#i was thinking about fic ideas but this would have needed too much setup | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iznsfw · 11 months

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was wondering if you ever thought about writing a taeyeon smut with breeding/squirting kink

Setup

Part Three of Dulce Periculum | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Girls Generation's Kim Taeyeon x Male Reader Smut

5,273 words

Categories | exactly what's in the ask: breeding and squirting, fingering, cunnilingus, light bondage, overstimulation, uniform sex, subbymommy!Taeyeon

Of course I thought about it! I would have written a hundred more fics for Taeng like I did with Eunbi if I weren't a lazy fuck LMAO This chapter is already barely edited!

Anyway, here's best girl. Please enjoy and await the next chapter ;)

"That was… something."

Eunbi's on your lap again, as she always is. It would be no surprise if it's become what she uses for everything now: a school chair, a backseat, everything. Her glasses are tilted to the side and her skirt is a bit too undone for suspicion to not be cast, for questions to not be said: “Why do you look tired?”; “Do you need a ride home?”; “Were you fucking Ms. Kim?”

Already she's forgotten about her earlier volleyball game loss, which is a good thing, you guess, since a disappointed frown no longer dimples her cute face. You'd rather have this Eunbi: a smiley one, clinging to you as if the two of you were magnetic forces that can't be separated without a fight, with her hair down and her body resting on yours.

Comfort. That's the word.

You've no idea how you look like, but from the way she's attending to you—brushing your messy hair with her fingers and easing the bruises on your neck with soft massages—you'd say you look pretty fucked up, in a word-for-word kind of way, And the blame is on Kim Taeyeon, certified freak in the sheets and a pretty awesome teacher besides all that.

("In the classroom" would be a more fitting phrase. She completely dominated you and your girlfriend as if she owned you, and it's safe to say that after that, she does. It's something you're more than happy to give in to.)

"Are you okay? You'll have to use makeup for this, oppa," coos Eunbi as she worriedly massages a hickey.

"My parents won't give a fuck, Eun. They'd be glad to know I'm getting laid."

She pushes her bottom lip out understandingly and nods.

"What about you?"

"Uhh," she thinks for a moment, "my parents wouldn't see—"

"No." Reword that: "What I meant is: are you okay?"

She beams. Pretty girl, pretty girl, pretty girl—that charming little smile dances in your mind like an act at a circus. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

"No, I mean, are you okay with the whole insult thing?" You push her lopsided glasses back on her nose. She kisses you appreciatively. "She called you… what? 'Naughty little girl'?"

"You can say I am," singsongs Eunbi as she toys with your uniform tie. Her smile is wider, a little more mischievous. God, what has Taeyeon done to her? "Right, oppa?"

"Whatever."

"What? You don't like it?" She's pouting, knowing how much that little downward quirk of her lips affects your heart. She curls her arms around your neck and drags her face closer to yours. The old Eunbi would have known better than to put on PDA in school, considering it goes against several student regulations, but she's starting to become a little more coy than usual. Her flushed cheeks tell you that she likes doing that for you, too.

"No, I do," you clarify, your hands sliding down to her tiny waist. "But I just want to, like, know if you're fine with everything. I mean, she likes to talk down on you, maybe even hurt your feelings while doing it. You sure it doesn't raise a red flag?"

"Oh, 'red flag'! Oppa keeps up with the lingo!"

Roll your eyes. Here we fucking go. "You know that I'm barely older than you, right?”

Eunbi giggles. She curls her little arms around you and pulls you close.

Taper your gaze south and you can see there are bruises on her shoulders, and a couple more on her thighs and legs that her skirt fails to hide. Hearing that cute laugh from her causes you to wonder if you're the problem. What did you do to Eunbi? What have you turned her into? A year or two back, she was just a cute little honor student with time in her packed schedule to allow for tutoring you. Now, she's constantly on your lap, as if it's her favorite seat, with the sweet smile on her face proving to be deceptive whenever she guides your hand up her skirt.

Do you like it? Fuck yeah. Do you feel just a little bit guilty for corrupting her? That's also a yes.

"I'm fine with it," says Eunbi softly. "More than okay."

Her eyes are serious, but hold a gentleness in them that makes you want to pull her down and kiss her, and not even sexually. It brings you at least some comfort to know that whatever you made her into, she actively participates and allows. It would be a whole different thing if it weren't that way.

"You sure?"

"Yes, my cute little oppa. Stop worrying about me." Eunbi kisses your nose again. "Let's go home?"

You look around. The covered court is empty, except for the remaining volleyball nets and confetti. The high school buildings are also silent. Taeyeon's car is gone from the driveway. Nobody is here but the two of you.

Has looking at your empty school always been this nostalgic? You used to view education as nothing but a filler and obstacle in your schedule, but being with Eunbi makes you look forward to the future. Having your arm around her as you walk to your locker and sitting with her during lunch has significantly brightened your day. Even your grades started to improve—maybe love is the answer all along?

As corny as it sounds, it might be.

Your satisfied grin is genuine. Picking up the small girl bridal-style, you take the long day head in full stride. "Let's go home, pretty girl."

“Why are you home so late?”

Eunbi’s mother squints suspiciously as the two of you enter her house. You’ve come over to visit your girlfriend’s family more times than you can count, but after being royally fucked over by Kim Taeyeon, you can barely look her in the eyes.

“Sorry, mommy– mom,” fumbles Eunbi. Her ears are red; the word sounds strange now after she’s used it on a woman twice her age, most especially if said woman’s her teacher. She shrugs off your arm and steps out of her school shoes. “We stopped by the gym.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say to support the statement, considering you didn’t know until Eunbi mentioned it that there’s a gym nearby. It’s time to bulk and lift, you guess.

You and Eunbi stand guiltily at the doorway of the Kwon household, heads hung like faultful puppies. How to deal with Mrs. Kwon after you fucked her daughter and a nymphomaniac professor wasn’t exactly written down in the boyfriend manual. That’s why your mouth has nothing to say, and your hands go nowhere but your pockets. It’s an awkward situation you wouldn’t wish on even the most horrible school rival.

“You had sex, didn’t you?”

The bold, no-bullshit question makes Eunbi’s ears burn. Flustered, she shakes her head more times than someone who isn’t guilty should. “No!” she denies, as if offended by the thought of it. “Mom, why would you say that?”

“Oh, come on,” Mrs. Kwon says, placing her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. Her smile is hilariously condescending. “I know you get stressed when I make you attend all those extracurriculars. My little girl needs some relief, too, just like her dad—”

Your eyes widen.

“Ew!” Eunbi rushes into your arms and places her hands on her ears. “Mom, stop, what the fuck!”

“No swearing!” scolds her mother as she skips over to the kitchen to make dinner, her day slightly better now that she’s fulfilled her duty as a parent to humiliate Eunbi. “Make sure to be on the pill, my silver rain! Mommy loves you so much!”

Eunbi’s hiding her face in her palms, pressing them hard on her cheeks that it’s started to mold to their shape. You, on the other hand, are cackling, You’re having the time of your fucking life, slapping your knees like an entry to Heaven depends on it. You can’t believe the strict Mrs. Kwon would be so straightforward about that. It’s certainly a break of character, and an embarrassing but welcome one.

Your girlfriend glares at you. “It’s not funny!” she whines, punching you in the shoulder. “Oppa, how can you even laugh about that?”

“I’m sorry, Eunbi—” Interrupted by your own laughs, you apologize profusely. Still, your eyes make half-moon crescents and your stomach starts to hurt from giggling. “I’m sorry, it’s just—it’s just—”

“Oppa!”

"What did she say, baby? Mommy loves you so much—"

“You’re so mean to me!”

“No, wait, wait, wait, you’re not going anywhere.” Sweep her into your arms again when the upset Eunbi turns around to leave. She mewls in protest, but you kiss her over and over, arms ribboned tight around her body. Your laughing lips start to feel numb with how much they’ve touched her pale, milky skin. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re not!”

Look down at Eunbi’s angry face and kiss her on the nose. That should work usually, but it seems like she’s really upset this time. “Oh, come on, baby,” you say. “I said I was sorry. What can I do to make you smile?”

Eunbi looks away like an upset bunny. It’s hard to keep a serious face when she’s too adorable even in times where she’s annoyed.

“Tell me,” you urge. “I promise I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“Bring my uniform to school,” says Eunbi, still refusing to look you in the eye. As she speaks, she unbuttons her blouse and slips out of her skirt, leaving her in nothing but a camisole and volleyball shorts. “We’re training again tomorrow and I don’t want to carry it in my bag. And quit staring at my chest, perv!”

“Sorry.” Close your eyes for a few seconds, then open them, as if doing so would chasten them. The next second, Eunbi’s uniform is in your arms. “Where do I put it?”

“Give them to Professor Kim.”

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re”—minimize your voice so Mrs. Kwon wouldn’t hear, just in case she'd been eavesdropping the whole time—”fucking her without me.”

“Oppa,” Eunbi interrupts. Her expression is suddenly serious. “Just do it, please?”

Oh, yeah, as weird as her request is, you don’t say no. If she's merely having your professor do her laundry or arranging a time for some one-on-one tutoring sessions, you take the clothes and take the trip. When Eunbi's upset, you transform into an overly nurturing father.

You almost told the school guard you’re there for boyfriend duties. He’s a friendly guy and would have understood if you actually said it, but you’re so irritated by having to drive all the way back to school that you don’t find it in you to crack jokes.

You meet Taeyeon in the faculty room. “Good afternoon, Professor,” you say, unsure if you should go on with the mommy thing.

Taeyeon is now dressed in a blouse layered with a brown fur sweater. Her beam is so different from the predatory smirk that was on her face earlier. “Good afternoon, pretty boy.” She looks down at Eunbi’s uniform. “What’s this?”

“Um.” You scratch the back of your neck, still flustered by Taeyeon’s coy remark. “Eunbi asked me to give it to you.”

“Ah, thank you. Would you check on me in three minutes, please?”

Another strange request from another beautiful woman. Trying not to look confused, you nod. “Uh, sure, Professor.”

Taeyeon kisses you on the cheek then brings the uniform with her to the bathroom.

You’re becoming more and more suspicious by the second. Everything falls into place a little too perfectly. Wasn’t Taeyeon’s car away from the driveway? If so, why is she here? Why did Eunbi ask you to bring her uniform, and what is your professor doing with them in the bathroom? You’re so close to figuring it out, but anytime you join the puzzle pieces together, they don’t make the right picture.

Three minutes pass anyway, and maybe it’s a wrong decision to knock on the faculty bathroom door, but you do, and—

"You're back, baby boy."

The door opens, as if it were an ominous curtain to one of the drama club's plays.

And the main character herself is in full costume: your teacher pushes her little weight onto the sink with one, practiced hand, dressed head to toe in the school uniform. It's not just any skirt and blouse she's donning—you come to realize that it’s the uniform you gave to her, that it actually belongs to Eunbi. With how slim she is, the uniform fits Taeyeon like a glove.

Her hair is perfectly messed up into brown falls of pillow-soft beauty. Her gaze falls nothing short of sultry, and so do the rest of her actions. Even the way she sets her hand on her hip is graceful. Each thing she does is designed to seduce you, and you'd be a filthy liar if you said it wasn't working.

Her name is all you can say. What else can you utter when she's completely stolen your breath? Locked it into her heart so that it could inhale nothing more than her desire and lust?

"I told you we weren't done yet, didn't I?" Taeyeon says. "And I always keep my word, especially for sweet baby boys like you."

"Mommy…" The title falls from your mouth seamlessly, as if it were a natural thing to say.

"You know," she goes on, suspense in each step as she approaches you, "I wasn't really satisfied with how you bred me. I wanted to really feel what your little girlfriend gets every night from you."

"Did you plan this?"

"You got me." Taeyeon pulls you close. She's smaller than you, but her dominance overpowers that. "Ms. Kwon wants me to feel good. She only wants the best cum for her mommy, and she chose you."

Ah, everything makes sense now. You should have known something was up when Eunbi smiled a little more cheekily, or when she remained on her phone during the ride home. How could you have let it happen right under your nose?

"So, won't you give mommy more, baby? Please?"

You think about it. You've got one of the hottest women you know standing in front of you with the sexiest uniform on. Is this really a chance you'd let slip?

No, but—

"Hands?"

Taeyeon nods immediately. It's as if she knows what you're about to do, so why is she surprised while you tug the uniform tie from her neck in one, swift pull?

Take her thin wrists after she turns around and bind them together with said tie. Taeyeon moans in excitement, even more so when you sweep her off her feet and place her onto the sink counter. The setting is less sexy than you want it to be, but you settle for it. What matters is what you do.

Part her legs and lift the lapels of the offending skirt out of the way. No panties; your teacher is truly the boldest.

Taeyeon's pussy is as ethereal as ever. Her thighs are slick from the wetness it exudes, and from that alone you can just tell that she's been fantasizing about having you fuck her for a while. When you glide your finger across the drenched slit, she whines loudly. Her back knocks at the bathroom mirror.

