#noone even said bless you

[writerpeach]

Insatiable

IVE Yujin x m!reader

17k+ words

Part two of Overindulgent

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Read on AFF

You shouldn’t have slept in so late. 

The sun’s been up for hours now, but you’ve tried your best to ignore it piercing through the curtains. It doesn’t help that you’re all wrapped up in sheets that don’t even belong to you—sheets that still smell like last night, that smell just like Yujin. You don’t even know what time it is, and if you were to check your phone right now, you’d see at least a dozen snoozed alarms. It’s late enough that you know you’ve already missed your first class, and if you don’t leave the sheets, you’ll miss your second. But you can’t be bothered to move a muscle when you’re so comfortable, so warm, so enveloped in Yujin’s warm embrace. 

Sleeping the entire day away sounds like a great option, but you can feel Yujin stirring awake as evident from the gentle kiss she plants on your cheek. You don't want to wake up. The only thing you want is to fall back asleep and ignore everything. 

It’s not like you’d miss anything important, but Yujin remains persistent, with soft lips peppering your neck and shoulder with kisses that are much too tender for you to resist.

"Yujin, it’s too early," you mumble, voice hoarse and heavy with exhaustion.

“It’s almost noon. Did I wear daddy out too much?” Yujin asks, with sleep still caught in her voice, and you can hear the way she’s smiling without even looking at her beautiful face. 

“Noon is still early. Let me sleep.”

Your request falls on deaf ears, because Yujin continues her assault of affection and you can feel her arms pulling you closer to her warm body. You try to suppress the groan that bubbles up in your throat when her lips find that one spot behind your ear, that one spot that has the best chance of waking you up and getting you going. 

"What do I get in return?" she teases, and you can hear her cute giggles.

“Nothing,” you reply, without missing a beat. 

"Not even a kiss?"

"No."

"That's not fair, daddy,” Yujin whines and squeezes you tighter, burying her head into your neck to inhale your scent before kissing your skin all over again. You want to protest again, but those lips are doing wonders against your body and she's doing everything she can to get you to wake up. 

Yujin is relentless, but just like her younger roommate Wonyoung, always ends up getting what she wants, anyway. So you give in, grumpier than ever, and roll over to face her, putting down all your barriers. “One kiss.” 

She doesn’t say anything else. Yujin just grins, leans forward to seal your lips with hers, then kisses your cheek, your forehead, and the tip of your nose. 

“I said one—“ 

“That was one kiss. One kiss on each part of daddy’s cute face.” 

You want to roll your eyes at her, but Yujin’s so goddamn adorable this early in the morning, like waking up to a puppy staring at you, that you can’t possibly stay annoyed for long. 

“Fine. I‘ll get up.” It doesn't take much to convince you when it's her, so reluctantly you get out of bed with Yujin attached to your arm, rubbing your sore muscles with a gentle touch. You’re still in her bedroom, so it doesn’t take long for you to spot the pile of discarded clothes scattered across the floor, but you only bother to grab your shirt, since you’ve slept in your boxers, and pull it over your head, just enough to make yourself look presentable. 

Yujin giggles behind you, and you give a still sleepy glance at her over your shoulder, watching the pretty smile on her face extend in a way that brings you out of your sleep-fueled daze. She kisses your neck one last time, then disappears inside her giant closet, re-emerging in a tank top and the shortest booty shorts you've ever seen on her. Yujin's never had much of a problem of showing herself off, which is a blessing because that sculpted body of hers is something else.

“Stop staring, daddy,” she playfully says, but you know she loves the attention, and she could have picked any other outfit than something that leaves so little to the imagination. 

“You wanted me awake, now I’m awake.” You don’t even try to hide the way your eyes wander her body, how her top barely covers up her midriff, and how those black shorts ride up and hug the soft flesh of her cheeks so well. There’s nothing sexier than Yujin’s confidence, which fuels your gaze that continues to be shameless, mapping out the curves of her body, and you can’t look away for a second, not when Yujin puts herself on display like this.

“I’ll go make some coffee, daddy.” 

Yujin spins on her heels and gives you an even better view of that plump backside that practically swallows up the tiny shorts that serve to highlight the fullness of her thighs. Her tight butt bounces with every step, and it’s downright mesmerizing as she makes her way downstairs towards the kitchen. You're following right behind, eyes glued to Yujin’s delicious body, to the way those wide hips sway—and it’s way too early to be drooling over her like this, but you can’t help it. 

When you take a seat at the kitchen island, Yujin pulls out two coffee mugs out from the cabinet and starts the process of grinding the coffee beans. Before you met her, you survived off the cheap stuff from the cafeteria, because you don’t know the first thing about making coffee (it tasted horrendous but got the job done). Still, watching the way Yujin goes through the routine, it’s all very meticulous and fascinating at the same time, how effortlessly it all seems when she’s filled the room with the rich scent of fresh coffee. After only a few minutes, the entire process is done, and Yujin is expertly pouring brewed coffee into your mug from a French press, like she’s been doing this her whole life. It feels so domestic, and it’s a wonderful start to the day. 

“Here you go, daddy." Yujin places the warm mug in front of you, then puts a couple sugar cubes in it to add just a little sweetness, stirring it with a smile. She knows your tastes perfectly by now, and even though you’re always teased for how  you take your coffee, you’d drink it black if you had to, just because she’s the one to make it. 

The first sip is like heaven, but you don’t expect anything less, and it has you closing your eyes, leaning back in your chair with a deep sigh of appreciation. 

“Thank you,” you say, taking another sip of the rich beverage as Yujin settles herself right beside you. “It’s delicious.”

Yujin doesn’t even bother to sip from her own mug, instead basking in the steam’s aroma, and she’s more interested in watching you drink, watching the enjoyment in your eyes after every sip. You drink your coffee with the littlest of sips, both to savor the taste, and to not burn your tongue while you cradle your mug, waiting for it to become a more acceptable temperature. 

"You know what would be even more delicious?" Yujin asks, nuzzling her face into your neck, and you’re almost scared to answer her, because you already know where this is going. 

“No, I don’t,” you say with much hesitation. “What?” The last word rolls off your tongue with feigned ignorance, but you already know what Yujin is about to say as you take another sip. 

“Breakfast. Do you want some breakfast, daddy?” 

While it might be worded like one, you know it’s not an innocent question. 

Waiting for her to drop the pretense, the grip on your mug tightens at Yujin’s words. Before you can bother responding, Yujin steals your mug and moves it away from the edge of the counter, hopping up to take its place on the island herself. 

“I’ve got something daddy loves to eat,” Yujin purrs, with a smirk that tugs on the corners of her lips. Her thighs spread apart on the counter, those ridiculous long legs dangling off the island, and those shorts look so thin without any underwear underneath that you can clearly make out the outline of her cunt. 

“I’ve barely started drinking my coffee,” you say with false annoyance, as you try not to salivate, yet all you can do is envision yourself in between those thick thighs, squeezing your head enough to deprive you of air. 

“But don’t I taste better?” Yujin tries to entice you by rubbing her inner thighs, trying to lure you towards what she has planned. For now, you resist, remaining calm in your chair, sipping on your coffee and doing everything to deny Yujin’s seductive advances. 

Ignoring her question is the only real option here, even while she’s tantalizing you with those legs spread so obscenely wide, it’s impossible not to stare. You’ll fold eventually, but you have to pretend that you have the upper hand. Yujin knows you too well by now, knows what works and what doesn’t, so she tries another approach, knowing you can’t stop staring at those alluring legs that activate all the right spots in your brain. 

During your next sip, you feel Yujin’s feet caressing your crotch through your boxers, while her toes flex around your hardening shaft that causes you to nearly choke on your coffee. Yujin knows how to apply the right amount of friction to get your full attention, and the moment those gorgeous soles are teasing your growing cock, you’ve lost all interest in your coffee. 

Yujin doesn’t say a word. She just playfully wiggles her toes around your length, squeezing it a little harder, adding just a little more friction. It takes a moment to compose yourself, gripping the edge of the chair tight and taking a deep breath, knowing you can’t do anything but succumb to her teasing feet that press into the bulge against your boxers. 

She knows she has you now. Yujin knows she has you wrapped around her little finger, that you’ll worship every part of her, from head to toe, and then you’ll do it all over again. 

If you’re not careful, Yujin’s going to make you explode, but that’s not exactly your choice to make. 

“If daddy doesn’t wanna have me for breakfast, then I guess I’ll just have to keep playing with your cock like this. But I’m not gonna make you cum. Not gonna let you get even close, not until you taste me.” 

It’s amazing how her words are both bratty and commanding at the same time. You know Yujin isn’t going to stop rubbing those pretty little toes all over your cock until you’re crumbling beneath her, because she’s only interested in what she wants—and what she wants is watching you squirm. 

This is only the start. It's only going to get worse and worse, and you’re already trying so hard not to moan, trying hard not to stain your boxers. Resisting is all so pointless, so futile, because Yujin has this chapter written, and you’re just hoping it doesn’t end with a cliffhanger. 

“You want more of this, don’t you? I know how much daddy wants me. Wanna feel my toes in your mouth so bad, don’t you? Or do you wanna rip these shorts off me and take me right here?”

It’s frustrating how good Yujin is at teasing you, how she always has the upper hand, and knows that in her presence, you’ll never say no to her. Your defenses break down bit by bit, and even through the thin material of your underwear, the pressure on your aching cock becomes too much to bear. You’re falling apart at the seams, and there’s no way to stop the thread from unraveling. 

In the end, all that resistance was just an illusion, and you cave in, because of course you do. You’re dying to get your hands on Yujin, to taste every part of her, to rip those clothes off that she just put on. Yujin knows you better than you know yourself. And you don’t care how weak it makes you, because you’re hungry, you’re famished, not for breakfast, but for Yujin herself. 

Ever so slowly, you lift one of those pretty feet from your crotch, bringing it to your mouth, and plant gentle kisses all over the soft sole of her foot, from her heel, to the middle of her high arch, then every one of her toes gets attention, from the big toe, all the way down to her small toe, and nothing gets left out. Yujin giggles with each kiss, while you give her what she wants, and she loves this part—she loves getting pampered by you, loves watching you worship her feet, especially when she has your undivided attention. 

So as you pepper kisses along the length of her lengthy sole, Yujin keeps her other foot wrapped around your shaft, still massaging your needy cock through your boxers, and it’s obvious how much you needed this. 

"You’re so hard," Yujin murmurs, her toes curling around your swelling tip, and bites her bottom lip in anticipation as you lick along her foot, your hungry, wet tongue, painting stripes along the bottom of her pretty sole. You trace her delicate foot from heel up to her toes, savoring the taste, and pressing your face against it before taking a deep inhale. 

“God, Yujin,” you desperately groan, and you can smell her distinct scent even with your eyes closed. “Every part of you is just perfect.”

It's sweet, like vanilla, with a little hint of musk from sweat that you lick up, the salty flavor adding to your desire to worship Yujin. You continue your devotion to those priceless feet, switching from left to right, and running your tongue over Yujin's cute toes, tasting them one by one. It’s such an indulgent, shameless act, but she looks so relaxed while you lick all over her perfect, smooth soles, toes curling when you suck on them between your lips, coating them with your saliva, and god—you could just do this for hours. 

“That feels fantastic, daddy,” Yujin says, and stops teasing you just long enough to press both feet against your face, letting you have your fill, as she enjoys watching you kiss, lick, and worship them. Her soles rub all over your mouth and chin, the tip of her toes indulging your eager tongue before her feet part to let you lick them both clean, and then you’re taking as many of those toes into your mouth as will fit, moaning as you suck on them, until you’re completely lost in savoring every inch of perfection. 

It's a sight to behold, and Yujin is enjoying every second of it. 

And then you’re in for one more round of vigorous worship, slobbering on Yujin’s soles, slurping on her toes, getting to taste as much of her pristine feet as you can, before her toes slip from between your lips with a loud, messy pop. You’ve hardly had enough, pressing both soles to either side of your face, which makes her smile at the lewd look of bliss that takes over, as you take another deep whiff, completely intoxicated by her utterly divine feet that deserve every bit of attention. 

It’s out of the realm of possibility to think straight when you have Yujin up on a pedestal, with that body just waiting to be devoured, and it’s not enough now that you’ve been serving at the church of Yujin for the past several moments, transformed into a ravenous animal, left with an uncomfortable erection in your boxers that she needs to take responsibility for—

You’re going to do just that when you get out of your chair, pulling Yujin’s body towards you so her ass sits right on the edge of the island, and yank her shorts down, taking a moment to appreciate her pretty, bare cunt. There’s a bit of surprise on her face when you take the initiative, but you’re not letting a single second go to waste before you’re kissing her thighs with the same fervor, rubbing your face into the soft, supple flesh, licking them, biting them, listening to how she gasps when you’re tasting her sensitive skin. 

Your cock continues to throb with anticipation, and you can’t hold yourself back, because there’s a fire that’s been lit inside you. 

Yujin bites her lip hard, stifling a whimper as she looks down to watch you bury your head in between her legs. You continue licking along her inner thighs, working your way up, but never going where she wants you to most. It’s a slow process, turning the tables and teasing Yujin, savoring the taste of her thighs while her gorgeous pussy glistens, begging for attention, clit throbbing in need of your tongue.

