts him in an ethereal light as he leans down, ready to hear your impassioned plea.

❋ “Hey, Vil! Do you remember if Professor Crewel gave us homework today? ’Cause I didn’t write it down . . .”

❋ The silence that follows is deafening. Vil blinks. Once. Twice.

❋ He’s not sure whether he heard that right. But you’re staring up at him so expectantly, looking completely unromantic. He’s envisioned a poetic declaration or to be stolen away in the dead of the night by his admirer, but no — he’s apparently nothing but a glorified assignment planner to you.

❋ “You threw rocks at my window this late at night . . . To ask me about your homework?” His voice is all clipped elegance, though internally, he’s seething. But externally . . . His face is turning a shade of red that could even rival Riddle’s.

❋ Oblivious to his growing rage, you blink up at him. “Well, yeah. It’s fine if you don’t know either, I figure I can —"

❋ Vil’s face instantly goes from expectant to offended, a mix of disbelief and exasperation clouding his features. The sheer audacity of interrupting his evening routine for something so mundane makes a vein throb in his temple.

❋ Without another word, he slams the window shut without answering your question.

❋ The sound of the lock clicking is so loud it echoes in the quiet night.

❋ “— Ask Epel instead?”

❋ When it becomes clear that Vil’s not coming back out anytime soon, you decide to head to Epel’s room (they live in the same dorm anyway, and you’re already here).

❋ Back inside his room, Vil is pacing furiously. He’s not sure what bothers him more: the lack of romance in this situation or the fact that you didn’t even seem remotely flustered at the sight of his dishevelled beauty.

❋ “Who even does that?!” He mutters, reapplying his eye cream aggressively.

❋ Out of the corner of his eye, Vil watches as you shuffle off into the night, not even pleading for his forgiveness before you go, or begging for another glimpse of his face.

❋ The absolute gall of you.

[swaqcenix]

The Devil was an Angel First | N. Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x fem!stripper reader

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Summary: It was a risk and a job worth taking, simply use your ability to seduce to earn enough money to get you your university degree. Yet you didn't anticipate the owner of the strip-club to take a significant interest in you, but what can she do? As soon as Natasha saw you, you were hers.

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x!fem stripper reader, employee x boss, forbidden romance

Warnings: 18+, slight dark!natasha romanoff, manipulation, strip-teasing, lap-dancing, pole-dancing, fingering, semi-public sex, oral (n to r), mommy kink, strap-on, choking,degrading, over-stimulation, handcuffs and toys, reader is easily manipulated!

Word Count: 9K

AN: This is heavily inspired by the song Pray by Xana, you could listen to it while reading this to get an extra bit of the atmosphere ;)) Also I wil be taking small requests or drabbles for this specific fic/pairing as I'm secretly addicted to this concept.. (not so secretly.)

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

Slipping amongst the crowds, your eyes dart around the room as the sounds of the club itself echo through your body. The lighting was illuminating each corner of the room, but stopping in certain bleak shadow's contrasting well with those who put on a performance.

The smell of slick sweat and hot bodies mingling through the room made your nose twitch through instinct and it was around this time your mind was wondering whether this was the right call.

University had been always your major goal in life, pass through High-school get your qualifications and your grades, just don't fuck up. For most of your life you'd remained hidden in the shadows, contempt to live life remaining hidden away while the flashlight of beams hit the sky's ground touching everything but yourself.

Yet apparently life deemed it not apparent that this was the case for you. Instead when your family collided into debuts and the household becoming a simply standing memory of what once was and never could be's you knew the longing for snatching your degree's up in higher education was slipping like fog and air through your fingers.

Would that be a common knowledge concept and reality to turn towards darker paths? Well, darker in regards to your family's eye-line anyway. You simply saw it as an opportunity for people who enjoyed doing things their own way, their own style and didn't wish to follow into the lights of the sky like others we're unique.

Your family wouldn't be appreciating your actions but it didn't matter. It realistically couldn't no matter how much they perhaps frowned at the idea. You could perhaps go into depth of how it wasn't selling your body but allowing it to be seen, allowing others to get a taste of the salt and the the aroma of flavours their hearts desire, but never fully satisfied.

Pole-Dancing wasn't something you'd be opposed to doing by any means. Watching the way they drift through the air, holding onto the bar with such pristine confidence and high agility hit your stomach in all the right ways. Nimble and soft fingers holding onto the pole with such grace their body's dancing into the fire of the night, other's moving with grace and affirmation.

The men and women watching their every action their every step with such a wide eye their lustful thoughts screaming with such a power your own ears rang. Black stiletto's clinging to the poles with a strength that made you doubt your own abilities despite having the darkest of secrets lingering on thoughts.

Quiet girls always tend to have the deepest of desires, the fieriest of personality. The set determination on being quiet, being forgotten and not wanting to be seen always portrays just how difficult life could dance around in a sea of wonder and mystery.

The air smelt so much of blood sweat and tears, the smoke driving the fuel into everyone's body, an ignition lighting up. You turned towards the bar deciding to opt on a drink, probably a hardcore whiskey if you wanted to get through this alive and sane, the burning feeling would ground you heavily to reality.

Turning on your heels, your contrasting deep-blood heels clacked heavily on the floor, treading with a walk that helped you do the one thing you'd avoided doing. Being seen.

Eyes watched, heads tilted and words of whisper drifted across the room as you brought the attention away from the other worker's sensing some hard glares and other longing looks. It was no secret you had the looks, it was just never in your cards, not your line of sight, but the devil didn't always play with fire until pushed within the flames.

"Whiskey neat please," your voice was firm and held no conversation for an argument.

The barman glanced at you and you simply watched as his eyes glanced at you, looking you up and down. You could practically feel the budge in his pants grow from here and the self-refraining you were doing from rolling your eyes was repulsing.

You weren't about to start off your first time in this place by pissing off the men you could encounter more often in telling them you not into indulging in their acts. Explaining to men who couldn't understand the word no when it comes to simply not being interested in them was not a path you cared to go down for the time being, instead settling on biting your tongue.

Sure, it didn't mean you couldn't make some impressions around here though. You'd already made a rather splendid entrance by sauntering around capturing lingering eyes of the men and women which allowed your red tinted lips to tilt upwards.

The barman worked nimbly, his hands being heavy but not without meaning as he flipped bottles around like he was performing an act. Normally this would entice most women to jump for joy and use some ogle eyes towards him. However, you were in fact not most women, you simply walked through the world of shadows until you decided to finally allow the light to kiss your skin in all the right areas.

He slowly slid the drink down to you as you tossed him the dollar bills owed and sauntered off in means to find the owner of this establishment. The music moved above you like puppet's on a string as you did your best to try and move through the blinding strobe lights and bodies mingling into one.

Guessing that the owner would find you before you found them, your body decided to make it's way over to a table waiting for them to arrive with introductions, you crossed your legs simply playing with the bottom of the whiskey glass, swirling it around for play as you chucked it down your throat.

The feeling of the burn hit you instantly and you squinted for a moment before a heavy sigh escaped the opening of your lips leaning back in the chair once again becoming one with the shadows. Besides the demons in everyone else's heads seemed to be having their own rituals one of which you weren't enticed on indulging in such acts.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you.

The approaching sound of heels made your body almost churn with anxiety for reasons currently unknown to you. Doing well to not attract attention you glanced through your glass trying to picture who was approaching and a flash of red curls took through the reflection.

Your lips tilted upwards in a mischievous smirk as you leaned back in your seat, a feeling of excitement coursing through your veins. Your mind wandered as you presumed the mystery woman was approaching ready to allure you into sinful acts of seduction and dance through desire into the night.

Instead, what was not predicted was the black stiletto heels coming to a stand still right behind your table, a hot and heavy breath lingering in your ear. Your body tensed and you felt the smirk dripping from the woman behind you as you tilted your head turning around to be met with someone who should be the devil in disguise, one to lure you entirely out of the shadows and touch the fires to ignite you entirely.

"You must be Y/N. Y/LN. I am Natasha Romanoff, Miss Romanoff to you. Owner of Desiring ignition. I will interview you in the back rooms if you don't mind?" her voice asking a question but orders slipping from the sinful tongue.

Your body moved before your lips did and you found yourself following after the redhead like an obedient dog, for a minute forgetting yourself entirely and not thinking, just acting like a string was tugging you along.

Her red hair was distinctive even against the darkened tone of the room, the lights dimming in and out didn't affect it as it shone like fire and ash, the devil reincarnated you knew. Her hips swayed with an intent to drive a man wild but in a way she didn't wish for any of them, simply alluding to her own intoxicating beauty, poison and toxic.

The eyes followed you both and you scampered after her down a neon-purple hallway, the colour's almost blinding you within a trance. Finding your bearings you knew you'd need to pull yourself together if you wanted this job so decided to play in the same game, the same chess board. Play with the devil.

Her hands clasped tightly around the handle as Miss Romanoff lead you into what you presumed to be her office before shutting the door behind her. The noise seemed to almost be drowned out now, as though she'd installed noise cancellation into her office.

Your eyes scanned the room trying to analyse and get anything you could on this woman. You'd always liked to get to know someone through their surroundings and what that said person associates themselves with, especially if it works in your favour.

The office itself was dimly lit but well cleaned and decorated minimally. To your left there was a desk, mahogany coloured with 2 chairs on ether side, the desk holding files that your eyes couldn't capture from the distance you stood. A solemn picture held itself strongly on the desk of what you could make out to be a younger blonde woman, perhaps the same age as you or a couple years older.

The redhead nodded her head towards the chair on the other side of her desk, before sitting down on a black leather one herself. Even sat down in the dimly lit office you could tell she was a woman of business, not one to be meddled with nor to cross without paying the price which for yourself was bad given your track record of loving to stir the pot.

Her eyes lingered over your own for a while examining you, looking you up and down in a way your body almost jolted at the sheer intensity of her gaze. Not wanting to keep the older woman wanting any longer, your feet moved on the own accord sitting down on the chair opposite of her. Her posture was still up straight, impossibly held and elegant opposite of your own.

"So," she began by looking through your files as though you'd be arrested under a warrant issued for the most wanted criminal.

"You've got good grades from schools, a track record of not seeming to show herself within public eye and even held debates and meetings within clubs. Your jobs previously consist of coffee shops and waiting so what exactly is it you have to offer here," she stated her voice was laced with disdain and annoyance.

"Well that's correct yes, but I have goals in life and things I need to achieve. I can't get there without doing this first, trust me it's a last resort," you replied cringing inwardly at your response.

It was a stupid mistake you'd created by saying this job was a last resort. That would be the last thing this goddess of a pain was waiting to hear, especially when wanting to employ you. You'd fucked up royally but like she stated, you had a tendency for debate clubs and there was nothing better you were good at than worming you way into or out of situations.

Her eyebrows shot upwards at your response and you watched with fear as the redhead perused her lips together eyeing you once again with a look of utter irritation.

"So you see us as a last resort?" She asked stiffly.

"No, nothing like that-" you tried to reason but her hand waved in the air dismissing your comment before you'd began.

"Y/L/N. Do you know how many people come here asking for jobs hm?" Her head titled to the side lips twitching while watching you squirm.

"No..."

"Over 200. How many do you reckon we employ exactly?"

The venom and toxic poison in her voice almost sent you spiralling you couldn't help but feel entirely hooked on it. Yet the feeling in your mind told you to run, leave before you headed down the road of embarrassment and utter danger.

"I'm not sure, Miss Romanoff," you voice was surprisingly even for someone being scolded in a private office room.

"The answer is 4% out of those 200 get employed. Yet, a silly girl like you walks along struts in like she owns the fucking place and says it's a last resort," she taps her finger on the side of her face mockingly.

"No.. I can dance and I'm incredibly talented on a pole," you tried to reason but she once again shushed you in a dismissive tone.

"You're dismissed off you go," she shooed you off and your legs stood by themselves your mind no longer in control of your body.

As your body walked towards the door head daring not to look back your hands went towards the door handle, before lingering on the metal for a moment. Your mind danced away thinking of thoughts and how you couldn't give up so easily. You came in this bar, this strip-club looking for a job and you'd be damned to go without one. Sure the woman behind you was a stole cold bitch, but she came with fire. You had the gasoline to set this place alight.

Turning on your heels, you faced the older woman who went from looking down at her files with disinterest to whipping her head up. Miss Romanoff tilted her head to the side as you approached with a surge of confidence that you didn't know you had running through your veins setting your blood alight. Your body leaning over her desk you smirked as she watched and you could sense her tense beneath you.

"Let me show you what I can do," your voice was whispered with sultry and laced with such confidence that was missing moments ago.

The redhead thought for a moment, her lips twitching ever so slightly at the sides before tilting up. She removed herself from her chair carrying her composure elegantly as ever before entering your personal space.

"Be my guest, show me what you can do," she smirked.

Before you could even blink, Miss Romanoff snatched your hand and lead you out of her office towards one of the unoccupied rooms. The sparks you felt when her hand clasped your hand and rising towards your wrist jolted your stomach giving you somersault's.

She on the other hand, snatched her hand away as quickly as she took it and you weren't sure why that caused such a sting within you. The older woman wasn't required to touch you in any way, but her response was as though she'd been burnt in opposition to your own body's reaction wanting to feel her touch ignite you more.

Suddenly the vast realisation of reality crashed down on you and your stomach churned in thought. Your mindset couldn't be thinking this type of way in any shape or form towards someone who could perhaps be your boss. This wasn't about to become some cliche film style where you fuck your boss, you couldn't give her that style of power.

Yet, as you let your mind indulge further in thoughts, she wasn't your boss. Not yet and not now, besides if you wanted this job a thirst to prove yourself to the flames of hell as she was, you were going to have to join the game.

Heading further down the hall, Natasha stopped at the door to her left and you titled your head in anticipation. The feeling of not knowing what you could possibly find was always thrilling yet had an edge of dread that filled your lungs and ran through your veins.

Observing her silently, you watched the redhead slip out a singular key from her pocket before slipping it with ease into the lock and turning it. Her hand which you tried definitely too hard to not focus on wrapped around the handle turning it before standing to the side awaiting you to head inside.

Silently entering the room, you found yourself coming to a sudden halt at the sight that stood before you. A singular pole stood in the middle of the room, tall and with a bolden look about it almost calling to you begging you to dance upon it. Towards the corner of the room lay what you predicted to be a lot of BDSM toys ranging from handcuffs and blindfolds to nipple clamps and leg spreaders.

Your cheeks flushed heavily at the sight as heat ran through your body and you found yourself turning away from the toys, eyes instead landing on a chaise lounge. The furniture was a deep red, crimson in fact darkened like the blood flushing heavily through your veins, perhaps darker than Ms Romanoff's hair. Turning your head in her direction you realised she'd been watching your reaction as you absorbed and gawked at the room, causing you to flush even further.

The older woman simply smirked at you before making her way over to the chaise lounge, looking you up and down in what you originally thought was a judgmental look now seemed otherwise, before sitting with determination down onto the chair.

For a moment it was silence as she only stared at you examining you for a mere moments that felt like hours before rolling her eyes and scoffing. Her hand raised upwards as her index finger- that looked incredible you might add- came out and directed at the pole giving you a pointed look. Realisation hit your face and you realised what the redhead was asking of you, which caused all sorts of emotions to run through your head.

She was asking you to to give a full example of how you'd dance within her club, within her line of work and show yourself. Normally this wouldn't be a bother as you'd come to a damn strip-club for god sake, but it was the idea of dancing alone with her that sent your nerves spiralling and your body shaking beneath you.

Still, there was no point in arguments, you'd been the one to suggest showing her, but in hopes of a more lively atmosphere. Instead Miss. Romanoff had lead you to a secluded room one of which held what you predicted secrets hiding within the 4 walls for you to dance in.

Sucking in a tight breath you closed your eyes tightly shut counting to 3 before opening them once more. Getting your bearings around you, you strutted to the pole making sure to remove the jacket that clung tightly to your skin hugging you in all the right places. The jacket was placed to the side of Natasha and you tried not to smirk too much at the feeling of her eyes travelling over your form.

Her body stood up, walking over to a speaker in the corner causing you body to tense up slightly. If it was too loud it was sure to cause an uproar of attention that in this current moment you didn't want. Your mind was too focused on earning the approval and the full attention of the redhead selfishly to yourself despite wishing that you didn't indulge in such sinful acts.

You removed your pants, leaving yourself in only your polo shirt and underwear, trying your best not to make any sort of contact with her. You could have done pole-dancing in your pants but it wasn't a risk worth taking if you didn't want any slip ups and needed the grip. Instead you walked over to the pole closing your eyes tightly before opening them and glancing over at Miss Romanoff.

Her head was tilted to the side and you were almost convinced her eyes that you noticed earlier were the shade of emerald green like the piercing ground of earth were almost charcoal now, luring you into the mist of hazing sinful creatures and touching the igniting flame. Instead of contemplating thoughts any longer you let out a mere nod towards the older woman and she smirked turning on a song that widened your eyes as, girls girls girls by FLETCHER began to echo through the room.

Trying to once again ignore the intriguing implications behind the song you stepped forward flexing your hand back and forth continuously before gripping onto the pole tightly with your left hand. Your fingers curled instinctively around the metal bar and you cleared your mind. One of the first things you'd learnt about dancing and when understanding how to use the effective ways of pole-dancing was don't think just act.

You let your mind carry through the music eliciting the illusions of thoughts and song's as your body carried you through. You started off smoothly, swinging your way seductively around the pole keeping your outside leg straight before pivoting your inside foot at the same time.

Your mind carried through song as the beat's began to pick up, your outside foot worked through muscle memory hooking around the pole before your other joined gripping tightly.

As soon as you felt your body securely fitted on the pole your hips moved in ways of wonder as though art itself couldn't touch through paintings of masterpieces. Your back arched and your hip swayed in beat swinging yourself around the pole before your body flipped itself in ways of wonder, dancing and spinning with everything it had.

The song slowly began to draw to a close and it was then your eyes chose to linger from being shut as you made your distinctive signature move, swinging yourself around with a grace you didn't know was within you. Your body swung from the top to the bottom of the pole in the most seductive way possible as your fingers crossed over, before your eyes drifted to the red head.

It took everything within you not to let out a shit-eating grin when you noticed the gawking from Miss Romanoff who looked like she was ready to eat you up whole. Given any other circumstances you would have flushed or felt self-conscious, but instead you embraced the feeling of confidence as you gently slithered off the pole a laugh almost sliding past your lips.

You sauntered over to the older woman, teasing leaning over her body to grab your jacket only to be yanked down onto the couch. You felt the blood run course through your body you heart pounding so loudly you'd not be surprised if she could hear it herself. The room came to a heated silence, the tension thick and easily cut with a knife. Natasha's hand came up to cup your jaw tilting it to the side almost as though she wanted to judge that part of you too, or better yet distract herself from what she was initially going to do.

"Tomorrow, 8:30pm your shift will begin. I recommend not arriving late, or better yet arrive earlier to prepare yourself. You work hours will differ but tomorrow you'll be finishing at 3:30am. Understand sweetheart?" Her voice husked out and you were almost putty in her hands once more.

Your head nodded unconsciously, the primal instinct in you roaring to obey your now boss's instructions. The feeling of disgust ran through your body at the realisation of what you'd just performed despite it being your job area now. It wasn't the fact you'd pole-danced it was the secluded room and the song that made your body squirm.

The redhead seemed to thrive in amusement on that power and you weren't sure whether the heat that ran to your core was feelings you wished you didn't have or anger that turned into the feeling of lust, perhaps both. Her hand tightened on your chip ever so slightly to the point you thought her nails may cause intends within your skin, marking like a hot poker within it.

"Oh no, none of that. You use words to me okay? So do you understand dorogaya?" her tone showed no time from you for disagreement.

"Yes, I understand Miss. Romanoff," your voice was strong and assertive despite inside your body was a mess of sweat and utter chaos.

Natasha leaned back, stretching her arms across the couch staring at you for a moment before taking her lip between her teeth, clamping down hard. The sight was enough to send a hot gush of wetness between your legs and your mind screamed at you in retaliation, she was your boss. Her teeth gently let her lips go with a pop before standing up and walking up to the door, swinging it open with ease staring back at you with an expected look.

"Good girl," she whispered out her lips tilting up dangerously as your fixed your tousled hair that had become slightly damaged from dancing.

Your body reacted once more to the words almost jolting in response, but you did well to keep yourself refrained and intact. Instead you simply grabbed your belongings nodding towards the woman and headed straight for the main exit. Perhaps the acts you were prepared to partake in was deemed as sinful and immoral, you wouldn't give so much as a glance if they were. It felt like the devil was standing their glaring into your soul and you didn't care for anything else other than entering the gates and feeling the flames wrap around your body.

The next evening went as smooth as it could, the blasting of the music as your body danced in between of time to the tunes. Your personal favourite was the one's that went sensual before picking pace as it allowed you to do your signature moved before flaunting around people in a seductive manner. You'd thrived on how the men and women gawked at your, eyes popping out of their heads, drooling from the mouth like you were a treat they had to have.

Fellow colleague's had taken up on asking advice, specifically your new favourite Wanda who you added on further inspection was quite a looker. The way she'd bounce her brunette curls around her face as she danced into the night like nobody was watching always had you admiring her.

She herself had wanted tips from you, always seemingly interested by your dancing to the way you move on a pole, her eyes always lingering in sheer awe and amazement as though you personally had placed each star drifting through the sky. Yet, you always felt another pair of eyes, heavy and dark lingering in the shadows.

It was the type of shadow you'd spent your whole life hiding within but this aspect was dangerous. It felt cold mixed with fire alike, bonding in ways it shouldn't mix. The soul being ice and chilled to the bone with fire in the centre waiting to burn itself from the ground up. You constantly sensed the lingering eyes on your body but chose to ignore it, for you knew the consequences of the danger, you knew who those eyes belonged to you just couldn't face them to admit it.

It continued for the next week until Saturday came faster than anticipated. Your legs carried you through the building with ease and a sense of calm now almost as though you'd been there for years. In reality you'd become rather content with the building of Desiring ignition. You'd scarcely interacted with Natasha though, (thank god.)

It wasn't the exact concept of fearing the woman, no it wasn't that. It was the way she made you feel. It was like feeling towards the devil, it's forbidden you see red with anger, lust the picture painted of danger and intoxicating aroma.

You'd done well in avoiding the older woman but she did appear to be making it easer than anticipated, despite knowing the one hiding in the shadows, lingering not wishing to be seen but knowing you felt her presence seemed to enough for the older woman.

You had settled on something different this time, usually not opting for dresses preferring to dress loose but certainly stylish all the same. However this time, you'd decided to rock the boat and you weren't sure why.

Instead you'd settled on a deep emerald green, darkened than usual but curved around your body clinging in all the right ways. The anticipation and adrenaline of the reactions you'd receive left your mind racing, despite not wanting to show anything off entirely. Definitely not for her..

Directing yourself towards the bar, you walked over greeting who you'd now become accustomed to know as Bucky. He actually was opposing to what you expected after your encounter on the first night, he was just hesitant of newcomers. Instead now you'd become close to the man always offering a term of greeting.

"Same as usual?" He questioned winking as you both knew it was wrong to drink on the job.

Albeit it was hardly your fault, when it came to this job and work environment you'd hardly be faulted for having the odd drink to get by. Most days we're enjoyable, the women ogling over you and many wanting to touch what their desired hearts couldn't reach, like seeing a pebble in the ocean before the sea carries it out, perfectly sculpted but not yours to own.