"Baby, please," she whispers. The plea written in her face is genuine. She tries, to the best of her bound ability, to squirm her hips in your direction. It's an unsuccessful attempt, needless to say. "I need you."

"What do you need, Taeyeon?" Yes, you're shedding the mommy formalities now, even going as far to call her by her first name. Calling her by her sexual title is absurd when you've got her fully under your control.

"Need your tongue."

She lifts her head high like she's reaching heaven due to your teasing kisses on her inner thighs. They draw the path to her soaked cunt, which clenches around thin air as it waits for you to put it out of its misery.

"A little more specific, please?"

"Need your mouth," whimpers Taeyeon. You're crossing uncharted waters now as you kiss around her folds. Her ecstasy is so close, yet so far. "Need your mouth on me. Need you to make me feel good, baby, please."

The watery look in her eyes convinces you to stop the foreplay. You hold Taeyeon's thighs and spread them apart, squeezing them as you go, then go for the kill.

"Ohhh!" With the tie around her wrists, Taeyeon can't hold onto anything but her own fingers to deal with your tongue. You make sure to drum it on her clit as you pump in a finger into her drenched hole. "Baby, oh my god, baby, that feels so good!"

Taeyeon's taste is one you'd remember forever. The tangy sweetness is addicting, and if you could keep your mouth on her pretty pussy forever, you would. For this reason, you serve rough, languid flicks with your tongue on her nub, and strengthen the force of your fingerfucking. With the combined pleasure, Taeyeon squeezes down so tightly that, if her wetness were nonexistent, it would be hard to move. It's lucky that each thrust draws out plenty of delicious nectar.

Taeyeon's thighs quiver as they try to keep themselves open. Her loud sighs fill your ears, and they turn into whiny cries when you brush your fingertips against a certain spot on her walls. Her lips are pursed, her stomach is tight, and her jaw is slack. She learned self-control as a teacher, especially when dealing with rowdy classes, but experience can't stop her incessant mewls.

"Baby, baby, baby," whimpers Taeyeon. "Please. Oh, oh my god, please, I need you."

"That's right, Taeyeon," you say. You lift your head to smirk at her, adding another finger. "You look so pretty when you're being a good girl."

Taeyeon gasps for composure as the praise leaves her more drenched. Your fingers aren't helping at all—they know each curve and spot that makes her writhe. When you've cornered her weaknesses and targeted them, her formal acts as a teacher go straight out of the window. In this school bathroom, she's no longer a teacher, she's not the one in control. Here, she's your good girl, and you'll lord it over her as much as you please.

Your digits curl. Taeyeon's back curves as her screams bounce off the tiled walls. You place a spare hand over her mouth. Her breaths hit your palm with the pleasant company of her broken moans.

"Keep quiet," you say, boring her down with your glare. Her eyes return a frenzied, lustful look. "There could still be people outside, you know. Wouldn't want them knowing how weak you can get for one of the delinquents, no?"

Taeyeon's folds swallow your fingers as they move, and when you finally get knuckle-deep inside her, they hold onto them and refuse to let it go. Therefore, you're forced to thrust bluntly, keeping the length of them inside her and reaching places that her slim ones can only dream of reaching.

She shakes her head. Her long toned legs start to kick wildly. You've seen that before, and you know what it means: she's about to cum. Hard.

She's chanting your name for the hundredth time. Lips pursed, eyes shut, she cries for more. You're a known rebel at school, but you choose this order as one you'd follow.

You place your mouth on her pussy again. As you stimulate the sensitive skin with daring licks and thrusts of your tongue, Taeyeon kicks and moans. She'd do so many things to you if her hands weren't tied: grab your head and pull it deeper between her legs, squeeze her own tits under her blouse, probably even try to wrestle for the upper hand. But she's left as another pretty girl who's yours to use, and for this time, you choose to assault her pink, soaked cunt with your mouth.

The hand that was on her mouth earlier is now firmly rubbing eights on her clit. Taeyeon's screams aren't muffled anymore, and as much as they're loud and deafening, you enjoy it. Who wouldn't when this woman, this forbidden bombshell of a woman, is looking down at you with breaths that quake like her thighs, and says, in a strangled whisper: "I'm going to… fuck, I'm gonna—"

You capture her clit in your lips and slide a third finger inside her.

Taeyeon screams.

Echoing wails of curses and blasphemy leave her open mouth. In everything you do, you do hard and fast. Taeyeon is struggling on the sink, trying to fight her way out of the tight school tie so that she can ride your tongue faster. The only thing she can do is close her thighs to keep you there.

"Baby, oh my god, oh!" Your teacher jerks her spasming core at your tongue, urging it inside her. Her pretty face is beet red. "Mommy's cumming, I can't– I can’t, please, I'm gonna squirt all over your face!"

A spurt of girl cum hits your chin. You slack your jaw to receive more of it in your mouth. You don't stop your frantic licking at her pearl which gets more of the unholy fluid spraying.

She tastes even better when she cums.

"Yes, that’s a good girl," you say. Replace your tongue with your fingertip to be able to drink from her. As her cum messily hoses in the air, you become a thirsted traveler hooking onto the last resort. You eat of her, you drink of her, you fuck her. "Cum for me. Make a mess like the slut you are. Be a good girl."

Tears run down Taeyeon's face. "Yes, please—hnnn, it's too much!"

Her bundle of nerves suffers rapid swiping that draws fire hydrant-like sprays from her. Her whole body is slithering and twitching erratically, yet you keep rubbing her. And you’re not stopping until her shaking legs are too weak to lift themselves and protest, or her throat becomes sore from screaming.

You keep that promise. “No, Taeyeon,” you murmur. Rubbing at her core, you smile down at her. “It’s not too much when you’re with me. I know you have more cum in that pretty cunt of yours, and I’m taking it all.”

It’s fascinating how she’s the one on the bottom now. This writhing, whimpering mess of a girl can’t be the same teacher who rules the classroom with an iron fist. But she is, and her change of personas doesn’t fail to amaze you as she cums and squirts even more. The tiles of the bathroom floor now bear a puddle on its surface, and the mirror reflects something other than Taeyeon’s back and your cruel grin.

Taeyeon’s breaths are accented by the lifts and rests of her tight midriff, seen under the uniform. “Please, baby,” she tells you. Her hips fly off the sink and land back on it as it tries to find a way in avoiding and giving in to your hand at the same time. “Baby, baby– baby, mommy can’t anymore.”

"Yes, you can. Keep cumming for me."

"I-I-I…. ahhh!"

Indeed, she cums more. What you thought would soon end with soft drops becomes a blast again. It's wearing Taeyeon out—her arms and legs are sedentary, and groans pronounce through her broken voice. You kiss her neck and collarbone while your finger does away with her pussy, pushing its limits and boundaries.

"God, you're such a good girl." You kiss the insides of her thighs. "That's it, you can do it. Just a bit more for me."

Her center flexes and squeezes to reach the peak of her orgasm. Taeyeon's sighs are loud and stammered, and you gently silence them with a kiss on her mouth. Her moans are sweet and tired, so you slow the rubbing up to the moment Taeyeon's legs stop quaking.

The aftershock halts. Taeyeon's head relies on the bathroom mirror for support.

"Mmm, oh fuck, baby boy, that felt so good."

"There's more where that came from, mommy."

"Oh, so now you're calling me that."

"Of course, unless…" You pause your careful touches on her legs. "You want me to stop?"

"No, please, don't stop!" Taeyeon shakes her head.

"Why not, mommy?"

"B-because…" she says, before making eye contact with you. Doing so causes her to stop.

Drum your fingers on her hip. "Yes?"

"'Cause I need you to use me, baby boy. I need you to make me cum again and fill my slutty mommy pussy with your load. Need you, need you to breed me, baby boy. That's all I want."

The most inarticulate sentences from Taeyeon make the most sense to you. When she's trying to fight her way out of the makeshift binds and whimpering even without contact with her skin, what else can be deduced? She's a needy woman, and you're the perfect guy to help her out.

What wouldn't you do to fill that pretty cunt? Her pleas are enough for you; you lift her off the sink and bend her over it instead. Can't resist being rough when she's biting her lip like that. Spank her.

"Gonna breed you, Taeyeon," you rasp. You squeeze her ass that peeks from the folds of her pleated skirt. "Gonna fill you up, and you're gonna take it all, won't you?"

Taeyeon nods, her breath long gone. "Yes, yes, please. Give it to me."

It only takes a few unzips and unbuckles for you to completely fill your teacher. Her whole body tenses up beautifully, and the mirror bounces back to you the image of her orgasmic face: eyelids shut, mouth contrastingly open.

"Fuck." Taeyeon bites her lip. "Just like that, b-baby, just keep going."

It's easy to propel yourself inside her when your hands are on her wrists bound behind her bent back. Her trapped fingers crawl and grasp on yours to deal with your anything-but-gentle violations of her pussy.

You propel pleasured expressions of bliss on her face that you can see on the mirror. You can barely see her irises while you fuck her. Must mean you're doing a good job rearranging her guts. You can feel her stomach when you thrust into her.

After feeling her nub for a while, you press on the bulge your shaft creates on her belly. "I'm gonna ruin you, Kim Taeyeon," you tell her, to which she whimpers softly in response. "I'm gonna put a fucking baby in your womb. Fill up this pretty pussy with my load. Do you want that?"

"Yes, yes, yesss," she drawls out. "Fucking breed me. Put that big cock to use, baby. I want it all."

"Oh, of course you do." Speed up, spreading her splayed pussy lips to force it into swallowing your whole shaft. Your cockhead knocks against her cervix, and it turns you on more than it should. "Asking your student for a uniform so you can look like a slutty little schoolgirl for me. If you want to be one, then I'm gonna treat you like one."

Spank her. Each blow from your hand on her clapping cheeks causes her cunt to hold your cock tighter. Her hole clenches and twitches as you abuse her ass, squeezing and slapping the soft flesh to hear her desperate, weak cries. This is the most disrespect you've given to a teacher, even if you're already a trouble child. Can't say you aren't enjoying each second that passes.

"Oh my god, yes!" Taeyeon squeals. In a sudden burst of energy, she fucks herself back on your cock, wanting you and everything but for your rod to stop impaling her. "Fuck me, baby, hurt me! Give me your cum!"

"Fucking cumslut. You'll get all of it."

Your fist ribbons around her hair and pulls back harshly. You kiss her neck and nibble on her earlobe. Your hot breath makes her legs tremble and her hands weaken in the restriction of the tie. She's submitting to you completely, allowing you to do as you please to her. What else can she do anyway, when she asked for it: for you to cum in her, to use her, to treat her like a toy?

Nothing. All she can do is receive your paced thrusts and spanks, be a good girl and bend her body over the sink for your cock to ruin. Never did she think she'd like to be used as much as she likes to use.

Once you've deemed her ass red enough, you switch your attention to her breasts. They're the perfect size to squeeze, and you do plenty of that once you realize her breasts are just as sensitive as Eunbi's. You pinch the nipples harshly, pulling on them to make her cry and rub them for her to squirm her legs together more. In everything you do, her pussy clamps tighter, and she's pushed closer and closer to an orgasm.

"P-please," she whispers weakly. "More, please, I'm so close."

"Promise me you'll take all of my cum." Pressure her into saying so through rubbing her clit. Her ass reverses into your crotch and her desirable body starts to spasm. "Promise me, baby."

"I'll take all of your cum!" Taeyeon sobs. Her voice is so loud that you're sure it passes through the bathroom door. "My tight little pussy will get all of your hot thick cum, I'll let you breed me! Just please make me cum!"

You bear her head down with one hand into the sink counter and fuck her like you mean it. All gentleness is lost now. You ravage her cunt as if you need to do so to live. Spread her velvety walls with your pumps. Let them remember the shape of your cock so that the next time you fuck her it contracts perfectly to your size. Make her sensitivity reach an all-time high.

"Big, so big, so hard inside me—fffuck me!"

Taeyeon leaves a big mess for the janitor to clean up. Her orgasm is wet and violent. It forces her to squirt on the tiled floor and your clothes, forces her to squeeze down so tightly on your rod that it suffocates and explodes inside her. Your groans are humiliatingly loud, but it drowns out in Taeyeon's chants of bliss.

"Oh, shit, baby!" she says. "Give me your cum, breed me, make me a mommy!"

Her moans are high-pitched unlike her serious tone when she teaches. When she instructs the classroom, it's strict, cutting through the air like a knife. Now, she's whining helplessly when she instructs you to breed her, bearing your drills as you fill her insides with your cum.

You don't pull out. It would be disobeying her commands. So, even when she's turned into your submissive babygirl with the help of your harsh pumps, she's still your teacher. You'll always follow her way.

"Yes… fuck me… breed me… use me…" is the last thing Taeyeon murmurs before she loses her strength and collapses on the sink.