“Daddy, no more teasing,” she pleads, but you’re not going to listen, even while her hands guide your head, you’re intent on kissing her thighs, leaving behind little love bites that have her squirming on the kitchen counter. Yujin lets out an adorable, frustrated little whine, but you pay her no attention as you run your tongue along the soft flesh of her thigh, dangerously close to her pussy. 

“Yujin, you’ve gotten me this fucking hard, so you’re going to wait,” you say, looking up to watch the reaction on her face every time you plant your lips on her soft skin. 

“No, daddy, I can’t. I’m so fucking wet,” Yujin says with a breathless, needy whine, and she parts her folds with two fingers to give you a better look. “Need you to taste me, need your mouth on my cunt. Right now, daddy.” 

You’re trying to keep it all up, keep whatever semblance of control you have, but Yujin keeps touching herself in front of you, letting you see how wet she is, how ready she is to take your cock. After all you’ve done, you falter, because you can’t wait either, and you’re just as zealous to feast on her cunt. 

It’s embarrassing how you’re falling back on your words, but who could blame you when you’ve been treated to such a delicious-looking meal inches in front of your face? So without a second thought, you dive in, tongue first, finally pressing your mouth against Yujin’s needy little cunt, and she lets out a gasp of relief when you’re tasting her slit. 

Her pussy is already soaking wet for you, and it only takes one more lick before Yujin’s a whimpering mess, clutching on to the end of the counter as you work your tongue inside her, gathering up her sweet juices that spill out to keep your tongue satiated. 

“Daddy, fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop, need you to eat my pussy,” Yujin says, and she’s torn between begging for more, and taking it, but the way she’s threading her fingers through your hair lets you know which route she’s about to take. Either way, you’re not about to stop lapping at her pussy when she takes control, pulls your face in deeper, and she’s guiding your head between her spread legs, urging you to lick every last inch of her. 

It only gets better when those immaculate, supple thighs shut around your head, trapping you in place. And it doesn’t even matter that you can’t even breathe, because you don’t need air, not when you have Yujin to breathe in, and she keeps you right where she wants you. Her thighs feel soft and warm, so utterly divine that when they press against the sides of your face while you devour her, you’re in absolute nirvana. 

Yujin’s taste is nothing but intoxicating, so dangerously sweet that you can’t help but drink up every drop that spills from her perfect cunt, and you’re going to eat her out like she deserves, like your entire purpose in life is to make her feel good. You’re a mere mortal in comparison, and you’ll keep devouring her pussy until she cums on your face as many times as she pleases, because that’s the least you can do for a goddess like her. 

"Yujin, you taste so fucking good," you groan, burying your tongue in her silky folds. She lets out a little yelp when you drag your tongue up her slit, and suck her clit into your mouth, flicking the tip of your tongue across it. Yujin keeps tugging at your hair, desperate to force your tongue deeper inside, and she doesn’t care if she chokes you with her thighs—and you’ll welcome it. 

Your mouth is so fucking wet, but you’re still insatiable for more, because your tongue just can’t get enough of Yujin’s juices, a thirst that will never be quenched. Yujin dictates every little move you make, from how fast your tongue moves inside her, to how often she lets you come up for air, which matters little when all you can breathe is her heavenly arousal. She keeps her thighs locked around your head, a position you never want to escape from, wanting to stay trapped in that suffocating warmth as you keep your lips locked around her clit, and you’ll eat Yujin out for eternity if she lets you. 

"Fuck,” Yujin says, letting a single syllable of her satisfaction slip out between moans. “You’re so good, so good at that daddy. Need you to keep eating me like this. Need you to make me cum.” 

You’ll listen to anything she demands at this point, even as she’s whining and whimpering, while you explore every bit of her soaked folds, sucking hard on her clit, and you’re long past addicted to every drop that fills your lips. This is all familiar, you’ve done this enough times that you can do in your sleep, so you know how to get Yujin to the finish line and then some—but you also know that Yujin’s satisfaction never comes after just one orgasm. You’re going to keep your tongue buried between Yujin’s thighs, going to keep sucking on her clit, and even if your jaw gets sore, you won’t stop, not until she’s begging you to. 

It may not get to that point, when the moment Yujin arches her back off the counter, her thighs start quivering with anticipation, and you know she can’t hold on much longer. Your mouth works overtime to draw out that much desired release, as the grip on your hair becomes so tight, so unrelenting, that you’ve done everything right when her fingernails dig into your scalp. Nothing’s going to stop her from climaxing, from making an absolute mess on your face, and you’re welcoming it all, licking her sweet pussy like your life depends on it. 

“Daddy, I’m gonna—fuck!“ Yujin cries out, and then she’s convulsing on the counter, letting out the prettiest whines and moans as she cums, she cums hard on your face and her thighs begin violently shaking around your head, while you’re drinking up as much of it as you can. 

With you slurping all the juices from her sensitive pussy, Yujin lets out the prettiest whines, gasping for air as she squirms on the kitchen counter, unable to remain still, unable to do anything but ride it all out. She keeps her thighs wrapped around your head, because she doesn’t want you to stop licking her soaking wet folds, and you wouldn't dream of denying her more bliss. 

“Make me cum again, daddy. Make me cum again on your cute face,” she demands, and you’re happy to oblige her without hesitation. Not that you have much of a choice with your face pressed into her messy cunt, but you’re still eager to deliver more pleasure until her toes curl tighter, and her entire body shudders from the blissful waves of another orgasm crashing into her. 

Now that you’ve gotten that sensitivity going, the second time Yujin cums it’s just as beautiful, even if it doesn’t last as long. You’re almost disappointed when the pressure around your head releases, because you’ve grown accustomed to inhaling the scent of Yujin’s pussy for what feels like forever. But when her thighs spread open for worship once more, and you lick them clean, she flashes you a look that you know means she’s not even close to being satisfied. It’s a look you know all too well.

“Daddy got to have his breakfast, so now it’s time for mine.” 

Not even taking a moment to let her stamina refill, Yujin hops off the counter and palms your bulge. She makes short work of your underwear as it falls to your ankles, and your cock is already twitching for attention that she gives right away, stroking with slow, methodical pumps as she captures you in her sultry gaze. 

The last of your patience runs thin, but Yujin's ran out long ago. 

You’re dying to be balls deep inside her, and the feeling is mutual for her. There’s no more waiting to be dealt with as she grabs the hem of her tank top, yanking It over her head, and you follow in her footsteps until you’re both stripped of your clothes, standing bare ass naked in the middle of the kitchen. 

There's only a moment to appreciate the parts of her body that you’ve yet to worship, how perfect those breasts look before her hands are already back on your cock, pumping with a tight enough grip to almost hurt. You take the chance to get your mouth on her tits, sucking on her taut nipples, swirling your tongue around while she pumps you, until Yujin releases your cock and leans back on the counter. Yujin is just so damn perfect, and you keep showing that by kissing her abs in just the right places, moving down to the curve of her hips, then back up her chest, peppering along her collarbone. 

Yujin stops you when you get up to her neck and has this glint in her eye that can’t be ignored. “Fuck me, daddy. Right here, right now. Wanna feel your big cock in my little cunt, and then—“

The rest is a mystery as Yujin breaks eye contact long enough to spin around, bending over the counter to present you with an irresistible view of her tight ass. You can see the wetness glistening along her folds at this angle, and it’s impossible to hide how desperate you are to bury your aching cock in her cunt. It doesn’t help the way Yujin shakes her ass at you, tempting you with those full cheeks that would have you on your knees if not for how badly she needs to be fucked. 

“Daddy,” Yujin growls, sounding more like a warning as she flashes a look over her shoulder that’s a silent message for you to get inside her, right now. 

Almost as soon as you line up behind Yujin's body, she grabs the base of your shaft, guiding it between her legs, and takes away any chance to savor that initial penetration when she presses it against her slick opening.

It's overwhelming the way your cockhead slips between that silky flesh, parting those pretty wet folds and Yujin at least lets you do the rest, sinking inch after inch, until there’s no part of you left to bury inside her. 

Yujin’s incredibly tight, but always feels so warm and welcoming, and there’s no need to take things slow, not when she’s all out of patience, pushing her ass back to meet you. It’s a signal heard loud and clear. When you grab her wide hips, your shaft plunges inside that familiar heat, and the grip her velvety walls offer is so fucking good it makes your mind go numb as you start to move faster inside her. 

“Fuck, there you go, daddy. Pound me, pound my little cunt, make me feel full,” Yujin says, like that wasn’t always the plan from the start. There’s no way your thrusts are anything but deep and unforgiving, bottoming her out in no time, and she takes you so well, so effortlessly, that you’re the one having trouble adjusting instead of her. 

“Yujin,” you start to say, but the way her pussy stretches around your cock, allowing you free rein to give her a proper dickdown leaves your mind blank. There’s nothing of importance to say other than how perfect she feels, or how good you want to make her feel, so you’ll just shut up and keep pounding her tight cunt. 

You’re already hitting so deep, your cockhead kissing her insides, and it has you falling into a quick, powerful tempo that leaves Yujin clutching the edges of the counter for support. It’s a view that’s only made better when Yujin looks back, letting you see the deep lust in her eyes, the kind that’ll keep your hips moving until they give out. It’s everything you love about this position, letting you appreciate the best parts of Yujin’s body, particularly the way that thick ass jiggles when your hips meet, when she pushes back against you and matches your own pace. 

Despite the fact that you’re, in theory, the one in control, Yujin is guiding the reins, demanding you fuck her harder, digging her nails into your thigh when your cock doesn’t move as fast as she likes, when it doesn’t rearrange her guts hard enough. There’s no doubt she’s calling the shots, there never was, and the little glances she gives over her shoulder serve as a stark reminder to pound her pussy without her telling you to. 

You match Yujin’s groans with every thrust you make, burying your cock so deep inside her warmth, and holding such a tight grip on those flawless hips she’ll bruise no doubt, but she doesn’t even care—Yujin just wants you to keep this pace up, keep pulling her back whenever you ram inside her. She can take your cock so well, even as your pace grows erratic by her orders, but you never let up, because she needs your cock like air, needs to be stretched like her perfect little cunt deserves. 

And you’re going to listen to whatever Yujin says, even as your hips start to burn from drilling her cunt so hard, putting every amount of force into your thrusts until she’ll feel it in the next morning. You're already so fucking close with how much she clenches around your cock, but you have to last until she's satisfied, until she’s screaming your name. 

But that won’t be long, because Yujin is so fucking wet, and you can see the puddle between her legs that only grows, only serves as more evidence of how good a pounding she’s getting. It’s as loud as it is messy, but it leaves Yujin with a craving for more, leaving her frantically rubbing her clit, and the clench around your cock gets so fucking tight you almost explode. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, make me cum, daddy, make me cum on your thick fucking cock. Fuck, then you can cum and then I can taste—“ 

“Oh, good morning.” Wonyoung nonchalantly walks past the action happening, like you’re not in the middle of plowing her older roommate, and opens up the fridge. To be fair, you’ve become so accustomed to her interrupting the two of you, it does little to distract you at this point. 

“Don’t mind me, just grabbing something to eat before class,” Wonyoung says, grabbing some yogurt and fresh berries from the fridge shelf, then uses her hip to close it shut. She takes a seat on the other side of the counter so casually, watching you pound Yujin, while taking her time to peel back the foil lid, then starts to slowly dip her spoon into the yogurt, mixing in the berries at the same time. 

Her eyes are fixated on the action, but she’s eating a healthy breakfast with such a vacant expression on her face, like this isn't the slightest bit strange. Wonyoung chews slowly, taking occasional glances in your direction while you’re ramming your cock into Yujin who doesn’t seem bothered in the least, not even when you start spanking her ass, just to make those plentiful cheeks jiggle, so she can moan louder and tighten up around your shaft. 

“We’re out of blueberries,” Wonyoung says, as her lips pout, like you’re not railing her best friend in front of her, slapping Yujin’s ass hard, that it’s enough to make her squeal when the flesh ripples—and she does it again so fucking loud when you give her another rough spank, one deafening strike after the other that has your full concentration on the hypnotizing waves her ass cheeks make. 

You’re absolutely destroying Yujin’s cunt, finding new angles to piston into her that have her letting out guttural cries of pleasure, and her tender asscheeks have the most beautiful hand prints on them, a pleasant shade of red that keeps deepening. Yujin gets impossibly tight whenever you spank her, making the most pathetic little whimpers while you deliver those stinging slaps to her ass, but Wonyoung makes little if any acknowledgment, uninterested in anything but her yogurt, eating it in relative silence.

It’s impressive how Wonyoung can maintain such a straight face, despite how loud you’re making Yujin scream, filling that cunt so perfectly, and it gets where you’ll try anything to get her attention—so you go harder on Yujin, ramming your shaft into that tight pussy so rough, that she can barely hang on to the kitchen counter. You’re doing whatever possible to elicit a reaction out of the younger girl, fucking the air right out of Yujin, that it becomes a challenge not to burst when your hips keep slapping against her reddened ass, because her pussy feels so fucking unreal—

Wonyoung has all but turned to stone, and while her eyes might dart from you to Yujin, it's impossible to tell if she's judging, aroused, or just enjoying the show. That stoic expression hasn’t changed one bit. 