Your lips curved up into a smirk filled with fire and mischief, the look of mystery plastered all over your face. Not a word spoken, your head nodded into his direction and Bucky nodded once in return. His body moved swiftly, preparing a small yet rather what the average person would deem an intoxicating strong drink for yourself as he slid it over.

Taking your drink you sipped away at it as you made your way onto the floor, seemingly into the sea of people. It was busy & you only knew it was going to get busier. Besides; you had an hour to kill before even remotely starting your shift so you might as well busy yourself.

It started simple, sitting down mingling with guests, eyeing up who was necessarily your desire for the night. All you needed was the money, even with the weighing guilt that sometimes poured over your head you needed to make your way into the world.

God only knows how you'd found yourself onto the dance floor, one moment you were sipping on your drink waiting for the beginning of your shift the next you were dragged onto the dance floor by a taller and seemingly older brunette. Her hands were dragging across your waist causing your face to flush.

Were you sure you were entirely within protocols here? Not at all, yet there was no rules you couldn't dance with the paying guests before your own night began. Though you were indeed certain Miss. Romanoff may cause some issues with this.

Alcohol wasn't even the reason for your confidence, it felt like something was drawing you to push boundaries that night to tempt yourself into desired that you shouldn't cross. You could say you don't bring your guests into the bedsheets like you do your demons but as the brunette's hands grazed across your stomach for a moment you short circuited.

You found your head tilting an angle towards Bucky's direction who was eyeing you with a concerned expression painted upon his face. His frown that narrowed through his forehead, eyes giving a dangerous tone, almost trying to warn you.

Still, you shrugged it off instead allowing the touch of another burn your skin though whether it was a burn of desire or the burn of hell you weren't sure. You were playing with the fires of lucifer here & partially enjoying yourself. Lips grazed slightly over your neck, almost allowing you to loose yourself instantly without a sudden care or thought.

People were silencing around you within beats of the music, like a chill had passed down from a frost bite. They were parting like royalty had arrived themselves, but you were completely unaware in your own mindset in your own thoughts.

Lips grazed your neck sloppily, yet it burnt like an ignition hell fire in your skin. Yet your mind was dancing somewhere else or better yet, someone else. It was like someone snapped a finger, as within a second like you'd blinked an eye and the warmth from behind you disappeared.

Widening your eyes, you opened them but a hand snatched you spinning you straight into a body. You stumbled forward legs like jelly, hands still shaking with adrenaline as their perfume invaded your senses. It was a sexy perfume smell no doubt, the aroma making it's way into your nose poisoning you. You'd almost breathed in, wanting more of the intoxicating taste of it, yet that wouldn't be ve-

Shit. Shit, shit shit.

If your suspicions were correct, which you were highly convinced they were then the perfume and the person you'd been dragged into was someone you dreaded finding you in that compromising position. A whisper drew you from the dread in the pit of your stomach and your stressing mindset as they leaned towards you.

"Enjoying yourself darling?" The voice carried the familiar edge you dreaded.

The feeling of bile rose in your throat from sheer anxiety and you gulped hard to keep yourself at bay. Slowly looking up, your eyes met the all too familiar green ones.. One's you could get lost in and fantasise about consi-

No, not to be thought of right now.

Her eyebrows were arched consistently and the familiar look of a stern facial expression was painted on your Boss's, Miss. Romanoff's face. Her lips were painted a blood deep red and the blush on her cheeks were making your legs like jelly, let alone your stomach's feeling of somersaults.

"I..." Stuttering voices was all you could muster right now.

A swift finger placed on your lips was all it took for your cheeks to hear up and you were certainly an embarrassing jumble of mess in front of her and everyone around you.

"Shh," her voice carried an authoritative tone but you were almost certain you could sense a lace of.. jealousy?

Surely that was an impossibility; she had nothing to be jealous about besides she was your boss, albeit a damn sexy one. Reality hitting back to you slowly you sensed the tension in the room could be cut with a knife and wanted in that moment for the ground to swallow you whole.

Gone was that confident attitude you easily found yourself mustering up to her, instead replaced with a timid jealous woman wanting nothing more but to run for your life. Your eyes didn't dare leave hers despite their sea of pure intensity and fire, though you didn't think you were capable of looking away even if you tried to.

A quick flick of her hand could be seen from your peripheral vision and as if someone had press play on a remote, the crowds resumed. Colleagues danced on laps, poles and bar stools while the noise resumed like they'd been frozen in time.

Before you even had the chance to speak, you were spun back around rather forcefully. However rather than letting you go, her hands yanked you flush against her chest, allowing you to feel her radiant body heat and the heat to come back to your cheeks once more.

Hands roamed over your body while her lips moved to your ear, a sultry almost lustful voice following suite.

"Well well, what was that little stunt hm? Aren't you supposed to be getting ready for private shows not giving a full on public display of borderline sex," she snapped though her hands still cupped your hips.

"I.. I can explain..."

Her hands cupped your clothed cunt causing you to cut your sentence off and gasp out. Embarrassingly, your body jerked forward into her hand showing how putty you were, easily giving into your boss.

"No, no I don't think so. You wanted a public stunt like that hm? Who's breasts are these?"

Her hand moved up to cup them, needing them through your dress causing you to almost cry out. You couldn't lie, you were grateful for the atmosphere being so loud and disoriented otherwise you'd have cried out from sheer embarrassment.

"M-Mine," you whispered through a half gasp earning you to feel her knee rub you subtly once more in your lower region.

"Wrong answer, don't get it wrong again hm?" She said through semi-gritted teeth and your body melted back into her.

Unsure of the adrenaline you had coursing through your veins you spun around and found some form of confidence in you to cup her own lower region.

"Yours," you whisper-shouted back due to the strength of the music, though your voice partially wavered.

It was obvious she was caught off guard through the sheer surprise that danced like the force of nature the wind dancing with the trees on a stormy night. Miss.Romanoff's lips tilted upwards into a smirk and without a word or a warning her hand clasped onto yours and you were being pulled swiftly down corridors.

Everything seemed to pass you buy in a blur as you had no recollection of one door to the next, nor did you dare to look at any faces glancing and gawking your way. Simply you decided to be an obedient little thing and follow Miss. Romanoff towards wherever she was leading you.

Suddenly, you came to a halt in front of a locked door slowly coming to the realisation this was Miss.Romanoff's personal room; no one was ever allowed to enter. A surge of some sort of excitement flooded the course of your veins in some way as she led you through.

Locking it behind her she pointed to her own personal chaise lounge and you obediently followed her instructions like a lost puppy, almost falling over your own feet to get to it. A low chuckle left her lips sending chills upon chills down your spine and embarrassingly hitting your core (that was probably now soaked.)

"Miss Romanoff I don't know if this is-"

"Natasha," she cut you off instantly smirking at you.

You gawked at the older woman like she'd just spoken in a foreign language. However she brushed it off, slowly approaching you like an animal would it's prey. Lifting your chin up she grinned down at you like a cheshire cat before huskily speaking.

"Call me Natasha. Though I'd also prefer to be called a different name, can your pretty little brain think of what that is?" She asked lustfully.

Gulping you had a smart idea, but didn't want to ask a stupid question. So you kept your mouth shut but apparently Natasha had other idea's towards your 'misbehaviour.'

"Colour," her voice was softer for a moment only by a slight tone but you sensed it.

It almost made you crack for a moment and come to your senses. An employee couldn't- shouldn't sleep with their boss. Yet, as you believed earlier the devil was technically an angel first and you wanted to touch the fire, you wanted her to touch you. However, it was evidence you were taking too long as you'd received an arched eyebrow and she grabbed you firmly by the chin awaiting her answer.

"Green but.. this is wrong you're my.."

A gasp cut you off as she placed her lips instantly on your neck biting down hard before sucking. You felt Natasha's lips trail up and down biting an area she could, knowing instantly it was going to leave a mark. Moans elicited past your lips as you found your head slowly adjusting to give more access.

She sucked and nipped at your skin like her life depended on it, it was intoxicating. She was starting a fire within you no one else could ever ignite. Natasha kissed her way back up to your face before whispering sultry into your earlobe.

"Now you want to keep your job don't you, you want to be a good girl for me?"

"Y-Yes I do Natasha," you went to move your hands in her hair when you felt something restrict you.

A deep blood red-handcuffs the same shade as her hair was holding you back and your eyes widened in realisation. The demon's in your head were fighting with each other as you felt her clamber her way into your lap.

"Now.. you're going to behave for mommy aren't you?"

She grinned at you arching an eyebrow while her plump red lips glistened under the dim lights. You couldn't bring yourself to respond to Natasha, you felt your stomach twisting in knots at the word and your brain go fuzzy.

Restriction on your neck caused your airways to tighten slightly, not too much but the pressure sent a heat to your core you didn't know could happen. She frowned at you sternly, a small crease of annoyance in between her forehead that you found dangerously hot and cute at once.

"Don't make ask twice detka, you should know in the time you've worked for me I hate repeating myself. Now be a good slut and respond."

Not wanting to face the consequences of hell knows what she'd do you nodded instantly a feeling of nervousness that was fuelled by desire and lust rising within you.

"Yes mommy, I'll behave. I promise!"

Your response pleased her, yet your brain didn't have much time to respond as a loud groan escaped your lips. The buzzing sensation pressed against your panties sent you spiralling into oblivion. Natasha captured your lips with her own, red lipstick smearing your own with a kiss, sealing your fate. Signing your soul to the devil seemed like a fate that could send anyone into a panic, but when it was Natasha Romanoff, it was pure bliss.

"Your moans are a delight to my ear sweet girl," her whispers against your lips only spurred you on further.

You found your hips grinding down against the toy your bottom lip become broken and bruised from how hard you were biting it. A small slap to the thigh sent you jolting as you looked up to see Natasha's stern look.

"You move when I tell you to move slut," she slurred out high on lust and desire and you felt a spiral of wetness shoot down to your glistening pussy that was most definitely dripping with desire.

You felt the pressure of the toy increase levels and it took you everything not to cry out in absolute ecstasy but the overwhelming stimulation, it was so intense your toes could curl.

"You're already coming undone are you for your mommy?" Natasha bit down slightly on your ear lobe her fingers trailing up to your throat once more as she whispers into your ear.

"When you lay down on the chaise lounge you'll be screaming my name tonight darling. Yet, did you honestly think that you could get away with that game Y/N?" Her voice dragged down your body as quickly as possible.

Teeth sunk into your skin, nipping sucking and licking into the depths of every single area Natasha could reach. You hands tried to fling over your mouth to muffle your moans, yet your restraining handcuffs brought you back to reality.

"They'll hear Na- Mommy," Your slip-up didn't go unnoticed as a slap to your thigh and a hard bite on your chest caused a cry out from your lips.

"Let them hear you. You wanted a show, I have every intention of giving you one."

Before your thoughts could catch up to your lips a rip echoed through the room as a strength had come from the redhead herself. Gasping as she put some pressure on your clit the intense feeling driving your body into an overwhelming feeling.

As her fingers pressed against your puffy lips you knew instantly you were getting addicted to the feeling; the ignition pushing you towards Natasha's capture. She was easily trying to capture her pray within you and you'd stupidly let her.

"Please.. I need more," You pleaded your brain foggy with lust and utter craving for Natasha in every way possible.

With a single flick of a switch you felt her turn the toy to maximum levels before her fingers were swiftly replaced with a lapping tongue. The cuffs that felt like chains kept to a wall yanked down as you tried to touch.

She spat on your clit and you felt the shit eating grin pass her lips as Natasha heard the familiar sound of tugging from them. Instead she tutted and her eyes grazed up connecting with your own, purposely dragging her tongue up your slit making you cry out from the intensity.

"You're a good girl aren't you hm? Taking your boss so well. Imagine if I got to do a public show with you.. God the way the crowds would go wild as I fucked you over and over again," Natasha lulled against your pussy.

The images dancing through your brain was sinful, absolutely disgusting to others but for some reason like you were trapped in a cage of sex you didn't care. Magic was a dangerous power and a dangerous curse yet she wheeled it all within this room, your body and your mind, your essence and soul.

As she shoved her tongue into your entrance another cry of intense joy, you weren't sure lust most definitely past your lips. Her free hand moved up to your breasts massaging the buds between her tips, sending you without permission releasing your juices all over her tongue.

Ms. Romanoff pulled back and the look on her face was not one of an impressed look, though that didn't stop her tongue swirling around her mouth getting the remaining taste left. That action alone sent another wave to your core despite the overwhelming feeling and you felt your legs like jelly simply from one round.

"Did I say you could cum?" Her voice was stern, boomed against the contrasting atmosphere of what the stench danced with sex, and sweat, desire and fire.

"I.. I didn't me-"

"Did. I. Say. You. Could. Cum?" She repeated her voice was filled with such an authoritative tone sending your mind back to your original meeting.

Had it not been for the handcuffs and the familiar stern look and not wanting any more disapproval from Natasha, you'd have coward away from embarrassment. Instead you shook your head wondering what on earth you'd gotten yourself into it wasn't like you were bound together but.. part of you lived from the excitement; she was a devil, demon of angel and hell with the need to feel her touch.

"No.. No Miss.Romanoff, you did not." Your voice rasped out exhausted from screaming already.

She stood up no word uttered and she disappeared around the back, leaving you to your thoughts for a moment. It felt like you were fucking with the goddess herself, but was it sanity? Was it safe to be sharing sheets and secrets behind closed doors? Possibly not, but her blood-red lips and curves of her body made it impossible not to fall into. A trap of love or lust, it wasn't even known to you within that sight, just the devil herself you'd taste it every-time.

A song brought you from your dancing curious thoughts, one that sent your body ice-cold and your eyes widening instantly. A song called 'Pray' You'd become one to recognise. It was a favourite with your regulars at the club. Except you hadn't quite realised Natasha herself had noticed, but you'd been proven quite wrong.

On the contrary, Natasha walked in with a thick deep red strap-on, one that was already wet ether with her spit or something else it was unknown. But, she knew and had seen it caused a rage in her she hated herself for. Yet, she had to have her way with you.

"Sit back," she ordered pleased instantly you'd complied with no sudden refusals or hesitation.

Without a warning she flung one leg over your body joined by the other leg, until she was sat in your lap straddling you. Instantly, a gut feeling surged through your veins flying through every pulse point sending a fire and ice in one through your very skin. Your suspicions were confirmed when she slowly started to move her hips on you with the strap on.

A lap-dance. A lap dance by Natasha Romanoff, your boss the fucking owner of Desiring ignition. Better yet it was with a strap on.

Her hips moved in a motion not even the most poisonous temptations of the world could, but Natasha out-beat them all. Her hands moved down her body over her hips and you watched in amazement as she began to thrust onto your leg while dancing like a majestic queen. Her moans spilled past her throat, giving you everything you desired sipping her up.

Your hands begged to move and your pussy pulsated allowing some juices to spill out. Your eye's pleaded with her to undo the cuffs but all you'd received in return, was a tut and a small pressure to your throat.

"You can touch soon detka. I'd like to have my fun now. Do you know how long I've waited to have my way with you?" She whispered her hips shaking and thrusting to the beat of the music.

"N-No," you answered honestly to mesmerised by her movements to figure out an answer.

"Since you first walked into that door. I needed you away so I didn't tempt myself with the cup of sinfulness, one that I shouldn't lead by. Yet, when I saw you dance.. Oh my sweet little slut. You were perfect. I needed to ruin all of you," she husked out shaking her strap slightly.

You almost came right from the scene in front of you, gaining your own kind of friction from her strap. However while the music beat sped up one lyric spurred her over the edge and caused her to break the chains of control, fly up from hell and take her prize.

'When she lays down to pray at night.. She'll be screaming my name.'

Something about that song lyric sent Natasha spurring forward and her hips bucked against your lap causing her to cry out in ecstasy. Her hands reached up undoing the cuffs breaking the barrier as your hands finally touched her hips, her olive silky skin feeling beautiful under your finger tips.

Her fingers suddenly managed to make their way underneath her body with a precision that seemed impossible to you and slammed themselves into your now over-stimulated pussy. You cried out in part-pain and mainly bliss the coil in your stomach building up.

She worked you like wonders themselves couldn't work the song blaring in the background. Natasha still continued to give you a lap-dance of sorts but mainly focused on getting the two of you off and fingered you hard and fast, her hips meeting some sort of thrust.

"Scream my name," left her lips and that's all it took.

The coil in your stomach snapped and you came once more all over her fingers, legs shaking and your eyes pooled with tears of joy from how incredible it felt. Natasha followed suite from the sight and the friction cumming all down her strap and some spilling onto your lap causing yourself to groan.

However, she had an ungodly amount of adrenaline pounding through her system as she clambered of your body leaning over your lips and throat demanding one thing of you.

"Suck."

Her voice was raspy sending a pool of wetness shooting down once more and you felt yourself let out some dripping juices by accident. You instantly took the strap on gagging on it as she shoved it deeply in your throat. Looking down, the sight was enough for Natasha to cum right there and then but she held it.

She wanted you to gag on her strap, shut your pretty little mouth up as she took in the sight of what was hers. Her sinful prize, her desired need was sucking her cock so well it was a bliss to see. Hearing you gag she rubbed your pussy once again causing you to cry out the stimulation being too much, yet Natasha ignored you.

She ignored you until your hips jerked up once more being greedy and desperate for her fingers or strap-on and she smirked in sheer delight. She'd made you putty in her hands. You didn't care anymore the manipulation of her job had worked wonders in your mind making it hazed with fuel of her touch and knowing only she could make you like this.

Clambering down, no warning was given as her cock suddenly found your puffy and over-stimulated entrance and her eyes drifted down. Natasha groaned at the sight, how ruined and how messy you were, wetness seeping down your thighs.

Not wanting to waist another minute, her cock slammed into you thrusting hard not giving you any time to adjust. Her lips moved fast and at a ferocious pace causing animalistic like grunts to leave your lips. Your mind danced with her and only her, it was like she'd made her mark engraved her and only her within it and you'd take it all, drink all of her and whatever she'd give you.

Sloppy slapping sounds hit the four walls of the room and her lips slammed into yours as she bit on your bottom lip. Your now free hands, moved into her hair tugging lightly causing a growl fit from an animal that could kill within seconds. Natasha kissed harder, hips slamming down without a single care and you felt yourself becoming close.

"Please.."

She grinned against your lips and you knew what was going to happen then and there. Your boss had won the game of the life time, her prize possession and puppet.

"Cum on mommy's cock like a good little stripper hmm? Let me take all of you," she husked out giving a particular hard thrust.

With that your juices hit her strap-on hard, flowing out of you like a river itself your mouth screaming her name while your body shivered. Hands clawing at her back now the sight was enough to send her spiralling, leaving you just enough time to recover to see the sight.

Her back arched, releasing her own as she had her eyes closed lips partially opened and skin slick with sweat and cum mixed from both of your spots.

Your eyes shut themselves sheer exhaustion taking in and all that could be heard was panting breaths in the room. It was as she leaned down you'd known how badly caught in the trap of lust you were with your own boss, her whispers filling the room.

"I've caught my own trap now, the devil got her prize. And I am far from finished with you yet, mommy's little stripper slut."

≿━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━≾

[dilftaroooo]

Being perverted strikes naturally within Gojo, so when the idea of being a step brother comes to mind during sex he can’t help but act upon the roleplay. You think he’s gross for it, but his questionable passion for it keeps you engaged (oddly enough).

☆word count: 6.3k+

★tags/tw(18+): dark content + stepc*st roleplay + foot f*tish + toe sucking (f!recieving) + dubcon (because reader is unsure at first) + reader is college-aged/gojo is 28 + squirting + age gap + vanilla sex + pubic hairs + scent kink + implied ass eating + hesitancy + reader is afab using she/her pronouns + mentioned latex kink + use of 'satoru-nii' + established relationship + gojo is a lil' mean + and sassy + lots of kissing + nipple play + creampie + getting caught having s*x + exploring kinks + praise kink + pet names + skull fucking + gag reflex + snot + we're talkin' 'big beefy whore with black compression shirt' gojo here + reader is a bit inexperienced + questions of certain kinks.

☆a/n: hey alexa, play 'poundtown by sexyy red' ayyye come suck a bitch's toooes. enjoy y'all, this shit nasty af.

You’re not a kink shamer.

You understand the sexual thrills of getting off to something that turns one on to the point of fulfilled ecstasy–weighted breaths and skin coated with a sheen of sweat from the unorthodox fantasies that provoke the human mind and manipulate the human body, keeping them bound to the shackles of pleasure as their perversion engulfs them whole. It feels beautiful–ethereal, dare you say, and you get that. Who wouldn’t want to feel blissfully satisfied just by mere thought alone? 

Now, exclusive of the deranged fetishes involving children, scat, or whatever fucked up shit out there that's befitting for a lowlife, you would say that you're a pretty open-minded individual. Always tolerating the naughty anecdotes told by your friends’ concerning their past hookups, distinctively remembering the giggles you all shared when reciting one of the stories from a particular friend that had them clad in a latex suit, lips decorated with ruby red, and three-inched heels coming into contact with the cheek of their previous partner as they squirmed in shameless arousal.

‘It was pathetic to see, but I’d be a liar if I said it didn’t get me going…’ And that mutuality between both parties is what makes it even more fun. They both get a kick out of something they enjoyed, so what’s to hate about it?

You’re not a kink shamer–not at all.

You and your boyfriend of a year and four months, Satoru Gojo, always carried the qualities of a couple depicted in unrealistic romance movies: the nuzzle of the nose that tickled your cheek before delving in for a peck, the surprise hugs he’d startle you with as you prepared an early morning breakfast, as well as the intertwined fingers while you both make your way to his favorite bakery (his kisses are even more sugared after scarfing down the kikufuku he’d order no more than a minute ago).

You always felt like the princess to his prince, stumbling over your gown to keep up with his hurried footsteps as you both venture through the gracious evergreen of a mythical forest. You have no time to remove the pastel violet and pink petals slotting themselves in your locks since your hand remains occupied with Satoru’s, moving exquisitely to the melodic song of the nightingales. It was a dream from a childhood storybook.

Moreover, what was revealed in public was, undoubtedly, the same in the comfort of your bedroom, living at your university’s on-campus apartment that you shared with two indifferent roommates. He would frequently stop by after work to spoil you with his affection. Always asking how your day was and whether or not you finished your assignments.

He was a tad bit older than you–twenty-eight and going, but you didn’t mind the age gap, it gives you all the more reason to tease him for his ‘old’ age, to which he responds with a pout and furrowed eyebrows, ‘Oh, how mean! Who would’ve ever thought that my darling angel could be such a devil…?!’ He’d say with faux anguish. He knows you’re only playing around–such the jokester.

Though, he couldn’t say the same for you in bed. Protected by the warmth of your sheets, you relished at how accustomed your body and soul were to his heartfelt transactions, vanilla-flavored sex, so sweet and tasteful on your tongue as he kissed you with want. Tongues twirling a sensual dance as your lips combine in rhythmic harmony. You also loved it when he coos in your ear, reminding you of how you’re so good to him before wrapping his lips around puffy areolas in a way that makes you writhe.