You guide Taeyeon to her car and drive her home. She's sleeping beside you on the front passenger seat. Pray nobody sees you as you drive through the exit of your school.

But before all that, you went through Taeyeon's phone, and you saw her messages. To your surprise, there's a conversation log in which she texts your girlfriend Eunbi.

It reads:

Professor Taeng: You brought your uniform here, sweetheart?

Kwon Eunbi ♥︎: he brought it himself

have fun w him, Mommy :3

Professor Taeng: I will ;).

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moonshynecybin · 1 month

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short fic! once again maïna got me.... her original post here, this one's like 800 words about marc hitching a ride from vale back to the pits... nebulously established relationship they are being very sweet !

“Are you trying to kill me?” Is what Vale says when Marc trots up to where he’s spectating on the side of the track, camped out like a king in some shady place where the crowds can’t get to him. He’s on his feet, hands on his hips and a frown on his face beneath his hat and sunglasses, staring Marc down as he approaches. He’s worried—he usually is, when Marc’s on the bike— but the crash wasn’t terrible, just a slide into the gravel. He shouldn’t be too mad.

Marc brushes some dust off of the ass of his leathers. The marshals are bustling around them, righting his bike and wheeling it past him and Vale. There’s no sense of urgency though, it’s too late in the session— that’s FP1 done for Marc, now he just needs to get back to the pits. Luckily, he knows a guy.

He flicks a gloved finger at Vale’s cheek, and Vale catches it, brings it to his mouth to kiss his hand, sweet and playful, a moment of connection just for them, letting Marc know he’s not actually mad. Marc can’t help but grin under his helmet.

“I’m okay.” He reassures, keeping his voice low, tilting his head a little. “I saw how lonely you were out here and just wanted to say hi.” He’s joking, but if he had to pick a place to crash, next to Vale isn’t the worst place in the world.

“Not funny,” Vale lets go of his hand to wave a finger in his face, eyebrows jumping, and Marc laughs, big and loud.

“No, it isn’t. I wanted P1.” It’s a bad joke— most of his are— but Vale smiles at him anyway, eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses.

“P2 for you, I think, if you’re done trying to kill yourself.” Vale gestures at the scooter behind him. “You need a lift?

“You offering?”

“I mean you can walk, but that would be less fun for both of us, I think.” Vale says, swinging a leg over the scooter and rummaging for the keys.

“The Valentino Rossi taxi service.” Marc says, climbing onto the back as Vale buckles on his helmet. He leans forward until the enamel of their helmets makes contact, an affectionate bump. He decides to settle his hands on the familiar, narrow space of Vale’s hips, glove catching on the fabric of his shirt.

“For you? I charge double.”

“I can afford it, my husband’s rich.” Marc says, and is rewarded with a bark of a laugh from Valentino and an affectionate slap to his thigh as the ignition catches and they start to move.

Vale pulls away from the track and starts to maneuver towards the pits, scooter rumbling along. Marc closes his eyes, enjoying the ride and the solid weight of Vale in front of him, the way he can lean on him a little, torsos pressed tight. It’s not often he can loosen his control during a race weekend, and it’s nice to not have to focus for a few minutes— to let Vale unwind Marc in that way only he knows how. They don’t get too much alone time on days like these, and Marc lets himself get warm— basking between the sun on his back and the stretch of Valentino in front of him.

It’s over too soon.

“Thanks for the ride,” He says, when Vale slows to a stop in front of Honda’s pit area. He pulls of his helmet.

“Yeah— you be safe, eh?” Vale says, catching Marc’s elbow when he clambers off the scooter. Vale lifts a hand to thumb at Marc’s cheek, and Marc has to lean down to kiss him, soft and sweet, lingering. It’s not the best time for it —he has to get back to his box, there are probably thousands of cameras pointed at them right now, and he has about eight different ideas for the bike setup to iron out with Santi— but right now he doesn’t care. He kisses Vale again, hand on the column of his neck.

“I love you,” He says when he pulls back— he really does have things to do. He grabs his helmet and starts to move away. Vale smacks him on the ass as he goes.

“If you crash again, I will not drive you back next time!” Vale calls as Marc winds his way towards the Honda garage.

“Yes, you will!” Marc calls back, not even turning around. He’s grinning as he ducks around the corner.

And it’s true. It’s something he knows for certain— knowledge that’s sewed itself into his bones— as factual and immutable as the sky being blue, as the sun rising in the morning. If he falls, Vale will be there to catch him.

It’s as simple as that.

#motogp #callie speaks #rosquez #my fic #QUESTION: is the use of ‘give you a ride?’ very american here bc i know i irish people made fun of me for that

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disquiet-doll · 6 months

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read Chilli and the Chocolate Factory: Fudge Revelation

(ff.net isn't working for me right now unless I swap between mobile and desktop, so if it's not working for you either uh. Sowwy.)

It was really, really good

(If you like somewhat silly metafiction that takes gags to their full conclusion even in serious- what am i saying.

It's good if you like Homestuck. OK? That's what it is.)

There's a lot that could be said about it, but the most interesting thing to me right this second is really how it calls itself "Rational, but not strictly".

Because a thing about me - which I believe I've mentioned before - is that I did used to read rational or rational-adjacent fanfic, on occasion. And I have enough knowledge there to say this... Isn't. Not really.

Because the thing about rational fic is the motivation tends to be, like, "this world doesn't make sense, these characters are doing stupid things, blah blah", all while inserting the rationalist vaguely progressive in theory but very often reactionary in practice (namely by ignoring their - usually white, cishet, etc. - background while assuming their viewpoint Most Knowledgable one, but I digress) worldview

And this does like, the inverse of that? Because it looks at all the whimsy and silliness of Roald Dahl's work and just accepts that, for the most part. No problem there!

But what it does take umbrage with - the reason it drips with animosity toward it's source material even as it demonstrates deep familiarity with it - is the worldview of both Dahl himself and his work, most importantly Charlie and the Chocolate Factory itself.

Basically, the equivalent of this fic for Harry Potter would not be Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, or anything else couched in how the world of this children's series is "too dumb".

It would be a story that looks at all the whimsical nonsense of Rowling's only notable work and says "that's fine" while understanding very deeply - and criticizing very openly -that the real problem, the truly odious thing, is the thatcherite neoliberalism the entire world is built on.

It's great!

Also, it's really fucking funny. There was more than one point where I realized some gag from the very start had been building up to a punchline that made me leave my seat and pace around thinking of how good the setup was.

And also also, the metafiction element really was quite fun. I need more time to stew on that - I read the chapters that made the criticism click last night and have been thinking on them since, unlike the hard metafiction chapters I only just finished - but I can't imagine I'll do anything but enjoy it more as I think about it.

Really the important thing is that it ends how I wanted Homestuck to end while it was running - and how I wanted the epilogues to go as well! - which means I can put this Charlie and the Chocolate Factory fanfiction in the "Homestuck but good" pile. You have no idea how much this delights me.

So yeah, recommended if you have the time. It's not too long.

Mahuika vapes.

#musing #i don't know what else to tag this so I won't

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pikapeppa · 5 months

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Karlach/Dammon: Burning Blue

A wish fulfillment fic to answer the question: what if Dammon was the lucky guy to break Karlach's ten-year celibacy streak?

NSFW smut, ~7500 words, from Karlach's precious POV. This takes place the same night that Dammon makes Karlach very touchable again. 🥰 Read here on AO3 instead.

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I’m nervous. Gods, I’m fucking nervous. No, no, don’t be nervous, Big K, you’ve got this. It’s nothing you haven’t done before! It’s just a good old-fashioned come-on, that’s all. Just a good old-fashioned invitation for Dammon to do the beast with two backs with you. No sweat, nothing to worry about, no reason to feel like your engine’s gonna thrum its way right out of your chest.

Ugh, fine, I’m nervous. I’ll admit it, all right? I’m nervous. But how can you blame me? It’s been a decade since I laid a finger on another living soul. One who wasn’t a hellspawn or trying to kill me, I should say. Yeah, the Avernus kind of laying-a-finger-on-someone is really not what I have in mind right now.

All right, there he is. I mean, of course he’s there, it’s his smithy setup in the barn, where the fuck else would be be? Shit, I’m so nervous. What if he says no? What if he doesn’t want to hit the bedroll with me? I might just crumble up into a pile of ash on the spot if he turns me down…

Ohhh, no you don’t. No more doubt. Not another negative word, you hear me? We’re doing this. Come on, soldier, shape up, be confident, all right? Just be your usual big beautiful bold badass self, just like Brynn said. Back straight, head high, tail-barb up: come on, girl, you can do this.

“Dammon! Hi! How’s the hammering going?” Nice, good start. Solid greeting, nothing weird about that.

“Karlach!” he says. “You’re back. I thought you were off to camp for the night.”

He’s smiling at me. Gods, does he ever have a nice smile. It’s like his whole face gets lit up with sunshine. And those eyes? Phwoar. I wonder if anyone’s ever told him how pretty his eyes are. Like two big blue jewels. Or like lightning turned into jewels. Wait, what’s all this nonsense I’m saying? I think I’ve been spending too much time with Gale. Ha, saying something would be a good idea right about now, wouldn’t it?

“Yeah, I’m back. I was wondering, do you — are you done for the day?” It looks like he’s done for the day. His forge is still hot, but it’s just coals now rather than a big old fire. Gods, I hope he’s done for the day.

“Yes, I’m just finishing up,” he says (yay!). “Did you need something repaired? I can rekindle the fire, it’s no problem—”

“No, no, all good. Everything’s tip-top, thanks to you. Listen, I was wondering: d’you want to have a drink with me?”

His whole face lights up, and my gods, I swear: if I had a heart, it would’ve done a fluttery thing like something from a romance book. “That sounds great. Let’s go on inside.” He hangs up his apron, and then we’re heading to the inn.

Yes! First step done, we’re off to a cracking good start! Here we go, inside the inn for a drink, just me and Dammon. How great is this? I mean, not that it’s not wonderful being with Brynn and Wyll and all the rest of those adorable little dumplings, but there’s something special to be said about being alone with just you and the person you’ve got mad horns for.

Here we are, at the door to the inn — and Dammon touches my shoulder. “Go ahead.”

He’s touching my shoulder. His hand, that strong callused hand on my shoulder. He’s touching me, he can touch me, and it’s all thanks to him. Gods, I want to ride him until the sun comes up.

Keep it together, Karlach. Stay cool until you find out if he wants this too. Ha, stay cool! I can sort of almost do that now! Enough for touching, at least, which is all I want in the world right now, and Dammon is touching my shoulder, and… and I should probably get inside the inn now.

I step inside — quick little rub of Darkmaw’s paw for luck. Ooh, Jaheira is still awake, I love her, she’s so damned cool!

Dammon leads me to one of the tables near the bar. “What can I get you? Wine? Beer? The beer is even cold, thanks to Jaheira—”

“Cold beer? Sign me the fuck up!”

He smiles — ugh, swoon! — and off he goes to the bar to find some beer. And here I am, sitting at this table, happier than the happiest clam that ever lived in the sandy banks of the Chionthar. Ha, that was a funny line! I mean, I think it was funny. I bet Wyll will, too. I’ll have to tell him about it — maybe he can add it to one of his stories!

Gods, this inn is nice: all candle-lit and quiet since it’s nighttime, real cozy-like. Perfect for telling a certain smith that he’s one of the kindest, warmest, most wonderful people you’ve ever met and that you fancy his pants off — literally, if he wants it that way. Ohh, I’m getting nervous again. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s going to be fine.

Dammon comes back and sets down two steins. “Are you all right?”

“I’m better than all right. I’m fantastic.” I lift my stein. “Cheers to you, Dammon. For everything. I really mean that.”

Another killer smile. “Cheers back to you, Karlach.” He taps his stein to mine, then brings it to his mouth, and I do the same — ohhh, beer. Cold beer, my gods, I’d forgotten exactly how good this was! I take another swallow and another — okay, honestly, I am so thirsty. And now I’m out of beer, and Dammon is smiling at me, and no, no, I can’t throw myself at him across the table, I can’t.

He chuckles and puts down his stein. “Can I get you another?”

“Naw, I’m good,” I laugh. “This was great, thanks.”

He nods and rests his elbows on the table (hellooo, rolled-up sleeves and forearms). “So what did you want to talk about? Do you have questions about your engine?”

“No, it’s not that.” No fucking way am I thinking about that right now. “I wanted to ask if, um…” Don’t be nervous, girl. You’ve got this. “You said before that I was — that I’m… touchable. Very touchable.”

Oh no, his smile’s fading. “Yeah, I did. I’m…” He rubs the back of his neck. “I’m sorry about that. Maybe I crossed a line…? This is a big — a huge deal for you, I know it must be overwhelming, the last thing you need—”

Wait wait wait! “Hang on, slow down. You think you crossed a line?”