“Daddy, need you to give it to me, ruin my fucking pussy. Your cock feels so fucking good inside me, but you’re not pounding me hard enough,” Yujin says, which you find impossible to believe, but then again, you’re pretty sure that she’s getting off on her younger best friend watching her get dicked down. 

So as Wonyoung just keeps eating her yogurt through it all, licking her spoon clean after every bite, paying no mind to how raw and vulgar the sounds of flesh smacking against flesh get, as you put every little ounce of strength you have left. Yujin is bent over so obscenely, taking all your cock without issue, and pushes back to meet each and every thrust that gets buried deep inside her. 

There’s so much sweat dripping down your bodies, and you’ve given up on trying to break that poker face on Wonyoung, leaving you with nothing left to distract you. Yujin can take so much without any trouble, as if she’s showing off how much her pussy enjoys being pummeled, and all she does is beg for more. You keep the hand that isn’t on her hips moving, and the more it meets the deadly curve of that round ass, the better it gets watching the recoil on those sweaty cheeks. 

Yujin's on the verge of release, and you’re not far behind, both chasing an earth-shattering orgasm that’ll have you both reeling, but as dangerously close as you are, Yujin's even closer, clenching hard on your cock, so fucking tight that you'll burst any second now.

You’re moving on auto-pilot, and when Yujin turns her head back to meet you halfway with her lips, your mouth crashes against her own, then you’re planting hungry kisses down her neck. There’s not a part on Yujin’s body that doesn’t taste good, and you kiss as many places as you have access to, from those beautiful shoulders, to that bare back covered in sweat, doing everything you can to prevent the inevitable. 

All it takes is one solitary thrust that hits just right until Yujin’s legs begin to tremble, and when you do it again, she almost collapses on the spot. One more time, and she’s cumming on your cock without any warning, gushing on the kitchen floor, and it takes everything you’ve got to keep yourself buried. She’s squealing, gasping as you fuck her through the violent orgasm that rips through her body, and the only thing you can think about is how fucking desperate you are for relief while you hold her hips, helping her ride through the intensity of her high that shows no signs of yielding. 

The kitchen (and Yujin) is going to be such a mess after this. 

Yujin keeps convulsing on your cock, taking you closer to that edge, while you drill her as fast and hard as your hips will allow, driving her to a second greedy climax that you’re a fraction of a second from blowing your load inside her. Yujin’s so fucking wet, so unbearably tight that you’ll have to make a conscious effort to hold on, because you can't last much longer, not with how euphoric it feels to be buried in her cunt.

“D-daddy, daddy, are you close?” Yujin asks, out of breath, and it’s the easiest question in the world to answer. All you can do is nod at this point during the next lust-filled kiss, and it takes all of your remaining strength to pull out from her heat at the right time. 

Yujin drops to her knees to finish you off, tasting herself on your needy cock, and it won’t take long at all until you’re filling up that pretty mouth. 

While this is all happening, Wonyoung licks her spoon clean one last time, still sitting on the opposite end of the island, and gets up out of her chair without a passing glance, tossing her empty yogurt cup away. She leaves without any parting words, without the slightest bit of recognition that Yujin now has your cock jammed down her throat as she grabs your hips, bobbing her head at an impossible to deal with pace. 

You’re on board a rocket that’s already been lit, about to explode at any moment, because the back of Yujin’s wet throat feels like heaven, and the way she looks up, waiting for you to cum is more maddening than you know how to handle. Her nails dig deeper into your hips, and you’re spiraling out of control while those sexy lips of hers stay perfectly sealed around your cock, tongue tracing the underside of your cock. Yujin isn’t going to stop until she has you cumming down her throat.

That gorgeous face is so eager, so happy to swallow all the cum out of your cock, and her eyes show how badly she wants it as her hands leave your hips, finding your wrists before she guides them up the back of her head. 

“Yujin—fuck, you’re gonna make me cum, you’re gonna make me fucking cum,” you groan out, and you’ve never seen those sparkling eyes widen so much. You know Yujin can’t wait, nor can you, not with how sloppy her mouth is, how deep she’s taking you into her mouth, and she’s sucking you off so well you can hardly think straight, every messy slurp making your head spin. 

Yujin doesn’t even gag when you instinctively start fucking her mouth, getting a strong grip on her head, and you’re not even sure how she can even breathe with your cock crammed so far down her throat—not that she cares, because she just keeps staring up at you, keeps showing you how much she wants you to cum in her mouth, like she needs it to survive. 

It’s fucking filthy, wet, and you can’t even settle into a rhythm before your cock throbs, your lips groaning Yujin’s name in a chant as the only warning she’ll get before you press her face down into her crotch, holding her there until your hot seed shoots down her throat. 

Your legs threaten to give out when you unload down Yujin’s waiting throat, but she takes everything you have to offer. It’s not the least bit difficult for her to swallow it all, smiling with her eyes as you’re pumping all the thick, gooey cum into her stomach, and she makes sure none of it goes to waste, throat milking it all out. 

Yujin fucking loves the taste, the thickness that fills her mouth, the texture that she can’t get enough of, swallowing every last drop like it’s the best damn breakfast she’s ever had. And when there’s nothing left in your balls to empty, Yujin keeps her mouth on your shaft, keeps that powerful suction going, even when you can’t take anymore. 

“Yujin, please,” you can barely get out, and you’re not proud of begging, but fighting against the aftershocks and overstimulation is an uphill battle that makes you nearly pass out against the kitchen counter. But fortune favors you, since there’s pity written on Yujin’s features, so she lets you slip out of her mouth, licking your sensitive cockhead clean before doing the same to her lips. 

“Thanks for the delicious protein, daddy. It really makes the best breakfast.” 

With whatever strength left, you hold on for dear life against the kitchen island, and Yujin just stares at you in your post-orgasm daze, licking her lips like she’s ready to go again. Because you know she is. 

“Daddy—“ It’s just one word, but she says it with affection in her voice as she saunters over to you and caresses your cheek. Both of you are covered in sweat, but you really took the brunt of it, given that you’re still gasping for air, still recovering from such a mind-blowing, toe-curling orgasm Yujin just helped you reach. “I think we should skip the rest of our classes today. Don’t you?” 

She has a point. You’ll only have a couple of classes left in your day even if you went, and you’re not particularly compelled to spend hours listening to some old guy drone on about histories of countries you’ll probably never even visit in your lifetime. You also know with your schedule clear that Yujin’s liable to jump your bones the entire day, and you’re already exhausted as is. 

But really—when has Yujin wearing you out ever been a bad thing? 

✦ ✦ 

To nobody’s surprise, Yujin is insatiable. 

On the kitchen floor still lies a heap of clothes, but there’s no point in putting them back on, since they won’t be staying on. Now that your schedule’s been freed, Yujin has the rest of the day planned out—and it involves you, her, and whatever surface that’ll hold her weight. 

Wonyoung’s classes won’t be over for several hours, so there won’t be any more interruptions, which gives the perfect opportunity to jump in the shower and share the hot water together. In reality, it’s the only reprieve you’re getting, and that’ll only last until the water warms up—getting clean is only an afterthought. 

Once the water starts streaming down your bodies, it relaxes all your tired muscles, and Yujin helps soap up your body, which is really just an excuse to get her hands on you again. And her hands feel amazing when they massage all the sore spots on your body underneath the running water (which is always as hot as possible when Yujin’s involved). 

You’ve never felt so relaxed, so calm when Yujin helps shampoo your hair, working her fingers deep in your scalp. Something in your gut tells you that feeling is only going to last until it all gets washed out, even as Yujin smiles innocently when she helps rinse out your hair. 

When the last of the shampoo falls down into the drain, it takes all the purity of the shower with it. 

Yujin begins soaping up your body, running her hands along every part of your chest and stomach, and it doesn’t take long before she gets a little too handsy. Little by little, her hands travel down your hips, and you know where they’re going to detour, that there was zero chance you’d actually use the shower for its designated purpose.

It doesn’t matter though, when Yujin looks so ethereal surrounded by running water, with her wet hair stuck to her face, accompanied by the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen. You’re definitely staring, which no one could blame you for when the only thing better than Yujin’s naked body—is Yujin’s naked body all wet and soapy. 

Distraction comes easily when you’re busy getting lost in all the curves of that immaculate figure, and you’re only interrupted when Yujin uses your hips to spin you around, facing you away from her as the hot water starts to pelt your chest. The only thing more soothing than the running water is the way her arms wrap around your waist, how the weight of her perky breasts press into your back. Yujin’s soft lips latch onto your neck, peppering it with kisses, and her hands inch lower down your torso, with no mistaking where they’re heading. 

“Daddy,” Yujin whispers, wrapping those eager fingers around your length, and it only takes a few pumps before she brings your erection back to life. “Gonna keep milking you, gonna keep draining those heavy loads out of your balls over and over until they’re sore, until you can barely walk.” 

You have little of a response to offer, only groans that tell Yujin all she needs to hear when the grip on your shaft tightens. The hot breath on your neck only serves to leave you more speechless, and the way she’s jerking you off nice and slow only makes it worse, especially with how you’re still sensitive, but you’re not about to admit that—she’ll know regardless. 

Yujin’s words hold so much weight to them, because you know how relentless she can be, how easy it is to gain control over your body. You know her words are a promise, a guarantee that she’ll do whatever she likes, and she lets out a little giggle when your shaft twitches in her hand. “You’re gonna cum all day for me, right? As many times as I want. All over me, all inside me, everywhere. Your cum belongs to me, daddy.” 

It gets harder to speak the more Yujin reveals her intentions, the more those fingers squeeze the tip of your cock just right, making you let out a desperate moan. She keeps nibbling on your neck, pumping your length at an agonizing pace, just so your shaft doesn't get the kind of attention you need, just enough to keep you hard for her.

“Just thinking about all the ways I can make daddy cum makes me so fucking wet. You’re gonna breed me so many times today, gonna pump all your loads inside me.“

When Yujin finishes her sentence, she licks over your earlobe, blowing hot air into it as the path her fingers take speeds up, gets just a little tighter. It’s the littlest bit of pleasure, but it draws out your moans, and without even noticing, your hips are bucking on their own, fucking her fist to bring yourself to another release. 

“You need to cum again, don’t you?” Yujin asks, but her question comes with more intense jerks of her hand, giving you the pace you desperately need, which makes you twitch between her fingers harder than before. “Then you have to let me do it, daddy.” 

Yujin stalls your hips, holding them in place long enough so you’ll get the message. All you want to do is move, thrust your shaft in between Yujin’s delicate little hand, but it’s clear she’s not going to allow that, so you hold back anything that voices your frustration. She nips at your ear, and her soapy hand slides along your shaft with ease, twisting the right way, and given the attention you’ve been craving, 

It's embarrassing how close you already are, especially after such a rough, sweaty session on the kitchen counter. “Daddy likes when I take my time, don’t you? When I get you all worked up, because it’ll feel better when I make you cum…” 

You’re not going to admit anything, regardless if she’s right or not. Which she is, but you’re fucking greedy right now, and all you want is to fuck Yujin against the shower glass, until you fuck another load inside her. You can’t even see her face right now, but you know what smug expression is on her face when she strokes your cock just the way you like it, bringing you closer and closer, and you can feel the hardness of her nipples as her wet tits stay squished against your back. 

Maybe it’s for the best that you can’t see her, since you know she'd have that familiar shit-eating grin plastered on her face, knowing how fucking close you are to unloading in her hands, because nobody but her can get you off quite like she can.

“Yujin, please,” you moan, a regrettable use of words, because you don’t need her knowing just how desperate you are to cum, but it’s too late when she chuckles into your ear. 

She’s maniacal in her ways, releasing the grip on your cock, just to laugh as it throbs in the air—then she’s teasing that sweet spot with the pad of her finger, applying the least amount of pressure when she traces your shaft from base to tip, prolonging every bit of pleasure you’ll beg for. 

You’re a fucking wreck already, and Yujin just keeps building and building your orgasm, making you chase it. It only becomes more of a challenge not to move your hips when she gives ample amounts of pleasure, just to steal it away at the last possible second, until you’re letting out more whimpers of desperation. 

There’s no comfort in being under the hot water anymore while Yujin keeps you riding that edge, keeps you right where she wants you. “Please, please,Yujin—“

Your pleas go unanswered while her free hand rakes against your wet abdomen, giving an extra dose of stimulation that only makes it all worse, and she never maintains the same speed of those tormenting strokes for long. Yujin knows how to torture your cock better than you give her credit for.

“Maybe I should make daddy wait until we’re out of the shower?” You’d rather perish at such a suggestion. 

You’re at her whims, powerless, vulnerable as could be, when she uses her thumb to rub lazy circles around your cockhead, and embarrassingly helpless, waiting for the moment when she has mercy on you, when she’ll let you blow a load like you never have before. 