He’s so gentle with you. Handling a fine china cabinet with the utmost care, he makes sure he touches you in ways that wouldn’t break your fragile body. And when your nude skin presses against his as a result of his thrusts to your core, he reminds himself to get you moaning in his ear and get your hands gripping against the muscular curvature of his back.

It feels good. It always feels good. So, why does a part of you feel…bored?

The love is there, you won’t question that. When you come, you feel as though you’re one with the stars. And above all, he praises you. It’s nothing new, but in this context, you like to be his ‘pretty girl’ whenever the tip of his nose pushes against your wet clit. So, why do you feel like something is missing? You don’t know.

You haven’t been in many relationships. The last one you remember was in high school, dating a boy who only loved you out of teenage fever, and you shamefully admit that you reciprocated his confession. You were both young and unknowing of what the aspects of ‘love’ really meant. You never went past the boundary of hand-holding and cheek-kissing, so it remained stagnant until the moment you both broke up.

None of it was mutual, however. You can recall how distraught you were as you bawled in your mother’s arms, asking her what you did wrong while she soothed you with maternal pets to the crown of your head. That being said, it’s safe to say that you really don’t know what’s missing from you and your boyfriend’s intercourse–like, really.

But, thankfully, Satoru makes up for what you lack, telling you not to fret since he knows a lot and letting you know how much he’s been wanting to get to this point of intimacy with you–wanting to whisk his girlfriend away from the comfort zone that you’ve grown so attached to.

Satoru is without exception, enthusiastic to portray more during times of intercourse, yearning to teach you more than just the fluffy, domestic sex you both indulge in. It’s lovely and all, bleh bleh, whatever, Satoru gets it, but, man, what he wouldn’t do to see you on your knees, between his sinewy thighs parted for your form as he hovers above you, your head tilted upwards to take in his thick shaft through wet lips.

He’d make sure his red, throbbing tip hits the back of your throat so he can hear that sickening gag scurry out your mouth paired with the sloppy froth of your saliva slapping against his heavy balls with each quick thrust. He’d be too occupied to find the snot dribbling from your nose revolting because you’d be taking him in so deep.

That’s forever been his little fantasy–that amongst the vast amount of others. And to try each and every one of them with you would be a delight.

After you confessed to Satoru, you couldn’t help but notice how peculiar his ministrations started to get. It was gradual–starting with spanks on your ass to eating said ass. You’ll even bring up the time he used your feet to get off. It caught you off guard, you’d admit.

That day he had you pliable–on your knees with the left apple of your cheek flushed in the pillow beneath you and arms resting idly on your sides as you allowed your enthralled boyfriend to take the lead.

You assumed he was just gonna spit on your already-soaked pussy before massaging your puffy clit in the teasing, clockwise motions he likes to test you with, cock oozing with leakage before languidly gliding upwards to push in-between your cunt lips, but what you didn’t assume he’d do was trace his slimy precum against the soft skin of your toes to then rub his tip across your soles.

You tried to retract your feet away from him (toes wiggling in the process which had them accidentally graze across his balls. You could’ve sworn you heard him hiss) and protest his weird behavior but Satoru was already three steps ahead, firmly gripping both feet and nearly squishing them together if it wasn’t for the thick base of his cock preventing them from touching.

Each thrust he made ached with raw fervor and fuck him from being incapable of suppressing his passion because he couldn’t help but look down and see your cute pussy pucker and asshole twitch. What a sight for sore, cerulean eyes. Just as sore as your ass after he slapped it with an ever-so-firm hand, silently thanking his calluses for the rough impact.

He found it adorable how your shimmering entrance craved for insertion, winking rhythmically at him as though it’s saying, ‘Please fill me up, ‘toru! ‘M so lonely without you…’ (he chuckles to himself at the personification when done in a high-pitched tone).

But your pussy always gets his attention. You have another hole too, ya’ know–one that sits right above it, unused and virginal. Just imagine his excitement as he leans forward, cock still buried at the innermost part of your feet, to take a closer look. He’d smile at your coyness when you felt his hot breath blow on your skin, unsure of his next move.

In this new position, he can trace the faint smell of sweat emerging from you, and God, does that turn him on. More than it already does. So of course he had to steal a taste, trailing a fat strip of saliva against the rim, you squeal at the warm and wet feel of his tongue touching a place it had never been before,

“S-Satoru…what the fuck!” You jolted before moving from your position, migrating to any spot as long as it's far from your lover. You’ll never forget the sleazy look on Satoru’s face as both corners of his rosy lips tilt upwards for a cocky grin–yuck.

It grossed you the fuck out.

Not in a way that antagonizes your boyfriend, you love him too dearly to feel as such, but in a way that questions his morals. Why on earth would someone like Satoru want to be minimized to using the bottom of your soles for pleasure or savor the briny taste of sweat that builds up around the tight ring of your ass? I-I mean, you excrete from there, for God’s sake! That’s gross, especially in a place where the sun doesn’t shine.

You understand that he likes doing it, but why? How could something so perverse and dirty get him hard so quickly? Where’s his shame? His humiliation? His guilt? Were they not present whenever he sneaks a lick at your toes?

Perhaps you are trying to understand–who wouldn’t want to indulge in their lover’s feet, to caress the tough surface of their heels, and lead up their toes, to draw soft lines against them with plush lips as their medium before dipping them inside the wet cavern of their mouth and sucking the small digits before swirling their tongue and–ugh!–no! No, no, no, that’s sick! How can one do such a thing with ease? You can’t possibly imagine that.

But you’re not a kink shamer…right?

Your question remains unanswered, though, as you’re interrupted by Satoru’s moistened kisses trailing down the curve of your neck. You must’ve been in your daze for quite some time considering that the camisole top and loose shorts you lounge in took their positions on your bedroom floor. 

“Come back to me, baby.” You hear your boyfriend murmur and you deliberately oblige by running your digits through the white sea of his mane, wild and free as your fingers feather against his roots. He hums with love before leaving a kiss that's sloppier than the previous one. It starts with your usual routine, with soft and tenderhearted sex.

He pecks at your clavicle and you whimper in return as silvery lashes tickle the most sensitive areas of your skin. The passionate atmosphere continues to flow within the four walls of your room–containing your moans and your kisses and your touches, reverberating them in your heated figures while filling you both with distinct pleasure. It was good so far.

“Have any ideas in mind for tonight, sweetheart?” His voice is muffled as he joyfully sucks at the skin between the valley of your breasts, teeth clasping over the hot flesh to induce a mark darker than what your skin tone provides. You hold onto the fabric of his black shirt, soundlessly wondering why he is still garbed in unbreathable polyester while you remain bare save from your panties.

Lolling your head to the side in thought, you dwell on his question. Should you have something in mind? This isn’t the same as getting asked where to eat for dinner, per se. And owning to your inexperience with sex and fetishes, you’re incapable of bringing anything to the table in this sense.

You open your jaw, mouth filled with saliva due to the raunchy actions performed by your boyfriend onto your supple body, ready to speak your retort as you lick your chapped lips in preparation, but, Satoru knows you better than you know yourself.

“Yeah, I know you don’t,” It’s like he was born to study you. Your eyes travel to his person again, orbs resting upon Satoru’s scalp as you wait for him to finish. “Nothing in that gorgeous head of yours. It’s okay, though. I don’t blame you. I know an amateur like you wouldn’t have anything planned.” 

As might be expected, your brow raises at his comments slightly glazed with a patronizing drip, it’s gotten your attention, all right, as you turn your head to glare down at him. He’s sucking on your nipples this time and you forge a jerk but don’t falter, perked up by this newfound attitude from your loving partner.

“Oh?” You start and it carries the same uppity weight as his tone. “And I suppose you have it all figured out?”

He nods right after gazing up at you with arctic globes saturated with a heavy rush of sincerity and you can already feel the dreamy sigh materializing in your throat but never emerging. Satoru immediately sniffed out the indignance behind your words like a trained bloodhound. He rises from his spot upon your heaving chest to travel his way to the swoll of your chin, apologizing with a quaint kiss. 

“I do,” His smile is affectionate. “You know I always do, sunshine.” You gasp once something hard nudges against your squishy thighs before poking the outermost part of your panties.

“-Always think of something for that little cunt.” It isn’t long before it's cast to the side for clear access to your glimmering slit, doused in slick because your boyfriend had a remarkable way of handling you. He didn’t miss the embarrassed mewl of his name when he used filthy words.

He also didn’t miss the pull of air you took in as his thick finger swept up your bodily remnants, coating the fingertips of his middle and ring finger. You voluntarily buck your feeble hips in desire for him to push through your entrance but you know he wasn’t going to give it to you that easily. “You know, it gets me going when we do stuff like this when others aren’t around–when we do something so forbidden.” 

What–?

“Forbidden…?” Each syllable muddles your tongue as you ponder on its meaning: something that typically isn’t allowed or accepted–you’re not unaware, it’s a simple word, but is that the word he meant to say? “Why would it be forbidden? You’re my boyfriend, are you not?” Unless there’s something you’re unknowing of.

Perhaps he has a wife that he kept hidden in the shadows of his past. What if one wife turned into several wives? Maybe he’s a bloodthirsty murderer, ready to indulge in his next killing after getting you to trust his charming blue eyes and pink-liped smile. You don’t exactly know what the forbidden aspect of it all that he’s keeping from telling you-

You hear him ‘tsk’ and you assume it was meant to be taken seriously but it seems covered in mockery.

“Hah, Boyfriend? Have you no shame?” And he chuckles deep and grimy. “Don’t act like don’t know, dear.” You honestly don’t. “What would our parents think if they saw you, my sweet, little sister, grinding her greedy pussy against her older brother’s fingers?”

Oh.

Oh God.

Gritting your teeth for an evident cringe, you hurriedly toss your head to the side to break eye contact (how did he even manage to hold it for that long despite what he just said?!). There’s no way he’s doing this. Out of all kinks…

“For the love- Satoru. Stop, that’s fucking-” A sharp whine halts your sentence, stressed to the point of exaggeration. You don’t bother looking back up at him, already imagining his brows creasing with complaint at your disgusted remark.

“Ehh, what happened to ‘Satoru-nii’?” You almost would’ve forgotten the fingers sketching light circles on your sensitive button, going in for a pinch before tapping it aimlessly due to its slippery surface.

You clench your thighs together but Satoru’s heaping form prevents you from doing so. He’s a big mass of muscle reminiscent of a bull–broad shoulders along with thickened veins peeking through tough skin in the forms of streams, carrying the pulsing blood flow of adrenaline and transporting through each significant section of the body to energize his raging carnality.

“Are my fingers dwindling your vocabulary already? I just started using this pussy, sugar plum.”

A part of you wanted to believe he was joking–trolling like he usually does on literally every occasion. He knows how acquiescent you were in situations like these. So easily obedient to follow his golden rule when clinging to his hip, taking full advantage of your attributes to get you to do the perverted shit that spoiled his brain to corruption.

Of course, there’d be times when you’d retaliate, shouting out a brief ‘no’ before leaving the conversation unfinished, but it’s okay because he can butter you up to your good side. Use his words and his hands to do the convincing. Satoru has attributes of his own too.

But gazing into his eyes and seeing how aquatic blue dissolves into crimson red, only driven by lust, tells you he’s serious.

You look off to the side once more because staring at your nightstand is more soothing than staring at your deviant boyfriend. Out of all kinks, why this one?

“I don’t,” You close your eyes in an attempt to rid yourself free from his piercing glare. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You weren’t about to do this. You weren’t about to play into his wicked fantasies of being a relative of any sort. That doesn’t sound appealing at all.

“Don’t be like that, babe.” He mutters softly as if other people were in the room, prying with open ears to catch whatever dialogue is being transmitted between the two of you. A fingertip taunts at your sloppy entrance, just barely shoving past its tight grip. Sexual anticipation surged through your core at his ministration (his giggles at your hopelessness didn’t help you any). “You won’t know unless you try. Come on, do it for me?”

He’s too cute to refuse when your peripherals pick up his bottom lip raising upwards for a pout and feather-like lashes fluttering over glossy, blue orbs. Practically, begging you to follow through with this look alone–if only he wasn’t so handsome and used his charm against you in every way possible. God damn it-

“You’re sick, you know that?”

“Then you’re my antidote.”

You exhale in defeat since you unfortunately realize there’s no way out of this. Satoru’s too adamant to get you to play along with him, it’s insane. Turning your head to fully face him, which feels like the one-millionth time you’ve done so, you look him in the eye before aiming at the button of his nose, upturned and perky. Mentally getting ready to produce the God-forsaken words you are about to utter.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” You start and the way Satoru’s face lights up like a kid on Christmas irks you. 

You still feel mortification swirl in your skull like second nature. Your cheeks feel hot and it hurts–were you really about to do this?

Satoru was still teasing you to no end. Teasing that doubtlessly wet pussy with expertise. He was killing you by not giving you what you craved, only remaining on the surface as he waited for your verdict. Just one more push, one more shove and you’ll get there.

“And why is that?” He inquires.

Your bottom lip quivers with hesitation before an erotic groan escapes you. He’s so close to putting them inside. “Because you’re-” You pause to wait for a sliver of courage to finish your sentence. You’re not sure if you can-

“...I’m?” He continues.

You both catch on to the shaky breaths you’re letting out, two separate bodies feeling two separate emotions, one agitated and the other electrified.

“You’re my,” You tense but Satoru loosens. “-my b-brother.” He’s the Cheshire cat as of now. You wail once two fingers invade your thirsty hole, entering with a mushy squelch.

“And what is it that we’re doing, huh? What is it that we’re doing that would be so revolting to the public eye, hm? Tell me.” Can he stop pushing you already, for crying out loud?

“You fingering my, my,”

“You got it, keep going.”

“...fingering my p-pussy.”

Satoru cherishes your hesitance and rewards you, his obedient puppy. 

Digits curl upwards in search of that sensitive g-spot resting amongst your gushy insides. If applied enough pleasure, he’d be able to see how your back arches off your cotton sheets. Your mouth opens for a silent scream as the force of his fingers supports the buildup of liquid passion, pounding the area in addition to his palm rubbing your stiff clit the deeper he goes.

“There you go, my sweet girl, my gorgeous, little sister.” He fingers you harder and sucks at your erect nipples–when did they get so hard? As a matter of fact, when did your body feel so hot and needy? As though you’re deprived of something. 

Your boyfriend sucks at your tit before biting the small nub, grazing his teeth along sensitive skin for a chomp, causing your hands to fly to his head and grip the fur of his undercut, all while wincing in pain. He retracts his head with your nipple still in his mouth, giving it a stern tug like an elastic rubber band. You would have cursed him out if it wasn’t for the fingers still beating at your nether regions.

“Ah, S-Satoru!” He bites harder and you remember his request from earlier. “Satoru-nii.”

As if you hear a winner's buzzer, he hums in approval and releases before gorging his lips around the other one, gently guzzling it this time, skillfully whirling his wet appendage around the nub in combination with hungry sucks. He unloosens with an obnoxious, wet pop!

“M’so glad your mom married my dad. If it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t be able to take care of my little sister’s pussy like how I’m doing now. Wouldn’t that be so sad?!” He inquires gleefully. “I’d be so miserable–jerking myself off to meaningless porn when I could be stuffing my big dick deep inside your aching cunt. Hearing you moan out how much you love your older brother for making you squirt your sticky juices all over me. You even got your hairs trimmed in the way you know I love.”

The sound of fabric grinding against fabric fills your ears as he maneuvers his head to reach down to your pelvis, stuffing his nose on top of the shortened pubes, his mouth hangs dangerously over your clitoris.

He takes in a deep breath like he’s smelling the fresh air of healthy trees and freshly cut grass, basking in your heady scent while feeling his cock go rigid in the plush of your mattress. 

Too aroused to feel embarrassed, you buck your hips so you can finally get his mouth on your itching button and he finally compels, switching between sucking in your clitoral hood and tonguing your labia. Satoru moves his fingers faster in hopes of provoking your climax. He knows your proximity by noting the way your thighs tremble and toes spread across your sheets.

You finally get to the stage you’ve been craving since the beginning of this session. Releasing your fluids onto your awaiting boyfriend, the grip at the nape of his neck more powerful than before, you squeal a brief ‘Satoru-nii!’ as he proceeds to lap at your overstimulated pussy. He’s now sparkling with your juices. Satoru sits up on his knees after wrapping his buff arm around the width of your shoulders to hoist you up and get you closer to his thighs, your figure remains seated as you process what he wants you to do–he wants you to suck him off.

So you lean your sweat-stained face over his clothed member and unwrap it like a Christmas present you’d save for last because it's so big. His cock springs up rudely and smacks at his now naked abdomen (when did he take off his shirt?) with a loud clap. His abs are so detailed and his pecks puff out in pride while he looks down on you, like his little servant.

He controls the length of his cock with a stern hand and traces ivory white lipstick over the plump of your mouth, a hazy web of precum connecting to your upper lip.

“Wrap those beautiful lips over my cock, darling angel. You know it makes me happy to see you stuffed full with my dick, no matter the hole.” He cheeses when he hears a quick scoff come out of you.

You listen anyhow, swallowing the tip of your big brother’s rod, hallowing your cheeks like a skeleton to circling your tongue around its rosy circumference. You feel your remaining cum dribble onto your bed when you hear him make a guttural moan from above. Clenching his ass cheeks as fingers place themselves on top of your head like an armrest, laying idly as of now.

“Oh shit, baby, yeah, just like that. Keep sucking me off juuust like that.” He bucks his hips impatiently once you decide to devour him up to the mid-base, continuing the actions of sucking in your cheeks to tighten around his cock. “Fuck!” He mewls before chuckling humorlessly.

He stares down and you look up. Your eyelids roll back til they’re just below your brow ridge to catch sight of azure undertones. You were just about to wonder why he was tittering until pressure made its way to both sides of your head. When his pearly white smirk twinkled under dim lighting, that's when you knew-

“Hmphh,” The noise was pitiful when subdued by the heavy weight of Satoru’s cock.

“Hold still, pretty girl.” He coos before pushing his hips back and applying the same manner to your head as he controlled you effortlessly and then thrusting forward and forcing your head to do the same. His balls slap on impact with your chin when he buries himself deep into the hot cavern of your throat, you have your nostrils planted on the silvery wisps of his pubes, reeking of potent masculinity. He leaves you in that position, powerless as he ignores the smacks to his meaty thighs.

“Hold it,” He warns. His voice is pitched below the Earth’s surface. “Gotta teach you how to please big bro properly.” You fight hard as his tip keeps irritating the thing that hangs at the back of your throat, trying to oppose your body from naturally activating your gag reflex but it ends up being fruitless. Your throat convulses as it bulges with his cock print and you cough out an ugly sound. Your vision blurs once you feel your eyes start to water up. You want him to move back already!

“Good.” It’s like he heard your thoughts because he finally retracts from his perfect spot lodged in your gullet. His swollen tip tickles the surface of your lips as you gasp several breaths of air. Just what was he thinking? You could’ve puked!

“What the hell was- mmph!” Halted by another intrusion of his cock burying itself in the pits of your throat, you muffle out a sound of surprise. You couldn’t believe it.

Satoru starts, “Less talking from you, sunshine. I wanna hear you slobber on my dick. Think you can do that for me?” He quickens up the pace of his thrust, going at the speed of someone walking. You gag disgustingly at each thrust and you can feel snot starting to leisurely slip from your nose (just what he wanted to see).

“That’s a messy girl, my messy sister. Got you, hah, so worked up you even got snot dripping from your nose and your spit running down my balls. Oh, you don’t know how much I longed for this.” He resumes his praises and tips back his head for a howl, feeling himself approaching his end as he hears you glurg, glurg, glurg on his veiny member.

“Oh shit, shiiit…!” Suddenly, you’re abruptly pushed off of him, freeing your esophagus from the restraint. Your back lands on the bed with a thud, your landing protected by your doughy comforter. Satoru stands motionless as he recovers from edging himself to oblivion. Biting his lip, his cock twitches up and down before it gradually remains unmoving.

You don’t even remember it happening, but you’re already restricted underneath Satoru’s panting body, thighs folded backward for a mating press, squeezing your squishy tits together, and feet perched on top of his shoulders. He takes his infamous spot between your legs, his overworked hands, decorated in calluses and scars, cuff around the underside of your knees.

He gifts you a heated kiss on your lips. “‘Toru-nii-” You say while struggling to keep up with his tongue. He breaks away from you and the string of saliva snaps into two.

“I hear you, baby, want me inside you already, I know, hear you loud ‘n’ clear.” His tip finds your entrance and it's sopping wet tenfold. He’s never seen you so needy in his life. He pushes in slowly and smoothly. Relishing your moans as he delves within you inch by inch, his thick cock stretching you out deliciously. You squirm in lascivious desire each time he enters you.

“I know, sugar, I know…” He soothes you upon hearing your sobs go up an octave. His head rests at the empty spot next to your neck and his hair tickles the crevice. “Almost there.”

As soon as he sinks deep in your warm cunt, he pecks your cheek with a softness that resembles duck feathers in a pillow before plummeting into you. A pornographic squelch resounds through your room.

“Hnn, T-Toru-nii is, so deep, ah, in my pussy!” You yelp. He’s so glad you’re still following his gross footsteps. So dazed by his cock hitting every ridge nestled within you.

“Yes, that’s right, little sis. And you’re gonna be a good girl and take it for me, right?”

You give a nod, “Yes, I will. I always will. Just f-for you.”

“Mmm, that’s right. That’s what I like to hear.” 

He inclines his torso backward, finding his attention on the feet placed at each side of his shoulders, more specifically, the one to his left as he grabs your ankle with ease, stroking the bone and putting your pedicured toe between wanting lips, your french tips hitting the roof of his mouth while lapping at your salty skin.

His pelvis hammers into you at a steady rate in combination with the gushes emerging from both sexes, it's so damn loud, you’re quite sure your Resident Assistant will come banging at your door frantically, telling you to lower it down because of the noise complaints that lead to your room.

You giggle, not just at the thought but at how much it tickles to feel Satoru’s tongue swirl around each toe.

“Satoru, that tickles.” You quip and the aforementioned man stares at you with knowing lids, purposely tasting your soles which have you trying to take your foot away, but the position you’re in makes it impossible.  

You feel as though hours go by as your older brother pushes on with fucking you silly and having a makeout session with your foot. His v-line collides with your poor pussy on every steady beat and you can’t help but let your earlier accusations fall from your mind like slippery soap.

The revulsion, the distaste, the discomfort–all of which were confined in a silk-woven case, trapped and compacted hitherto its evolution of approval. Although tentativeness plagues its cycle, the result remains beauteous as a cherry red butterfly protrudes through the rotten surface of the cocoon. The successful escapee finally swarms the sky with a setting sun.

It feels good. You feel good. Your pussy feels good as your step brother pounds it with intent–with purpose. You wiggle like a fearful worm ready to be eaten once the need to release creeps up slowly.

“My little sister always manages to feel so good. This pussy is just gripping me so fucking tightly and-” He stops abruptly and so do your moans as you hear your front door creak open.

The sound of jiggling keys and the chaotic trembling of plastic bags alert both your ears as you hear the door slam shut accompanied by a relieved sigh. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand–‘10:35 PM’. One of your roommates is back from work. Coming home to rest easy from their enervating shift, she wants nothing more than to take a scalding hot shower, laze in her bed, and listen to nothing but silence as she drifts off to sleep.