“I… didn’t I? That’s not what you wanted to say?”

“Hells, no!” Woah, voice down, there are people sleeping in the room next door. “Are you kidding?” I say (quietly). “If that’s what you call crossing the line, I want you to cross all the lines.”

He looks gobsmacked now, which is really fucking cute. “You do?”

“Yeah, I do. I really, really do. If you want to, I mean. I don’t — I mean, I know I’m a lot of heat to handle, but I…” Fuck, my engine feels like it’s roaring. Please, gods, let him want this too. “I want to be with you, Dammon. I… It’s been so long since I was with anyone, and — and now that I can be with someone, I… I want it to be you.”

He doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at me like a fish, actually. Oh fuck, am I totally off base here? Noooo. “No pressure, though! No — I mean, if you’re not into… If I’m jumping the hatchet here, that’s totally fine, it’s not a problem—”

“No!” he blurts. “It’s not that. Believe me, Karlach, it’s not that I don’t want to. I mean — what I mean is that I…” He’s smiling again, thank all the fucking gods. “I would love to be with you, actually. I just… I can’t believe it’s me you want.”

I would love to be with you. I would love to be with you. He said that, right? Those were the words he said? Dammon the amazing smith with the amazing sinew-y hands said that to me, right? Oh shit, he’s still talking.

He gestures at me. “I mean, look at you. You’re Karlach. The Karlach, the destroyer of demons and devilspawn. You’re a hero.”

Oh my gods. Is that really what he thinks? “Wha—? Oh come on! It’s not like that.”

“It is like that,” he insists. “Haven’t you spoken to the kids? Mattis and Ide and them? I mean, I know you have, but you know they worship you, right? You’re like a goddess to them.” He looks around like he’s checking for spies, then lowers his voice. “Honestly? I think you’re better for them than a goddess, because you’re real to them. You mean something to them, Karlach. You’ve given them someone to look up to. That’s no small thing for a group of tiefling kids with no parents to look up to anymore.”

Fuck, I’m gonna cry. He doesn’t even know about Mum and Dad, and he hit the nail right on the fucking head.

He touches my hand — oh fuck, he’s not just touching my hand, but holding my hand. Turning my hand over on the table, his fingers sliding over my palm, his fingers curling into mine like he did right after he fixed me… Gods, my entire throat is full of fucking tears.

“I would love to be with you, Karlach,” he says in the softest voice. “If you’re sure this is what you want.”

Oh, hells. He’s going to make me weep. Swallow it down, soldier, gulp those tears down! “Let’s get outta here. Will you come back to my camp?”

“Actually…” Ooh, what’s this cheeky look on his face? Cute! “Would you be interested in a bed?”

What? No way! “A bed? You’ve got a claim on one of the beds here?”

“Sort of. Me and the other grown-ups have a rotation with one of the rooms upstairs. Taking turns having a little peace and privacy for a night.”

“You and the grown-ups?”

“Yeah — well, we offered to the kids, too, but they want to stay together on the main floor, where the Harpers are. Can’t really blame them, either. But anyway, um, what I was trying to say is, um.” He clears his throat. “If you’d rather use a bed than a bedroll, there’s—”

I’m already on my feet. “Bed. You and me. Now.”

He smiles — gods, that brilliant smile. And he’s on his feet too now, we’re heading for the stairs — oh my gods, he’s holding my hand again. Dammon is holding my hand, his fingers are between my fingers, how fucking nice is this? How long have I been thinking about this — no, dreaming about this? Easy, Karlach, keep those tears in your eyes.

He gives me a little smile as we walk up the stairs. “Fair warning that it was Rolan’s turn in the bed last night, so it might smell a little magical.”

What! Is that a thing? Gale and Brynn never said that was a thing! “Really? What does magic smell like?”

“Oh, no, I — I’m just joking.” Dammon smiles and rubs the back of his neck. “It was a bad joke. Sorry. Pretend you didn’t—”

I kiss him. How could I not kiss him? He’s so — oh, gods, he’s kissing me. His lips, my lips, his hands in mine, we’re — we’re kissing, we’re kissing! Dammon the smith is kissing me, and he’s… Would it be naff as all the hells if I said he was dreamy? Fuck it, who cares if it’s naff? He is gods-damned dreamy. As much as his hands are callused, his lips are so fucking soft, and I’m… I am melting. I swear, I’m melting, he’s making my lips melt apart like a hot knife in butter, he’s touching his tongue to mine… Gods, his hands though? How he uses them? This is fucking magic. His thumbs are sliding over my wrists, his palms skimming up my arms, over my shoulders, oh gods, oh gods oh gods…!

His hands cradle my neck, and his tongue slides into my mouth, and I’m — I’m… I can’t think. I can’t think, I can’t — I can just feel. I feel him: his lips his tongue his hands — how close he is, the nearness of his body to mine, I feel… fuck, I feel everything, every touch of his fingers and every stroke of his tongue, and I — he — shit, was that me? That little kitten-y sound: was that actually me? I’ve never made a sound like that in my life.

He breaks the kiss, presses his horns to mine. “Are you all right?”

I’m a puddle. I can’t talk. I just nod.

He smiles (arghhh, as if I’m not melted enough already!). “You’re burning blue,” he whispers.

Huh? “Huh?”

“You’re burning blue.” He rests his palm on my chest — oh shit, I really am burning blue. I… I’m burning blue but — but I’m not burning him!

“You’re…” My hand’s fucking shaking as I press it over his. “You don’t feel that? Not even a little singe?”

“Not even a little singe.” His eyebrows do that little mischief-quirky thing. “I told you, I’m good.”

I laugh. I can’t help it: I’m as giddy as a kid on her birthday. “Oh ho-ho, boy, you don’t know what you’re doing by saying things like that in a voice like that.” I step closer to him.

His gorgeous smile gets even bigger. “Or maybe I know exactly what I’m doing,” he says, still in that voice — oh, gods yes, his hands are on my neck again, so callused and so fucking gentle—

“Ahem.”

Fuck, Jaheira’s right behind us! “J-Jaheira! I mean, uh, ma’am!” Shit, should I bow to her? What should I do? She’s looking at me!

She smiles — the Jaheira is smiling at me! — then tilts her head. “Karlach, is it?”

She remembers my name! Snap to attention, soldier! “Yes ma’am, that’s me.”

She nods to Dammon too. “Dammon. Good evening. Let it be known that no one begrudges you your fun, but perhaps you should have it elsewhere that isn’t right at the top of the stairs. The only stairs that leads to the upper floor…?”

All right, now I’m going to melt from embarrassment. “Of course! Right! Uh, right! Uh—”

Dammon cuts me off, thank fuck. “Sorry, Jaheira,” he says. “We’ll get out of your way. Out of the way, I mean.” He takes my hand again, and I’m following him down the hall to one of the rooms: a simple little room with a nice cushy-looking double bed.

He leads me inside and closes the door. We look at each other. And we just crack up, we just totally — we’re both laughing like loons, just laughing so hard I can hardly fucking breathe. Augh, my ribs are starting to hurt, I’m laughing so hard!

“Here, sit down,” Dammon chuckles. He leads me over to the bed, and I let him guide me there.

Then I push him down and straddle him.

His gorgeous eyes get big. “Oh! Are you—”

I kiss him again — gods, he’s so delicious. Soft lips, hot tongue, strong hands: oh, I could just die for the touch of his hands. They’re circling my waist, they’re gripping my hips, they’re curling around my thighs… Fuuuck, gods, I’m sparking. Feels like everything’s sparking, like everywhere he touches is shooting with sparks, and I can’t… I can’t wait. I can’t wait anymore. I need more, I need his fucking hands, I need his hands on my skin.

I rip off my top and chuck it on the floor, and his baby-blues drop to my tits. “W-wow. I—”

I grab his collar and I shove my tongue into his mouth — fuck, his tongue tangling with mine: mm, just imagine feeling that sweet tongue in other places… Hellfire take me, I need this man more than I need air.

I climb off of him and start unbuttoning the ol’ trousers, and he grabs my hands. “Hey, hey. Easy, Karlach. Slow down. You don’t need to rush.”

Easy? Slow down? He’s kidding, right? It’s like I’ve never known the meaning of the word. “I…” Fuck, I’m breathing hard, I’m breathing so hard, and every breath feels like it’s making me hotter. Easy, Karlach, slow it down for him.

I gulp down a breath. “I hear you, soldier. But I have to tell you, I… Sometimes it feels like I’ve only got two modes: off, and on-on-on. I don’t…” Damn it, Karlach, breathe. “You might need to show me how to do this slowing-down thing.”

He smiles, and I swear, something inside of me absolutely melts. He’s got this way about him when he smiles, like his smile makes his face softer even when he’s showing his teeth, and it just… It’s such a special smile, you know? Like the way it feels when your mum watches you eating your favourite meal that she made? That’s how Dammon’s smile feels, and I swear on my life, if I still had a heart, it would be swelling up to five times its normal size.

He shifts off of the bed. “I’m happy to show you,” he says, and gods save me, he’s using that voice again. “Maybe I can start with…?” He gestures at my trousers and gives me a can-I? kind of look.

“Yes,” I say loudly. “Fuck yes.”

A big brilliant smile, and then he’s — ah, fuck yes, he’s undoing the buttons on my pants. He’s popping the buttons one by one, not even touching me as he does it, but I swear to all the gods, watching him do this is making me hotter than I’ve ever been in my life. And that includes when Zariel first put this fucking engine in my chest. No, don’t think about Zariel, forget about her.

Dammon pops the last button, then looks at me. “Can I take them off?”

“Please. Rip them off for all I care!”

He grins — gods, he’s a stupidly beautiful man. He’s pulling down my shabby trousers now, finally, pulling the damn things down over my hips and my ass and — oh. Oh my gods, oh my gods he’s kneeling in front of me this is not a drill!.

He sighs. “Karlach, you’re… really beautiful, you know that?”

He’s kneeling in front of me. Dammon is kneeling in front of me. He’s looking at me, his hand is curled around my ankle, and — oh, fuck me, his tail-barb is tracing my calf, his tail is coiling around my calf. His tail, his hand, his — even just his beautiful blue eyes on my skin: he’s seeing me, all of me, my bare fucking skin that nobody’s seen for ten fucking years.

“Are you all right?” His tail-barb strokes my knee, his hand squeezes my calf — fuck, I can’t cope with this.

I grab his shirt and pull. “Please, I — please, Dammon!”

He stands up. “What’s wrong? What can I do?”

I kiss him again. I know, I know, I keep fucking doing it, I keep sticking my tongue down his throat, but he’s so… I… Fuck, his hands are on my hips, on my back, he’s — shit, he’s stroking my shoulder blades. His fingers are tracing over my vents like it’s the most normal thing in the world to touch a woman with fucking vents in her skin, and I’m… I feel so… It’s like I’m full, my chest, my tummy, it’s like I’m so, so full — but it just reminds me of how empty I’ve been for so long. And I need him to… I need more. I have to have more. I need him to remind me of how good it is to feel this fucking full.

I grip his collar. “I need you naked. Right now.”

He laughs: argh, that laugh, how soft it is, how sweet! “I thought you wanted me to show you ‘slow’.”

“You can show me slow with your kit off.” I know what I sound like, I sound desperate as all the hells, but I do not fucking care. A river of blue heat is running through my veins, and my skin is fucking vibrating for more: more of him, more of his skin touching mine — gods, I want to slide against him like we’ve both been fucking greased.

“All right,” he chuckles. “You talked me into it.” He takes off his scarf, then starts taking off his vest, and I start working on his belt. I’m just helping, right? Just being a good old helper, that’s me. Ha, his belt is off, his vest is off, just a pesky shirt and trousers now — oh-ho, he’s a fast one with the shirt, we love a man who can strip like a fast-changer at the circus! It’s just the trousers left now. I grab for his laces —

Oh yes, he’s kissing me. His hands on my neck, his tongue so fucking sweet and slow in my mouth — gods alive, kissing is fantastic, so fucking fantastic it’s unreal. He’s pulling me close, his hands on my hips and his chest — fuuuck me Dammon, his sternal ridges are rubbing my nipples.

I can’t fucking cope. I can’t fucking cope, I can’t think, it feels so fucking good, I’m making that noise again like a hungry kitten begging for milk…

He peels his lips from mine. “See? I knew you could do it.”

“Do what?” I whimper. Yes, I whimpered like a kitten, all right? Whatever, shut up about it.

“You’re going slow,” he says in that voice. “You’re doing it right now.”

I’ve not a clue what he’s talking about. I’ve never felt less slow in my whole fucking life. “What do you mean?”

“My trousers,” he says. “You stopped trying to take them off.”

I burst out laughing. (It’s mostly hysteria, I’m fucking telling you.) “It’s not ‘cause I want to stop! I just can’t, uh…” Oh gods oh gods: his tail. His tail-barb is caressing my butt and giving me shivers — gods, what a life! When was the last time I got a shiver about anything? — oh my fucking gods, his tail is twining around my thigh.