What makes matters worse is Yujin knowing how close you are to the edge, that if she squeezes your cockhead just right, you’ll shoot an absolute mess between her fingers and all over the tiles. You could be selfish, take matters into your own hands—quite literally. It’s not like Yujin hasn’t given you permission to cum, and she doesn’t punish you for anything—but there’s no satisfaction in taking the easy way out. 

So you’re left with the only other option—keeping your composure. A task made nearly impossible when Yujin keeps changing the pressure, only allowing as many strokes as it takes to reach that dangling edge once more. All you can do is wait for it to all build back up again, then hang on tight, which isn’t easy when Yujin keeps teasing the other parts of your body: playing with your nipples, giving your balls a gentle squeeze, doing everything but letting you reach the nirvana you’d give anything to reach. 

“Yujin—“ You don’t even care how needy you sound, or how frail your voice comes out as, you’re not above getting on your hands and knees to beg at this point. Even when it seems like you've been edged for days, Yujin knows how well you can endure it. 

“Don’t you worry, daddy. I said I was gonna milk your cock, so that’s what I’m gonna do,” Yujin purrs, as fingers rub the sensitive tip of your cock. It's too much pressure, and it takes everything to hold back from spilling, even when you're so fucking close. Yujin squeezes your heavy balls once more, then again, like she’s gauging how much you’ll blow when you’re finally permitted to finish, and you’re a hair's breadth from releasing it all. 

There’s a wet kiss planted on the back of your neck as Yujin applies a firm grip at the base of your shaft, and those magical fingers move at a pace that you’ve been dying for as they twist around your cock. Yujin rubs her thumb around your sensitive slit, and begins to pump with such ferocity that your breathing gets heavy and weak, fueling the anticipation more and more, until you’re almost there—

You just pray that Yujin lets you finish this time. 

She gives every bit of stimulation you can take, cycling through sucking on your neck, blowing puffs of hot air into your ear, and whispering the absolute dirtiest things she can imagine, words that could make you cum on their own. And the knot in your stomach just keeps snowballing. 

“Give me your cum, daddy. Give me that big fucking load, I need it, I need to milk it right out of you,” Yujin commands, with a death grip on your shaft, jerking you off so fast as that pressure just keeps boiling until you’re at a breaking point. Everything blurs together, and it’s impossible to do anything but let the inevitable happen, because regardless if Yujin lets you or not—you’re going to fucking cum. 

One light stroke is all it takes to reach the point of no return, and Yujin wraps her free arm around your waist in order to keep you upright while your climax hits like a truck. Your load shoots out like a geyser, coating Yujin’s fingers as you spray it all over the tiles, moaning uncontrollably. As you let out all that bottled up bliss, your whole body spasms out of control, but Yujin keeps you steady, keeps pumping all of your seed out, the sheer force of it making her giggle. 

It doesn’t feel like the spurts ever get weaker, even as Yujin keeps squeezing the tip of your cock, prolonging your euphoric high for as long as she can. The relief only gets better with every heavy pulse of your shaft, and it feels like it’s never going to end—you just cum, and cum, and cum, while Yujin whispers words of praise into your ears, milking that massive load out of you as promised. Every little drop gets ejected from your pulsating shaft, until your balls are depleted, absolutely drained, and there’s nothing left to spill. 

By the time it all subsides, every muscle in your body still trembles, and even after you’ve been milked dry, your cock still throbs for Yujin. The aftershocks fire off like the Fourth of July, and it’s a losing battle trying not to collapse, but Yujin ensures you remain on your feet. 

Yujin turns you around to face her, and there’s a dangerous grin on her face—something you should be worried about, because only she knows what else you’re in store for. Without even noticing, the water gets turned off, and Yujin helps you out of the shower, draping a towel over your shoulder to aid in your recovery. Little by little, you regain your senses until you feel like a functional human again. 

There’s not a mirror left that hasn’t been completely fogged over, but the cool air feels so refreshing on your hot skin after being in there for ages. Yujin can’t stop smiling as she takes care of you, drying off your body and ruffling your hair, because she knows you’re going to feel that high for days. 

Once you're all toweled off, squeaky clean, and refreshed, it all comes full circle when Yujin drags you back to her bedroom, one of the biggest places in the apartment. Her bed is spacious enough to accommodate a small army, but it’s just you, her, and that killer smile, with all the room for whatever Yujin has in mind. 

Again, clothes seem like such a frivolous waste of energy, and neither of you can even be bothered with those fancy silk bathrobes Yujin looks so good in. Besides, there’s this inescapable feeling you’re going to need all the energy you can spare. 

Your suspicions get proven once your back hits the mattress, when Yujin’s lips place chaste kisses down your shoulders and chest before resting her head on you. It’s the rare occasion where you have time to relax, even being aware there’s some devilish intentions stored up, but you’re able to just enjoy the moment with Yujin nuzzled against you, but god—her skin feels so impossibly soft, and she smells so good, even though its just shampoo, body spray, and her natural scent. 

“Did you have fun yesterday?” Yujin asks out of the blue, and you don’t have the faintest idea what she’s referring to, but with her, you’ll have to prepare for anything. While you’re waiting for her to explain, her fingers run through your hair, scratching the back of your scalp, which relaxes you enough to fall asleep in an instant as your heavy eyelids shut tight. 

“Did you have fun plowing our Wonyoungie yesterday?“ Yujin repeats, with a bit of clarification that leaves a disastrous blush on your face when your eyes spring open. “I went out for a swim while you two were…busy and I could still hear her from the pool.”

It all feels like a lifetime ago that you railed Wonyoung across the entire apartment, but in reality, less than twenty-four hours passed. The image stays fresh in your mind, how you can still feel how Wonyoung clung to your body as you ravaged her down the hallway, and made her cum on your fingers, then again on your tongue, and then even more times on your cock than you could count. You can still hear the whimpers in your ears when you folded Wonyoung in half, and it wouldn’t matter where Yujin was—there wasn’t a quiet spot in the entire apartment. 

“Sorry, we should have been more—” 

Yujin interrupts you with a kiss before your defenses get too worked up. “There’s no need to be sorry. Hearing you pound that little brat senseless really got me going. Do you know how jealous hearing her scream daddy over and over made me? I just wanted to lie out and enjoy the sun, but I couldn’t stop touching myself, hearing the way you fucked her brains out.

There’s no bigger smile than the one on her face right now. 

Jealousy wasn’t a trait you expected from Yujin, but it’s not surprising given how possessive she can get. That image alone, there's something so arousing about it—even more when you know Yujin loves swimming in the nude, and her getting off by the pool as she hears every single scream from Wonyoung, it sends blood flowing to all the right places. Yujin can discern how you’re processing the information, how it gets the gears in your head turning and all your fantasies brought to the surface. 

“I don’t usually get myself off when I have you and Wonyoung to do that, but the way you just kept pounding her and pounding her—“ 

Yujin’s eyes can’t stop growing when she relives the events from yesterday, and it’s clear this is only going to end one way. “I hope you came in her, daddy. I hope you pumped all your cum in that little slut.” 

“You think there’s any way I wouldn’t?” You’re almost annoyed that she would dare ask such a thing, like Wonyoung’s tight little body isn’t tailor made for breeding. Regardless, Yujin can only beam from ear to ear, because it’s the answer she wants to hear, even though it would take a herculean effort to not finish inside your mutual younger roommate. 

"Wonyoung has such a nice body, doesn’t she? Her perky little tits, tiny waist, and that face? Oh, isn’t it so gorgeous? She’s like a model. Doesn’t it just make you want to blast a nice, thick load all over it? She would look so pretty covered in your cum, daddy.” Yujin looks absolutely feral when she talks like that, and she’s pushing all the right buttons to provoke a reaction out of you, one that you’re hopeless to defend against. 

“You know what’ll be even better?” she asks, adding a pause that’s just there to torture you. “When I watch your cock wreck her cunt, being right there when you breed that little cumslut. I can’t wait to see how she takes your huge cock, how that bratty face looks when you’re filling up that pretty little pussy.”

It’s hard to not let your arousal get carried away when Yujin keeps putting ideas in your head, but you have no barriers left to build. She gets you riled up so easily, with just a few simple words to plant the seeds, and your imagination will grow the rest.

“But you know I can’t just watch, right?” Yujin adds, as her voice develops into a low murmur against your ear. ”Next time—we both get to play with her.” 

You can see it so vividly, the image of sharing Wonyoung as she gets stretched out on your cock, using her petite body, dominating her in unison, defiling her in every position imaginable—it really gets the blood between your legs pumping. All of it serves as just a sample to whatever Yujin has planned, and she unravels the next step by grabbing the back of your hand, pressing it in between her thighs so you can feel the wetness pooling out of her cunt. 

There’s that hungry look again in Yujin’s eyes when she grinds on your fingers long enough to coat them in her inexhaustible slickness. Your respite has all the life span you expected—she won’t be satisfied with just getting your fingers messy, there’s a much more grandiose plan awaiting.

Yujin releases your wrist, but that warm, wet mess clings to your fingertips, dripping down your hand, like it wasn’t obvious she’s raring to start the second act. You get a moment to see how her arousal glistens on your fingers before she brings them up to her mouth, tasting her own sweetness, and sucks it right off without breaking eye contact. 

Everything about it looks so erotic, the way Yujin sucks so greedily on your digits and uses the same energy when she goes down on you, cleaning up every single spot of the mess she created. Yujin hums against your fingers, and sucks with such fervor, like the juices she’s licking clean are the most delicious thing she could have in her mouth. It’s hard to decipher the expression on Yujin’s face, whether she looks so ravenous because she’s tasting herself, or if she just loves having your fingers in her mouth. 

It doesn't really matter in the end, because it’s all done to grab your attention. You’re just trying to keep that lingering arousal in check, not let it get too carried away—but you can’t say the same for Yujin, who’s gotten so messy with how she’s salivating on your fingers, long past cleaning the taste off them. This is all for her own enjoyment. 

“Daddy…” Her voice starts out muffled with how her lips stay attached around your fingers. “Oh, daddy…” Yujin drags out her syllables when she shifts position into a full straddle, resting her weight on your lap as she keeps sliding your wet fingers past her lips. It’s the right kind of messy that has saliva dripping down her chin, and you know there’s no way Yujin can’t feel your cock stiffening up again once she releases your fingers with a sensual pop, letting them travel up her toned abdomen, right up to the valley between her naked breasts.

“I know you love getting your tongue in my cunt,” she says, using your saliva coated digits to squeeze one of her sensitive breasts, then teases her stiff nipple in lazy circles, poorly stifling out a little gasp. “So this time, I’ll make it easier for you.” 

This is the part where all of your muscles tense up waiting for Yujin to pounce. It’s an overwhelming anticipation when she brings your index finger back into her mouth, using the tip of her tongue to roll around it before taking it down to the knuckle without even gagging, and makes such a lewd display of it, using you to satisfy her oral fixation. 

“Just lay there, daddy. Stay right there so I can ride your cute face.” 

The words come out so casually when Yujin pops out your finger, and there’s no answer you could give besides an obedient nod. She knows this, of course, not that it matters what random assortment of words get strung together; the answer will always be the same, but even under that thousand-mile long smile, there’s something more sinister waiting. 

It’s a look that sends your heart racing, the suspense deepening when Yujin makes the slow crawl up your body, and ends with a devastating kiss before grabbing the headboard to pull herself up. No other vantage point offers a more appetizing view of that tantalizing pink flesh, and there are no barriers between Yujin when she hovers right above your mouth, spreading herself open with two fingers so her arousal drips down your face. 

“Daddy—” Yujin begins to say, but it doesn’t matter how her sentence finishes, because you’re too lost in how tasty her cunt looks. You can’t imagine how it looks on her end, how starved you must look, but you can’t contain your insatiable lust for Yujin, dying for a taste. 

And then, that craving becomes reality as Yujin lowers her hips, until those heavenly thighs return to either side of your face. There isn’t even a warning—not that you need one while she presses her soaking wet folds against your face, smearing it with her nectar that trickles into your mouth. You don’t even get the chance to get your tongue on her, because she’s just spreading that wetness wherever she can, and it’s only when you try to savor that taste that she’s pulling away—

Yujin wants to make you work for it. 

All you can do is whine at first when her cunt hovers out of reach, and there’s no point in hiding the desperation written all over your face, because she senses every bit. The mischievous laughter and giggles get more and more infuriating when those dripping pussy lips graze your mouth, but she doesn’t keep up this game for long, because the temptation to let you feast becomes too strong to fight.

Once Yujin eventually puts her weight down on you, smothering your face with that soaked cunt, it's like you can finally breathe again once you’re allowed to taste her, and the need for oxygen no longer feels all that necessary. You give her wet entrance the most tentative of licks, savoring the taste that lingers on the tip of your tongue when she grinds against your mouth, which makes you groan right into her, and you just need more.

Can you breathe, daddy?” Yujin asks, not in concern, but a playful little tease when her cunt presses harder against your face. It’s a question devoid of any importance right now, but you shake your head as she keeps lowering herself on you just right, letting you bury your tongue right into the source, and she uses those sinfully soft thighs to squeeze your head like they’re never going to let go. 