But before those temptations come into play, she first wants to check up on you to see if you’re still in your room. Walking up sluggishly to your door, she raises a hand to prepare a few knocks while you and Satoru both stare wide-eyed at the shadow that occupies the crevice beneath your bedroom door–still like Michelangelo's statues.

“Hey, (Name), you in there?” The pause is long as you look up to Satoru and see his gaping mouth transform into a smirk before turning your attention to the door.

“Uh, yeah, I’m here. What’s up?” You ask, slightly hoping that your answer will satisfy her queries on your safety before retreating to her room.

“After work, I took a quick trip to the store for some wings and frozen pizza if you’d like some. Even got honey-barbeque-” You smile at her gentle antics. She remembered your favorite flavor.

“Oh, thanks, I really appreciate th-oh!” You’re stopped once Satoru resumes pounding your sloppy pussy. You cover your mouth in an attempt to conceal your yap but a strong hand grabs both wrists to cuff them above your head.

“Keep talkin', sis. Can’t leave mom pondering, now can we?” He whispered with precaution. That devious little-

“H-Hey? Are you okay?” The squishy slaps of both Satoru’s precum and your wet fluids compose a cacophonic symphony. Shit, if he keeps going, you’ll- 

“Yeah, m-mhm. I-I’m, fuuuck, fine.” Satoru grins maniacally above you his hot breath pasts your cheek and into your ear. The tip of his cock abuses your cervix as he compacts you tightly under giant muscle, arms littered with bulging purple and blue veins as he keeps you steady. His pubes tickle your clit whenever his hips kissed yours. Both breaths were getting heavy.

“Are you sure, you sound…sick.” Her words were laced with worry as she stood there, unmoving. “Do you need for me to come in?”

Satoru finds her naivety hilarious but decides it's time to break the barrier. He does so by raising his hips to an exaggerated extent before hammering back into you, the sound much louder than before as clapping fills the atmosphere. He guarantees your roommate will pick it up. Which she does.

“Wait, are you-” She gasps when she hears your sobbing moans echo in her ears. “Oh my God.” You’re too fucked stupid to give a reply when she blurts out an embarrassed ‘sorry!’ before taking hurried footsteps away from your door.

“Guess we scared her off, huh?” Knowing damn well he was the one who only made the effort to let your roommate know you were being pounded to oblivion. “Think she’s gonna tell everyone about this? Tell everyone how her son and daughter ruin the family name because we were caught fucking each other in your room?” He’s quick to pick up in your roleplay.

“Hnngh, I don’t know, ‘Toru.”

“I’m quite sure she will. What do you say, sweet girl, how about we both give a real reason to soil the family name and let me come in this pussy?” His thrusts start to stutter with each filthy word–cream drips from your cunt and down to the tight rim of your ass. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you groan quietly.

“Answer me now, sweetheart, or Satoru-nii is gonna-”

“Yes, Satoru, fuck. Please come inside me, please, ‘don’t care about anyone in this family but you! Come inside me, Satoru-nii!”

With that being said, he fulfills your wish by giving you one, big thrust and stilling his cock deep in his little sister’s pussy to pump his hot seed in increments. Whimpering loudly as he does so. His face contorts in the cutest grimace that you wish you could smooch. You heavily breathe in unison until he pulls out of you (fingering his remaining cum back into your fluttering hole).

He kisses your cheek, then your forehead, and lastly your lips before saying, “You did so well for me.”

And it’s after this session that have you thinking–‘perhaps you do get it’.

[lovemomhatepolice]

charles leclerc nswf alphabet (part 2!) (minors DNI!)

navigation taglist requests

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) There is no question of any degradation. Never in his life would Charles turn to you - whether during sex or in normal functioning - in an offensive way. No sluts, whores, bitches. To him, you are the queen and mistress of his heart, so that's not an option. O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Honestly, it depends on your mood. Sometimes he can't get away from you and all he would do is spend time between your legs (you can't accuse him of lack of talent, the boy knows what he's doing) and not pull away. However, he also likes it when you take the initiative and take care of him. Especially if you both have developed such a mode that you are damn satisfied. P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Here, in the same way, I can say that it depends on the mood. Mostly, however, he puts on intimate, hot close-ups that are so infused with romance that one could even dream of such…. But if you just ask him to be faster or harder, he won't refuse. Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Despite his fondness for romantic close-ups, he is not opposed to quick rounds. If you just don't have much time, and you're already both bursting from lack of touch, definitely a quickie in the toilet is a great opportunity for him to be able to feel all of you. However, it's definitely more common for you to have quick oral sex when a man dives under your dress or you go on your knees. R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Since Charles told you directly that he would like to have children with you, you happened to have sex once or twice without any protection - to his disappointment, it didn't work out. And as for the risk of space, Charles tends to shy away from that. He loves to show that you are together and love each other, but the sexual sphere is only for your eyesight. S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) I think so 2-3 rounds at ease. I do not think more is needed here. Your sex mostly lasts quite long because of the techniques you use to make it better and longer, so don't need more than 2 rounds mostly. T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No. I don't feel like Charles has any toys or wants to use them in his relationship with you. Don't take me wrong - Charles is not the type who would be jealous of toys, however, he doesn't feel the need to own them. He is not against them - on the opposite, if you do own one, it will definitely come from his lips at some point that you should show him how these wonders work on your body… U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh, Charles on the one hand loves teasing you and on the other hand hates doing it. It all depends on the moment - if it's a quick round, there's no time for teasing either. If you have intoxicating romantic sex, he mostly doesn't do it either. But when it comes down to it, and it's Charles who is on his knees in front of you, oh my gosh! He loves it when you're one big moaning pile in front of him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) The middle of the Leclerc siblings loves to pay compliments during intercourse. Sam also constantly shows how good you are to him, but I wouldn't say it's somehow super loud. Yes, his mouth often opens with a loud breath or moan, but it's mostly you who are louder, which doesn't bother him at all… W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) A man loves the sight of you on your knees in front of him. It's really never been a big deal to him in his life, but if it's YOU kneeling in front of him with the intention of doing him good, you don't have to wait long for the finale… X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Not too big, not too small - a little larger than standard. The main thing is that it's perfect for you. Well, I swear! The two of you are so made for each other that you connect like a puzzle. Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) When he sees you in skimpier clothes, you don't have to wait long. Oh, Charles himself just has his hands on you already. It doesn't take much for him to come running to you like a stray puppy. But let's not kid ourselves, you also have a high sex drive and it doesn't bother you at all. You have sex often, but without exaggeration - you love the intimacy you can give each other, but in a fit of exhaustion or stress, you just let it go. Showing love in other ways with you is as much as possible, and you do it all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Oh, it takes Charles a long time to fall asleep. So you practically always have a long talk with each other after sex, and mostly you fall asleep first in his embrace, and he falls asleep quite a while later. Despite your best efforts, he chooses the moment of his own falling asleep. He loves to contemplate, stroking your hair and smiling to himself at how lucky he is.

A/N: part one if anyone missed it!! i will be very pleased if you leave something behind - orders are open, and I am very close to 200 followers! maybe I can get in by the end of the week? please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

this time, according to the votes, the chapter with lando won, so there you go!

[wing-ed-thing]

... And the Beast (Yonji Vinsmoke x Reader) Part IV

Synopsis: You thought your little crush on Prince Yonji was a well-kept secret. Yonji is mean enough to exploit your eagerness to please in the face of his unrelenting cruelty; the thought of actually developing a soft spot for you never even crossed his mind.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: Naive!Servant!Reader, No Reader Pronouns, Canonically Mean Vinsmokes, But Reader is Kinda Into It, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Name-Calling, Language, Reader Falls First, Yonji Falls Harder, Choking, Mild Physical Violence

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: Yonji my love how i've missed you so

You took a step back in surprise.

“How may I assist you, Master Ichiji?” You immediately bowed. 

Ichiji’s eyes made a sweep across the library before settling on you. He stepped forward, and you swiftly moved out of his way, pivoting to the side. But Ichiji positioned himself in front of you, staring forward before regarding you with the slightest turn of his head. 

His hand shot out instantly, grabbing the underside of your chin with his middle and index finger clutching one side of your jaw while his thumb dug into your face. Ichiji held you, tilting your face from one side to the other. 

“I came to see what the fuss was about.” His touch was harsh, but he wordlessly let you go to wander around the chamber. 

Ichiji strolled over to the stability cases first. He said nothing as he opened the one you had just closed, studying the books inside as intently as he had studied your face. Ichiji glanced at the shelves to his left, noting the gaps in what should have been a fully stocked collection. 

“Had you been ordered to perform an overhaul?” he hummed for as much as Ichiji could hum. He held the lid ajar with the heavy wooden lip resting between his knuckles like the weight was lighter than air. 

“No, Master Ichiji,” you answered, crossing the room to stand closer. “Master Yonji requested that these titles be reserved—”

“Prince Yonji.” Ichiji was quick and stern in his correction. You couldn’t help but blink in confusion as you tried to rapidly piece together what Ichiji was getting at. You knew the longer you didn’t understand, the more annoyed and volatile Ichiji would become. That was a rule of thumb for any of the princes. But Ichiji didn’t leave you to your thoughts for longer than a second. “That is what you call him.” 

You tried not to waver.

“Yes, Your Highness,” you confirmed. 

“Why?” The question shot from Ichiji’s lips like an accusation. 

Your mouth went dry. This hadn’t been the first time a prince had come into your humble workspace to make demands as he tried to reach some undisclosed point. It hadn’t even been the first time that week. Ichiji knelt to sift through a few of the titles.

“It is a proper form of address,” you offered. Ichiji remained quiet as he moved the books around. He didn’t have to say anything for you to understand that he was not satisfied with your answer. “And it is what Master Y— Prince Yonji prefers.”

Many of Germa’s soldiers trained closely with the three princes, and with their enhanced capabilities and battle-tailored minds, combatant citizens learned much from the royal family. And with most of the kingdom’s population consisting of soldiers, the title “Master” became the most common form of address when speaking of or to any of the Vinsmoke children. 

“I see.” Ichiji rose, letting the container lid slam closed with a bang. The noise pulled an involuntary jerk from your shoulders. Ichiji stood perfectly still. You couldn’t see the way his eyes carefully scanned the room. Ichiji pivoted on his heel, making for the set of stairs on the left-hand side of the chamber. 

You trailed behind him, unsure if he was expecting you to follow. Whether he wanted you to or not, Ichiji didn’t speak a word as he made his way up the velvet-carpeted steps. 

He took his time analyzing the shelves. Unlike Yonji, who appeared to enjoy touching any text that remotely stuck out to him, Ichiji clasped his hands behind his back to peruse the balcony with an eerie quietness. His face never changed from its usual, neutral frown as he slowly made his way around the room, stopping frequently as he scrutinized the spaces between books.

Yonji was expressive by comparison, although this wasn’t to say much, considering that he wore his reactions on his sleeve more often than not.  But even despite Yonji’s frequent brow jumps, lip dips, and nose scrunching, it wasn’t much of an observation to say that anyone was more expressive than Ichiji. 

He walked around the balcony, to the opposite end and down the right-hand set of stairs. Ichiji’s gait was firm and poised, and he held himself in such a way that somehow commanded authority over the room without him even having to speak a word. And yet, you could hardly hear his steps as he seemed to glide across the carpet. 

You lingered as Ichiji finally reached the bottom level again, placing him near your typical reading chair. You trailed tentatively behind with eyes averted to the door, posture upright, and ready to serve however Ichiji saw fit. You were, after all, still the library attendant for the whole Germa Kingdom. 

You hardly noticed how Ichiji lingered by the window. 

“Did my brother request this?” 

You had looked away from him for a second, and in the next moment, Ichiji had the book of fairy tales from all four blues clutched in his hand. He held it with the spine facing him as he continued to frown. 

“No, Prince Yonji did not.”

“A bit too old to be reading children’s books, aren’t we?” Ichiji pivoted a foot to face you. The light from the window behind him shrouded Ichiji in a blinding glow. It wasn’t golden or perfectly framed, but an overwhelming convergence of sunbeams that threw off the saturation of his face. “I’m talking to you, book roach.”

“Yes, Master Ichiji. I agree.” You dared not mention the children.

The sun only became more blinding as Ichiji walked toward you, letting the white light drip over his shoulder and into your eyes. For a moment, the sunbeams hit the back of Ichiji’s sunglasses just right, allowing you to see through the opaque lenses and straight into his piercing gaze.

His hand shot out instantly, grabbing you by both cheeks in an iron vice-grip. The webbing between his index finger and thumb sat just under your nose. Ichiji’s motion didn’t accommodate your height as he almost seemed to lift you, causing your knees to buckle. Your hands instinctively shot to his wrist. 

Ichiji pulled you in close while you squirmed in his grasp. You could feel his steady breaths against your cheek as he tilted his head to the side as a wild animal would when stalking prey. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will your body to release his arm. You knew the longer you touched him, the more whatever he was going to do next would hurt. But every adrenaline-fueled fiber of your being was held mercilessly at the will of your racing chest. Only the tips of your shoes touched the floor.

“I didn’t understand, and I can’t say I do now.” Ichiji’s attention moved from your face to the trembling fingers that creased the fabric of his sleeve. He found your movements thoughtless, caught somewhere between fighting him and being too fearful to. The very sight made him scowl. He would have preferred if you fought. “I can see the novelty in a soft, fragile thing like you. Still, I struggle to see what's truly captivating beyond that.”

He released you, letting you crumple to the floor at his feet.

“Dispose of this.” Ichiji dropped the book of fairy tales on your head as he brushed past you, leaving a surprisingly forceful breeze in his wake with his fast pace. “Germa doesn’t need this in the library.” 

With a few long strides to the doors, Ichiji was gone.

***

The fleet was supposed to sail into the storm overnight. The water was beginning to grow the slightest bit choppy by the time evening rolled around, but the bobbing of the ships was bearable. And with your responsibilities on your snail finished, your evening free, and the central kitchen nearby, you decided to visit Cosette. 

It was probably for the best, considering that most of the domestic staff was holed up below deck, trying to fight the cold that was making the rounds on your ship. The twins were hit extra hard, and between making remedial foods for everyone else, the cook had his hands full with the children. 

The central kitchen was sending out dessert by the time you arrived. You side-stepped a servant bringing out some sort of ice cream dish before making your way inside the ever-bustling kitchen. 

Cosette did a double-take as you entered, eyes flickering from her hand-whipped whipped cream before a wide grin overtook her lips. Her head tilted to the side with a raise of her brows and a pucker of her lips. Her rapid whisking didn’t cease for a second. You shrugged, making a little dance out of the playful expressions you silently made at her from across the kitchen. 

“Give me just a moment,” she told you with incoherent hand motions. 

Cosette moved gracefully and confidently throughout the kitchen as she placed the finishing touches on the desserts, which were rapidly being sent out the door. They passed by you, each looking even more elegant and delicious than the last.

You were content to wait out of the way as Cosette projected orders across the kitchen. Even her commands were soft despite their sternness, and everything around you seemed to move at lightning speed. 

Even as service was beginning to wrap up, it was difficult to cross the room. As soon as the last plate left through the doors, clean-up began. You managed to make your way to the opposite end and slid onto a stool parallel with a line of frosted-glass windows. Just below was a wooden counter that stretched across the length of the wall. A protrusion from the counter sat in front of you with another stool on the other side.

Gentle raindrops pitter-pattered against the outside the windows as the ship bobbed gently on the waves. You leaned an elbow on the wooden surface in front of you, turning your head to gaze at how the water droplets rolled down the nearly opaque glass. 

When Cosette finally joined you, she all but slammed her side into the counter, reaching across the tiny table to place a packed plate in front of you. Her haphazard movements caused the plate to spin, clattering against the hard surface below. Cosette let out a loud sigh. She had a bit of whipped cream in her hair. 

“It’s been a day,” she breathed, letting her head fall back.

“I couldn’t tell,” you mused, plucking a spoon from a basket of utensils on the counter behind you. Kitchen workers passed you, continuing to scurry about with dirty plates and cooking instruments.

“It’s always busy when the kingdom sails together like this.” Cosette breathed another heavy sigh, letting her forearms and head collapse on the table. She just barely missed slamming her forehead into the plate. Cosette reached blindly across the wood surface, finding your free hand and giving it a few fatigued taps. You dug into your food. Cosette could always seem to whip something up miraculously fast. “No twins tonight?”

You shook your head.

“My whole crew is getting sick. I’ve been kinda living in the southern library.”

“When are you not?” Cosette hooked her chin over her wrist. She let out another puff of air, letting her bangs fly over her forehead. Her head rolled to the crook of her folded elbow. “You’ve been pretty busy for a few months now.”

“Not any more than usual.”

Cosette shot up, plopping her cheek in her palm as she leaned over the table. Her eyes narrowed with a round pout. Commentary mounted on your tongue, and with every unspoken thought, her bottom lip crunched into her top one. Your name left her mouth like a gentle scold.

“Not any more than you,” you corrected with a laugh. The sound seemed to melt Cosette’s playfully cross demeanor.

“No prince tonight either?” The words spilled from her with a casualness you weren’t used to. For some reason, the question made your spoon stop on your plate.  

“Prince Yonji is out of the country. I think he will be for a few days.” you started, not noticing the slight, confused scrunching of Cosette’s face. Her head tilted acutely to the side, causing a few strands of her bangs to brush across her forehead. “And he doesn’t like when I disturb his evenings anyway.” 

“Oh,” Cosette mused with some thought and a few nods, withdrawing her touch as she sat up straight. But even with her upright posture, her cheek found her palm again, this time with her elbow resting on the counter to her left. She looked to the side toward the frosted glass window. “That’s odd.”

“What?” 

“Well, Master Yonji and Mistress Reiju returned a few hours ago. I’m back here for most of the day, so I can’t say I know this for certain, but—” 

You were too focused on Cosette and your food to notice the skidding outside the kitchen doors. Being quite the sight for royalty to be meandering aimlessly around the servants’ corridors, Yonji created quite the ruckus in the halls outside in the hall. 

He moved through them quickly, unsure where he was going until he caught a glimpse of you through the circular windows on the double kitchen doors. Yonji skidded to a halt, sliding an impressive distance on his heels before bursting through the doors with enough force to make them slam against the adjacent walls.

A small hoard of servants followed him, fuzzing over him and deeply concerned about what had upset him so much that he brought himself to the servants' corridors. Despite their volley of questions, Yonji ignored every probing servant as his gaze shot past every member of the stupified kitchen staff to where you sat with Cosette across the room.

His eyes were wide and round, and his lips parted as if he wanted to yell something across the halted kitchen. But the words stalled in his throat, and after a few moments of hesitant air, Yonji’s teeth reluctantly clenched.

The entirety of the servant’s halls stilled, with the staff mixed between hiding in storage closets and the braver of the group gathering near the kitchen to see what the commotion was about. After all, a member of the royal family remotely stepping foot in any servant territory was unheard of. And while Mistress Reiju appeared to be least likely to stick up her nose due to her status, even she wasn’t one to enter to step foot in the winding halls either.

All the kitchen staff immediately stopped in their tracks and bowed. Cosette jumped to her feet, racing across the floor faster than you could blink to bow deeply at the waist in front of Yonji. 

“Master Yonji!” she exclaimed. “How might I be of service to Your Highness?”

Despite her swiftness, Cosette was just as nervous as the rest of the kitchen. You could see it in the way she seemed to tremble. You didn’t have to see her eyes to know they were clenched shut. 

Yours were as well. You had dismounted from your stool to bow deeply along with the rest of the staff. As a civilian servant, there were no rules about which parts of the kingdom you were to remain in. You weren’t a soldier, after all, and so as long as your duties were done in the library and you weren’t ordered elsewhere, you had no post to adhere to.

Still, your thoughts weren’t far from the rest of the staff in the corridors. A member of the royal family coming to the main kitchen personally certainly meant little good. The lower you held your head, the better… at least you had thought so. 

You hardly noticed as Yonji pushed past Cosette, almost knocking her to the ground as he ignored her question. It only took him a few powerful strides until he crossed the kitchen, and it wasn’t until Yonji’s shadow had dwarfed you that you knew no amount of hiding your face could get you out of this one. You just weren’t quite sure what you had done.

He stood there for a moment, wordless. You couldn’t see his face to deduce what he was thinking, although you didn’t believe you were all that good at reading Yonji’s face to begin with. 

“How might I serve you, Prince Yonji?” you hummed. 

He frowned above you.

“Did I ask you to speak?” he gritted. Yonji made an irritated wave in the air, already rushing you to obey a command he had yet to give. “Get up. Up.”

You stood up straight. You had expected Yonji’s usual disdainful scowl, but instead, you were greeted with one of the deepest frowns you had ever recalled seeing him wear. His eyes were narrowed as he gazed down at you. The skin of his forehead between his brows twitched. Slowly, Yonji’s lips parted to reveal tightly clenched teeth.

“Why aren’t you in the library?”

“All of my duties were completed for the night, Prince Yonji—”

“A library attendant should be in the library!” He hardly let you finish before grabbing you by the arm. Yonji shoved you toward the exit, trailing closely behind you like a herding dog. 

He kept a hand splayed out in the center of your back as he corralled you forward. You practically jogged to keep up with the pace Yonji pushed you, moving quickly past Cosette and the rest of the kitchen staff. 

The double doors swung open, hitting the opposite walls in the hallway of the servant’s corridors, just like when Yonji came in. Castle staff scattered, and if the gathered didn’t run to hide, they stuck to the walls to allow you and Yonji to pass. 

Pity was by far the most common expression you saw as you passed. It was a look that was glanced at you for a fraction of a second, almost as if slipping it to you as consolation for what was perceived as a poor fate. You felt as if you were being patted on the shoulder for taking a penalty for the staff as a whole, for keeping the attention of one Germa prince meant lower chances for anyone else to be targeted.

But for the pity that flashed across the lowered faces you saw, a hidden disgust lurked. You were apparently the one who brought Yonji to these halls and, in turn, a potential threat to people just trying to do their jobs, as some might see it. You could see it in a few narrowed eyes, and while no one envied your position, you knew that Yonji’s firm touch on your back was more than enough to make imaginations run wild. 

You walked in front of him, which was unheard of for servants to do. Despite the initial shock that dragged your feet when you were in the kitchen, the demanding pressure between your shoulder blades wasn’t as needed as Yonji seemed to think. You had no reason to run, and as Yonji veered you sharply into a dead end, it became clear that he knew little about where you were going. 

“Prince Yonji?” you questioned.

“What?” he snapped, glancing at you with a snarl. His eyes searched the corridor, and his head swiveled angrily like a trapped animal. The grip on the back of your clothes grew tighter, scrunching the cloth into a ball.

“The exit is this way,” you hummed, accenting your words with a point. And for as tense and anxious as the entire hall of servants was from where they bowed behind you, you didn’t appear to have any qualms with being pulled from the kitchen. “I can show you.”

Yonji took a breath in as he released his grip. The fabric under his fingers remained partially wrinkled. 

“Well, go on then,” he grumbled, “I don’t have all day.”

Yonji gestured absentmindedly down the hall, waiting for you to lead the way. You started in the right direction, with Yonji trailing after you. 

***

The water was beginning to get choppy outside. The snails were starting to sway under your feet, and while Yonji had gotten his sea legs long before you ever did, the pace you walked made you think you might tumble down at any second. You hardly had the time to glimpse the greying sky above and the dark clouds in the distance. Your main goal was getting inside; the last thing you wanted was to be swept off deck by a wave. 