I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I’m alive with desire, I’m so fucking alive, and all he’s doing is curling his tail around my upper thigh. But his tail is so close — he’s so close, the smooth heat of his tail curling so fucking close to where I’m burning so hot…

That kitten noise squeaks out of me again. “Dammon, please…” I stroke his chest — my palms on his chest, my fingers on the ridges of his ribs, I’m touching him. I’m pressed against him from thigh to chest, I’m pulling him closer with my tail, I’m petting the ridges of his back and his shoulder blades — ooh, he’s got wingtips!

“You have wingtips!” I gasp. “Aw, how lucky are you? My mum always said these were good luck!”

He laughs that precious little laugh. “My grandmother said the same. Said it means I’ll be able to fly in my next life.”

“Aww, I love that. Makes me extra-wish I had a pair myself.” I trace the sharp little hooks with my fingers, then keep running my hands over the ridges of his back. Damn, skin is amazing. It’s really an amazing, amazing thing, and nobody even bothers to think about how amazing it is. Skin and muscles, too, like these nice wiry ropes of muscles in his upper back and his arms… Phwoar, his arms are bloody fit. I mean, of course they are, he’s a fucking smith, but still: I didn’t realize just how damn fit he was under his clothes. And these veins in his forearms? The way they pop, and the burn scars on his forearms and his hands? He might even have more scars on his arms and hands than I do, which is saying a hell of a lot.

Hellfire fucking take me, he is gods-damned beautiful. The scars, the ridges of his spine and his sternum, the wiry muscle of his smithy’s bod — not just his body, either, but his jaw, his nose, that heart-melting jewel-eyed smile…

Oops. Embarrassing. I went totally silent while I was touching him. “Sorry. Went into my own little world for a minute there.”

Another soft laugh. “Don’t even think about being sorry,” he says, and he lifts his hand… Ohhh, he’s touching my cheek. He’s holding my cheek in his palm, just cradling my cheek like it’s a baby bird… How long has it been since I’ve had a hand on my cheek? A nice hand, mind you, not a blood-covered clawed hand trying to gouge my eyes out. Too fucking long, that’s how: too fucking long with no caring hands to touch me or hold me or hug me when things got fucking rough. But that’s all over now, thanks to Dammon. I can touch and be touched, I can kiss and be kissed, I can climb this rip-roaringly gorgeous man in front of me, and I swear to every god that’s listening that that’s what I’m going to do all night long.

I kiss him and pull him close with my hands and tail. I stroke his spine with my tail-barb, I lick his tongue like it’s the sweetest thing in all the realms, I rub myself against him like I’m some pent-up kid who doesn’t know what they’re doing yet, and it all feels fucking fantastic. And he’s touching me too, his claws scratching my neck so super-gently while we kiss, his hands on my back, my hips — wowee, his hands on my ass! I want that, yes more—!

He palms my backside and pulls me tight to his body — fuck, he’s hard. He’s hard he’s hard he’s hard, I can feel him rubbing against my ladybits through his trousers — augh he’s still wearing trousers, fuck my life upside down!

I break from his kiss. “Take your trousers off,” I beg. “Just take them off already, all right? I need them off, I can’t — I really really want them off!”

“I’ll take them off. It’s all right,” he says in this dreamy calm-soothing voice, and his tail starts uncurling from around my thigh—

Fuck fuck fuck oh my gods yes his tail is sliding between my legs. It’s — fuck, his tail, he’s petting my cunt with his tail, it’s sliding between my legs and stroking me as it unwinds from my thigh and oh my gods it feels so good, how am I supposed to survive—? “Mm ah fuck!”

His tail is gone. His arms are around me. “Was that okay?”

I am fucking gasping. “You tease,” I choke out.

He laughs, his lips close to mine. “Not a tease. I’m going to carry through, I promise.” Mmm, he’s kissing me again, he’s so fucking yummy, and he’s untying his trousers and I’m vibrating and I can hardly keep fucking still—

He pushes his trousers down and his cock is out. His cock, it’s hard, he’s hard — oh my god his cock. It’s gorgeous. I mean, it’s a cock, cocks are always a little funny-looking, I don’t know how folks who’ve got ‘em can cope with them, but Dammon’s is out and it’s gorgeous — fuck me yes he’s stroking it I want to do that.

I push his hand away, replace it with mine, and he gasps. “Ah—”

I kiss him. I’m stroking him, I’m walking him back toward the bed, he falls onto the bed and I’m climbing onto him and gasping into his mouth and stroking this thick pretty cock of his—

His hands are in my hair. “Karlach, slow down,” he gasps. “Slow down for a minute, all right?”

Fuuuck, fuck fuck, I can’t. No, I have to, I have to slow down for him. “Help me,” I beg. “I don’t know how.”

“It’s all right,” he pants, and he presses his horns to mine. “Just breathe with me for a second, okay?”

I nod. Breathe, I can do that, that’s totally something I can do. Just breathe. I close my eyes, I feel the sweet ridges of his horns against mine, I feel his breath tickling my lips because he’s breathing too, I feel — woah yes, that’s his tail. His tail-barb is tracing my lower spine, tracing lower still — eep he poked my bum!

I burst out a laugh. “You rotter!”

He laughs, too: fuck me, I adore his laugh. He’s laughing against my lips, his tail-barb is gliding down over my bum… oh fuck, it’s moving down to my thigh, around my thigh, drifting between my legs, is he going to—? Oh gods Dammon please yes!

“Yes!” I gasp — fuck, his tail, he’s petting my cunt with his tail oh my gods I’m going to explode.

“Easy, Karlach,” he whispers. His hands cradle my neck, perfect callused hands, fuck his tail is petting me, caressing me, touching parts of me that I’ve been dreaming of being touched for years — ah yes that’s the fucking spot right there, right there fuck right there yes!

“Dammon,” I mewl — yes, I fucking mewled like a cat, I’m mewling and my back is arching like I’m a bitch in heat, but really? That’s exactly what I am. I’m in fucking heat for this man. I’m burning for him, burning for more of this, burning alive with his tail petting that red-hot little button of love. Dammon’s breathing hard, too, his fingers gripping my hair and his hips moving under me while his tail-barb does its work between my legs. It’s like he’s getting desperate too, so desperate that he can’t keep still while his tail is petting me, and I love that he’s getting desperate. I want him to unravel just like I’m doing now. I want to hear him moaning, I want to see him bucking his hips for more, I want — I want him so badly, I want this so much, it’s happening right now and I still want it like it’s out of my reach. How does that make any sense? Why am I longing for something while it’s happening right now, right here, with this insanely beautiful man I’ve been fantasizing about since I first clapped eyes on him?

Oh fuck, why am I getting emotional?

He strokes my hair. “Hey, are you okay?”

Oh gods, there’s a moan to his voice already. He’s breathing hard like he’s the one being touched, like he’s the one who’s getting tail-fucked more perfectly than even my best fantasies — ah, fuck me, his touch, the way his tail is rubbing my clit just right, it’s so — he’s so, so fucking perfect, he feels so right, this feels so right: Dammon’s hands in my hair, his body under mine, his tail petting my cunt and his lips breathing into mine… My gods, I’m so… he’s so, this is, I’m… fuck, I’m so close, I’m getting closer, I’m going to fucking blow I’m going to—

Yes. Yes yes yesyesyesfuckmeican’tbreatheohmygods kiss me Dammon fucking kiss me—

His tongue in my mouth. Moaning, is that me or him? No idea, who cares, I’m a fucking inferno. Everything sparking, like lightning under my skin and scorching my throat in the best fucking way, all because of him.

His lips leave mine. His voice, husky and soft. “You all right?”

I whimper. Still vibrating. No words, can’t talk. Need him to fuck me.

He strokes my broken horn, strokes my cheek. “You’re burning blue, Karlach.”

I sure fucking am. Burning blue, burning alive in ways that I didn’t think I ever would again, and it’s all because of him. It’s all him, it’s Dammon — his sunshine smile, his jewel-pretty eyes the colour of a summer sky: I’m burning blue, all because of him.

I nuzzle his ear. “I’m going to ride you until you see stars, soldier.”

He laugh-moans. “Yes please. I’m all for that.”

He’d better be, because I can’t hold back now. I can’t do slow now. I am on, on-on-on like I’ve never been before, and I’m sitting upright on his lap and I’m stroking his cock while he grips my thighs — gods I want to taste him, I want his come in my mouth, no no I’ll save that for later, I need him inside of me right fucking now—

Fuck yes he’s inside me fuck yes. Dammon is inside of me, and he feels like fucking heaven.

He groans, and it’s the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. “Gods, Karlach!”

I take it back: hearing my name like that is the prettiest sound I’ve ever heard. I stroke his chest — beautiful chest, beautiful ridges of his ribs — then I brace myself on his abs and start fucking him hard.

He groans, arches his neck in a way that makes me want to bite him (ha, don’t tell Astarion!): oh, my sweet fucking gods, he feels amazing. His cock is driving into me so hard, so sweet and hard that I’m making noise with every stroke, and he’s making noise too and gripping my thighs — ah, his tail, it’s coiling around my forearm in a way that makes my tummy flutter, and his eyelids are fluttering too like he’s really letting loose, which I love to see. I love seeing him like this, I love seeing him looking as good as he makes me feel, and fuck does he ever make me feel good. His thick fucking cock, the hot driving punch of it reaching so deep… Holy fucking hells, I missed this, I missed it so fucking much, and it’s so much better than I remembered. Dammon’s solid body under mine, his strong smithy’s hands on my hips and thighs, his tail squeezing my arm like the way he holds my hand, and those eyes: his beautiful eyes, the way he’s watching me under his half-lidded eyes while I ride him like my life hinges on his cock… Fuck me, did it ever really feel like this? Was it ever really this good?

Wait, wait a second: was sex ever this fucking good before?

I’m staring at Dammon now. Just staring at this kind and gorgeous man who’s filling me up within an inch of my life, and I… I don’t know that it’s ever been like this. I don’t know that it ever has been this good before. Sex is always great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s never… My gods, it’s never been like this. It’s never felt so… so close. So right. Fuck, it’s never felt as right as it does right now with him — how fucking weird is that? We’re in an abandoned inn in a place that’s been cursed to the shadows for a hundred years, and it’s somehow the most right that I’ve ever felt while being naked with another soul.

Wait, though: it gets even weirder. I’m with Dammon, an infernal smith who I might never have even spoken to if it wasn’t for the engine in my chest — the engine that’s slowly burning me alive. If I didn’t have this damned thing in my chest, I wouldn’t be here with him. We wouldn’t be here together doing this.

I’m having the time of my fucking life right now with the most wonderful man I’ve ever met because of something that’s going to kill me.

No, no no no, stop it brain, don’t think about it—

“Hey.” He’s sitting up on one elbow — no, he’s pushing himself upright and reaching for my cheek. “Hey, hey now, are you okay—”

I kiss him. I shove my tongue into his mouth and grip his neck, and I fuck him like there’s no tomorrow. I fuck him like this is it, like this is the only chance we’ll have and I have to show him how much this means, how good this is and how good it is because of him, because it’s him, Dammon: it’s Dammon’s body under mine, and his hand and his tail holding me, it’s all him, and I need him to know that there’s nothing I wanted more in this world than to be with him.

He breaks from my lips with the most incredible groan. “Ah, Karlach—”

I nuzzle his ear. “I want you so bad, Dammon. I want you more than anything.”

He groans again — gods, if only you could bottle a noise and keep it for later. “I’m all yours. I promise.”

My gods, what a promise. What a thing to say, what a thing to hear from someone who’s so fucking good. And now I don’t know what to say, my tongue’s a knot, my throat’s getting thick — gods, just fuck him already, just wring the pleasure out of him like he did for you.

I fuck him. I’m riding him hard. I’m bouncing on his beautiful cock and staring at his beautiful face while it crinkles up with pleasure — come for me, Dammon, I want you to. I really want him to, I want his come more than anything in the world, I want him to let it all go inside of me — oh yes, good boy, he’s getting even harder, he’s getting harder inside of me oh my gods fuck I know he’s going to come—

“A-ah, please, y-yes—!” He kisses me, Dammon is kissing me, his tongue thrusting into my mouth and his hand firm at the back of my neck, he’s shuddering and pulsing deep inside — yes, I can feel him giving me his come, and I want it all. I’m fucking hungry for it, for every last drop of him, every little bit of proof that this was me and him together: Dammon and Karlach, Karlach and Dammon, two hells-touched tieflings finding our little place of light among the shadows.

He breaks our kiss and presses his horns to mine again. “Gods,” he pants. “Gods alive. You are… incredible.” He laughs, this husky I’m-out-of-breath-because-I’ve-been-fucking kind of laugh, and I swear I’d give my unbroken horn to be able to hear that laugh every day for the rest of my life, no matter how long or short it is.