Yujin moves without an ounce of haste, working at a deliberate tempo so she can savor all those sensations at once while she gets her hands all over the back of your head, keeping your tongue buried between her wet folds. She’s just loving the way you’re desperate to devour her cunt, licking as much of her as your tongue can reach, tasting all that tangy slickness when it flows right into your mouth. This is the perfect spot for you to be, getting her off while you suffocate between those thighs, drowning in her arousal that clings to your lips and keeps trickling down your face.

The real fun happens when Yujin starts to roll her hips, when she’s dominating your face, suffocating you with all her weight. Her cunt drools right on your tongue, soaking every corner of your mouth when you hit the right spots, then she begins to really use your face, tangling those slender fingers in your hair, and grinding on your mouth to further entice your appetite. “Oh fuck, right there, daddy—keep that tongue out, keep making me feel good. You love eating my pussy, don’t you?”

A rather pointless question, one that gets answered with frantic licks instead of words. There’s no greater honor than pleasuring Yujin, and she doesn’t hold back anything when she grinds those powerful hips on your face, fucking herself on your tongue until it leaves an absolute welcome mess on your lips. Yujin loves the attention, having a perfect sense of control, and your sole purpose is to work your tongue through that wet cunt, providing your mouth that she can use to her heart's content.

Yujin clutches the headboard for stability, hips moving with such force that she’s using you like a toy to fuck your face, and all you can do is keep your tongue flicking faster to keep up. She tastes so fucking good, even when you can’t gather up all her nectar into your mouth, the rest spilling out in sticky streams that flow down your chin like a delicious, seemingly endless fountain. 

And all the noises she makes, the way she groans, whines on your tongue, all that breathless panting as her body writhes in ecstasy sound so unbelievably sexy, that makes you want to lick her cunt forever. 

“Gonna—gonna cum hard, daddy,” Yujin cries out, your favorite words to hear while those hips move on their own. She gets right on that edge, keeping your head still, and she’s almost there, so close, that you can literally taste it—

“Daddy!”

Yujin tenses up when that climax hits, her cunt gushing all over your face. It’s all flooding your tongue, lips, and everything in between as she squeezes her thighs like a vice around your head, just riding those endless waves of bliss that you hope never end.

You’re rather disappointed when she slows her hips, even if it lets you savor the shower of arousal that’s blessed your face. The biggest surprise is how it’s rather calm—because you know firsthand that Yujin can climax like a hurricane. When it all passes and she gets her breathing back under control, you’re a bit too eager during the aftermath, cleaning up wherever you can, while she’s still dealing with the aftershocks, with only enough energy to play with your hair. 

Once Yujin catches her breath, she lets out those adorable giggles again while she stays right there on top of you, and takes her sweet time getting off your face, getting a good look at the absolute mess she’s made of you. “Look at daddy all covered in me…” 

Yujin is barely even panting, which isn’t that unexpected given how relentless her stamina is, and you’re more in need of recovery than she is. Still, it doesn’t stop her from leaning in to take a kiss before she licks the side of your face, tasting herself all over you. 

The words come out muffled when Yujin says, ”Daddy, you taste so good.” She finishes cleaning off her mess until all she leaves are those affectionate kisses alongside your jaw, because she’s never really done with you. 

“That’s all my Yujin—“ you stop yourself mid-sentence, realizing the words that just left your lips, nearly choking on them. It’s the sort of thing that just slips out in the heat of the moment, when your mind is too fogged over and consumed with Yujin’s lingering taste. You can tell you've made a mistake when her eyes widen, but there’s no backtracking now—not when you’re this flustered. 

Before Yujin can say anything else, you seal her lips with a kiss, one that’s supposed to end in an instant—but she locks in that embrace, keeping your lips captive into something much more prolonged. You know it’s fruitless to disguise your vulnerability when there’s nothing that can wipe that stupid, smug grin off of her face, and after what feels like forever, you’re both just staring for what feels like forever, until Yujin breaks the silence with the most endearing little laugh.

“What was that, daddy?” she questions, and there's an innocent blush on her face when she surrounds in that intense eye contact, but there’s no chance that’s going to have you repeating what just slipped out.

“Nothing,” you mumble, as if Yujin would be satisfied with that response. You know there isn’t anything that will get you out of this, but it won't stop you from trying, looking off to the side to avoid the intense eyes staring a hole through you. Yujin’s a woman with impenetrable defenses, and she’s not going to be distracted easily, holding your face between her palms to prevent your gaze from averting. 

“Daddy…”

Yujin pouts with that cute puppy face that isn’t remotely fair, and it doesn’t help that she’s cutely rubbing your cheeks with her thumbs, trying to coax an answer out of you. The power in her gaze never falters, and when she realizes you have no plans to cave, she leans into the crook of your neck, grazing those warm, full lips right on your neck to get those juices flowing again.

“Yujin—'' You want to at least attempt a show of protest, but she’ll know it isn't even half-hearted when her hand cups the back of your head, as she fully latches her mouth onto your neck. It's that special little area that always makes you melt, and you're just lost in her touch, how that warm, wet tongue traces just the right spots, and then she grabs something hidden underneath a pillow—

You only get a moment to glance at a set of light pink, fur-covered handcuffs before Yujin restrains your wrists to the headboard above, leaving you helpless with no choice but to indulge in her desires. There’s an expression on her face that’s all so familiar, but there isn’t enough time to think when Yujin kisses down your body, licks a nipple while flicking the other with her thumb, then travels down your abdomen, sucking marks wherever she can on your skin. 

“Our little Wonyoung got to have you inside her all day yesterday, didn’t she?” she asks, that jealous, possessive tone laced in every single syllable, but the question isn’t really intended to get a response. “How many times did you cum inside her? Three? Four?” I can only imagine how pretty her pussy looks when it’s dripping your hot load…” 

There’s not another word from Yujin’s lips while she keeps marking your body with her mouth, as she works down to your thighs, spreading them apart before kissing every single spot she can get her lips on—and you’re already getting so hard with just a handful of kisses alone. 

The worst part is you can’t even touch her, which makes you tug your frustrations out against the metal around your wrist that prevents you from doing so. It’s already so much to deal with, because Yujin can be the biggest tease, the cutest brat, and the sexiest little demon, all at once—you know you’re in for a long ride. 

“But now, daddy,“ she starts, and there’s a different tone to it when it rolls off her tongue. “I get to keep you all to myself. I get to have your amazing cock filling me, pumping my pussy full of that thick cum.” 

Those words are enough to drive you insane. 

You can feel the hot breath on your thighs that’s she’s kept open, but she hasn’t touched your cock that’s throbbing inches away from her face, only kissing everywhere but where you need, a directionless assortment of pecks that’s only meant to torment.

“You look so good in handcuffs. And now, you’re—all—mine.” 

The kisses on your thighs stop just as fast as they start, and then she caresses them, keeping that blood flowing into your loins. Her nails scratch against your skin for some extra stimulation, not enough to cause pain, but to draw your attention from what’s next. “I need you to cum again.” 

Every single word Yujin says drips out lust like honey. 

The mere sound of her voice puts you on edge, and Yujin sounds so breathless when she squeezes your balls, rolls them between her fingers as your cock twitches for her. If that wasn’t enough, she dips her head down, making nothing but the most shallow licks through your sack, which is more than enough torture—because you can’t even lay a fingertip on her beautiful skin, can’t run your fingers through her hair, you’re so powerless to do anything but squirm and fight against your restraints. 

“Your balls feel so nice and heavy, and your cock—“ Yujin pauses as she grabs your shaft by the base and squeezes. “This beautiful fucking cock just belongs inside me. It deserves to fill me up, god—I just need you to breed me again and again, daddy…” 

You’re hesitant to say anything that can give off a reaction, since Yujin’s gotten you so riled up that any little thing will set you off, so you remain silent, just letting out a sigh that she manages to still hear. It’s all she needs. 

“You need me on your cock, don’t you, daddy? Because I need that thick cock pumping those hot loads, filling my cunt deep.” 

It’s a rather redundant question, but that doesn’t stop Yujin from slowly running her hand up your shaft, giving a squeeze at just the right places. She moves nice and slow, feeling your entire length as it throbs under her touch, then takes her thumb to stroke that sensitive part just underneath the head, making the tiniest circles to make you jerk against your restraints.

“Please, Yujin,” you gasp out, long past the point of desperation. She just keeps massaging the swollen tip of your cock, spreading precum everywhere, and you’re fucking leaking like a faucet, but all you want is for her to ride you, to take you so deep until you’re on the verge of exploding—

But you know there isn’t going to be any mercy when she keeps up those little, teasing touches all over your sensitive head, then wraps those fingers around your shaft again, giving it a light stroke, another squeeze, and she just holds it. 

“I love seeing you this hard,” Yujin says, stroking down to your balls, giving them a gentle fondle to draw out some more of your frustration, then returns back up to your tip, getting all that precum that oozes out all over her fingers, using it to coat them while she licks it off. 

All this teasing is not only doing a number on you, but Yujin, who cuts her plans to indulge herself short. Her hand speeds up the strokes, pumping up and down your entire shaft, giving your head the most generous amount of attention, and then she lets it all go—lets it smack against your abdomen. 

“Gonna ride the fuck out of you, daddy,” she growls, and it sounds like both a promise and a threat, but you’re just happy she’s moved past torturing your cock, watching with bated breath as Yujin aligns herself with your length, grabbing it at the base to position it right against her slit. You can already feel the heat emanating from her dripping folds that kiss your aching cockhead, as she positions herself into a squat, spreading those legs wide, and it’s all so close in reach—that you’re just begging for her to drop those hips. 

Then Yujin raises herself just enough to place your tip against her entrance—and there isn't any warning or moment to get prepared before you sink into her warmth, all at once, just until her ass rests on your lap, until every single inch is swallowed up by those velvety walls. 

"Oh my god," Yujin groans, and rolls those hips in your lap, savoring that fullness inside her pussy before she even thinks about lifting herself back up. It’s slow and methodical, the first agonizing movement she makes—a long, slow rise of her hips that gets held a little too long before she makes her descent, impaling herself on your shaft, making herself all perfectly stretched out. 

Yujin starts riding with all the power in those shapely thighs, fucking herself onto your cock, and you can feel that silky grip take over, the one that squeezes so fucking tight that you hope it never lets you go. It’s the best reward Yujin can give you. You’ve earned it you think, for enduring everything Yujin has thrown at you, and with each stroke of her hips, you feel those wet lips of her slit tightening up, glazing your cock in all her juices when she raises up again, just to slam down hard, burying you in that intense heat. 

It all repeats over and over, while the frustration never ends, only being able to watch it unfold, and it’s like she’s taunting you with the use of her hands, playing with your chest, digging her nails against your chest, teasing your nipples before her hands just run all over you. 

“Yujin—“ you moan, the first thing that leaves your mouth in quite some time, and it sounds so unbecoming, so pathetic, because you're so, so desperate to get your hands all over those sexy curves, get your tongue all over her beautiful skin. Those hips keep the momentum rolling as they crash against you, the sound of her supple asscheeks making a resounding smack whenever they collide against you, and Yujin rides you just like you’ve yearned for, in a state of peak euphoria, like you're all hers to use for as long as she wants, for as long as she needs.

Being forced into this passive role, it has you more pent up than you can stand, only able to watch your cock get swallowed up to the hilt, without the ability to touch a single inch of that toned body, and Yujin knows it. She’s executing this devious plan of hers to perfection, because she sees the annoyance in your eyes, that you’d give anything to squeeze that perfect ass, lift her up and make her take more of you, but you can’t—and she fucking loves that more than anything. 

“Daddy, you like this, right? You like watching me fuck you? Watching me stretch myself on your thick, throbbing cock, fuck—you’re going to make such a huge fucking mess inside me.” 

Yujin moves those hips with such ferocity that it gets your breathing all heavy and uneven, becoming a struggle to keep up with that dizzying pace that gets your moans going, getting every last inch deep in her pussy. Her nails dig into your chest like she wants to etch her name there, as she squeezes that perfect little cunt around you, taking you balls deep like it isn’t even a challenge, and nothing gets in her way of doing so. 

She fucks herself like there’s something to prove, like you didn’t already know how good Yujin is at riding cock, and then shows off just how wild those hips can really get, starts to fuck you harder than you can comprehend, taking it all to a new level as that body keeps up a brutal pace. 

There’s nothing for you to do other than lie there helplessly, but what’s there to complain about when you have the best view of how your cock disappears into Yujin’s suffocating heat? You can feel every orgasmic sensation, those juicy lips that grip so fucking well, and they might never let you go. 

“God, Yujin—“ you breathe out, and you can’t even finish a sentence at this rate. Yujin is fucking your cock so fast that the slap of her ass against your crotch becomes hypnotic, the obscene sounds of her dripping cunt being impaled mercilessly get so fucking loud that it almost drowns out any noises Yujin makes. 

It’s fucking beautiful to watch how hard those hips can bounce, and Yujin isn’t showing any signs of slowing down, quite the opposite—she’s just taking advantage of your body, riding your cock like she fucking owns it, taking that girth as deep it’ll go. Not a single fucking inch of it gets neglected through those suffocating slippery depths, as she uses you like her own personal toy, and you’ve never been more proud to be treated as such. 