When you arrived at the southern tower, you closed the large, double doors with great effort. The wind fought you the entire way, and despite his superior strength, Yonji offered you no aid in closing the weather doors. Instead, he already made his way into the main chamber of the library. A metal apparatus had already been closed over the windows, protecting the glass from the harsh elements outside and leaving the chamber somewhat smaller without the view. 

You didn’t like the electric bulbs that glowed around the room. They weren’t consistent in color, illuminating the chamber in a light that felt sterile and yet dingy at the same time. Yonji stood in the center of the room, shadows cast on him, almost appearing disjointed and random due to the inconsistent lighting. 

He turned to you when you entered. The two doors to the library were the second set you had to tussle with. While they weren’t floor-to-ceiling like the one leading into the southern tower, they were by no means short and extended to where the balcony started. With the waves becoming increasingly violent, they either needed to be tethered open or bolted shut. You tried to bolt them shut.

Yonji scanned the chamber, pouring over the rows of locked-away books. For the first time in a few weeks, the main wooden table was completely clear.

“Isn’t there something you usually do around this time?” Yonji asked. It sounded like a question he had been thinking about for several moments, but with your battle with the door, you hardly registered him speaking.

One of the doors slammed shut with the ship's rocking, nearly taking one of your fingers off as it did. You tried to hold it in place as you attempted to corral the other one. Both doors were more than twice your height and difficult to pin down with the movement of the sea below.

“All of my duties are usually done before supper, Prince Yonji.”

You managed to pull the other door closed. You held both doors by their simple handles, waiting to catch your breath before you began on the locks. They wobbled and ripped, threatening to fling you away. 

“Not one of your duties,” he huffed, rummaging through one of the storm boxes somewhere behind you. He spoke with an added gruffness as if he thought you were dodging his unspoken question on purpose. 

By the time you managed to lock both doors, Yonji had performed a complete search of the boxes that held the books from the table. You nearly keeled over, huffing from exhaustion as Yonji stood over you with crossed arms. 

“I suppose I usually do some reading before dinner—”

“What kind of library attendant are you?” He had already moved on to another topic. Yonji did so often as his brain fired and processed at a rate much higher than the average person, leaving you to connect the dots to determine what he was talking about. “Can’t even keep your shit straight.”

“I apologize for my performance not being up to standard.” You bowed.

“Which one of ‘em came down here?” 

You blinked at him; your mental scramble to piece together what he was asking you made your brain fuzzier than his actual question.

“Master Ichiji,” you answered.

“Figures,” Yonji grumbled. The ship continued to rock. You shifted your weight, making minute changes to your stance as the floor bobbed. Yonji turned to you, a hand splayed over his jaw. The knuckle of his index finger just barely touched his bottom lip. “What did he want?”

His four-word sentence was devoid of his usual bitterness for how he spoke. You would have thought Yonji’s words sounded tentative if you hadn't known better. A vein in his temple twitched as he stared off somewhere into the library chamber. The waves outside didn’t appear to affect him at all.

The memory of Ichiji flashed across your mind, and even just the vision of his cold scowl made you consider your response carefully. The truth played on your lips.

“Master Ichiji came to inspect both myself and the library. He appeared to be displeased with how much time you’ve been spending here,” you considered saying but ultimately decided that perhaps such terms sounded charged. While you believed you knew Yonji decently well, you weren’t confident in making any assumptions about his relationships with his brothers. You hardly wanted to open yourself up to scrutinization or mistakenly place yourself in a position higher than you were. 

You also knew better than to hide things from Yonji.

“I believe that Master Ichiji came to review both the library and my performance,” you offered. It was technically accurate. After all, you weren’t exactly sure why Ichiji had come to begin with.

“A what? I’ve never heard of anything like that,” Yonji spat rudely, wearing his confusion on the scrunched-up expression he wore. “What was it? Orderd by our dad or something?”

“Master Ichiji did not mention anything concerning Lord Judge,” you said. Yonji let out a great huff. 

“Pretentious dickwad,” you heard him mutter before he turned to face you. His arms had coiled over his chest once again. “What did he do?” You almost blinked at the question.

“Little more than a simple walkthrough,” you answered, glancing off toward the floor. You didn’t think mentioning Ichiji’s apparent disdain toward you was worth mentioning. It came with too many assumptions, and that was assuming Yonji cared about those things at all. “Master Ichiji didn’t say much about it.” Yonji frowned.

“A bit simple for a formal review.” The vein in his forehead twitched again. You couldn’t help but wonder why Yonji was so fixated on his brother’s visit. While underutilized, the royal library was intended as a resource for the royal family. “If he asked you to reorganize everything in reverse alphabetical order and then put it back into alphabetical order, let me tell ya that you can ignore that under my orders.”

Your breath almost stalled in your throat. Was that something they had wanted you to do?

“Master Ichiji only requested that a single book be removed from the library.” Your statement flooded the room, filling the space in the chamber from the floor to the high ceiling. Yonji paused. His eyes darted from your reading chair and back to you.

“And did you?” He glanced at you, meeting your eye in a second with narrowed ones of his own.

“Of course, Prince Yonji.” You nodded, but your affirmation did nothing in the face of Yonji’s deep scowl. 

You stood, frozen in one place, as Yonji stalked toward you. The ship continued to waver on the waves, making it difficult to keep your balance and focus. But as he grew closer, Yonji’s vexed grimace started to slowly morph into a sinister smile. His eyes widened slightly, as did yours.

“If it were between my word and my brother’s word, who would you listen to?” he asked slowly. Yonji shoved his hands into the pockets of his slacks, taking a step just an inch too close before stopping. He tilted his head to the side. “Me? Or Ichiji?”

The doors to the chamber rattled just a step behind you. Yonji had cornered you with a calculated amount of space to spare, an illusion of escape even if you wanted to. Like all the pointed questions he asked, you knew Yonji had a correct answer in mind. Although there was right in the eyes of Germa, there was right in the eyes of Yonji.

“Prince Yonji, you know my loyalty lies with the Germa kingdom. I would never refuse a member of the royal family.” Yonji’s nose scrunched into a familiar snarl that melted into the corner of his lip. He was giving you an opportunity to remedy your answer. “Your Highness has spent much time here and knows this library intimately. I would readily trust your discretion, Prince Yonji.”

Yonji let out a single chuckle which bounced his chest with tentative amusement. He stared at you, judging you incredulously. 

“If I gave you an order, and Ichiji told you the opposite, you would obey me.” It was a question as much as it was a boast, like a child confirming superiority over the playground. Yonji leaned down to further lord his smug expression over you. “You’d sideline the eldest Vinsmoke prince just like that. Careful, that sounds a little treasonous to me.”

He liked to lead, asking pointed questions to drag you through carefully set-up hoops until you found yourself stuck. It took time to separate him from the game and an even greater effort to remind yourself that, for his words, Yonji was greatly pleased. He was pleased for the same reason he preferred you call him Prince Yonji.

“I have served as your personal aid for quite some time, and out of everyone in the royal family, you have spent the most time here by far. I would argue that myself and this place are at your disposal.”

“Ha! Shut up. You’re so annoying.” Yonji muscled you out of the way and made short work of the door latches you spent so long to secure. “If Ichiji— if any of my siblings— come sniffing around here and have problems, you send ‘em to me. I don’t care what any of them have to say.” Yonji turned to you as the doors flew open, nearly knocking you off your feet. His gaze was acutely darkened, and his grin was wolffish. “As far as I’m concerned, this place is mine.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: Yes! We are back baybeeeee! I think it's awesome that this series has somewhat of a following. Thank you all. i actually already have chapter 5 written, but as a rule of thumb I only update series when the previous chapter (so this chapter) has about 100 combined likes and reblogs. So I suppose I'll see you all later.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

[strwberrytae]

Beyond Desire | 05

→ pairing: taehyung x reader → rating: 18+ only - m for mature - sexual and graphic content → genre: drama / romance → words: 9.9k → disclaimer/trigger warning: this is a piece of fiction based off of the fifty shades of grey series. this is not a parody. there are mentions of strong dominant and submissive lifestyles based on research and personal experience. there are also various psychological issues that are addressed throughout the series; including anxiety, self-destruction, blood, bruises, panic attacks, childhood abuse, non-consensual sexual acts and self-harm. this is a work of fiction and not to be taken as a promotion of the series, fifty shades of grey. this is an original piece of work. edit is created by me. enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated.

→ a/n: thank you everyone for their patience! so much! I started this series years ago with the intent to continue it. life and lack of motivation got in the way, but it's made it's way back into fruition! this was frantically edited multiple times, though there still may be some errors. I hope you enjoy!

→ chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 [series in progress - must read previous chapters]

→ summary: it’s never easy falling for your best friend when you have so much history. it’s especially difficult when you both share the same sexual desires and lifestyle. taehyung is a dominant CEO of a well known company in Seoul and you are an up and coming editor. while both of you come from a troubled and dark past, you lean on each other for support and comfort. what happens as your feelings blossom and grow over the years? what happens when you fear Taehyung may be falling in love with someone else? will you confess your feelings or remain in the shadows?

The next morning, Joon Jae awoke at 6am as you realized he did every morning for work. You laid in his bed, so tired but awake. Your restless mind forbade you to sleep peacefully throughout the night. It was unclear how you felt, truly. Such an interesting feeling. 

All you knew is that you were stuck with the familiar dread of emptiness that you had experienced many times before. It felt as if you became a vessel overnight yet again whenever you've done this; letting men completely take over and dominate you in ways against your wishes as if it's perfectly normal. Not to say that’s what the BDSM lifestyle entails. In the past, you’ve had a bad run of Doms who didn’t truly grasp the concept of consent. Men who think they're dominant, on the contrary, they're just abusers. Looks like Joon Jae is just another one. The only thing to do now is play along until you figure out how to escape this - safely.

Joon Jae emerged from the bathroom, rubbing his damp, onyx hair with a towel and a satisfied smile on his face. 

“Morning gorgeous,” he greeted with his award winning smile. The term of endearment felt everything but. The word curdling in your ears. Turning over to face him, you put on a face as well as you always could; as if you hadn’t been utterly violated by this man the night before. 

“Good morning, sir,” you purred sleepily. The bitterness coated your tongue as the words came out. Whether or  not he caught on was not clear - most of them didn’t. As Joon Jae walked over to his black wooden dresser, you continued to lay on your side. Something caught your interest in the corner of your eye. Your gaze fell to your wrists. The handcuffs.

Upon your wrists were bruises from last night; a deep red color fresh in hue. It would certainly darken to purple throughout the day. You began to nibble on your bottom lip as you nervously checked under the blankets for more markings. Peppered on your hips remained fingerprints. They were not markings you were proud of - not like this. Bruises from the right person made you feel empowered, cherished. This was abuse of power - hatred. Your loathing for them grew rapidly; even though they've only just became a part of you.

“Why are you so quiet? Did I wear you out that much?” Nonchalantly, you place the cover back down as if you were only fixing it. Turning your head to face Joon Jae, he pulled on his boxers with an idiotic smirk on his face. His form was still beautiful, yet you were so disgusted by him now. Your eyes couldn’t help but to wander over his body; inspecting him. There was nothing - not a bruise or scratch. Here you lay in his bed completely marked and emotionally wounded by him and he gets to go to work without having to hide a single thing. Typical.

Letting out a big sigh, you sat up in the bed; making sure to cover your body with his gray silk sheets. Ever so slowly do you run your fingers through your hair and gracefully lick your lips to look as innocently seductive as possible. It was time to put on a show, and you were used to this performance. A sly smirk stretched on your face as your eyes became softer. After all, you still have some dignity left. That is something he can’t rob from you.

“And here I thought a little mystery to a woman was appealing. Does my silence bother you, sir?” Your voice slithered with seduction; hoping your little innuendo granted you his kindness with your performance. Joon Jae was a man after all, and you knew how to handle his type - call him Sir, Master. Obey, say please, submit. No matter what, or else. This was a man that got off feeling like he was the greatest thing on this Earth. A man who loved knowing that his submissive was actually afraid of him, displeasing him. To you? He’s the most disgusting person you have ever met. 

The dark haired man sauntered over to you, grabbing hold of your chin with his index finger and thumb. A soft yet firm gesture to make you look up at him without protest, yet it felt so putrid.

“Was that sarcasm in your voice that you heard,” he questioned in a quiet tone. And there it is. His lips were barely moving as he spoke; an indication telling you that he didn’t find your comment too cute after all. You subdued your flirtatious attitude and retreated back to what you knew best - submission.

“No sir,” you whispered in a soft voice. He hesitated before letting you go. After a moment of cringing silence, a smile appeared on his face as if he was just messing with you. Using fear to make you submit, and then flipping a switch - how sadistic.

“Good girl. Get up and get dressed. I’ll drop you off at work.” Fighting back every morsel inside of you, you swallowed your pride to obey. You need to come up with a plan when you’re in a safer place. As such, you responded as you always do, following his instructions with a charming smile on your face. 

Just as you suspected, the extra dress you brought with you came in handy as you anticipated staying the night. Your naked reflection in the mirror sent chills down your spine. Bruises peppered your skin with revulsion brewing inside of you . There were bags under your eyes as lack of sleep dragged them down. To put it mildly, you looked like hell. No matter how many times you've seen this sight from past failed relationships, the pain you felt in your heart still aches at the same intensity. You’re yearning for love grows more desperate. For real love.

A week’s time flew by as an absolute blur. To say you had quarantined yourself was an understatement - scared to face the world in your vulnerable state. You had completely submerged yourself into full submissive mode. It was all you could do to survive. The fear of what Joon Jae would do to you had clouded your mind as your dark thoughts took over. No matter how hard you tried to think of ways to part ways with him without retaliation, it was useless. There was a desperation coursing through you to reach out to Taehyung. No, you couldn’t. He would drop everything to aid you - fix the problem. It would be a burden. Instead, you carried on with your week as usual. 

Dealing with Taehyung was easy. Whenever he asked to see you for lunch, you were busy in meetings. Important meetings with clients were underway thanks to Jisoo making you as booked as possible per your request. Taehyung knows how dedicated you are to your work, and he has all eyes on any projects you’re working on. Nothing out of the ordinary for the new Commissioning Editor, right?

In all honesty, you were legitimately busy besides the tedious work you’ve added to your pile. Your contract with GQ Korea Magazine, Joon Jae’s magazine, was reaching its end which means long hours, lots of editing, and lots of problem solving. You promised them that by the end of the month, you would increase their profits via online and social media by forty percent. Your coworkers told you that it was too risky to promise such a big turnaround, yet that didn’t sway you. 

Typically, Kim Publishing worked with writers of novels, short stories, and more of the like. Occasionally, they worked with other companies that seeked better publication and production of their materials - online revenue. Working on this project ensured that while you were trying to remain distant from the world, you could see Joon Jae throughout the days without being entirely alone. Safe.

When he demanded your presence at night, you showed up at his apartment and gave him anything he wanted. Joon Jae did not hold back his passion for pain in forms of pleasure when you were together, but you had finally voiced for him to be cautious with marking you too much. Taehyung’s father’s charity ball was approaching, so requesting to avoid bruising wasn’t exactly unheard of. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop him from putting bruises in places he knew no one could see. 

As time progressed, you found yourself reaching a breaking point. Typically, you loved seeing marks tattooed on your body as a reminder of your nights of lust and dominance over you - but not with him. Every time you saw your Dom, you felt like you were going to be sick. Faking orgasms was getting harder each day. Although, as Joon Jae was a purely self-absorbed man, he didn’t really notice. 

At last, it was the day before the ball. Arrangements were made to leave work early so you could go home, and practice your song one last time before you had to perform it at the charity ball. You just wish you had the energy to be remotely excited about it. This was supposed to be your night to release your true feelings through the sound of music towards Taehyung. Although, here you were, in a relationship you couldn’t get out of. You're almost positive that Taehyung’s relationship with Yuri has only blossomed wildly this past week. Naturally.

When you arrived at your apartment, it was shortly after noon. Any other day, you would have grabbed lunch by now, but you've completely lost your appetite. It’s been like this all week. You've been surviving on ramyeon and espresso coffees all the while. Luckily, Joon Jae was going to be out of town today for an event, and wouldn’t be back until the ball tomorrow. You were relieved to finally have a whole day to yourself without twitching at the thought of him arriving at your doorstep any minute or ringing your phone. 

Once inside your apartment, it felt warm from the sun beaming inside of it. Perks of having a home with large windows in place of exterior walls. For once, you felt like you could breathe as you closed the door, greeted with silence. Your feet dragged you to the bedroom as you dropped your contents one-by-one on any surface you passed by on your way. Walking in a zombie-like state as your body starts to feel like putty, your body relaxes with each step. A hot bath would be absolute heaven right now; perhaps a glass of wine too. 

As you take off your cardigan, you hear something shift behind you. You turn around, gasping from shock before easing into instant relief and butterflies. It was your best friend standing there so casually.

“Jesus, Taehyung. You have to stop doing that. You almost gave me a heart attack. Honestly.” You clutch your chest with your hand over your rapidly beating heart. Although who knows if it’s because he scared you, or if this is just how your heart always beats around him. Likely the latter. 

Taehyung stood there, examining you. He didn’t say a word, but instead walked up to you blatantly looking you over you with a fiery gaze. And yet, in the same gaze seemed to be softness with concern. You had to subdue the inappropriate thoughts that instantly came to your mind. With a sense of security, and belonging that was not earned, your submissive side called out to his dominant side as he towered over you. He reached to cup your face, but you flinched ever so slightly by accident. This caused him to worry; melting to a sheepish stance. 

Taehyung’s touch had never bothered you before. He knew it was always platonically welcomed by you. At this moment, a look of hurt appeared on his face. With caution, Taehyung slowly proceeded to cup your face again, gently turning your head side to side as he looked you over. It was no secret that he was truly concerned about you. 

Out of shame, you couldn’t dare look him in the eyes as fear began to fill you; fear that he would see right through you. Taehyung released you, standing before you with a softer demeanor yet he still held a dominant presence. His aura made you want to run into his arms, but you refrained.

“Y/N, how long has this been going on,” he inquired in a low, calm tone. You pulled your oversized cardigan back over your shoulders to bring you extra comfort; suddenly feeling cold and uncomfortable. Just as your anxiety crept in, you noticed that Taehyung seemed fidgety in the slightest. He tried his best to hide it, but you can see his hands twitching inside his pockets.

“What do you mean,” you asked quietly as an attempt to hide your little secret. Swiftly, you move away from him to head towards the kitchen for the glass of wine that you desperately need right now. You could easily sense that Taehyung wanted nothing more but to stop you in your tracks. He suppressed the urge to interject as it wasn’t his place. His arm stopped abruptly as he removed his hand from his pocket, re-routing to “adjust” the hem of his shirt. He followed you to the kitchen casually. 

As you grabbed a bottle of merlot, pouring a reasonable amount for yourself, you took a deep breath. Following suit, you poured another for Taehyung as you know he would desire to join you. The first sip didn’t calm your nerves as much as you would have liked but the second one helped a little more. Taehyung took a respectful sip from the glass and maintained eye contact with you. His stare burns into your skin as you become flush with heat.

“Y/N. Answer the question,” he said in a firm voice. This time you looked up at him immediately without hesitation. Your submissive instincts take over as easily as they always do around him. Taehyung wasn’t dressed for work. Casual attire in loose jeans and black t-shirt; something that always looked good on him. You sighed softly as you realized just how much you missed him this past week. 

You’ve barely spoken, and you skipped out on your weekly therapy appointment with Yoongi. That’s probably why he was here. Therapists are supposed to keep client confidentiality unless you’re Kim Taehyung who seems to always get what he wants. It was ridiculously infuriating sometimes. It’s not like Yoongi flat out tells Taehyung information but he’s really good at pointing him in the right direction. Why does he even bother? Knowing that the inevitable conversation was about to take place, you took your glass and went back to your room. Taehyung flattened his pillow-like lips, and made way to follow you yet again. For someone that had so little patience, he always seemed to be wildly patient with you. 

“I told you I was busy this week,” you retorted with a shrug as you took another sip of wine, “I didn’t even have time to meet with Yoongi. Once this contract with GQ is done, I’ll meet with him, okay? If that’s your worry. You don’t have to interrogate me. Now, if you don’t mind, I was planning on taking a bath. Why don’t we catch up tomorrow at the party?” Your defensiveness took over like a prey-worthy animal in a corner - oversharing when caught. 

There was desperation in your voice that you could not hide so easily. Taehyung couldn’t hold back,  and reached out to grab your arm. He pulled up one of your cardigan sleeves in a quick motion, revealing the bruised lining around your wrist. You panicked to pull the sleeve back down and dropped your glass of wine. The red liquid spilled on the wooden floor as glass shattered around your feet. In the face of a small scare, you had never been so grateful as to not have carpeting. Red wine stains are the worst.

“Shit,” you whispered. You rolled your eyes as you took a step to get towels - frustrated with yourself. Taehyung stopped you in mid-step. His touch and rapid motion do not trigger you. The air stills. In the face of his dominance, you feel safe. Safer than anything and anywhere else in the world. His warm touch makes your legs weak.

“I’ll take care of it,” he lets out a sigh with worry. You bite your bottom lip, and look down at the ground to avoid his beautiful eyes - gentle almonds filled with care.

“It’s happening again, isn’t it,” Taehyung asked with calmness in his voice, evident with disappointment but primarily worry. He let out a frustrated sigh. Knowing exactly where you keep your cleaning essentials, Taehyung grabs the items effortlessly. His focus truly never leaving you.

“Why didn’t you tell me, Y/N? You promised that you would tell me if someone was taking advantage of you again so I could help you. How can I help you if you shut me out? Don’t you care about yourself? This is...” And then it happened, you shut down. Taehyung stopped himself from proceeding forward as he realized his overreaction wasn’t making you feel any better. What you really needed right now was comfort, not a lecture. 

The atmosphere stilled with silence as you fell into submission. Speechless with no words clouding your mind, and too timid to look him in the eyes. Everything went blank. He was right. Leaving him out of this was doing more harm than good, and yet here you were shutting down instead of running to him. Honestly, you didn’t know how to pull yourself out of your head. It was suffocating. Taehyung knelt before you as you spiraled. A soft breath escaped his lips.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung,” was all you could manage to say. A bashful response as you felt that you had  disappointed him. Internally, the inner demons you harbored convinced you that he was angry with you and would leave your side. Your best friend tilted his head to try to look at you. A soft, tender gaze looking at you with the sweetest smile on his lips. He reached to brush the hair falling near your eyes. Tears prickled your eyes as you melted into his touch.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. That’s not what you needed. I put my worry and needs before yours when you’re clearly not in the right state,” he let out a soft sigh with worry evident on his face. 

“What can I do to help you trust me?” He took your silence as an answer, and looked over your covered body. He took notice that you managed to cover every possible inch of you, even on a warm day. Words remained silent on your lips.

“How bad is it,” he continued kindly, “Please. Share your pain with me. Let me in.” Just like that, he unraveled you. Every wall came crashing down as the desperation in his voice made you yearn for him. Suddenly, the words flowed from you so easily; from your first date to the first time he punished you, to the hard limits he abused. 