He leans away a little and strokes my hair. “How are you feeling?”

Gods, look at him: he’s perfect. He said I was burning blue, but I swear on my life, his eyes are incandescent. They’re the brightest, most electric blue I’ve ever seen in my life, and it’s like they’re scorching my soul, branding this amazing moment deep into me so that it’ll never be forgotten, no matter what comes next.

Fuck, I feel so full. I’m so… my chest, my throat, my entire fucking soul feels full. Oh no, my eyes feel full too, oh no — don’t do this, Karlach, don’t you dare.

“I—” Oh fuck, I’m sobbing. I’m sobbing? Why now, why?

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Come here, it’s okay.” He’s tucking my head against his neck — oh my gods, I’m falling apart. He’s hugging me, his tail is stroking my back like he’s comforting a child, which is funny ‘cause I’m weeping like a baby. No, not weeping: I’m fucking bawling. That’s fantastic, Karlach, that’s just great, let’s just bawl all over the gorgeous smith while his cock is still in me.

Okay, that’s kind of funny, but… Fuck, I can’t stop crying. It’s all just coming out now, everything, all the stuff that’s been going on: the tadpole, my engine, the shadow curse and how fucking awful it is here, Lae’zel almost dying at the crèche and Mizora being a fucking bitch to Wyll and Astarion making his snarky little jokes like he’s not dead-scared of Cazador. I’m just fucking sobbing, I’m howling for me and them and everything, and more stuff keeps coming out: Gortash, Zariel, Avernus, Mum and Dad — everything, it’s just fucking everything, it’s all the things, so much shit I haven’t cried about for years, and it’s all coming out on poor Dammon because he’s hugging me.

Dammon is hugging me. He’s just hugging me while I cry all over him, hugging me tight like I haven’t been hugged in fucking years, and I don’t know if I can stop.

I do stop, eventually, when it feels like every tear in my body is on his neck instead of in my eyes. When I finally stop crying, he speaks. “Are you all right?”

Gods be damned, his soft voice, his hand petting my back… He’s going to make me cry again. “I’m okay,” I say. “Stuffy, but okay.” I lift my head — eurgh, yep, lots of tears and snot on his neck. Real attractive, Karlach, really sexy stuff.

“Sorry.” I wipe my face real quick and start wiping his neck. “Sorry. That’s gross. I’m so sorry—”

“Don’t be sorry,” he says. “You needed that. There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Oh hells, now he’s wiping my cheeks… Did someone make this man on purpose to turn me into the world’s meltiest puddle? He’s wiping my cheeks and looking at me in that so-soft way with his beautiful soft eyes… Oh boy, I’m a goner. If I wasn’t already all fluttery for him, I’m a total loss now.

He strokes my shoulder. “Do you have to head back to your camp?”

No way. I don’t want to go back. I want to stay here with him and make this night last forever. Don’t say that, though, you’ll sound like a limpet. “I can stay for a while,” I say, all casual-like. “If you want, I mean. I — unless you have to sleep? You probably have to get up early for the forge—”

“No, no,” he says quickly. “I can get up whenever, that doesn’t matter. Either way, if you — if you don’t have to get back, maybe…” He clears his throat — aw, he’s looking shy! Why is he looking shy? “Maybe you’d like to stay the night? With me, I mean?”

He wants me to stay? He wants me to stay! “Yes! I mean—” Oh gods, I’m laughing now. “Yes. I’d love to stay with you.”

He smiles — oh gods, that killer smile. He’s going to destroy me with that smile before the night is through, I swear. “Great! That’s — that’s really great. Okay.” He laughs a little and strokes my arm. “Maybe I can take my trousers off, if that’s okay with you?”

“Your—?” I twist around on his lap to look — ha, oh shit, his trousers are down around his calves, and he’s still wearing his boots!

I laugh and climb off of him. “You didn’t take them off? Bit eager, are we?”

“Me? You didn’t give me a chance! So much for slowing down.” He’s grinning now as he pulls off his boots, and he’s so damned pretty that all I can do is smile back at him. Gods, I really am a goner.

He drops his boots on the floor. He’s totally naked now, naked and warm and perfect, and I don’t want to waste another second not touching all of that perfect naked skin.

I straddle him and wrap my arms around his neck, and he smiles and strokes my hip. “Back for a second round already? I’m game, but I’ll need a little more time.”

I press my horns to his. “Dammon, I…” No, Karlach, don’t say it. Don’t tell him what you’re feeling, it’s way too soon. It is too soon, right? It’s too soon to know if this is just lust or if it’s something more, right? Something so much more, so much bigger that it feels like it’s filling my entire damn body… I can’t know yet for sure that this is what I think it is, can I? Fuck, I’m breathing all shaky. Stop it, K, don’t cry again, just don’t.

He strokes my neck — gods, his magical hands on my skin, I can’t get enough. “It’s okay,” he whispers. “Take your time. Talk when you’re ready.”

I nod, and I kiss him. For the dozenth time tonight, I’m kissing Dammon, melting under his soft lips and tasting his tongue and feeling every inch of my skin coming to life under his hands, and I can’t be fucking bothered with talking. Who cares about words or talking or even thinking when there’s this, when there’s him? Not me, that’s for sure. All that matters is being here with Dammon, skin-to-skin with him like all my hottest dreams, and I don’t give a shit about anything else.

Tonight, I’m burning blue for him. And that’s all that fucking matters.

#karlach/dammon #karlach x dammon #heartforge #dammon bg3 #bg3 dammon #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach bg3 #bg3 karlach #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #pikapeppa writes

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wormlette · 2 months

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We are not a pet play expert but we ARE someone who spends entirely too much time working with kink psychology. The good pet play on AO3 is sadly very thin on the ground and we tend to make it harder for ourself by going exclusively for fandoms who have like five authors maximum so we can't offer recommendations but to be quite honest Laios feels like the kind of guy who'd really enjoy a day collar or something similar in that it would give him, like, a physical reminder of being, in some way, wanted, and a tactile sense of connection. Any sort of distinct accessory that serves as a subtle "mark of ownership" during day-to-day works here, but "day collar" is easier to say.

He would probably want to have something that can be tugged on and used as a handle or similar, honestly. He might find use in anything that Chilchuck can use to more easily catch his attention or, like, offer a physical "guide" to move him around by - Chilchuck may not be physically strong enough to actually move him on his own, but a bit of extra leverage can probably get a setup where it's a Noticeable Physical Sensation and Laios can follow through on his own. It would be INSANELY impractical in the dungeon, though, which would definitely put a stopper to it - the handle that you have put in so that your halfling pick-lock can have a shot at moving you around at will can also be utilized by enemies who were capable of moving you around previously and probably don't need the extra handle.

We feel like Chilchuck might not 100% Get the full "belonging" aspect of a day collar, at least initially but he could definitely get some mileage out of adding a built-in handle to get Laios's attention. The issue would, of course, be in getting them to this point - we feel like it wouldn't come up super easily? Most likely, we think it'd be the sort of thing where Chilchuck makes an offhand comment without it meant to be taken Seriously and Laios jumps on it as "hey we could actually do that".

Chilchuck feels like the sort of guy where it simply wouldn't have passed his mind that a day collar could be a Thing and the idea of someone Wanting that would be a bit out of his sphere of... interest? Knowledge? He wouldn't think of it until the idea of it'd be brought up, and he honestly might take a bit of convincing to come around to it. Laios feels like the kind of guy where he thinks about "what if I wore a harness like an actual beast of burden" and then he thinks about that continually for the next five years.

We can probably give advice on tracking down resources on IRL pet play, but we can't help very much with fiction? Our #1 thing that we feel we Need to have in any fic regardless of content is good characterization, and this tends to significantly narrow the margin of Things We Can Recommend because something can be a stunningly beautiful depiction of how to write pet play but we still won't like it if it's OOC and we are unfortunately prone to having the disease where we exclusively get into stuff that has maybe three other people in the same area.

Hopefully this coheres for you we're sort of rambling with hopes that this'll vaguely get at what we're aiming for - we are heavily impacted by our own personal desires to add MORE spec. bio to everything we're into, ever, so we're unclear if our halfling agriculture & domestication thoughts would fully apply?

We definitely agree that dogs would be uncommon or rare - a poorly-trained dog can probably be a very real danger to even an adult halfling, and the larger breeds of dog can get to be bigger than them, which'll be a HUGE risk especially for an environment when they can't be 100% sure of the breed content of any given dog. You can easily run into Issues training dogs as a normal-sized human - it's going to be a whole lot harder and more risky to get something that's BIGGER than you and can seriously injure or kill you to LISTEN, especially when your stakes are "either you do this right or you are at significant risk of injury from a dog that hasn't quite been trained to be considerate around halflings".

If the dog doesn't know precisely how gentle to go with its pack, then even with good intentions, it can hurt someone very badly - you've definitely got to know EXACTLY what you're doing, or otherwise have a very good trainer. Of course, that might be able to add to fun metaphors later, so... depends on how you handle it. Or handle them, as it may be.

We think that the most familiar form of animal agriculture to them would probably involve raising things like silkworms, mealworms, crickets, and other bugs, both for general materials and because they're small enough that "raising bugs for meat" almost definitely gives more bang for their buck than it would for larger races. We feel like larger domestic animals would be significantly rarer, just because trying to tame just about anything long enough to domesticate when you're only 100cm tall is going to be DIFFICULT. Easier to just make domestic lineages of things like "animal where you can put it somewhere dark and damp with some corn meal and potato slices and get ten times the yield after leaving it for a few weeks". Of course, they'd probably have other domestic animals beyond bugs, but we can't really think of what exactly - ferrets, maybe? Humans domesticated them for hunting, but halflings might be able to make more use of them.

Hopefully some of this at least sparks a bit of inspiration for you - we're simply having fun typing Words. Good luck with your writing!

Ok this is so fucking good I need to stop hoarding it. Everytime I go to publish I start rereading and get distracted 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 Laios seems like the kind of guy where he thinks about “what if I wear a harness like an actual beast of burden” and then is thinking about it for the next 5 years… HELP… YEAG…..

I FEEL YOU I’m becoming a pet play enjoyer but so far nothing scratches the itch like it does with these two. I must do more research and yet…… I just keep coming back to Them. Laios spontaneously inventing the most avant-garde kinks in the dunmesh world… Chilchuck being like what the fuck. Well. What the fuck. I can’t not get him that. And it has to be made out of good materials. He’d fuck it up if he tried doing this himself. TWIST MY ARM. Sigh.

And god yeah the actual animals that half-foots would have … Chil’s upbringing vs Laios’ (with all his animals) would be so different. Brewing many scenes from this.

DREAMY SIGH. THANK U.

#Mantis always brings it… cherished member of the Chilaios Council

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snickerdoodlles · 2 months

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finally posting some background notes for red line fic under the cut !! i meant to do this [checks wrist] an embarrassingly long time ago, except i get shy talking about my writing hjgfjhfj. so!! reading thru red line here and dumping out some thoughts as we go!! for @the-cookie-of-doom <333

red line started with this post. (me, every time i say i'm not going to write something: *grabs clown nose*) i wanted a fic where Chay watched Kim fight because 1) Chay deserves this, ep14 bar fight my BELOVED, but also 2) Kim's put a lot of effort into sectioning parts of his life off from each other, so it's SUPER FUN from a writing perspective to throw them all together and watch him flounder.

planning out red line, it was either going to be Kim pov if it was pre-mafia reveal, or Chay pov post-reveal. both of which are really fun!! but i wound up going for a pre-reveal scenario mostly because this was supposed to be sHORT and a Chay pov didn't feel right without a reconciliation or a lot of setup otherwise. so Kim pov it was! then it was a little bit of rolling ideas around for why goons would be present period. i landed on Arthee's fuck-ups causing problems before Chay's first kidnapping mostly because i didn't want too many guns involved (there was just. no way Kim could've easily protected Chay in that without sending him away for real, which defeats the purpose) but i wound up really loving that premise and committing for a few other reasons:

Kim never brought any of the mafia into Chay's life in canon. all of the mafia bullshit Chay gets dragged thru is related to his own family being involved in the mafia (none of which Chay knows about!), which is very crunchy to me.

loan sharks breaking down Chay's door was his normal. like. i feel like this goes largely ignored by a lot of fandom, but Chay's normal is gang thugs destroying his stuff and him needing to patch up his loved ones. the fucking things that does to a kid.

i just really like Arthee as a plot device. he kinda got left off to the side by canon (which!! fair!! they were juggling a lot of balls there and i'm glad they dropped him in favor of other characters/plots), but you can also see how much i loved the "Chay gets kidnapped because of Arthee's debts" kimchay premises from the early fic days in here XD

writing Kim and Chay in a Tutoring Session, No Really, It Looks Like A Date But This Is Tutoring Honest date was ridiculously fun. i love putting boys in situations. but i also just??? really like them being friends??? well, flirty friends here, but it's so important to me how much Kim and Chay just like spending time together. they're two very lonely boys and i'm very happy they found each other <333

also, Kim telling himself he's not flirting while flirting and encouraging Chay to flirt with him. disaster boy <33333

i spent probably a silly amount of time thinking about what weapons to give Kim (originally, i wasn't going to give him any). i didn't want it to be knives because while that's very hot of him, knife fights are…very, very rough. far more like that one mission impossible movie than elliot from leverage or literally any other movie knife fight, and while patching up knife fight wounds is excellent, i already have that for a different WIP. i also just don't see Kim carrying outright weapons in with his university gear? maybe his first year, but not at the end of it, too much risk for things to go badly. hence, mace and brass knuckles-- the mace is one of those little keychain mace things you can buy in a pack (Kim's was a gift from a friend nearly a year prior, he was very startled and very confused by the offering lol). he got brass knuckles because i think Kim is all for something that helps minimize how hard/often he has to punch someone, but mainly because when i was looking at the keychain mace, i remembered those stupid 3D-printed keychain brass knuckles things also existed and amused myself thinking about how much they'd offend Kim. thanks to that thought train, Kim got a proper set to better break a dude's nose <3

Chay and Kim trying to shove the other behind them as the loan shark's thugs break down Chay's door still makes me laugh. i'm easy to please like that, i love that meme y'all.