Yujin’s so intent on making you hers, leaving scratch marks on your skin as a display, like she wants to really drive home who owns you, and when she takes every inch you have to offer, there’s absolutely no breathing room—and you wouldn’t dream of any. Those careless motions keep herself stretched out, so you can see how much your cock disappears into her pussy, how wildly her breasts bounce with each pump of her hips, how the sweat just runs all down that beautiful body that you wish you could lick clean. 

“Daddy, your cock—feels so good, feels so fucking good when you get this deep in my cunt. I’m gonna make you fucking breed me,” Yujin says, and she’s so drunk on lust that her words are slurring, her face a mess of sweat that makes her look even more all too irresistible. 

Through the thick of it all, Yujin leans in, demanding your lips, and her kisses are so wet and sloppy that there’s hardly anything left but lust in them. She takes every chance to slip her tongue in your mouth, biting down on your bottom lip every so often just as another show of dominance—a display to make sure you know she’s still got the reins until she pulls away, resuming her focus on taking your cock like a champ. 

“I’m gonna make you cum,” she says with such conviction, nothing less than a guarantee, when she takes both your cheeks in her hands, looking deep into your eyes that show every bit of compliance.

The look she flashes nearly gets you creaming inside right then and there, and Yujin looks absolutely depraved. With each sharp drop of those hips, you jerk harder against the handcuffs that shackle you, and it’s only getting tougher to breathe. Yujin only gets tighter and tighter the rougher she gets, putting more aggression into those movements—the harder your hips collide, the faster she goes, until it’s unbearable how good it all feels. 

“Daddy’s gonna pump all that hot cum inside me until I’m all nice and filled up.” You’re already too close to comfort to respond with anything but a moan, and you have to grit your teeth just to hold on whenever that pussy tightens, whenever Yujin takes you to the hilt. 

And then she hits her climax out of nowhere with one last drop of her hips, a tsunami with no prior warning. She braces herself on your chest, but it’s not enough; she’s shaking, shuddering, legs quivering as she throws her head back, moaning your name, and it’s just so wet—

That greedy little cunt grips tight, tighter than you can bear as Yujin keeps climaxing on your cock, and the waves hit one after the next, making her shriek and scream—but you’re just tugging on your restraints hard enough to leave more marks as you try to hold back from exploding inside that warm velvety heaven. 

Yujin’s selfish for more bliss, even before her body can settle down, she’s frantically rubbing her clit to expedite another explosive climax that rips through her body with such ferocity that your cock slips out of her heat—and then she’s violently squirting all over your stomach and crotch, her juices raining down your body in a torrent. “Fuck, fuck, oh my god—“ 

All at once, that gushing between her legs splashes down everywhere, showing no plans to relent as her legs threaten to give out underneath her, and the sounds that spill out of Yujin are just as unstoppable as the mess that showers you, until her entire body is a shaking mess. The spasms rocking her don’t get any easier to manage, not unlike your cock that twitches in pathetic throbs from the loss of her heat, aching to be sheathed once again. 

There’s no pause for Yujin to rest, even if her legs can’t stop trembling, she goes straight to shoving you back inside her at the right moment, because there’s only a modicum of time to spare when she resumes the vigorous riding of your cock, picking right back up where she left off. 

“Give me all that cum, daddy, need you to blow that fucking load deep in my cunt. Come on, I know you can’t last any longer. Breed me, breed me, fucking fill my womb, daddy.” Yujin couldn’t sound any more demanding if she tried, and there’s nothing to stop the floodgates from bursting open when your balls tense up, eager to flood her insides. 

That’s the last set of words you can comprehend when she slams her hips down one last time, purging every remaining ounce of restraint from your body. 

All that’s left to do is groan in ecstasy when her slick, pulsating walls milk that load right out of your cock, pumping it inside Yujin, like her pussy has been begging for it for days. That first spurt is always so intense, and it shoots so fucking deep that your toes curl like crazy, leaving you on the brink of blacking out. There’s just so much cum that gets released into that hot little hole, and you can’t stop moaning her name on your lips, bucking so desperately in the air, while Yujin just keeps rolling those hips, extracting every single drop of that thick seed, and fuck, it feels like there’s so much more left in those balls to drain. 

Yujin can just feel your entire body trembling beneath her, how that hot cum fires into her, and she can feel how you throb, your entire shaft twitching when she milks it for everything she can, taking all those spurts that fill her to the brim, until you have nothing left to give. 

You’re so fucking drained to the point of feeling delirious—three orgasms in as many hours as you’ve been awake is a lot to endure, but there’s not a thing left in your aching balls, and Yujin knows it. Even with that endless stamina, you think she might finally let you rest when she finishes out the tuckered out gyrations that keep you buried in her sticky folds, clenching around you to earn the last remaining spurts that leave you lightheaded. 

“There's so much in me, my pussy just feels too good not to fucking fill up, right? And it feels so good to be daddy’s perfect little cum dump…” 

Her cunt doesn’t leave a drop left to spill out, but that’s not going to stop Yujin from keeping your cock nice and hard inside that warmth, while she grinds in slow, tortuous motions to let your climax ride out for as long as possible. 

When her hips finally settle and there’s nothing but exhaustion from your lips, Yujin leans forward to move the hair from your sweaty forehead, then runs her fingers through it to help you catch your breath, even as your eyes struggle to stay open.

“Your load feels so good inside me, daddy,” Yujin says, and there’s hardly any fatigue in the way she’s speaking. “It’s just so warm, my pussy feels so full. I made you cum a lot, didn’t I?” 

There's a sense of pride in her tone as her hips give one last pump on your spent cock just for good measure. All you can manage is a weak, muffled groan, but that's all Yujin needs, because the satisfaction on her face couldn’t be more obvious when she brings those perfect lips to your own, taking a long kiss that feels like there’s some finale to this all.

Heavy as they feel, you keep your eyelids from falling, just so you can take in Yujin’s beauty, from the sheen of sweat on her soft skin, to the strands of hair sticking to her forehead, and how she looks when her lips curl into this beautiful smile you’re almost certain has a hidden meaning behind, but you’re going to enjoy it anyway. 

The end of the line of this all has to be within reach, you figure, (at least you hope), so there's only one thing left for Yujin to do, and the anticipation has never been higher. With widened eyes, you intently watch as she sits up, lifting her hips off you until your cock regrettably slips free of that hot vice—then you’re left with the perfect view of that huge creamy load spilling out of her messy pussy, oozing down her sweaty thighs. 

Her slit looks so glistening, and those lower lips are such a fucking mess when your seed drips out of her, but it’s so enticing you can’t look away, not wanting to miss a second of the spectacle.

Yujin spreads her legs a little wider to show you her cum-filled pussy, how it leaks down to the sheets, and then dips her hand in between those thighs, collecting your messy load that you’ve given her, or rather that she’s taken from you onto her fingers, fucking it back into her folds before bringing them to her mouth. 

It’s all such a filthy sight that it keeps you hard and throbbing, seeing Yujin lick her fingers clean, humming in delight like it's the best meal she's had, before shoving her fingers right back in her cunt to scoop up more. She keeps giving that thick, gooey load another taste, and Yujin just looks so pleased with herself.

That same look doesn’t dare disperse when Yujin takes her time to crawl over your body, inch by inch, until it fades into something more wicked—and then she seizes your cock, jerking it off hard and fast, because she knows how fucking raw and sensitive it is. 

“Fuck, Yujin—god, oh my god, please,” you cry out, but Yujin just keeps stroking away at your overworked length, with nothing but sadistic pleasure etched all over her face. There’s hardly any bliss left in those furious strokes, it’s just pain and pleasure, competing back and forth, with the former sure to take the lead soon enough. 

“You're not all tired out are you, daddy?” she asks, with that same grin clinging to her lips as she grips harder around your shaft, squeezing a harsh fist around your tender cockhead, drawing out every ounce of overstimulation. There’s no energy left to protest, and it’s not like anything you would say would convince Yujin anyway. 

“I said I was going to keep milking your cock, so come on, daddy—don’t you have more cum for me? Don’t you wanna blow another load?” 

You open your mouth intending to plead her to stop, that your cock is too fucking sensitive, but all that comes out are sounds that don’t resemble anything even close to words, nothing but loud, embarrassing whimpers and whines that you can’t hold in. There’s little you can do but lay there as Yujin refuses to stop stroking your cock, looking you right in the eye with that cocky little smile, like she still has a point to make, ensuring every frantic pump she makes is a cocktail of agony and bliss. 

“Doesn’t this feel good, daddy? Having your cock jerked off while you stare at my naked body? You can’t be that sensitive if you’re still so fucking hard,” Yujin taunts, with a grip long past painful, and that fucking grin isn’t going anywhere. 

Those devilish fingers just keep pumping, keep torturing your cock, sliding over your shaft as Yujin squeezes with so much intensity that you’re barely cognizant of how much every stroke hurts, but she’s prepared to send you towards yet another release that your balls don’t have to offer. 

And just like that—in record time, you’re blasting whatever is left from your balls in the short time they’ve filled back up, shooting all over your stomach, glazing your abdomen in this thin, watery semen that doesn't even compare to the previous pleasure Yujin has drawn from your body. But she’s so greedy she won’t give a damn, because milking out such a pitiful, measly load like that still gives her all the satisfaction necessary.  

At the very least, Yujin cleans you up, because those pathetic clear strands that splatter across your abdomen belong to her, and she wouldn’t dare let them go to waste. Her tongue drags all the way across your stomach, dipping down to your balls, before flicking up to your cockhead, cleaning off your unbearably sensitive slit. 

Yujin spends just enough time using her tongue to play around with your cock to drive you up the wall, licking wherever she can, and then she seals those greedy lips around your swollen head, applying the harshest suction she can muster. You’re not sure what she’s doing can even be classified as pleasure anymore, and it’s all making you squirm so uncontrollably that you’re liable to break those cuffs. 

The littlest touch sets all those sensitive nerves ablaze, making you almost blow another load when her mouth slides down to your base, and Yujin just holds you there in her warm throat—one, two, three. It’s just mere seconds, but it all feels like an excruciating eternity when she comes up with a messy pop, planting a parting kiss on your oversensitive tip that’s just dying to be left alone. 

She stalls for a moment, letting the anticipation really linger—then out of nowhere, she lets go of your helpless cock as it gets that chance to rest against your stomach. 

Yujin doesn’t do anything else, but keep that fucking smug look on her face. 

And you’ve never been so relieved. 

Yujin swings her legs around your hips, playfully messing up your hair more than it has been. Beads of sweat still cling to her body, but she doesn’t even look the slightest out of breath. “Daddy—“

There’s another pause before she offers up the rest of her thoughts. 

“Oh hey, there you two are.” 

It’s Wonyoung. Because of course it is. She’s standing in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and god knows how long she’s been there. Based on her wet hair, she’s fresh out of the shower, with a white towel wrapped over her petite figure, but still somehow manages to bask in elegance. 

Wonyoung takes one look at you on the bed, in your pathetic state of recovery, but unlike before, there’s acknowledgement straight away when she then turns her attention to Yujin. “So that’s why you weren’t answering your phone…” 

Yujin looks over her shoulder and smiles at Wonyoung. “We've been a little preoccupied."

"I can see that.” Wonyoung takes a couple of steps inside the room, and looks so amused at the sight of you bound to the bed, her gaze shamelessly wandering along your naked body. “Well, since none of us have class tomorrow, I thought we should all go out for dinner. Get a couple drinks in us without having to worry about being hungover for early morning lectures.” 

The last thing you want is to venture out of this apartment, especially in this state of exhaustion, but there’s such excitement in Wonyoung’s eyes when she speaks that you couldn’t fathom turning her down. 

Yujin looks back at you, and all you can give is the weakest nod of approval. “Let me get daddy out of these handcuffs, and then we’ll get cleaned up.”

An eerie silence fills the room when the cuffs come off, and you feel like you’ve risen to the surface for air, even though your wrists are rubbed raw and sore. Yujin rectifies this by kissing them with the most tender smacks, massaging her thumbs into your reddened skin, and it feels a little strange to regain the use of them after being without them for so long. 

Now, the messy sheets underneath your bodies should probably be tossed—there’s no saving something so stained with copious amounts of sweat and other bodily fluids (yet another reminder that, god, Yujin just squirts so much), and it’s not like she doesn’t have an infinite amount of similar expensive sheets with a matching pattern in her linen closet.

“You know, daddy looks good in handcuffs…” Wonyoung says with a cheeky smile, as she edges closer towards the bed. Between the two women, they share a knowing glance, one that makes them both giggle out loud at once, leaving you a little terrified of what they’re both thinking. 

“What are we in the mood for?” Wonyoung thankfully changes the subject to focus back on food, something you’ll never pass up an opportunity to indulge in.

“There’s this new steakhouse that we should try. It’s on the other side of town, but—“

“Oh, I love steak!” Wonyoung says, interrupting the older girl, and again, there’s just so much enthusiasm in her bright voice. 