“I was going to text you the first night it happened but...I was too scared. I submitted to him in more ways than I wanted to. I felt so pathetic,” you looked at him with tears in your eyes, “Please don’t be upset with me.” Taehyung’s nostrils were flaring. He was trying so hard to contain his anger towards the man that abused his power over you. After a couple of deep breaths, he stood up and held his hand out to you.

“Come on. I’ll draw you a bath. We’ll talk about this once you get some sleep. You look like you haven’t slept all week,” he said in a low, soothing voice. As much as you wanted to protest, the mention of sleep made your eyes heavier. Delicately, you took his hand and nodded. With his arm around your shoulder, he led you to your bathroom. He knew where everything was and drew you a lavender scented bath - your favorite. After grabbing a towel, he turned to leave but stopped.

“N/N...can I see them? The marks,” you froze in place as his question made your cheeks burn. The marks on your body ranged from your wrists to the back of your hips, and the round mounds behind you. The crimson hue to your skin reached your ears. Taehyung has seen you naked before but that was by accident. One shower incident, not knowing he was inside your home as you danced to the kitchen to grab a snack. One very embarrassing incident - and he laughed. 

You know it’s nothing sexual, yet it’s still inadvertently intimate. Even stripping down to your underwear, you’d be so exposed to him. Surprisingly, you considered showing him, to be seen by someone else and feel validated that these marks are just as putrid as you see them. This boundary… Is it appropriate to cross it? He is your best friend after all - the person you trust most.

“The marks? They’re in private places, Tae. I don’t think Yuri would like that very much.” Taehyung stiffened and for once, he seemed slightly embarrassed. Maybe it’s because he’s not used to having a girlfriend and didn’t think about that. He took a step closer and handed you the towel.

“Yuri doesn’t control me,” he said in a stern voice but then softened, “You’re my friend and I- I need to see them. I need to know.” There was sincerity in his eyes. It almost seemed as if he was scared. Is he punishing himself for what happened to you? You've only seen this side of him once before. 

You were in the hospital after a bad session with one of your past Doms. Taehyung was away on a business trip for a week and when he came back, you were asleep in the gurney with several bruises and a cut lip. He thought you were asleep, but you could hear his tears and his apology for leaving you; promising he would never let this happen again. On the outside, you looked like you would be fine but he knew you wouldn’t be - not mentally. Perhaps this would be proof to him that this was real yet again. With a soft nod, you slowly began to undress.

Out of respect, Taehyung kept his distance; taking a step back as you did so. First your cardigan, then your knee length dress that hugged your curves - leaving you in your bra and underwear. Surely that would be enough for him to see the bruises that peppered your body - now shades of yellow, green, and brown. His eyes started making their way across your skin. You bit your bottom lip, and watched his gaze. It gave you chills in a way of vulnerability but also, arousal. Thankfully your bra was padded, otherwise he would be able to see how much his eyes affected you. Your nipples were erect, and your underwear damp with need. 

Desperately you wanted him to touch you - hold you. You wanted to feel his hands caressing your body in ways it’s never felt before. Somehow you knew that his touch would heal you. It would make you feel no pain, only happiness. Something fierce turned in you, and it took every ounce of your being not to speak up. Taehyung did something that surprised you. His coffee-brown eyes seemed darker or maybe it was in your imagination. 

He took a cautious step closer to you. His eyes remained on your hips where the worst bruises rested. On each side, beneath the black fabric that hugged your hips, bruises in shapes of fingerprints - marks of Joon Jae’s nails that had pierced your skin. Your breath became shaky as he stood before you. It was like he was hypnotized by your marks, yet you couldn’t read what was churning in his mind. He extended his hands and slowly reached for your hips. His fingertips brushed over your skin. His eyes moved to yours to look for a sign, expecting you to wince from pain or hesitation of his touch. Little did he know that his touch relaxed you beyond compare. 

“S-see...it’s not that bad,” you whispered as you met his gentle gaze. Something shifted in his eyes as your eyes locked, something you've never seen before. You weren’t sure what it was. Yet, he just stood there - unwavering his eyes.

“Taehyung-”

“I should go. I have to take care of something before the ball. Thank you…for showing me,” he said softly. You nodded as he released his gentle hold on you, leaving you cold and in need of his touch again. 

“Min-hyuk will pick you up at 7 tomorrow night. I’ll be wearing a black mask. Come find me when you arrive, okay?” A lighthearted chuckle escaped you as he handed you the towel to cover yourself.

“A black mask in a sea of other masks? I don’t think that’ll be too hard.” He smiled back at your little joke, and left you alone in your bathroom. As soon as you heard the door closing faintly in the distance, you felt like you could breathe again. Your body was on fire as you could still feel his touch. It felt like electric waves coursed through your veins just in a few seconds. 

Turning to the warm bath that awaited you, the bath he drew for you, you sighed. When you discarded your bra, your nipples perked just as you knew they would. It was no surprise that when you eased your underwear down your legs, a string of arousal clung to them as your core remained swollen. As usual, the bliss of your own fingers, imagination, and a soothing bath will have to ease your ache for yet another night.

Not a single word out of Joon Jae today. It wasn’t unusual but since he was returning today from his trip, you figured you would have had a message from him with instructions for tonight. Although it’s not like you’re complaining. His silence is your saving grace.

As you sat in the back of Min-hyuk’s car, you watched the traffic as it rushed by. He looked in the rearview mirror to glance at you. Your mask wasn’t in place yet as there was no reason to hide your identity just yet. There was never a need for a divider between you as he was your friend as well.

“Miss Y/N,” he said from the front. Your gaze met his in the mirror and smiled in turn.

“Yes Min-hyuk?” Min-hyuk’s eyes flickered between you and the road to drive safely. He watched the road as he spoke.

“You look very beautiful tonight. I hope you smile a lot tonight. You deserve it, N/N.” His words made your heart skip a beat. Min-hyuk was like family to you. Almost like an uncle but more of a dear, old friend. He told you once that he hopes his daughter grows up to be like you, and that was the greatest compliment he could have given. Although, for both of their sake, you hope she becomes much better; stronger and wiser, just like her father. Min-hyuk stopped the car as he pulled into the Kim’s driveway. Grabbing your mask to put in place, you leaned forward to get closer to Min-hyuk. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder to kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what I would do without you, Min-hyuk. Thank you.” He smiled back at you whilst trying to remain professional, he averted his gaze straight ahead. Various people in all colors and shapes cascading into the radiant home. So many elegant gowns with elaborate details to match the masquerade theme. A gentle thought crossed your mind and you couldn’t resist.

“Why don’t you go home? I can easily find a ride home. Besides, I’m sure your daughter would love to see you at a decent hour.” There was a sparkle of hope and admiration in his eyes that you couldn’t help but to adore. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll let Taehyung know I relieved you. I’ll take the scolding.” It was obvious that Min-hyuk tried masking his excitement but you could see right through it. With the slightest of smiles but the fullest heart, Min-hyuk got out of the car to open your door. You got out and stood by his tall, broad form.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he responded. Smiling at him, you squeezed his forearm gently.

“Have a good night, Min-hyuk.” With that, you sauntered off into the night to join the rest of the mysterious guests of Min-ho’s masquerade ball.

The Kim’s home, that had always been your safe haven, had transformed into a modern renaissance extravaganza. It was simply stunning. Hues of red and gold filled the room with chandeliers to add to the expensive tone. Jesters and performers of all kinds were scattered around the room to entertain guests as they walked by. From jugglers to a man swallowing a ball of fire as if it was water quenching his thirst. 

A smile appeared on your face in appreciation of how well the Kim’s always throw a party. It was over the top and yet they always spent more money than they pocketed in profit. It’s never about the money for such events, especially a charity event. This night is for underprivileged children in broken homes and drug addictions. A cause they have always been passionate about. It was admirable - and why you’re a part of their family today. 

Feeling confident as you glided into the mansion, you felt proud of your dress. You felt sexy. It was conservative yet not. The dress caught your eye ages ago, deciding to keep it for a special occasion. A golden dress with glimmering accents that made you feel radiant. Your bare skin peeking through the nude toned mesh material, from afar looking see-through in a teasing way. Sequins reflecting every light you pass under as if you were a walking piece of jewelry - not too tacky or gaudy. A delicate turtleneck with exposed shoulders to reveal your soft skin in contrast to the floor length gown. Caressing your hips and between your breasts was a sheer fabric that lightly exposed your skin, just enough to show you were not wearing a bra or underwear - not enough to give everyone a show. Fortunately, the material cupping your breasts was thick enough to hide the perk to your nipples as the dress was mildly stimulating. The ensemble you chose didn’t go unnoticed by the others at the party. People casually glanced your way, yet your head remained high as confidence coursed through you

A gold mask laid on your face well enough to hide your insecurities. It matched your dress in its sparkle and shine. There is just enough makeup for a natural, bronze look to pair evenly with your attire. With grace, you scanned the room as you walked through. The Kim’s decorated their home to look like a casino to allow people to gamble for a cause. People of all sorts spread throughout the home at blackjack tables, poker, craps, roulette, but also the dance floor. Smooth jazz played in the background as the live band and black tied man sang at the microphone. 

For the first time in a while, you felt unafraid and sure of yourself. At least until you saw something that made your confidence drop into the pit of your stomach. Taehyung entered the room with a silver dressed goddess on his arm - Yuri. She wore a silky dress that clung to her petite body. It was apparent that Taehyung bought it for her. It had his taste written all over it. Even you could tell that Yuri was a simple girl that didn’t like extravagant things. The dress suited her and you can’t deny that you don’t envy her for it. Although you love the dress you're in, a part of you wants to be in that dress instead - or perhaps, on Taehyung’s arm. Thankfully, Taehyung’s elegant mother approaches you, and gives you the distraction you desperately needed.

“Y/N! Oh my… You-,” she let out a sigh and smiled sweetly with tears in her eyes, “You look absolutely stunning, dear.” Sooyoung reaches you, immediately giving you a kiss on each cheek after a warm hug as she always does when she sees you. She looked stunning in her black dress. She always looked beautiful in such a warm way that made you feel nothing but comfort.

“Thank you, Sooyoung. You look beautiful beyond words as always. The party seems like a success as I knew it would.” Sooyoung smile, humbly brushing off your compliment. Letting out a pleased sigh, she looked around and nodded.

“You’re too kind, dear. It turned out very well. I can’t say I’m not proud.” At that moment, Taehyung and Yuri turned towards you to meet Min-ho, his father, to exchange a few words. You tried your best not to acknowledge the situation. Fortunately, a waiter walked by with a tray of champagne. Quickly taking a stemmed glass, you downed it without a problem. Sooyoung smirked and took a sip from her own that she gathered as well.

“I’m sorry to hear about Joon Jae, although I’m sure you’re a little relieved,” she said as she lowered her glass. This caught your attention. You cocked your head slightly as you lowered your glass to hold elegantly in your hand.

“Joon Jae? What do you mean?”Sooyoung almost looked amused at your question.

“Why do you sound so surprised? It’s been all over the news all day - the arrest. Surely, you heard about it,” she waited a moment before continuing, “Embezzling thousands of dollars for years is bound to catch up with a person. I must say, I had a bad feeling about him. At least now you don’t have to part ways in an uncomfortable way. Assuming you would be parting ways, that is.” Embezzling money? What on earth is she talking about? You tried your best not to seem too surprised. Instead, you nodded to agree with her. Thankfully, a couple approached her to grasp her attention; giving you an opportunity to get away. 

Out of your small clutch purse, you pulled out your phone. Your instinct told you to just search on Naver for Joon Jae’s name to see what came up. To your surprise, his name appeared instantly in a headline - “Ahn Joon Jae Hordes Thousands from GQ Korea Magazine”. Within the first paragraph, it described his crime; stating he stole money from the company through false stocks and bonds. An anonymous tip warned the authorities yesterday afternoon and he was arrested the moment he landed back in Seoul from a business trip. Something about this raised an alarm inside of you. You looked up from your phone to find Taehyung. He was deep in conversation with another couple with Yuri clinging to his side. 

A part of you felt upset by this, yet another part felt touched. The ultimate fear inside of you of the consequences from this couldn’t help but to surface. There was no doubt it was Taehyung. The situation was too perfectly timed. He had to take care of something alright, you thought. Joon Jae was a powerful man. Could Taehyung’s power overshadow his or would this come back to haunt you? Your thoughts were interrupted by a man in a tuxedo in a black and silver mask. This man was Ki-young, Taehyung’s older brother.

“Can our girl dress to impress or what? N/N, you look freaking amazing,” the golden retriever said cheerfully. It was obvious from his ecstatic mannerisms that it was your unrelated brother. Right away, you could recognize his date from your previous dinner together. She wore an elegant blue dress that complimented her dyed blonde hair accompanied by a silver mask. Ki-young leaned forward to give you a kiss on the cheek and you reciprocated.

“You always know how to make a girl feel special. Hello Yoona. You look beautiful. I can see why Ki-young is so cheerful tonight.” The young woman blushed, and squeezed Ki-young’s arm as she held onto him.

“Thank you. I have to say this isn’t your everyday crowd, but it’s a lot of fun being here dressed like this. So many elites and chaebols are here,” she whispers excitedly, “But seriously, N/N. That dress is to die for. Your boyfriend must be a mess seeing you like this. Where is uh...Joon Jae, right?” Ki-young looked a little guilty towards you, or at least knowing of the situation. You simply smiled kindly.

“Joon Jae isn’t here tonight. I came alone. I couldn’t let this dress go to waste,” you teased lightly, “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to speak with Min-ho for a moment. Have a good evening you two.” As much as you wanted your exit to seem nonchalant, Yoona looked at Ki-young with apologetic eyes. She could sense she unintentionally made you uncomfortable. He assured her that she did nothing wrong with a simple kiss to her temple.

Indeed, you did go to find Min-ho for further instructions on your performance tonight. You couldn’t face Taehyung; not yet at least. Besides, he was busy entertaining Yuri, so you didn’t want to interrupt them. In fact, the more you thought about it, knowing you were truly alone tonight, all you wanted to do was sing your song and make your exit. Going home, putting on some pajamas, and watching a chick flick with a big glass of wine sounded delightful - maybe a whole bottle. 

Min-ho was found standing with Sooyoung as they spoke to another lavish couple. As you approached them, you tried sneaking glances at Taehyung. Luckily, he never noticed. Your fictive kin  parents took notice of you as you approached them, and said their goodbyes to the couple they were speaking with.

“N/N, dear, you look stunning. I’m so glad you made it,” Min-ho said with delight. You leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. He had such young features for a man his age; so comforting and bright. The Kim’s were truly a good looking family, even including Taehyung being adopted into the family. Their wealth and status never faltered their kindhearted nature. They always remained true and pure. You couldn’t have asked for a better family to stand by your side throughout your years.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you took another quick glance at Taehyung, whom you found on the dance floor with Yuri. Sooyoung took notice as she always does - as most mothers do.

“So, your performance. Are you well prepared?” Min-ho smirked as the instruments in the background came to an end. The guests clapped respectfully for the band. Butterflies tingled to your very core.

“It looks like it will be about right about now,” he remarked with a wink as he walked towards the stage. The intoxication of the champagne seemed to hit you like an IV tap - giving you enough courage to carry on. Sooyoung stepped closer to you and put her hand on your arm for comfort.

“Don’t be nervous, dear. It’s going to be beautiful,” Sooyoung reassured in her sweetest, motherly tone. With a sigh, you put your hand over hers before she let go.

“I’m...going to sing something different. Something with more meaning. I don’t think the world is ready for the mess I’ve been writing these days,” you joked with a nervous laugh. It was a decision you were perfectly happy with. Most of the songs you sang had a dark and somber meaning between the lines. This selection was specifically driven towards a more light yet still romantic setting. As you sat down each night to practice this song, something felt right. This song made your heart hurt in the most healing way - the old, jazz classic, Everytime We Say Goodbye.

“It is my pleasure to introduce a beautiful, young woman who has been nothing less than a daughter to me and my wife over the years. It turns out that she has wonderful talent, and now she’s going to share it with all of you. We’re delighted to witness such a gift. Ladies and gentlemen, Y/N L/N.” When you heard your name, your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes on the microphone as you approached the small stage area.

It’s been so long since you've performed in front of people. Well, you had piano recitals in school, but you didn’t have to open your mouth to sing. Ever. This was new territory and surprisingly, you didn’t feel like you were going to throw up. Although, it did feel like your heart was beating in your throat. A part of you felt relief that Soo-young convinced you to stand outside of your comfort zone. It was especially invigorating as no one really knew you could sing. And now, the people closest to you and a room of elite strangers were about to see your vulnerability on display. 

The crowd lightly applauded as you took your graceful strides forward. When you got up to the stage, you were greeted with a sea of elegant men and women in extraordinary dresses and masks - a beautiful sight yet excruciatingly intimidating. Even though this was an upscale lifestyle you were used to seeing, you still didn’t feel as if you fit in. But now, with this song, you could escape to a world that was always your safe place. It should be a terrifying thought but the only set of eyes that make you weak in the knees are his.

The piano keys begin playing in the background in a harmonious fashion. Nervous fingers twitch at your side to the melody to follow along the rhythm. Instantly, as you close your eyes to take it all in, it takes you back to your childhood. When you and Taehyung were having your darkest of days. Playing jazz albums on the vinyl player he kept in his room, this song in particular - Every Time We Say Goodbye. Tonight, the beautiful melody was sung by you.

We love each other so deeply That I ask you this, sweetheart Why should we quarrel ever? Why can't we be enough clever,  never to part -

It wasn’t until you drew out the last note that you finally opened your eyes. Closing your eyes allowed you to feel the music and travel back to the time you held so near and dear to your heart. When you opened them, your focus was on the pair of brown eyes that always made your heart flutter. It took no time to find them as if your auras were calling out to each other. The melody remained slow as your voice led the flow of the chords. So tender and raw with a hint of deep love with each note that escaped your lips. A fabrato purred in your throat with each ending word naturally.

Every time we say goodbye, I die a little Every time we say goodbye, I wonder why a little Why the gods above me, who must be in the know - Think so little of me They allow you to go -

The song flowed in perfect harmony with your voice as people began slow dancing along. Eyes respectfully tried to remain on you as your presence was captivating in every way. In particular, Taehyung was watching. There was a soft smile on his lips. You couldn’t tell if he was surprised or in awe or just content to be near his beloved. Yuri said something to him that you couldn’t make out. He then turned his attention back to her. It was only for a moment and his gaze was back on you as they continued dancing with one another. 

When you're near, There's such an air of spring about it I can hear a lark somewhere begin to sing about it - There's no love song finer But how strange the change from major to minor Every time we say goodbye Every time we say goodbye -

The song came to an end with a big weight lifted off of your chest. The room cheered. In Particular, you took notice of Ki-young and Min-ji clapping and cheering louder than anyone else in the room - such supportive siblings. You couldn’t help but to smile with a tinted rose in your cheeks. Graciously, you curtsied to the crowd. Walking off the stage, the band began playing the next song to keep the mood for the party. You decided to go towards the dance floor to find everyone; well, Taehyung. Interrupting your search with eagerness, Ki-young, Yoona, and Min-ji walked up to you. Min-ji was the first to give you the biggest hug her petite body could handle.

“Y/N L/N! Oh my god! I didn’t know you could sing like that! Babe, you sounded like an angel!" As you hugged her back, you couldn’t help but to giggle. Her enthusiasm made you feel warm. Min-ji was always such a bright spirit and you loved her for it. 

“Thanks Min-ji. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you before going on. You look ravishing as always.” Min-ji gave you a look and then the same to Ki-young.

“Can you ever take a compliment without giving one back,” she asked with a laugh, “but thank you. You know how much I love a good party.”

“You love anything that involves you dressing up, Min,” Ki-young interrupted with a kind smile. Min-ji turned to him with a cheeky smile showing that he was right on the nose.

“You know me all too well, big brother.” At that moment, Taehyung arrived by your side and gently placed his hand on your lower back. An instant chill ran up your spine as you caught a glimpse of the coy smile he gave his siblings; his scent filling your nose. Smoked cherries - spicy and sweet. Ba-dum, ba-dum. Be still my heart.

“Ki-young, Yoona, Min-ji, do you mind if I steal N/N for a moment?” The trio smiled and willingly let him whisk you away. He didn’t waste any time to take you further onto the floor, readying himself in position to start dancing with you. He held you close and your instinct was to find Yuri to ensure this didn’t bother her. She couldn’t be seen anywhere.

“Where’s your date,” you asked casually. Taehyung looked at you without an emotion you could read and held your hand a little tighter in an endearing way - a comforting way.

“She’ll be back soon. So, when were you planning on telling me that you could sing like that? I've  known you practically your whole life and I've never heard you. Curious.” The word slithered out like a snake who just caught his victim. The way he asked seemed as if he was slightly insulted that he didn’t know. A playful scoff came out. The man acts as if there can be no secrets between you two. Little does he know. He discovered something about you that he couldn’t read in a file. Poor thing. You looked into his eyes and remained coy.

“You don’t have to know everything about me, you know?” He laughed lightly in amusement. Lowering himself to meet your ear so only you could hear, his breath tickled your skin.

“You and I both know that’s far from the truth. I must know everything about you,” his voice  hummed deliciously in a way that made you shiver, “For what it’s worth, you have a beautiful voice, along with how you look tonight. You sang our song. Should I be flattered or was that just a coincidence?” His gaze returned to yours as he parted from the side of your face. Prayers couldn’t prevent your cheeks from changing colors. His irises seemed darker somehow. It made your heart race.

“It depends. Are you flattered, Taehyung?” Wait. Are we flirting? It’s been a while since we’ve been playful towards each other; at least since before Yuri came into the picture. A smirk formed on his perfectly shaped lips - hypnotizing.

“Flattered enough that I want to hear you again. Would you sing for me,” he asked in an enticing voice. It was then that you realized how close you were dancing together. His touch felt like fire against your lower back as the material of your dress was dangerously thin. You could feel how firm his chest was as your torsos were sandwiched together. The smell of his body wash and light scented cologne makes your head spin. Surely he could feel how fast your heart was beating. Or perhaps he could smell how aroused you are. Your cheeks flushed deeper as you looked up at him.

“You know I’ll do anything you ever ask of me. I’ll do anything for you, Taehyung,” you said in a submissive tone. Saying his name when you spoke to him was your own way of being submissive to him, but you're not sure if he ever noticed. Something changed in his expression. It seemed as if time stood still. Suddenly, Taehyung’s attention averted towards the entrance. Yuri was headed out in a rushed fashion - almost as if she was running away. His attention was no longer in your presence as he watched her descend towards the doors.

“Perhaps a raincheck. Excuse me.” And in an instant, Taehyung left. Initially, the feeling of disappointment coursed through you yet your empathy took over. Whatever it was, it would be awful of her boyfriend to just stand there and watch her leave. And yet, how quickly he ran to her without hesitation made your heart drop ever so slightly. You got your dance and sang your song. May as well make your exit. Regardless, it was all you wanted from this evening. 

Sooyoung and Min-ho are sitting at a table engaging in conversation with other elites. With a deep breath to regain your composure, you make your way over there to say goodbye. They both look up at you with delight.

“Sorry to leave so early but I think I’m going to go,” you interrupt politely. Min-ho went to speak but was pulled into another conversation by a peer. Sooyoung looked disappointed by this.

“But the evening has just begun, darling. Won’t you stay for the auction? It’s coming up soon.” Ah, the auction. Bidding on items and events isn’t exactly your cup of tea. Your contribution was your voice and you couldn’t bear to be there any longer. Walking over behind them, you kissed each of them on the cheek.