Kim's running commentary on how stupid Gold Jim is was SO MUCH FUN to write. i like that Kim's irritation making Gold Jim comical didn't take away from how threatening the situation was either? like, obviously, it was less intense, that was the point, but i'm still really happy with how serious Kim feels through all of this because there is danger in the fact the idiots are looking for a fight, even if they haven't realized how outclassed they are yet.

also, i just really like the level of Kim's violence in his head. i like that it's just a stream of conscious he's not putting a lot of thought into. i just don't see Kim's relationship with violence as being a dramatic thing-- it's just that Kim's first thought any time he sees someone is how to break them, just incase.

Kim naming the thugs One thru Five was 100% for my writing convenience, i am SO delighted people loved that for him XD

Chay hitting a thug with the frying pan for interrupting his date was the first thing i knew would happen in this fic. Chay deserved to hit at least one(1) person with a frying pan in canon, so he got to do it twice here. Kim is DESPERATELY trying not to swoon, he's going to be so horny about this after the shock of everything wears off.

man, i cried a lot thru writing the action for this scene, but i'm really satisfied with how it came out actually!! WORTH IT

i am still ridiculously tickled by this particular "Oh" / Oh moment. KimChay making hearteyes at each other while the goons feel superfluous my beloved <333

Kim making a hot grunt sound while manhandling a guy twice his size into position for Chay to whack with his pan is going to fuel conservatively 83% of Chay's spank bank fantasies from here on btws.

writing Kim tell Gold Jim who he is was so much fun.

in that line of thought, if Kinn ever learned Kim threatened some thug with his name, he'd beam like a puppy. doubly-so if he realized the specific wording Kim used. his metaphorical tail would be wagging up a hurricane if he ever realized how much Kim associates him with safety and protection.

also very fun to me was Kim accidentally calling Chay his boyfriend and immediately swallowing his tongue about it. i didn't plan that, it just fell out of my brain like it did Kim's mouth and i went "okay!! we'll roll with this!!!"

"is the safety on" was Chay holding himself back by the barest skin of his teeth. he is going to get his mouth on Kim asap but he is NOT going to let some stupid emergency room trip ruin their first kiss. meanwhile, Kim's about to enter an angst spiral, lmao. (in my head, there's a dent in the floorboards from where Chay threw his frying pan away. it's amazing it didn't shock them out of their kiss, but Chay is not to be deterred dammit!!)

u all know me and how much i love my kiss fic, but ending this one with Chay having an adrenaline crash was delightful to write, i'm gonna need to do this more often XD Chay's 100% of the mindset he's either going to be horny or cry, and he'd much prefer to be kissed, tyvm!! unfortunately for him, i prefer tears. also, Kim keeps trying to use his mouth for pesky things like words, it is very unproductive towards Chay's current goal >:T

speaking of Chay's wild emotions-- i very much do not see Chay liking violence for violence's sake. he's had enough of people throwing their weight around him for a lifetime. he does, however, have the biggest thing for a hot boy coming to protect him, esp if the boy is Wik shaped. don't tell me Wik was part of Chay's gay revelation and tell me he DIDN'T have so many fantasies of Wik protecting him from the shitty loan sharks.

that said tho! reality =/= fantasy. Chay was terrified Kim was going to get hurt because of him, half his adrenaline crash was just worry for Kim :(

i'm not sure what to say about this next bit transitioning to the ending of this fic except that it was definitely the trickiest and the longest to write. Chay's drilling Kim for answers because Porsche has been absent for months, but Chay's not upset with Kim. (Kim's the one here with him! he's the one answering Chay's questions!) i wrote myself into a corner a few times with dialogue that was too accusatory for what i wanted. but also, this was the part when i was like "oh!! i know what the summary should be!!" because six thugs have nothing on the intimidation factor of Chay Has Questions XD

Kim saying he can go and Chay going "why tho????" made me laugh out loud writing this. i love Chay's terrible priorities so much. you will never be able to convince me that Chay wasn't 100% ready to accept Kim as part of the mafia so long as Kim cared about him, this boy is so ride-or-die for his whole two(2) important people. Kim trying to convince mr. obstinate he doesn't want him is even more futile than Kim trying to deny himself what he wants. esp as Chay calls Kim out for all his flirting <3

on a more serious note tho, i really like how Chay comes across during this part of the story. it's kinda like Kim's violence thing-- i see the core of Chay being very, very lonely. he really only has his brother in the world, who's not able to be home too much due to circumstance, and now isn't home at all. and then here comes Kim, reaching out to Chay and asking all about him and just plain being a friend to him-- of course Chay latched on. of course he's going to cling if he thinks Kim likes him back. he's too lonely not to.

Kim's little whispered "stay" was my driving force every time i got stuck on this fic, i love when Kim tries to tell himself all the reasons he's not allowed to want something and then ask for it anyways. that's what we in the business call character growth XD

to wrap up this very messy fic ramble, some lines i really, really love in this fic:

Kim's never wished for a gun before. Kim doesn’t like guns. They’re too fast. Too clean.

hehehe

Gold Jim chuckles menacingly. It’s like he’s following a theatre script. Kim’s going to break every bone in his body before he sets him on fire and applauds.

i'm not sure if anyone noticed??? but the specific items of torture are based on theatre/performance idioms-- "break a leg" and "you're on fire"-- hence Kim applauding at the end.

Kim reminding himself not to scare Chay by killing the idiots, light maiming ONLY

cleaning up blood is so annoying, anyone with a period can concur 😭

Chay stands over Three, wielding a frying pan with two hands and looking just as surprised with himself as the rest of them.

i'm just. so, so fond for the image of Chay staring with complete surprise between his frying pan and a guy he just gave a concussion. he just did that! he just did that???

“How’s that going for you?” Chay asks, warm and soft where he’s still pressed up against Kim, “Felt a lot like tutoring to me.”

listen. LISTEN. Kim's investiagation excuses to hang out with a cute boy he likes are so cute. Chay agrees with me. we are both so correct for this. Chay's going to tease Kim so much about this but also encourage it past this point, he loves Kim being obsessed with him too <3

#fic: red line #i'd clean this up except im feeling v sick rn hgjfj #so!! messy thought rambles it is!!#hope u like friend <33333 #kinnporsche #kimchay

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teecupangel · 3 months

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Thinking about nature spirit fifteen meter tall Desmond who lives in caves and travels by night. He can't speak but communicates by trills, whistles, chitters and growls he has deerlike ears and little nubby horns that have moss growing on them. His eyes are similar to a cat's, his teeth are pointed, nails are sharp, hard to file and he can smell a drop of blood from half a mile away. He doesn't need to eat a lot because he photosynthesises and chews dirt. He can make forests grow out of nothing but would rather not impact natural ecosystems.

He does NOT eat men OR kidnap their women... But sometimes he does rescue a few from unwanted marriages. Now because of that the tiny farmers like to fire arrows at him and scream when he's spotted in the area. Rude but more annoying than anything. Now he sleeps with boulders in front of his cave... The boulders don't completely cover his 'doorway' but farmers are apparently very bad climbers.

His ancestors on the other hand...

Now I'm thinking about all the misunderstandings that could come from this little brain baby... Maybe I should write this?

I'm a bad writer tho...

Hmmmm~

I just can't decide if he would be naked or wear 'clothes' similar to poison Ivy's.

I just love this setup too much of simply walking would make the ground bloom and wither.

It’s one of the scenes that are etched into my brain since I was a kid and I want Desmond as a nature spirit have the same thing and not have any say on it XD

The clothes though… I guess it depends on how you want him to be able to use photosynthesis. Being naked and his skin being the ‘main tool’ for photosynthesis would work or his ‘clothes’ are actually a part of him that are the ones doing the photosynthesis. Also… having clothes would give you an excuse for Desmond to change clothes depending on the season. Like, something green with fresh leaves for summer, a myriads of blooming flowers in spring, orange and yellows for autumn and the most resilient plants that still strive in winter.

Keeping him naked also means that making him wear clothes would hinder the photosynthesis which might give you a chance for a little bit of angst.

I kinda like the idea that his horns are slowly growing and the final form of the horns is also like his clothes, shifting depending on the season. Flowers would decorate them during spring, fresh leaves would sprout from them during summer, orange and yelloe leaves would fall from them during autumn and they would be completely bare a shock of pure white during winter.

(aka: like the horns of Sawsbucks but more complicated)

I personally believe that people should write if they want. What is bad in your eyes might be treasure to a reader out there looking for something specific that your story happens to have. But that final say is yours, nonny, if you want. I think this kind of story would be interesting to read, personally. Start the story slow with Desmond learning about his new body and getting used to it, sprinkle in the incidents that made humans wary of him, then the midpoint would be the chapter when he and the ancestor of your choice finally meet.

If a full fic is too much for you, you can write little snippets of the scenes you want to write instead. Those are always fun to read and there’s less pressure in making it a coherent story with a beginning, middle and end. :)

#nature spirit desmond #ngl i imagine desmond and his ancestor’s first meeting to be in the forest #where his ancestor hid from those chasing him #and he finds desmond just ‘sunbathing’#assassin's creed #desmond miles #ask and answer #teecup writes/has a plot #fic idea: assassin's creed

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darkstarofchaos · 2 months

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Let's get uhh...constructicons/Prowl (for the ask thingy)

Don't ship it.

Why don’t you ship it?

The biggest reason is that nothing about the situation was healthy for Prowl. Not only did he become part of Devastator in the most traumatic way possible, but the time afterward was physically and psychologically harmful for him as well. Outside of that, there just isn't much for me to ship there? Prowl sees the Constructicons as a weapon and the Constructicons are just fanboys (up until the narrative decides Prowl needs to be utterly alone and they drop him like a hot potato). The whole situation was incredibly wasted potential.

2. What would have made you like it?

A different writer.

On its own, Prowl being forced into Devastator isn't a deal breaker for me because the Constructicons weren't the ones responsible. They did decide afterwards that they liked Prowl and wanted to hang with him, but until then, he was never even meant to be part of the team; just a disposable test subject for integrating someone new with an existing combiner. And I do honestly get the appeal of, "You were disposable to them, but not to us". Goodness knows Prowl needs someone in his corner. Heck, I can even get behind the angst of "this situation is physically hurting Prowl, but none of them - including him - want to stop".

So the setup was great. Super unhealthy, but you can do some pretty interesting things with unhealthy. But as they say, the devil's in the details.

See, I like the Constructicons. I do not like the way John Barber writes them as an interchangeable amalgam instead of letting them have some individuality. And I really don't like how he tried to resolve that conflict with earlier portrayals by saying that combining "rots away the individual". I like the idea that the Gestalt mind affects its components, not the idea that it supercedes them. I also don't like Prowl's recent instability being ascribed to the combining process and not, y'know. The traumatic events surrounding it. But we get this explanation from Galvatron, who delivers it alongside lies about Prowl killing Spike's father, so I can ignore it. I can pretend it's just another lie.

What I can't ignore is that Arcee doesn't hear this and think, oh, maybe it's not Prowl's fault he's been so erratic lately. Maybe I should see if he's okay when I get a chance. Nope. She just turns on him completely. Because the post-Dark Cybertron arc is the "let's tear away what little support Prowl still has" arc.

So I don't like how the Constructicons were written, I don't like the in-universe explanation for how they were written, and I hate the way everyone saw Prowl falling apart (including people who dared to call him a friend, Optimus), and just went, eh, I don't really care. He's just bad. And then, just to make sure Prowl loses everyone, the Constructicons turn on him too. Because apparently they can spend time in his head and like what they see, but it's still somehow a surprise that the mech who tolerated them because they were useful might not actually want them the way they want him.