“Steak it is then.” After Yujin dismounts your body, not a single one of your muscles wants to cooperate when you try to lift yourself up. Yujin can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh as she offers assistance, though it ends up being more of a struggle to try to support your dead weight when your limbs refuse to move in tandem with your thoughts.

“You really did a number on him, huh?” Wonyoung asks when she settles beside the older girl on the edge of the mattress, making it dip with the added weight. 

“It’s nothing daddy can’t handle.” 

That sass in Yujin’s tone is all the motivation you need to lift yourself up, and then, before you know it, you’re on your feet, albeit with wobbly legs that feel like they’re made of jelly. 

It’s strange how natural it feels to be in the middle of Yujin’s bedroom, fully naked, while your two pretty roommates sit and stare at your nude form like a piece of meat. The marks on your wrists won’t fade for days, but it’s the least of your worries right now, because the thought of a nice, juicy steak makes your mouth water almost more than Yujin herself. 

“…Are we getting cleaned up or not?”

Asking Yujin that is a dangerous gamble, but you know that Wonyoung will keep you on schedule, as you’ll never hear the end of her complaints if you keep her waiting. 

“I’ll get myself dressed and wait in the kitchen,” is all Wonyoung replies with, the hem of her towel flirting just above the curves of her ass when she departs. It’s enough to rile up your imagination, but you keep those thoughts suppressed. 

Because you’re sure there’s going to be a lot more where that came from before the night is over.

#ive smut #yujin smut #kpop smut #reader insert #izone smut #male reader #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #ive #yujin #ive x reader

[matan4il]

Update post:

Most of this will be about the unprecedented attack of the Islamist regime of Iran against Israel, but first I have to take a second to mourn a 14 year old boy, who was murdered in a Palestinian attack on Friday. At around 6 in the morning, teenager Binyamin Achimeir led his sheep herd out of the farm he lives in, but a few hours later, the sheep returned to the farm without him. At first, it was feared that he had some accident, or was dehydrated, and thousands of people voluntarily joined the search for him. On Saturday, at around noon, the IDF found his body, with signs of brutal violence on it. Based on the forensic evidence, he was murdered by several Palestinian terrorists, and he fought back. The army is still hunting down the murderers. May Binyamin's memory be a blessing.

Right, back to the Islamist regime of Iran's attack on Israel. I posted about it as soon as the news started being aired here, in case someone didn't know about it. The news broke past the normal time when people watch news on TV in Israel, I noticed it by chance right before I was about to turn in for the night. I'm physically okay, but I didn't get that much sleep, I had to wake up early to take care of some stuff, so I AM very tired, which is why I'm not going to do the usual thing I do, which is to look for English journalistic sources for everything, but I have no doubt even the stuff I won't look up can all be easily found online.

On a personal note, I can tell you that at 1:43 in the morning I heard the first explosion, but no sirens went off. A few more explosions followed, and only then did we hear the sirens. It was scary, for a moment we couldn't tell whether we're hearing explosions of missiles from neighboring areas, or whether something went wrong with the sirens, and we need to hurry into the bomb shelter. It seems like in Jerusalem specifically there was some issue with the sirens, I heard a reporter mention it. Also, the alert app didn't go off, even though it should have, at the latest when the sirens did.

This is what the Temple Mount looked like from an Iranian attack that could have easily destroyed the al-Aqsa mosque (it's not in the frame, but it's right next to where this was filmed):

Quick background: Iran is the biggest financier of anti-Israel terrorism for decades now, including funding Hamas, Hezbollah and the Houthis, all of which have been a part of a continuous attack on Israel since Oct 7 as Iran's proxies. Iran has sent its own military seniors to help and instruct those local terrorists, in places like Lebanon, Syria and Iraq. Israel has eliminated them whenever possible, this is not something new. On Apr 1, Israel carried out such a strike, in which it targeted 7 Iranian army seniors in Damascus, Syria's capital. Iran claimed Israel targeted the Iranian consulate in this city, but diplomatic buildings are all publicly listed. Iran has an embassy in Damascus (in a separate location) and no consulates. That's why the magnitude of Iran's response to this has taken Israel by surprise, because the Israeli strike wasn't that out of the ordinary. In fact, the US assassination of Iran's military commander, Qasem Soleimani, back in 2018, was a far graver blow for the Iranian regime, and yet it did not lead to an attack as massive as the one launched against Israel last night.

It is now known that some of the attack waves against Israel were intercepted by other countries, including The US, the UK, France and Jordan. It's been said that there's at least one more Arab country that helped in intercepting Iran's attack, but it can't be publicized. Many countries denounced Iran for attacking Israel.

We don't have numbers regarding the full size of the attack. Out of all the countries who participated in curtailing this attack, we know that the US has intercepted at least 70 suicide drones and 3 cruise missiles, while Israel has intercepted at least 185 suicide drones, 36 cruise missile and 110 ballistic missiles (that last one is the missile type that causes the most damage). Israel's interceptions are said to have been 99% successful, but like I said, no defence system is perfect. A small number of ballistic missiles did land inside Israel. One hit an Israeli air Force base in the south. There's over 30 people who got injured when rushing to the bomb shelter in the middle of the night (elderly people, including Holocaust survivors, have died from such injuries), and over 30 more ended up in hospital due to severe mental health reactions. On top of that, there's a 7 years old Muslim Bedouine girl who was injured by interceptors debris. A friend of her family that I heard being interviewed said the family wanted to go to the communal bomb shelter, but before they even had a chance to make it out of the house, the girl was hit by the debris piercing into their home, and she is suffering from severe head injuries. The hospital is currently fighting for her life.

The estimate of how much it cost Israel to defend its citizens from this one attack last night is 5 BILLION shekels (which is over 1.3 BILLION US dollars). That's for one night.

Israel will respond. According to one reporter I heard, that was decided as soon as it was clear how big the attack is, so this isn't about how much damage Iran caused, it's about how it crossed several red lines. This is the first time Iran itself attacked Israel itself, it's not an attack on an extension of Israel, nor was it done by using proxy terrorists. Israel has had terrorist organizations attacking it continuously since 2001, but this is the first attack from a fellow sovereign country since Iraq (led by tyrant Saddam Hussein) in 1991, so that in itself is crossing a red line. The size of the attack is also considered an escalation on Iran's part. In 2019, Iran launched a smaller scaled suicde drone attack on Saudi Arabia, and the latter's western allies refused to launch a counter attack, which led to these countries being seen as unreliable, and some Middle Eastern countries renewed their ties with Iran. That's why how it would seen in the Middle East if Israel doesn't react to an even bigger attack, and how it might drive more moderate countries to grow closer to Iran, is another consideration in why Israel must respond. Not to mention that launching such a mass attack basically caused a paralysis of the country once the first intel became known. For example, all educational activity (schools, universities, you name it) has been canceled, Israel's air space had to be closed, every single ambulance across the country had to be manned, and so on. That is not something any country can simply shrug off. Not to mention, Israel financially can't afford this reality to become normalized.

Not to mention, Israel tried to contain Hamas, PIJ and Hezbollah's rocket attacks for decades. What we got for it was the invasion and massacre on Oct 7. The lesson for most Israelis is that containing mass attacks on our population only leads to worse ones.

That said, there's also no desire here of getting dragged into a war on another front while we're still in the middle of one in Gaza and with Iran's proxies on several more fronts. So, Israel is looking for a balanced response, one that won't let this mass attack slide, but hopefully doesn't make matters much worse.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #israel under attack #israel under fire #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #israelunderattack #iran

[bas-writes]

Special Toy

Character: Doflamingo Reader: female (cis) CW: explicit n.sfw content, PWP, porn with feelings, one shot, master-servant relationship, reader has implied bigger breasts, vaginal sex Word Count: ~2.2k Synopsis: Continuation of this drabble. An especially rough nightmare forcefully drags a vulnerable moment out of Doffy. He's aching to hide his softness in his typical horny way. But feelings pouring out of open wound mess with his plan thoroughly. A/N: some little birds chirped it was @opopnomi birthday a few days ago. Birds chirped, Bas delivered. A long promised continuation of a drabble Momo especially loved. I usually don't write continuations of my one shots but...there are exceptions sometimes ;)

Your chest felt heavy.

You were torn between the urgent need to get rid of this pressing and the need to steal a few more hours of blessed rest. Your mind was drowsy after the night, but a certain memory was as vivid as if it had happened a moment ago. His nightmare. Nothing new and nothing unusual, he had been having them long before you had been allowed to sleep in his private chambers. But this one had been…different. He had been anxious about it, he had been scared. The sight of his eyes… His pale skin and piercing-blue gaze striking right into your soul, for the first time without the everlasting barrier of sunglasses—it was burnt into your brain, deeper than sleep and fatigue could reach.

Right. Doffy.

Fighting against the invisible sand under your eyelids, you pried your eyes open and looked straight at him, frozen in exactly the same position as he had been when you had caved to your dreams. He was asleep, sprawled on top of you, his head resting on the left side of your chest, over your heart. It fluttered at the sight, his vulnerability and peace such a rare sight for you, such a relief after the soul-clenching moment from barely a few hours ago. 

You dreaded waking him up, but the urge to touch him was stronger. Carefully, your fingers lighter than feathers, you ran it through his hair, from the receding line towards the scalp and the back of his head, where his locks were thicker and softer. Doffy liked you playing with his hair, but such an opportunity was given to you rarely, only in the most exquisite of his good moods. It felt like a theft, to touch him so unceremoniously and without prior consent. A sacrilege, even, as he looked like a saint at that moment. For a man like him to look holy and innocent… The stolen seconds seemed only more precious the longer you were caressing him, watching him shift his weight a little, melting under your hand, turning his peaceful face towards you— 

His eyes snapped open—and you almost let out a loud yelp.

“I wasn’t asleep,” he said as soon as you opened your mouth to apologize, his voice raspy against his words. “What time is it?”

From your position you couldn’t see the clock, but the curtains were open, and from the position on the sun you could tell it’d been a few hours since the dawn at least. Maybe nearing noon, even.

Doflamingo cursed at your answer and ran fingers through hair, pushing your hand out of the way when doing so. He lifted himself to his elbows, looked around scrunching, eyes sensitive from daylight and wandering aimlessly until they focused on the Den Den Mushi, cozy and napping on the bed stand. Silent, as far as you could recall; its loud cries would wake you up if they happened.

“Screw it,” Doffy decided and crushed back on top of you, pushing a silent groan out of you. Being twice as tall as you, and surely even more heavy, he didn’t make the role of his royal mattress an easy task for you. 

You nod in agreement and reach behind yourself, in a probably futile attempt to ruffle and adjust pillows under your head. 

“Why did you stop?” Doflamingo’s displeased grumble vibrates through your chest. You froze in place, then quickly put your hand where they were: one against his shoulder, the other playing with his hair. 

You were rewarded with a thoughtful hum. He shifted in place, giving your fingers a better angle to work with. One of his arms sneaked under you, pulled you closer and utterly trapped you within his reach, “Are you busy?”

“No, my lord.” Since he had assigned you as his personal ‘assistant’ your duties consisted of serving him only. You had been given some freedom of choice whether you wanted to be around him or not, but in the end, you were entirely tied to his whims. If he wasn’t in the mood to let you go, you had to stay by his side, period.

The question, yet your answer, was completely meaningless.

“No one will be looking for you, if you won’t show up today at all” Doffy concluded, his lips curving into a smirk against your breasts. “But they surely will be for me. We better hurry.”

With his hand sneaking between your thighs and pulling your nightgown out of the way, the last crumbles of sleepiness succumbed, giving place to taut attention. The touch was ticklish, as for now, spilling goosebumps and first, simmering waves of warmth up your legs and over your hips. You figured he would want to cover his prior vulnerability, one way or another, and morning sex wasn’t an option you would be opposed to. Your body was a bit late, still rousing, lazy to respond to his attention: but you were ready the moment he started, familiar excitement building between your legs, soon to be begging for a release.

Doflamingo was taking his time—acting against his words again. He reached over your hips to squeeze the curve of your ass and pull you closer to him, but soon his attention was brought to your chest. Delicate lace, barely keeping your breasts cozy during the night, gave way to him; he pulled it down with his teeth, licked lips at the sight of your orbs pouring out the restraints. His sinful, enormous mouth was almost big enough to fit one whole; he didn’t lose time to toy with your nipple, just swallowed and sucked, arching your back and pushing your chest into his face. He hummed low, appreciating your reaction.

You mewled and tightened the grasp in his hair, in the first serious moment of pleasure forgetting yourself and pulling. He let go of your breast with a loud pop, his gaze flickering up and his hot breath grazing the trail of his saliva on your skin. On your way to apologize, you let go of him and lifted your head, soon frozen as your eyes, bare eyes met halfway. 

The realization hit you with a wave of desire so huge you almost moaned just at the sight of the deep blue, piercing you with its intensity.

He was going to fuck you without his glasses on.

“What are you chirping for?” Doflamingo teased, nipping just above your wet nipple. “I barely touched you, you hungry thing.”