“Enjoy your evening, okay? I’ll come over soon to share a meal.” Sooyoung opened her mouth to protest, however, you left before you could hear another reason to stay. For once, you wanted to be selfish. You needed to be selfish. Besides, nothing sounded more appealing to you than spending the remainder of the night with yourself. Perhaps tonight, you’ll start learning how to move on; starting with the biggest bottle of wine that you can find.

It was nearly midnight and you were sure the party had come to an end by now. A content sigh escaped you as you walked out of your bedroom in your most comfortable loungewear. Face washed and your routine night care had been complete - leaving you feeling fresh. Eagerness coursed through your veins as your bare feet led you towards the kitchen. A steaming cup of tea awaited you. 

With your cup in hand, you walked over to your couch whilst taking tiny sips to soothe your soul. A fuzzy blanket laid lazily just calling out your name. Now that the ball was over, a weekend ahead of catching up on rest seemed like a dream. Just as you were about to turn on an episode of one of your favorite dramas, there was a knock on the door. Panic made you freeze; alert yet confused. Who would be at your door this late at night?

Fear rose in your chest as you slowly got off the couch. Please don’t let it be Joon Jae… Your phone in hand ready in case you need to make an emergency call to someone, anyone. Thoughts mumbling internally as you approach the tiny security screen near your door, you take a peak to see your visit. To your surprise, it was the last person you were expecting to see. Instantly, you opened the door.

“Taehyung? What are you doing here?” His hair looked slightly teased. His suit jacket was gone leaving him just in a button down shirt, the top two buttons undone and his tie unraveled around his collar. He looked up at you in a way that caused your heart to skip a beat. Had he been crying?

“She’s gone. I guess I’m more of a monster than I thought…” His voice sounded so defeated. It broke your heart into two. Nothing stopped you from reaching out for his hand to lead him inside.

“Ah... Come inside,” your soothing voice whispered. When you closed the door, he stood in place. Looking around your apartment as if it was the first time he had ever been here. Lost and dazed. What the hell happened to make him so disheveled? As much as you wanted to wrap your arms around him, you decided to keep your distance. Instead, you went to the kitchen to grab a cup of tea for him as well. He looked like he desperately needed one - something comforting. When you returned to him, he hadn’t moved an inch. He slowly reached for the cup, wrapping his hands around it without taking a sip.

“What happened? I haven’t seen you like this...in a really long time. Are you okay?” Somehow, you felt as if you could feel his pain. Your attachment to him truly took a hold. The empathetic connection you shared was all consuming, as if you had the power to fix everything.

“She wanted to see. She wanted to know how far I could go. It wasn’t even my furthest. I proceeded with caution, started slowly. But she looked at me as if I abused her. I trusted her to tell me to stop and she never did. Why didn’t she use her safe word? I...I don’t know what I did wrong.” Blood boiled inside of you. Although he spoke without much context, you knew exactly what he meant. Yuri must have challenged Taehyung to show her his true dominance. Why like this? Yuri was new to the world of BDSM. Trust is the utmost important aspect of the realm. To defy this trust is the worst you can do - whether as the dominant or the submissive.

Remember when you interviewed Yuri a while back, she asked you questions about this lifestyle. It wasn’t a life for her. She didn’t understand. You don’t just become submissive. You either are or you’re not. Maybe you should have warned Taehyung but he needed to see for himself. In the moment, all you could do was keep to yourself. Now wasn’t the time for “I told you so”. He needed a friend, a confidant.

“You’re not a monster. Don’t ever think that way. You have strong feelings for Yuri and I get that. I really do. You gained feelings for someone who doesn’t understand this life, which isn’t easy. Being a dominant or a submissive isn’t a sin. It’s not weird or unusual. It’s an intense relationship that involves trust in so many forms. You need someone who can give you the best of both worlds - a submissive and a deep connection outside of the bedroom. I’m...sorry that person wasn’t Yuri. Give it some time. Maybe she just needs to think about it and she’ll come around. If you’ll accept her trust again, that is.” Taehyung’s gaze never left yours as you spoke. Something softened in his eyes.

“I don’t think I could trust her again. Who is to say she won’t do it again? Maybe…I need someone that can give me that trust. Someone...like you.” Your jaw dropped and lips dried as you lost your breath. Eyes widened at his words, your head frantically started replaying his words to make sure you heard them correctly.

“I-I...I don’t know w-what you mean. You’re not thinking clearly. Why don’t we sit on the couch?” Fighting every fiber of your being to think too much into the situation, you turned to go towards the couch. His hand reached for your wrist to still you. His eyes were dark, lingering enough to make your skin heat with anticipation.

“I’m thinking more clearly than I have in my entire life. Y/N, why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” Time stood still. What did he mean? It couldn’t be. The song perhaps? How did he know? Thinking back, you recalled getting an unusual text from his mother after you left the ball.

It will all be better soon. I promise, dear.

Sooyoung. What the hell did she say to him? The breath in your lungs became dense as the room became smaller. The deepest secret between the two of you had been revealed without your permission. A string of emotions rushed over you as you tried to find a way to escape this.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re...just friends. That’s it,” you stuttered timidly as you tried to play it off with nervous laughter. Taehyung didn’t look phased.

“If you wanted to be more, all you had to do was ask. I thought I was clear about that.” Then that’s when you started putting the pieces together. Did he think you just wanted to be his submissive? You couldn’t help but to laugh lightly - insulted.

“Taehyung, I’ve told you a thousand times. I don’t want to be your sub. I value our friendship far too much for that. I don’t know what your mother told you but I think you got the wrong idea. Don’t read too much into things.” Feeling the perfect opportunity as he loosened his grip, you removed your wrist from his hand. The fear of him feeling your heightened pulse made you retreat from his warm touch. Surely she said something subtle and he took it the wrong way. He’s suggested such a dom-sub relationship for years; no strings attached. It was a line you could never cross as you knew you would get attached and want more. A real relationship. Love.

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, but that’s not a line I can cross with you.” Your gaze into his eyes were soft - sincere. Rejecting his offer yet again to avoid a potential broken heart, it was the best solution. It had to be.

“So you’re not in love with me then,” Taehyung replied in a low, sultry tone. Your breath caught in your throat, your eyes widened in alarm. Shock got the best of you, making you drop your teacup causing it to shatter against the floor - the only sound that remained in the room besides your thoughts.

Fuck...

[clairedaring]

if you're hoping for joe 2.0 to get his 'revenge' in the second half of the series...

warning: mild novel spoilers (but also not really because i'm just discussing things that have been shown in the trailer)

i really think you should either drop the series or give up the hopes of a satisfying makjang revenge storyline in my stand-in instead of setting yourself up for disappointment. because that simply isn't the story that my stand-in is trying to tell.

so what is my stand-in about really?

well, for me i think its a romance tragicomedy drama about an idiotic scum male lead losing the person he loves most because of his own arrogance and refusal to listen to his heart and the series of unfortunate events that happened consequently for our protagonist who was living a peaceful and quiet life as a stunt actor before the scum male lead entered his life.

joe 2.0 and his approach to life

i've mentioned it twice now that one of my favorite traits of joe/zhou xiang is that kindness in his strength where even if he can be choose to be mean or cruel, he simply doesn't because he has such a soft heart and he's weak to see others in pain (joe is my fellow enfp people pleaser okay) (⁠っ⁠˘̩⁠╭⁠╮⁠˘̩⁠)⁠っ which is why even in his 2.0 life, you won't get to see joe turning 180 degree and going around to hurt everyone who's ever hurt him like it's some makjang kdrama.

and while that seems like it could be fun, i think the reason why i loved professional body double (my stand-in novel) so much in the first place is because that very distinction between joe and other rebirth/second chance at life protagonists that you often see in revenge kdramas/cdramas/thai lakorns.

logically, if my stand-in was a 24-episode one31 lakorn/thai soap opera, joe would be full of hatred and burning rage after his rebirth and started his intricated revenge plot while still falling in love with ming whom he should hate the most.

and yet he isn't (or at least it seems to me so far).

if you read the lyrics 'Die For You' - the opening ost of my stand-in, i think you can have a good guess of what the second half of the story will be like.

Even running away to death can't help. If my heart had chosen to stop at you I'll have to surrender with the confusion I feel. To come back to the same old place. Even if I have to die, disappear and then be reborn But the love is still buried deep inside, even if it's been shattered into pieces Even if my life ends, I can't stop my heart from calling out to you Because this whole body, life, spirit It is yours only, for all eternity.

and even from the trailer of my stand-in, you can tell that joe 2.0 has a lot of internal conflicting feelings about whether he could trust ming again after the betrayal he faced in his 1.0 life. and i feel like essentially the journey of ming proving to joe 2.0 that he really does love joe is very much the central plot in the second half part of the story.

so i'd like to take this part to note how well the series has done to adapt the novel so far. i think a good adapted change they've made is this early realization of feelings for ming in the joe 1.0 timeline. i do think the novel made him realized his feelings a little bit later but my stand-in did well to show within ep.3 what happiness could have looked like for joe 1.0 and ming and i think it rationalizes a bit more more for why joe 2.0 would still have feelings for ming 'buried deep inside' even when he's been badly hurt the first time around. and reading the story i've always found it interesting that they took this route to focus on the re-entangled complex relationship between mingjoe rather than going for a joe-centric revenge makjang plot (i swear if this was your typical thai lakorn, joe would seduce ming while planning to take down his whole family or something).

of course, that's not to dismiss that there's a lot of character growth for joe in the second half of the story, especially in his building of self-confidence, self-worth, the ability to put himself first and the fight for his own happiness above all. but like i've mentioned above, his growth journey is not at the expense of a drastic personality change in regards to the kind hearted joe we saw in his 1.0 life. instead, we get kind hearted joe 2.0 who quickly adapts to his new life and attempts to start anew while conflicted feelings resurface for him as he is pulled back into the relationships he once had.

all in all, my stand-in is still at the heart of it, a love story. perhaps, a dark romance as my friend @dragonsandphoenix would call it, but a romance nonetheless. i think that is what also makes professional body double such a compelling read too, because the progression in the feelings and complex emotions of these characters are so tightly written that it's convincing enough for me (maybe not for others though) to believe that yan ming xiu has/will always love zhou xiang (to the point ymx would probably eliminate anyone else who dared to steal zx from him). obsessive love? yes. do they both need therapy? probably. yet i still believe in their happy ending? of course.

final note/disclaimer: then again, this is just my PERSONAL opinions based on the novel and up til 3 episodes of my stand-in (which seems to be very faithful to the novel so far), who knows maybe they can anger novel fans and adapt it completely differently later on (something i sure hope they don't but we'll seeeee) ƪ(˘⌣˘)ʃ

[lenoraslament]

Tom Riddle x Y.N.

Hot Mess Part 1

2.8k words, angst/romance

You’re the resident Slytherin party girl, known for getting wasted with your best friend Mattheo and dancing on tables. Mattheo’s older brother Tom thinks you’re a joke, until you show him that playing with fire can be fun and he learns not to underestimate you.

Part 2

(Trigger warning: language, some mentions of drug use. Some sexual tension)

“Are you fucking deaf?” You see his sneer before you hear his words

“Excuse me?” You say only responding to the knit in his brow and the downturn of his lips.

“Are you fucking deaf, we’re up” Tom Riddle hisses at you under his breath.

Of course he makes sure only you hear it, as the perfect head boy holds out his hand. It’s an insincere gesture, you may be friends with his brother but neither of you can stand the other. You were a little bit of a mess, and Tom hates mess.

You disregard his hand, as if he was holding a frog out for you to take. You didn’t hear them call your name in dueling class, you could hardly focus.

Last night you and spent the better part of the evening taking shots with Mattheo until the room began to spin. In the morning your head felt cracked open, remnants of your braincells spilling out along with your ability to hear apparently.

You had sunglasses on, the light spilling in from the skylight was too much to bear. Before you slunk into the class, you had doubled over in the bathroom heaving in what some may consider to be ‘an unladylike manner’.

Your only salvation was a piece of peppermint gum you begged Pansy for. It helped, you felt a little bit of strength returned to you.

Enzo flanked your side giving you nervous look as your name was called with Tom’s. He was the top in the class. You didn’t seem as bothered as him, because you were closely following behind him. Most classes you barely skidded by, showing little promise besides charming the professors for a bump up in your grade.

Dueling however, you have a true knack for. Whether it was skill or your temper that fueled your abilities didn’t matter. You were good.

Enzo gave you a hand up the dueling platform, professor Fig approving of his own appointment of opponents. You were his favorite student and Tom was his strongest student.

You raise your wand to the ready when Fig stopped you.

“Are you going to spit out your gum Y/N?”

“Wasn’t planning on it .”

“And your sunglasses?”

“Nope”

The class erupted into laughter, it was a mix of amusement at your overconfidence and excitement to watch you be crushed by their favorite head boy.

Little did they know you had a plan. You had been watching him for a month in class. He was capable but formal. He followed the rules, every flick of the wand perfectly placed, every spell enunciated loudly and clearly.

To the naked eye. It didn’t take you long to realize that he was secretly casting Legilimens and reading his opponents mind. He was anticipating their every move. When you found out, you were so tempted to turn him in. Let him be found out so his perfect reputation would be tarnish. But then you decided humbling him was a much more satisfying route to take.

“Wands at the ready.”

You lifted your wand as he stared at himself in the reflection of your sunglasses, you blow a bubble pop your gum in his face just to piss him off.

“Disgusting creature” he scowled at you as you smirked letting the bubble pop onto your lips.

Don’t think just do. You warned yourself as you took strides away.

You both turned, he immediately cast as you caught. Then again. You only protected yourself from hits as he went at you a little harder than in most duels.

You felt the tiny needleprick in your head and you knew he was trying to read your mind. Even hungover you were able to occlude pretty decently since you anticipated his intrusion.

Two could play at this game you dirty cheater. You let that thought float to the top of his head.

Across the platform you saw a quick flash of shock on his face.

As you defended yourself you did the most difficult magical maneuver you had ever attempted. You held your occlusion while casting a wordless spell.

Expelliarmus you focused and to your excitement his wand flew and clattered. Everyone in the class grew quiet.

“Drop your wand riddle?” You ask smiling,”how clumsy of you”

For a split second the rage that registered in his face took your breath away. Then he smiled the charming smile that had every other girl in school staring at him with dreamy eyes.

“Well Miss Y/N, no need to brag, I know when I’ve been bested” his voice was so gracious and polite. His face almost beseeching. You knew better though.

After class you headed for your dorm in Slytherin, the hangover was intensified by the exhaustion of using wandless magic and occluding. On a regular day it would have tired you but now you felt absolutely spent. Tom cut you off in the common room.

“Get over here you little bitch” he said in a low tone dragging you by the arm to a corner where no one could witness his rage.

“How?” He towered over you, his handsome features darkened by anger and the shadows of the corner of the room.

You tipped your sunglasses onto your head and gave him a delicious grin.

“Oh I don’t know a thing you’re talking about Tom. No need to be a sore loser” you say your voice dipped with honey.

He yanked your arm so hard you know you’ll have bruises. You reach for your wand ready to duel him again or stab it in his eye you aren’t sure. Then Mattheo comes up.

“What gives?” He asks his brother, standing nearly between the two of you.

Tom releases your arm roughly and looks at Mattheo whose eyes are challenging him.

“Your little girlfriend was being a cheating twat in class” he snapped under his breath.

You glared at him,”me?”

Just as Mattheo puts his hand on Tom’s shoulder to mutter some sort of taming words you cut in

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

Mattheo looks over his shoulder and rolls his eyes at you.

Tom raises his eyebrow watching for Mattheo’s reaction

Mattheo is unphased. Any feelings he may have had for you vanished in year 3 when you became friends.

“She’s not worth it Tom,” Mattheo said,”right?”

His words are low and soft, calm and ready. He truly is the opposite of his cold, angry big brother.

“Hey!” You protest at the insult but Mattheo lifts his hand to shut you up and for once you do. Tom’s lips curl up into a smirk, the insult enough to tide his anger. For now.

“She is certainly not” Tom says as he walks away without as much as another glance your way.

As he does Mattheo lets out long breath of relief, his smile when he turns to you is devilish

“So I heard you bested my brother at a duel,”he is nearly giddy and it makes you laugh

“Utterly destroyed him,” you crack a smile that turns into a yawn. Finally solace awaits you in your dorm room where you fall asleep for hours.

Tom Riddle picked up a book on his desk and slammed it back down.

You had pissed him off so much, he couldn’t even study. It had been two years since he had lost a duel. To lose to you was beyond his belief.

Stupid. Vapid. Whore.

The words spinning in his head making his chest tighten. The image of you in your sunglasses, popping your gum onto your lipgloss was enough to make him throw the book at the wall of his dorm. He wanted to go curse you. His brothers stupid best friend who he never took seriously.

You barely skated by in your classes, you were popular, a party girl. If it wasn’t for your looks he was sure you wouldn’t have even registered on his radar.

He had to admit he liked watching you duel in class. The fiery way your temper overtook all sense of reason shilling out charms to quickly that you never even had to use a defensive charm.

Today was different, he thought. You had been cold, calculated, you had been watching him. The idea disturbed him deeply. The idea of someone as shallow and insipid as you studying him.

He of course, would now have to return the favor. He needed to know how a hungover mess like yourself manage to occlude and cast a wandless spell. Impossible.

It was after dinner when he saw you stumble out of your dorm in a pair of tiny pajama shorts and a ratty old t shirt. You sat next to Enzo where he and Theo were talking.

Tom was in an armchair across from them reading, hardly listening. Waiting.

He watched as you reached over and grabbed the bag of chips that Enzo was eating stuffing your mouth full and complaining about missing dinner.

“Finally sleep off that hangover?” Theo teased and you threw a chip at him.

Your eyes shift over to Tom who you can see is glaring at you in the corner of his eye.

“What can I say” she start smirking at him,”victory wipes me out”.

Tom’s eyes shift back down to his book,”Getting blackout drunk on a Wednesday is what wipes you out Y/N” he snaps.

Enzo sheepishly smiles at you both, always the peacekeeper.

“Speaking of getting black out drunk, what time are we getting bottles for the party on Saturday?”

You roll your eyes, “Draco is just sending his elf, I’m not worried about it”.

Tom put his book down,”party this weekend?”

You almost laugh, you hardly saw him at parties. Only to pick up one of his fan girls with a charming smile and quickly take them back to his room. You couldn’t count how many times you saw those same girls crying the next day. Heartbroken when he kicked them out the next morning in a hasty fashion.

“Yes in the common room” Enzo answered him eagerly.

“If you weren’t such a loser you would know” you added as the other guys shook their head at your aggressive words.

Tom quickly dipped into your mind, ‘god I hope he doesn’t go’ you lamented to yourself.

This made him grin as you immediately glared at him feeling the small pinprick in your head sending a thought to the top as you tried to occlude.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD FUCKFACE” the thought practically screamed making him jump in his seat.

You both shared a look. Dripping in resentment.

Theo tugged the back of your hair,”wanna go smoke?”

You nod and scurry away with Enzo following Theo so he can help you get high enough to suppress the rage that Tom makes you feel.

Saturday comes too slow for Tom’s liking.

Although he is rife with anticipation, he doesn’t even bother to leave his room until close to midnight. The common room is thumping with the sound of music heavy with bass. The room is heady with the mixed smell of cologne, perfume, sweat and alcohol.

His arrival prompted the hungry eyes of many girls he hoped to avoid but a couple did swarm.

He politely grinned at them even throwing a wink as he scanned the room of writhing bodies around the dance floor looking for you. Some girl handed him a glass of bourbon, he sits down on a lounge chair as she saddles next to him. He sips and ignores her chatter, finally he spots you.

You stood on a coffee table, swaying your hips side to side to the rhythm of the music. You are saddled by Enzo and Mattheo. Mattheo has his hands loosely on the hips of a blonde Ravenclaw as he danced. Enzo’s fingers are clutching into your waist, his head is bent forward muttering something in your ear to tempt you but you only laugh.

Tom makes note of your tight, short dress and strappy heels. Such a tawdry display seemed to be held onto your body by just sweat and body glitter. He surveys heavy eyelids and parted lips instantly aware that you are not only tipsy but also must have smoked a joint beforehand.

Theo hands his blunt over to Mattheo, he lifts you by the waist sitting you on the bar top table.

You’re distracted pouring salt on the crook between your thumb and pointer finger. Mattheo takes a hit as he pours a shot glass of tequila handing it to you. You place it between your breasts easily.

“Gonna be a good girl for me Bella?” Theo asks with a smirk.

You roll your eyes before he sticks the lime in your mouth, “you know the only reason I let you do this is because I get to smack you right?”

Theo and Mattheo both laugh as Theo roughly shoves the lime between your lips. He licks the salt off your hand before shoving his face between your breasts making you roll your eyes. You draw your hand back and smack him just hard enough to make him laugh.

He delicately takes the lime from your lips with his teeth but you draw back only letting his lips brush against yours. Theo is forever unphased, picking the joint out of Mattheos fingers and taking a hit.

Tom watches this exchange greedily, with curiosity. He feels a hand on his thigh, and turns to see the little yappy girl smiling at him. He takes her chin in his hand and lets his lips fall on her ear.

“Go get me another drink darling” he says softly. She looks as if under a spell as she smiles eagerly and nods her head.

Tom stands up to lose her and heads over to where you sit. Enzo remaining hopeful, is begging to take a body shot.

“You know I can’t slap you Enz,”you tease,”you’re too cute”.

His eyes look up at you hungrily,”then don’t. Just let me take it”.

You tut and grin,”that’s against the rules”.

“What are the rules?” You nearly jump at the sight and sound of Tom. Although he’s been observing you half the night, you only barely become aware of his presence.

You stick your tongue in your cheek as you observe his appearance. You’re so drunk, so damn drunk, but you knew even sober he was fucking hot. His dark button down and slacks fit him perfectly. His stupid perfect hair and dark eyes. Your eyes drift down, making him smirk.

“You can only take a body shot if I get to slap you,”you mutter.

He grins and nearly shoves a protesting Enzo to the side.

“Show me”.

You raise your brow, doubting he would go through with it.

“I wouldn’t want to cause damage to your only redeemable quality” you tease squeezing his face.

He shoves your hand away and looked at Mattheo to pour the shot. He hands you the lime and watches as you lick your hand and salt it.

Mattheo nervously gives you a full shot of tequila observing as you and Tom lock in a glare.

Tom’s hands roughly dig into your thighs pulling you down the table closer to him as you let out a muffled noise against the lime in protest.

He snatches your wrist fingers pressing into your pulse point. His eyes keep yours as he licks the salt from your hand flicking his tongue.

If your mouth wasn’t full, you would have gasped. His hands squeeze your thighs again as he takes the shot from between your breasts, taking his time before tipping the glass into his mouth.

Theo, Enzo and Mattheo watch as they swim in horror and amusement.

You draw your hand back and slap him so hard his face goes to the side. It rings. Everyone around you is watching the show now. Crazy Y/N smacking the ever living magic out of Tom Riddle.

His hand snakes up and tugs the back of your hair pushing your face forward. In shock you drop the lime and instead feel his tongue plunge in your mouth. He kisses you roughly, leaving you breathless and biting your lip hard before he draws away nearly shoving your head back.