Get these mechs a different writer.

3. Despite not shipping it, do you have anything positive to say about it?

As I mentioned above, the setup is great. It had a lot of potential, not just in terms of the relationship, but for character development, worldbuilding, and even the introduction of something like chronic illness with Prowl's physical health being affected by combining (again, he was introduced to the team as an experiment in adding bots to a combiner. It would make perfect sense if it wasn't an entirely successful experiment).

I also like a lot of the art and fics I've seen for them, even if most people seem to ignore the inherent angst in favor of sweet, funny, and fluffy pieces. I just wish more people dived into the physical and psychological impacts, whether in a shippy way or not.

#transformers #Prowl #Constructicons #Prowl/Constructicons #It's too bad I have no interest in writing IDW fic #The whole 'Prowlastator' thing is fascinating #but I can't stand most of the characters I'd have to write to play with the idea #Might use a G1 AU to play with it on my own terms idk

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magicaldragons · 2 months

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hi! been reading s&z and just wanted to know, is this going to be a long fic? if there is anything else you want to say about (not spoilers ofc) what would it be, like what did you envision the fic for? sorry just curious about the bts of the fic

and I am really excited for the fifth chapter mentioned in the tags!

hey love, thank you for asking! it's so cool that you're interested in the bts:

so, s&o started out as a drabble, which came to me shortly after i first watched – because salaar was so perfectly made for omegaverse, like it just fits in. no tailoring needed.

there were two ideas in particular that interested me:

if varadha was an omega, he never would have revealed it, he would have done everything to keep that information to himself. so, how far would he go, and how would it work? so, yes, this fic will include varadha hiding his dynamic (but obviously not from the one person he trusts with this information, the one person he trusts with himself)

if varadha and deva were soulmates, how would that manifest? because the most important part of salaar isn't that varadeva are tied together by fate. it's that they will always choose each other. so i had to stay true to that, and i wondered how it would affect the twenty five years they spent apart.

so initially, there were two scenes i had in mind:

• one of varadha's presentation (which is the fifth chapter i mention in the tags) and

• what happens in jail before the voting (can't say too much for risk of spoilers, lol)

BUT the concept snowballed and gained exposition and plotlines, so yes, to answer your question, this will be a longer fic with the way things are looking there are parts i have written that are very dark (think: would require trigger warnings) so i'm debating on whether to include them and keep this authentic and raw, or to keep them out and make this a lighter experience (though, the angst will remain), so everyone: feel free to give me suggestions regarding that

also, the concept and setup for this fic is not at all what i had planned when i first started writing, (which is why it's taking time to move the chapters around and add sections as i figure out the best way to tell this story) – that's why s&o is a fic that i will gradually release while simultaneously working on other fics, just so i can make sure i give it the time it needs without losing patience oof

which also leads me to say: as i shift sections around, chapter five may not remain chapter five, and i honestly am not entirely sure as to when it will show up, but i do hope you enjoy the fic as i update

– rey <3

#it was really fun answering this. i adore sharing parts of the process #(but i never know what to share without a prompt so don't apologize anon! thank you)#salaar #sandalwood and ozone #varadeva

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atalossofwords · 6 days

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YOU TASTE THE SILVER - IvanTill WIP (PART 1)

Hi y'all. The brainrot took me with no warning, and I've written 5k for these two just the last two days. I've no idea how much I'll write, but I'm going to squeeze the serotonin for as long as I can lmao

Anyhow, this is a streamer/actor AU that somehow evolved into a sugar daddy AU. Till is a streamer, and Ivan is a famous actor who found him when he was a small streamer and fell in love; he's been sending donations for a good while now, but they've never communicated outside of it.

Until Till opens his PO box and Ivan's need to spoil Till is too much, at least. Then all bets are off, and Till finally starts thinking more about the stranger who keeps sending him gifts. I have a basic outline for it all, but I'm going with vibes first, since I mostly just want to write them and torture Ivan.

I'm going to be posts little snippets of what I've writer so far over the next few days, so please don't be afraid to come to my inbox to ask about them!

This was inspired by this fic! Check it out!

Till wasn't the most famous streamer there was. Not anything near that, actually, though he thinks he does well enough.

He has an established fanbase, almost 500k of them, he's sold some merchandise and collabed with some pretty nice people. He likes streaming, varying between his songwriting and recording processes and any new video game that catches his fancy.

When he started, he didn't think he'd do this for a living. He probably wouldn't be able to afford it, being a struggling musician as he was, for once.

He couldn't blame his comfortable living situation solely on one person, no, since that would be incredibly inconsiderate of the rest of his fans, but this one Navi person definitely funded Till's move from his old apartment mostly by themselves.

Case in point.

NAVI (TILL'S ATM) DONATED $100: Hyung, how's the new house?

Till reads the donation out loud, ignoring his chat going a little crazy over Navi's donation. By now, Till is used to Navi only ever sending messages through donations. He'd be so flustered, in the beginning, and worried enough he almost disabled them. Luckily Hyuna talked him out of it.

"It's going well. As everyone can see, my studio isn't done yet," he says, gesturing behind himself into the empty expanse of freshly painted wall. At least he'd painted it black already. "but the rest is going okay. I'm really sorry for the week I had to take off, everyone."

He quickly scams the chat, his heart feeling warm as all the people watching rush to reassure him that it's not a problem, he should take care of himself, and how glad they are he managed to move from his shitty rented apartment.

"Actually, I have some news for you all." He scratches his neck, a nervous habit, and looks to the side. Hyuna convinced him to do this, so he knows it's something streamers do, but he can't help being anxious about it. "Since I moved, and this place needs some decorations, I was thinking of opening a PO box and doing an... what's it called? Unboxing?"

The chat is going crazy, he can barely keep up, oh god. He feels his cheeks heat.

"An unboxing live and then decorate my stream setup with some stuff I get. Would you guys like that?"

His chat is a mess of "yeses" and incoherent screams, and Till can't help but smile a little. He's got to say, he's looking forward to this.

The following weeks are a bit of a mess. He streams less than normal, still setting up his new apartment; he goes with Hyuna to buy electronics she swears will make his streaming better.

Dewey, his brother, goes with him to buy a new shelving unit and help him set up all his new furniture. Isaac is strangely fixated on saying Till needs rugs and other things, otherwise his apartment is "just a place, not a home, bro", apparently.

He checks in with his PO box frequently, each day more excited by all the packages he got. After two weeks he announces on twitter he'll be closing the PO box in a week since he wants to be able to open all the gifts on stream and he's already got a good amount of them.

The day after his announcement, he goes to pick up any new packages to store in his living room since he doesn't want to burden the office workers and finds a package that makes his stomach twist in itself.

It's a large box, clearly packed by hand instead of the usual post-service stamps. And it has a large sticker reading "FROM: NAVI" on it.

Till doubts anyone would use the name to get his attention, since he does treat all his viewers equally, so this really is from Navi. He wonders what is in it, since Navi clearly has money to spare and intends to spend it on Till.

"It's probably a maid dress." Hyua says, helping him lug it all to his apartment.

"It's not!" He splutters, mortified. Hyuna raises an incredulous eyebrow. "It's probably snacks, or something like that. Navi's said they travel a lot." That, somehow, just makes the eyebrow twitch higher.

"You remember what your viewers say?" She asks, hip-checking his door open. He follows, frowning a little. He always remembers what his viewers say.

Navi, obviously, since they only talk in donations, but also a few other regulars. Kirby has an older sister they're sharing the computer with; Siren started learning the guitar because of Till, and is doing well for himself; Jaewoon – with the username Till's Merch Overlord – draws and is currently suffering through art university, BonBon who has a one-year-old and listens to Till while doing his household chores.

"Yeah? I mean, there's only so many people who regularly chat. And out of those, a good part are my mods." He says, shrugging. He knows Hyuna pays someone to mod for her, but Till didn't think he'd need a mod, since he never expected to get so many views. He kept going without mods for so long that the most active members of the community ended up auto-modding the rest, at which point Till just reached out and asked if they wanted to mod, and now he pays them for it because he felt bad otherwise.

(Of course, Navi isn't a mod. They'd fit Till's criteria, but they never chatted normally, so it was kind of hard to ask.)

"Aaah, you're just too wholesome, heartbreaker." Hyuna says, sighing, the old nickname that still makes Till confused coming out with a teasing lilt. She waves him off before he can say anything, though, plopping the box on the couch and grinning at Dewey. "Hey, this one you'll definitely want to check!"

Till rolls his eyes as his brother 'oohs' and 'aahs' over the package, Isaac peering over with a pocket knife ready to pry it open. When Till mentioned opening a PO box, he insisted on checking the gifts beforehand, just to make sure they were all stream-appropriate and, most importantly, not dangerous for Till.

He was grateful his brother cared, but he was less amused by the teasing and hint-dropping they'd been doing over the content of the packages. He leaves them to it, moving to the kitchen to get some much-needed coffee.

Looks like Isaac bought bungeo-ppang, so Till fills a mug and picks one, nibbling at it and looking into his fridge. He should go buy more food, but there's a seven-eleven right across his street, so he almost never bothers stocking up. He does need to get more tea, though, since he dislikes drinking water, and for reasons unknown, his chat enjoys it when he drinks on-stream.

He finishes updating his list and walks back to the living room, where Dewey has already closed the package back up, but is holding a small parcel in his hand, frowning. Hyuna looks over as he approaches, a complicated expression on her face.

"The rest of the package is fine to open on-stream, but I think this one might be best off-stream." She says, and the lack of any teasing or barb makes him worried. She must've read that in his expression, because she grins. "Do you happen to know why this Navi person likes you so much? I wouldn't mind getting some of these myself."

Till can't help but scowl, snatching the parcel from Dewey's hands. He doesn't know Navi, not really, but they're still one of his first viewers, and they do kind of give Till a lot of money.

"Keep your hands away from my viewers, hag." He has to move fast to escape her grab, which soon develops into a little keep-away with the parcel, soon ending up with Dewey on the ground howling with laughter as Isaac tries to haul Hyuna off him, curled on himself on the ground to keep the parcel to himself.

"Ugh, you brat! Just open it!!" She exclaims, sitting down on Dewey's lap, making the older man yelp. Till huffs, but sits up to analyse the gift.

It seems to be an envelope, like many of the letters he got, but there was something inside of it, making it weirdly bulky. Till folds it open, tipping the envelope so whatever it is can fall on his open hand, and stares.

There is a pair of... earrings, on his hand.

Diamond earrings, to be precise.

That the fuck.

Till stares at it, then peers inside the envelope. Nothing weird falls out, like a damned credit card or pure gold, but a little recipe with the return address of a high-class jewellery store makes itself known. The rest of the envelope contains a certification for the damned diamonds.

Till curls up back again, head in his hands, groaning. His face is so hot you could cook an egg in it.

Navi got him diamond piercings because Till complained once, months ago, that he wanted to switch out his piercings but didn't have the money for it.

"C'mon Till! You didn't tell me you had a sugar daddy!" Hyuna jeers, and from the hiss and yelp, Dewey just dropped her. The sound of them bickering – Hyuna insisting this Navi person has to be after Till's virtue, and Dewey being insulted by the thought of someone going after his little brother like that, plus Isaac googling the store to throw fuel on the fire – is enough to distract Till form his own freakout.

He sits back up, his face still red, to study the piercings better. There are six items in total. One is a simple diamond stud, a tiny and delicate stone, probably for his second hole. A pair of bigger stones, with four elongated asymmetrical spikes, making it look like a shining star, probably for his first hole. One's a series of round stones inlaid together in a belt, forming a hoop, for his helix piercing. The final ones are two silver loops, delicate and silver, for his double auricle piercing.

He thinks if he puts any of those on, he's going to spontaneously combust.

(Later that night, after Hyuna and Isaac went home and Dewey crashed on his couch, Till locks his bedroom door and tries them on. The pair of star-shaped earrings go on both ears, the tiny stud on his left, alongside the helix, which he takes a while to get on since it is so finicky, he pierced it himself with a safety pin in high school. The hoops go on his right, looking a little lonely with just the earring, remembering Till that he really wishes he had money to get a constellation on that ear.

He's wearing a simple white shirt, ready for bed, that slips off his shoulder to show off the simple moon covered by clouds on his clavicle, clashing with the TILL tattoo he has over his neck. He turns this way and that, watching the diamonds shine, and feels almost bad for using them.

Why did Navi send this to him? What did Till do, to deserve something as delicate as this? He's not the kindest of people, he's kind of an asshole actually, all shouting and side eyes. He's not the kind of guy that can properly appreciate such nice jewellery, not the kind of person that should be appreciated like this.

Still. The diamond shines against his skin, the silver compliments his white hair. He takes most of them off, only keeping the simple snake bites. He doesn't want to somehow dirty up the diamonds.)

part two

#writing #wip #ivantill #alien stage

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