You push him away with your leg in frustration. God I hate him. But your mouth is still buzzing with the kiss. Theo and Mattheo are laughing at the two of you. Enzo is forlorn as he goes to hook up with another girl to get his mind off things.

You hop off the table to take a shot of your own but Tom lingers.

“Do I get to slap you next,” he teased with a grin.

“Only if you want my heel in your face” you snap back.

“Are you going to pretend you didn’t like it?” He stands so close his chest it on your arm

“I’m going to pretend it never happened, suck it easy Riddle,” your words are slurred but angry, “not if the entire magical race depended on it”.

He leans over so his breath tickles your ear,”I don’t like sluts anyway”. You both stare at each other, eyes burning in pure hatred. For a moment he falters, his eyes draw down and land on your lips. Even in your drunken stupor the tension send a little shiver down your spine. Tentatively you begin to lean forward. At your movement he draws back quickly, as if you were fire, leaving you wanting.

You watch as he leaves, grabbing the arm of some girl who happily followed him and they walk out of the party.

Part 2 here

[p1nk-matter]

shiggy fluff cause he deserves all the love // inspired by @aslutforfictionalmen's post (here's my interpretation, i also spontaneously wrote this @/3am so his quirk may have been erased not his trauma tho)

‘’There is no reason to be wearing that.’’ You laugh as you look at him.

Tenko in a suit has to be the funniest thing you’ve ever seen. ‘’It's just a drive-in movie theater.’’ You tease and he scoffs.

‘’Yeah well I can’t win, can I? Tracksuits are too casual, I remind you of a busker, remember? And what’s wrong with that by the way, you wish you had their talent–’’

‘’Enough, we’re running late.’’ You cut him off but can’t hide your smile when he’s all annoyed lecturing you in a fucking suit.

The movie chosen was cliché, borderline comical especially when you’re accompanied by a tall man with questionable appearance. How you even convinced him to join you is beyond comprehension, most likely because you promised him to play Nintendo Switch, his latest obsession. You’d play with him regardless, a man with a childhood lost, robbed from things you experienced firsthand at a younger age but Tenko couldn’t really see it. You on the other hand recognized it, and through small acts (annoying as such because for some inexplicable reason he always lost to you) you showed him everything he’d missed.

‘’I wrote you 365 letters. I wrote you everyday for a year!’’

Ryan Gosling says as you feel a hand squeeze yours tightly, shoulders touching as the night sky glows above the projector. You turn to look at him confused, The Notebook was one of those films you’d seen a million times, failing to evoke powerful emotions after some time but it was still a very satisfying rewatch. Tenko turns his head.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ You say, anxious he might be having another panic attack. You knew how to calm him down but never the extent of it and that scared you.

‘’It’s nothing’’ He whispers, his voice is composed, you note, good.

‘’Yes... it wasn't over, it still isn't over..’’ Gosling continues.

‘’Can you believe he wrote to her all this time? This is so fucking cruel!’’ he almost shouts, as a couple of heads turn to look at him annoyed.

‘’Oh my god, are you crying over the movie right now?’’ You want to burst out laughing but the stares warn you otherwise, both your tones too loud. You can’t believe what a sucker for romance he is, he always acts all tough but ends up being hungry for love anywhere he can find it. You kind of get it, it also kind of breaks your heart.

‘’I’m so posting this.’’ You tease as he wipes his eyes clean with a tissue he had in his pocket.

‘’I swear to god if you don’t shut the fuck up.’’ His voice is shaky but his eyes are glued to the scene, anxious for what’s coming next. Will they make up? Maybe even make out, have sex? Poor him, he’s unprepared for the bittersweet end.

-

The drive back home is silent, you take it he’s still thinking about the film, contemplating its ending, unsure whether he likes it or not.

‘’Sooo.. did you like it?’’

‘’It was okay.’’ He feigns indifference and you don’t continue. You allow him to ponder before speaking up, he almost always adds something on his own.

‘’I just think it’s funny she married the other guy, you know.’’ He says.

‘’What was she supposed to do? She didn’t know about the letters, remember?’’

‘’Still, if she really loved him, she should’ve waited, should’ve been alone, grieved on her own. How could she do this?’’ He asks as you sigh.

‘’It’s just a film and people make mistakes. You never know until you tell them.’’

This time he doesn’t continue.

-

‘’So what do you want to do?’’ You ask once you’ve arrived home, it’s already past midnight but both of you are too lively for sleep.

‘’You promised Nintendo.’’ He reminds you and you sigh. Not your favorite part of the day but you silently take a seat next to him on the couch.

3 rounds of Mario Kart racing on the Nintendo Switch and Tenko is losing consecutively as he whines frustrated: ‘’Enough!’’

‘’I just don’t understand why you’re always losing.’’ You tell him, as far as you know he was unlocking the game levels with ease on his own.

‘’I don’t know, shit, you ask way too many questions today’’ he complains, ‘’I’ll go change, this suit is itching the fuck out of me’’ he continues as you get up.

He finds you scrolling on your phone, a towel wrapped around him, droplets falling from his hair, which he must’ve aggressively ruffled (in failed efforts to dry) as he literally drops his body onto yours, scaring you and making you drop your phone.

‘’Tenko, fuck agh!’’ You groan, ‘’my phone!’’

He was so annoying and on top of that soaking your shirt too.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He smiles, he wasn’t really sorry, he missed you, he thought. Even though you were together the whole day, he still missed you. So much. He couldn’t get enough of you, any moment shared only made him more anxious for your next departure, he wished he could somehow glue you to his skin forever.

You playfully slapped his arm and he retaliated, pinching your nose as you pouted.

‘’Don’t pout.’’ He warns, ‘’I'll bite you.’’ But you don’t listen. He brings his mouth to yours as his teeth sink in your lower lip, pulling at it and letting it out softly.

‘’Ouch, you douche!’’ You fake pain but he knows he didn’t actually hurt you, he could never.

There was a moment where neither of you did anything, must’ve been less than a minute, before he leaned closer, mouths in close proximity as he noticed your eyes shut.

I want to kiss her, he thought and he did. Soft lips brought to yours, as you immediately kissed him back, cupping his wet neck and bringing his face even closer, deepening the kiss. His arms quivered, threatening to make him lose his balance and fall on top of you, he lost himself every time you kissed him.

His hand slid down your waist, positioning you higher on the couch as your hungry mouth searched for his again, needy breaths escaped your lips, a sight that made him feel the all too familiar pain in his groin, a towel was still draped around him and you were still in your outside clothes.

A peak across the room showed him the window curtains open.

‘’Give me a minute, baby.’’ He said as he got up to close them, returning to you with his arms stretched out, ready to move this somewhere more comfortable.

–

He was awakened by an asleep arm, your weight had fallen on it and he felt numb.

He gently tried to remove it but you moved around and whispered in a raspy voice, god, how much he loved that voice.

‘’What is it?’’ Your tone sounded anxious, were you afraid something was going to happen to him? Could it be that you cared that much?

Without a word he shushed you.

‘’It’s all right, go back to sleep.’’ He said moments later, a pain in his chest since he couldn’t tell you that actually yes, there was something on his mind.

‘’You know, you have to tell people how you feel, remember?’ You spoke so wisely, even after an interrupted slumber and he couldn't help but smile.

‘’I know baby, goodnight.’’ He said as you sighed and turned around.

For Tenko could not tell you that nothing compared to this, nothing like doing nothing with you and to admit this to himself was a big liability. He would tell you eventually, maybe he’d write it down, he found it easier, but on that day he chose to wrap his arms around you again, risking numbness, than to speak the words.

[y4n3on]

FESTIVAL'S BEGINNING

Ayato Aishi x Female reader

A Fluff romance.

It's 6:41 p.m. and (Y/n) is rushing to fix her makeup. Her concealer, makeup brushes, mascara, lipstick, and other makeup-related items were scattered in her bathroom sink. If anyone ever saw the mess she made, they might believe that by some miracle, the tornado just passed by in her bathroom. 

She created more mess on her face while rushing to fix the eyeliner that was smudged on her face. (Y/n) getting more and more frustrated, she decided to stop and take a deep breath to relax, (Y/n) became calmer and a little relaxed so she decided to finish her make-up while she was still in her calm demeanor to avoid herself to make more mess, it helped her a little bit but the worry she had remain, after half of an hour or so she's already done in her make-up. 

She double-checked her face in the mirror and smiled full of satisfaction, she did a victory punch in the air after successfully surviving the make-up battlefield that she had created in her head while doing it. (Y/n) after her successful survival had yet faced another battle, her bathroom sink (Y/n) glared at the mess and position herself in a cowboy move acting like she was in the wild west, "Okay partner, after that shit you've put me through, your dead". 

After dramatically leaving the bathroom clean 'I win' she thought for the moment as she wiped the invisible sweat on her forehead, she walked to her full body mirror and did a full body check, (y/n) was satisfied with her looks, she was wearing a pastel pink kimono with minimal flower pattern in the lower part of the kimono with the pairing geta sandals that matches that color and pattern, and with her simple make-up that fits the kimono she's wearing.

(Y/n) looked at her phone and found out she was already 30 minutes late, she cursed herself for taking a lot of time in the bathroom and doing a lot of drama, she quickly took up her mini sling bag and put her phone inside with her wallet in it, "BYE MOM!" she shouted after running outside the house leaving her mom without another word, (y/n) was running to the festival's location worried that her boyfriend was upset after her being late.

Ayato was waiting at the entrance of the festival, staring at his phone. It had been nearly an hour since their scheduled meeting time, and he was growing worried and anxious for his girlfriend. He had been waiting for almost one hour before their final meeting time, he was excited to be going to his first festival with his only love. 

Ayato debated whether or not to call her since he didn't want to rush or irritate her and risk having her break up with him. In his mind, he ran through different kinds of scenarios, from him being forgotten to her being in danger and needing to be saved.

Ayato took a deep breath 'She's supposed to be here already, did she forget? No, it's impossible she was so excited about the festival.' Ayato's eyes widen from his new thoughts 'Did she get kidnapped?' Ayato's start's heart beating so fast, his eyes went dead, and thoughts of her crying, begging, and asking for help ran through his head. 

Ayato quickly dialed her number and called her. He put the phone to his ear and waited for her to pick up. "(Y/N) WHERE ARE YOU? ARE YOU OK? DID SOMETHING HAPPEN TO YOU?" he bombarded her with questions as his eyes widened when he heard her panting and running.

Ayato didn't wait for her to respond and was about to run after her when he saw a girl wearing a pastel pink kimono running with her right hand holding her phone to her ear. He could see her eyes widen and the hand holding the phone rise to wave at him from a distance.

Ayato stopped and turned to face the girl coming toward him. His eyes widened as his worry faded away at the sight of her and was replaced by admiration for her messy appearance and smile. This made his heart beat quicker, but for a different reason, it seemed as though everything had stopped around him and all he could see was the girl coming toward him, getting closer and closer.

Ayato stared at her in awe as she stopped in front of him, her hands resting on her knees as she took a break from her running. He waited for her to catch her breath before (Y/n) stood up in front of him, holding her bag in one hand and her phone in the other, her hair a little messy and a smile beaming towards him.

"Ayato sorry for being late it took me a long time to fix myself I hope you forgive me." (Y/n)'s faced him with worry, especially receiving a call from him full of worry while she was running towards the entrance of the festival venue "Not at all, I thought something happen to you on the way here?" Ayato smiled to reassure her.

(Y/n) sigh in relief when she heard him "How long have you been here anyway?" she asked while looking at him in the eyes, Ayato smiled at her and lifted his hand to start fixing her messy hair "Don't worry it's not that long." Ayato said in his soft voice, after he finished fixing her hair, he cupped her cheeks gave her a quick peck, and smiled at her again.

"Very vague? but fine." she looked at his appearance seeing him wearing a very plain white shirt with black pants, (Y/n) Sweat dropped on his appearance " Ayato?" he looked at her with worry "Yes?" "So why are you not wearing a Yukata or a Kimono?" (Y/n) looked at him, hands on the side of her hips.

"Do I have to? I don't think I need to wear one?" looking at her smiling. She pouted at him, "You know that's not what I meant." as he took her hands and rubbed his thumb on her palm. He gave her an angelic laugh and smile, saying, "Sorry about that, I just didn't think of wearing one."

He continued to smile, "Sheesh, where's your festival spirit? Well, it doesn't matter anyway" As (y/n) sighed in acceptance wrapped her arms around his arm, and smiled at him.

"So what do you want to do Ayato?" It was just the beginning of their first festival without the care of other people around them looking with full of admiration and envy at the entrance of the festival.

LET'S GO! Another Ayato Aishi x Female reader if you had any suggestions or request I'll be happy to receive them i could only write story about I'm familiar with if you like to suggest please give me the theme and concept of your suggestions

Anime: Bnha, Saiki k., Ouran highschool host club,

Game: yandere simulator, Genshin impact, Honkai star rail, Tears of themis

These are the game and anime im very familiar with so try suggesting about them and i only do male characters so sorry to disappoint others.

SEE YOU NEXT FUTURE POST

[luc-obsession]

Kept

No matter how many bracelets and dresses Diluc bought for you, you still winced from his touch.

Wiped away his kisses when you thought he wasn’t looking.

Dove under your covers whenever he came to check on you.

Diluc couldn’t spoil you into returning his affection.

So he sat in his office chair as he rethought his strategy.

He’d confessed to you days after he stole you from the wild, your lifeblood.

Diluc saw what he did as a necessary evil, but to you, this was unforgivable treason.

Trying to buy your desire was the wrong approach. No, he should cater to your needs instead.

By becoming one of them.

If you and him mutually depended on each other, then it would be impossible for you to leave. Or even want to.

You already needed him financially; your commission money had long stopped rolling in.

But he wanted your heart to rely on him, too.

To replace your longing for the leaves with his touch. To take the wind’s spot in your heart with his firm voice. To make you savor the scent of his cologne instead of the forest’s flowers.

He was no longer satisfied with being your lover; he wanted to become your compulsion.

Inside his mind, another plan began to take shape.

. . .

Diluc began to come to your room more often. At first, just to wake you. Then, to bring your meals. Eventually, he brought your gifts, which were a lot different than before.

Your pearl necklaces were now love lockets. He brought you colognes with oddly familiar notes. Your fantasy novels were slowly overtaken by the fresh stacks of romance ones he bought.

He was determined to dominate your headspace. To influence you into loving him, whether you wanted to or not.

In weeks’ time, he’d fully replaced his maids in your life. They still helped him, of course, but as far as you were concerned, they didn’t exist.

It was much harder to ignore a generous, active lover who came to you every hour.

Just as it was much harder to resent someone who constantly chipped at your walls of scorn.

. . .

After Diluc hugged you goodbye and left, you peeked out the window. To see if some Fatui had ambushed him yet, obviously. Maybe then you could see the outside world again.

It was odd. You thought Diluc was a good friend, but he turned out to be a creep. A really possessive one at that.

It was nice to have free food and clothes, but that didn’t matter when you couldn’t spend any time outside.

Still, you walked back to your room as you picked up your love story, back where you left off.

Reading about those characters running through the lush grass of Chinju Forest wasn’t quite the same as being there, but it was close enough.

Sometimes, you'd replace the characters in those books with yourself and Diluc. If he were less restrictive, less controlling, then it could’ve been a dream.

You could’ve loved him, had he kept things the same as before, and confessed. Unfortunately, that wasn’t how things turned out.

So now you sat here on your warm bed, trailing the words on the page.

Everything reminded you of Diluc. The male protagonist’s height, the necklace with his name that hung around your neck, and the door in front of you.

As soon as you’d forgotten about him, he’d show up again, holding something that took either a lot of time or a lot of money.

You wanted to forget the overbearing redhead. But he wouldn’t let you. The more you stuffed those thoughts of him away, the more they’d find some way to creep back.

Your captor had no place in your heart, but he’d taken up every square inch of your mind.

He’d already won, but you couldn’t let him know that. Not if you wanted to keep the little space you had from him left.

[piosplayhouse]

I was thinking about Maigu ridge yesterday and my controversial opinion that I do genuinely and objectively think it's the best climax of the three mxtx series despite not enjoying reading the scene. I think what makes it so special is that as opposed to the other climaxes, sv builds up a sense of gradual dread towards it from the very beginning. You know it's going to happen. Shen Yuan tells you: luo binghe merges the realms at the end of the story, this is an unavoidable fact of the canon. But as things start to go to shit and the plot signs are pointing towards it actually happening what once was a somewhat reassuring expectation that you know what's going to happen turns into an inevitable dread that you're desperately hoping is shifted off course before it's too late.

And then sv hits you with the second aspect of Maigu ridge that it's been slowly getting you to dread: the story always ends in sex. That's how things are fixed. Whether the characters want it or not, the genre formula says sex crowns all. That's just how both PIDW and romance works. So there's this horrific reversal of expectations as you're watching all of these things go to shit, and a sense of futility connecting you to sqq as you both know there's only one way the story's going to be able to end, no matter how much else has been changed throughout the narrative. And then rather than granting you any kind of reprieve with the scene itself, that maybe somehow it'll all be fixed easily in the last minute, the climax is viscerally horrific and messy and wildly uncomfortable to sit though. It's like it's sitting you down to say here, this is the type of story you buckled in to read, here's how it will happen. You're rewarded this farce of a conclusion that by all accounts should have been satisfying, but all of the illusion has been stripped out of it until there's just a deep unease left.

[vampyrcigs]

May i request an Alucard hellsing x male reader please? anything would be perfect

Male Reader with Obsessed Alucard Headcanons

🦇 ‧₊˚⊹ Took me a bit since I was thinking of what to write-

🦇 ‧₊˚⊹ References to smut but none is actually there. A bit short, but whatever.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Whether you notice or not, Alucard is always observing you. Alucard has eyes on you constantly, you can barely get a moment alone without him listening in. It’s especially bad at night or when he’s on missions. The feeling of being watched will never cease no matter what, no matter how far apart either of you are.

One thing that most definitely won’t change is that, no matter what, you belong to this monster. As much as Alucard lets you run off and do your own thing in the morning, with him watching of course, at the end of the day you’re his. If he feels like something’s off, he’s at your side in a second, grinning over your shoulder as he peered at the cause of your unease. Whether he’s turned you or not, you’re already set as his territory, his.

Expect to never walk around with your neck clean. This man will never let you walk around with your neck untouched. He can’t help but drag his teeth down the side of your neck, grazing his sharp fangs over your soft neck. And…well now you have marks all over you neck. If he notices your marks fading, he’ll drag you somewhere private and do it all over again. And if that doesn’t leave him satisfied…well, at least you won’t have to walk around with marks on your neck…

He never truly imagined he’d be this way with anyone. In all his centuries of living, he never thought it would be truly possible for someone to devote themselves to a monster like him, at least not in a loving way. The fact that you’re a male doesn’t phase him, especially since he never expected to receive love in the first place. But, of course, this monster will take everything you give him and give it back just as much. All the love you give him, he’ll give you more. He adores you so much that he almost doesn’t want to turn you. Almost doesn’t want to take that innocence away. Almost. But you wouldn’t mind if he went through with it, right?

Alucard’s touchiness varies. He tries to keep his hands to himself…sometimes. His touches are romantic and meaningful, like those seen in old romance shows. Placing a kiss on your hand as if you’re a maiden or keeping an arm locked around your waist whenever you’re around. His touches are more romantic than sexual, showcasing his love to you in a very gentlemen like way. He’ll pull you into his arms just to place a kiss on each of your fingers. His larger hand around your waist serving as a reminder of how drastic his touches can change when you’re alone.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

🦇 ‧₊˚⊹ Fin. Hope it’s to your liking my dear anon. ♡

🦇 ‧₊˚⊹ Def not proofread but it’s fine. My bad if it’s ass. ♡

🦇 ‧₊˚⊹ A bit of inspo from this lovely person here

materialist…in progress || request status…open || introduction

[alohaasaloevera]

guys I’m honestly happy that klance didn’t become canon because I love how as a collective group of people we utilize our right to explore what could have been and create the most smoking hot scenarios ever and yes I obviously wanted more of their friendship growing into this bond stronger than anything else in the universe especially since Voltron has teamwork and family as one of their main lessons but that’s more of a development issue all around…ok besides that there’s something about klance where it provides this PERFECT environment for shippers to inhabit and FEAST upon. With klance, there’s a solid, engaging dynamic between the two set up, which is this weird one-sided rivalry that stems from Lance’s insecurity and his need to prove himself of his worth and Keith literally being one of the best pilots for his age but since they’re flung into space and chosen to become child soldiers in this 10,000 year old intergalactic war so they have to work as a team which surprise surprise forces them to put aside their differences and work as a team which is shown a bunch when Keith needs to become a leader and Lance steps up as his right hand and and they have some kinda tender moments that won’t definitely drive shippers into a shipping craze (or worse) SO YEAH you could see why people loved it with all the classic tropes and mutual growth all that schmooze (ALSO THEY KNEW EACHOTHER BEFORE THE MAIN PLOT??? Well maybe not like friends or even acquaintances probably BUT HELLO?????? EVEN MORE SHIT TO EXPAND ON????), and they share multiple scenes that could be interpreted as romantic but there’s no explicit romance. This environment is fucking dripping drenched flash flooded cornered by 1000ft tsunamis in all directions with potential for shipping, so when people saw this relationship between two bros with this sort of homoerotic (IM JOKING. Kinda.) unresolved tension towards each other and the POTENTIAL for a good slow burn rivals to friends to lovers, it was to no one’s surprise that they went APESHIT. Klancers made countless different ways where they get together whether it be pre-Kerberos, post-gettingthefuckoutofearth, the start of the show, the end of the show, after the end of the show, right smack in the middle, anywhere, anytime, for who the fuck knows why just ANY REASON DAMN IT it doesn’t really matter because people were pumping out fanfiction or fan art or any fan media of klance faster than I spit out a raw baby carrot after chewing it for one second and now we’re all wallowing about how it should have been KICK but the thing is that if VLD did KICK all the way to Altea, the production of these beautiful stories that so many people have and still are coming up with about klance kissing in midst of a battle, helping each other with their crippling nightmares, smiling for the stars or some other sad premise, and whatever is nestled in his pulse…just like uhhh the amount of fics like these that go into great detail about Keith and Lance in these random situations that end up with them getting together being produced would go down to some degree because of the fact that if the people’s beloved sharpshooter and samurai had ended up together like we had wanted, and the majority was satisfied with the ending the creators had given, people would have shifted from writing about “How could Lance and Keith get together?” to writing about “What could Lance and Keith do now that they’re together?” And like. There’s nothing wrong with that honestly I would be HYPED if klance was ever canon but there is profound beauty in the way the community is able to create more from less and turn a show that went to shit in the last few seasons shine even brighter than it did at its prime. Like I wouldn’t trade my favorite fics 4 anything.

—

Ok another little thing I’m going to put here: With Klance, all I wanted was for them to be great friends 😭😭😭. I tend to prefer klance becoming canon in later seasons or at the end or even an open ending with no confirmed romantic relationships because I am a sucker for character development and the idea of Keith and Lance both harboring these feelings that at first are just admiration and respect but then escalate to yearning for one another or becoming close friends at the end of the show and getting to imagine anything I want post canon is EVERYTHING if you give me S7 Garrison klance I’ll keel over and thank you like I was a second away from dying of thirst and your gift was a truck load of water