Your nightgown was all pulled to your waist. His hand trailed from your back between your legs again, long fingers brushing along your slit. You made a noise again; with him looking directly at you everything felt more vivid and strong, and so delicious you felt your thoughts and control slipping away from your command. 

You had always been an obedient doll, a toy in his hands reacting to his slightest whims. But now? You truly belonged to him, from the core of your soul and mind, from the thinnest wires of your nerves sparking pleasure under his fingertips. Doflamingo opened you like a book, the favorite volume he’d learnt by heart, but craved to know, nevertheless. He traced your skin like words inked into the finest paper, followed the phrases of your moans and spasms, reached straight for the beloved parts.

Two fingers slid into you with such ease you felt embarrassment bubbling at the back of your head. He teased you about it, about your boiling wet cunt spread for him, but exact words flew past your ears. You just threw your head back and rested your legs wide against his side, ready for the moment he decided he prepared you enough for not breaking you too much.

“Fufu, my little girl is so eager here,” Doffy cooed into your ear, words sweet like honey and sharp like a knife. The hand wet with your juices pries your legs even further open, pressing your knee to the mattress as he slotted his hips closer. The cloth he had wrapped around his waist slipped down to his knees; his cock stood ready and throbbing, thick and veiny, and big enough to split you in half if only he lost control for an inch too much.

You opened your mouth to beg and plead for it, but he was already leaning closer, faster than you possibly could form thoughts—yet, put them into words. 

“Don’t worry,” he hissed through clenched teeth, pleasure and impatience tearing him the same way as you were tormented. “You were good for me. So, I’ll be good for you. I always am. I am always good for my little, silly toy, am I not?”

You nod, squirming under the weight of his gaze and the pressure of his thick tip spreading you open. 

“That’s right, that’s my good girl.” Doflamingo spilled praise as easily as he had been whispering vulgar dirt through the nights before. “Such a good toy, taking me so well…”

Wetter and looser with each word you finally fit him to the brim, the thick base of his cock stretching you near to your limit. With his hair and shoulders out of your reach, you clench hands on his forearms, nails digging red lines under bright, barely visible hair. With your eyes half-closed, you kept drowning in his blue, fighting desperately to not miss even an ounce of this rare sight. 

Again, he didn’t make the task easy for you. 

The first thrust pushed a deep moan out of your lungs—and he barely moved his hips, just a little friction and a little more depth. The strain in your thigh ached under his weight; he kept pushing and pressing until you melted like butter, limits in your hips faltering under his will.

Once you were wide open and stretched far inside, Doflamingo scooped both of your legs in the air, knees far to the sides until he met resistance. If he kept pushing, your body would succumb, you were sure of it, your mind too clouded with lust to assess your possibilities right. But instead, he bent your legs, hands hooked under them guiding them towards your chest.

“Breathe,” he warned and shifted his weight forwards, slamming you almost in half, buried into you achingly deep.

Breathe—but how? You had no idea. You had no idea your body could do that in the first place. You had no idea it could bring you pleasure, to be squeezed this way and smashed with his weight as he was pounding into you relentlessly. His moves were harsh, deep and merciless—but at the same time something between the two of you was different, affectionate, soft even. It was intimate, soaked with emotions, with his vulnerability still vibrating between the two of you.

Something had changed, something had broken in him that night—something had torn his eyes open and dragged his soul through them. 

“No, don’t look away,” Doflamingo rasped as your eyelids started giving up under immense pleasure. “Don’t look— Fuck. Don’t close them. Look at me, Y/N.”

The sound of your name was like a magnet. Mustering the remaining crumbs of sanity, you fought against the odds and returned his gaze. Doflamingo was so close now, towering over your much smaller frame yet just a few mere inches away from you, the distance between you two, physically and emotionally, crumbled to dust.

“Look at me.” It sounded…like begging. Or so you would think, if you heard it from anyone else. Doffy wouldn’t beg. Doffy wouldn’t cry. Doffy wouldn’t let go of your legs to cup your face between his huge, warm and soft hands. Doffy wouldn’t—

The kiss stole the last ounce of breath you still had. The tension in your groin snapped, your toes curled and your back arched. With his long, nimble tongue so weirdly soft between your lips, you spasmed in his arms—and came, thrown from immense pleasure into numb darkness in a span of seconds.

The feeling of his lips against yours is the last thing you noticed before slipping from your high into oblivion.

Your chest felt heavy.

This time it was like drowning. And you were so lazy with your attempts to reach the surface, from the tips of your fingers to heels and toes tangled in comfortable darkness. You were somewhat in the air yet lying, held in tight embrace against fuzzy and drizzled with sweat chest. Your breath was still shallow and fast, your limbs too soggy to reach out and grab onto something. You had no choice but to let those arms cradle you and protect you from the cold, morning air pressing mercilessly into the bedroom.

Den Den Mushi was twaddling from its place on the bed stand, its tiny voice hoarse and taut. How long had it been ringing?

You found some power to peel face away from Doflamingo’s chest. You looked over your shoulder, over the mess of crumbled sheets and the remains of his late-night panic. Den Den Mushi looked at you almost pleadingly before a swift blow of threads knocked it down on the floor. 

It rang one last time and fell silent somewhere under the bed.

“Screw it.” Doflamingo whispered, his voice breaking and barely audible. He squeezed you tighter, his arms shaking the stronger he was pulling you into himself. 

By the time he finally let you go, the sun over Dressrosa had disappeared on the other side of the sky.

#doflamingo x reader #doflamingo x you #doflamingo x y/n #doflamingo imagine #doflamingo scenario #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece x y/n #one piece imagine #one piece scenario #bas writes #op #doflamingo #female reader #sinful

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

If you are open to requests, I would like to request anything with Fae!Hyrule or maybe a feral Fae!Hyrule (follows classic Fae rules, protect your name, don’t thank a Fae, don’t make a deal, etc) , or even a cute fluffy Fae!Hyrule X Reader fic. There just isn’t enough fairy Hyrule, especially X reader fics, they are practically nonexistent. I just read your last post of a fairy/malice Hyrule X reader and am hooked. Your previous work has fed my obsession, thank you 🙏 .

Order up!

Sorry that this ended up taking so long! Just wanted to make sure everything worked out. This unintentionally got really long and i didn’t wanna convolute things as I intend to do. Special thanks to @litrllyvoid who proofread this.

Hope you enjoy~

tw: Dementia loosely described

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Your mother always told you that you were blessed. You’d watch from your little stool as she weaved her fabrics, shuttle passing through the rungs of yarn with precision. Her words were low and hushed, embellishing every word with an air of mystery. You were six months old, she said. The forests were cold and menacing as they still were, and within those woods, she sung. An odd act many of the people now would warn against for the very same reason she did it. The fae. Tricksters of the woods with sharp tongues and sly deals, your mother had them bless you. Now, you see the price. While you never were injured as a child and never fell ill, your mother took the brunt of your illnesses. She sat now in her rocking chair, hands too worn to use her loom as her mind withers. Wrapped in the great blankets she used to weave, she doesn’t remember that she made them. She doesn’t recall who she used to be. You read her books about the fae sometimes and her tall tale is all she ever mentions anymore. The small smile she has is all that’s left of her —truly her— anymore. So, with a book, a green cloak and some payment, you set off into the forest with the hopes of recovering what’s since been lost.

You’ve since grown increasingly thankful for your cloak, the furry lining keeping you blessedly warm as the fog only grows thicker and thicker. The light begins to dwindle from your path despite it only being sometime around noon. The birds are gone now. Their chitters and chortles are replaced by wind whispers and the quiet sway of your breath. You stop at an odd formation of rocks stuck in the ground, crocus and clover flowers blooming around the edge of each rock that forms the circle. Carefully you step in, leaving a velvet bag of silver coins as payment for your intrusion. The air stands still and the humidity increases, each breath uncomfortable.

“Hello there” The voice is as cautious as you feel, and yet clearer than your vision at the moment. You turn to see a thin, scruffy looking boy, brown-blonde waves of hair tousled like a sea of their own. His head is tilted to the side, hazel eyes combing over you carefully. He holds out a hand in expectations. You hesitate as you hand him the bag, especially as his thin lips twitch towards a frown. “I do not want your money” He shakes his head, his nose crinkling at its bridge.

“Wh-“ You turn fully now to face him and he doesn’t feel as scary as the stories paint his kind to be, perhaps that makes them even more terrifying. “Then what do you want?” His lips part to a tight smile, the edges of his teeth showing, you can’t tell from where you stand if they’re pointed.

“Your mother could sing, couldn’t she?” A chill skitters down your spine as his deceptively innocent voice calls. You don’t even dignify him with a response, suddenly feeling unwelcome on the grass you stand. “My mentor actually dealt with it— not me” He chuckles at the end of his words, complimenting them like birdsong does to sunrise. “We love a good song you know” You can’t for the life of you tell what it’s supposed to mean, what he intends behind the simple words. And yet his pointed ears wiggle as he smiles reassuringly, as if you weren’t bargaining over a life.

“That’s the thing-“ You choke over the words, feeling yourself root down to your cause. “She’s unwell because-“ Looking at his curious eyes picking you apart, you feel bad at the sentiments you hold. It feels as if your mind is being mixed, and yet there’s nothing apparently wrong. “Because of the deal. I want to know how to fix it.” You’re unsure exactly of how you managed to keep your voice so even, but the boy in front of you buys into it. He nods in acknowledgement before his lips pursed, his sharp cupid bow shifting.

“An eye for an eye” The wind picks up, ruffling the trees. Suddenly the small boy in front of you no longer feels nearly as harmless. “A life for a life, one must understand.” His eyes close and he sinks in on his feet, speaking so calmly of mortality. Truly because his kind holds so much over it “To save yours, she sacrificed her own. That cannot be easily undone” His words make you sink as well. Nothing to be done. Not even for the ones who’ve done it. “Be not afraid. There is a solution” His smile is back, tight and lacking the warmth of a human. “A life for a life.” He giggles, as if the words were funny “Say you managed to bear me a child- Oh that won’t do. Too cliche. And horribly disrespectful” A freckled hand curls around the base of his chin as he ponders. “Are you unwed?” His eyes glint with a silvery light that you failed to see before. In the pure shock of the moment, you shake your head, shuffling back slightly. “Really? Wow- Sorry. If you are willing to spend the remainder of your life with me, I will save your mother. Only if we are married —wholly married, not simply for the sake of the spell— then will I save your mother. You'll still be able to visit and what not, but you'll live with me, as is proper.” He holds a hand out to you, and your fingers twitch at your side.

“Uh-“ You sip in some of the uncomfortably humid air and feel your head get lighter. An eye for an eye. Your life for hers. She was a good woman, one of unfortunate circumstances. Feeling calloused hand meet your own sealed your fate to something you could only hope to be respectable. The fae aren’t known for breaking deals. Nor are they known for breaking their pacts. Till death do you part, afterall.

#yandere link x reader #linked universe #link x reader #yan!link #yandere linked universe #lu x reader #fae!hyrulexreader #fae!hyrule

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Arpeggio

Chapter Twenty

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Sam/Madison, Bobby/Annie, Pam/Lee, OFC Gibson, Ash, Benny, Cesar/Jesse, Kevin, Cas, and Charlie

Word Count: 4031

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, recreational drug use, surprise birthday guests, Dean being a giant kid, actually it's everyone, more history and an uh-oh, unbeta'd

A/N: You know how you outline bullet points that you need covered in a chapter and then you write all day long and forget one of the biggest ones until literally the last sentence? Yeah, me neither.

Anyway, I can't believe we are TWENTY whole chapters into this beast. Thank you all, so SO much for hanging around. xoxo Stu

Series Masterlist

Dean’s morning began with a blow horn blast compliments of Sam, who then received a bitch slap from his very frightened and at odds older brother. 

“Rise and shine, jerk. It’s the last year of your thirties!”

Dean groaned and buried his head beneath the pillows, poorly hiding from anymore horns. “Hephha waaff to wff agy hpp birfay”

“WHAT?! I can’t hear you?!”

Dean flipped Sam off and rolled over. “Helluva way to wish a guy Happy Birthday.”

Sam laughed. “Don’t worry, that’s not all.”

He pulled out a bag of the greasiest breakfast burritos from a shop around the corner from Charlies that they had discovered after being up all night gaming, drunk and caffeinated out of their minds. 

“Oh my god, you do love me!” Dean snatched the bag out of Sam’s hand and grabbed a burrito and cradled it to his chest. He looked up at Sam and said fervently, “I take back every mean thing I’ve ever said to you.”

“No you don’t. You’re just hungry. You want me to leave you two alone or should I take it back downstairs where the coffee lives?”

Dean stared down at the warm lump in his hand and honestly considered eating it right away, but Sam was right and scrambled eggs and peppers were not something he wanted to clean off his sheets whenever he found them again after the coming festivities.

“Yeah, thanks, let me grab some clothes and I’ll meet you down there.”

“You got it,” Sam took the burrito back as Dean dropped it into his outstretched hand. 

“No fucking with it now, I know how it’s supposed to be wrapped,” Dean warned with a firm pointer finger.

Sam rolled his eyes and his hair along with them and stalked out of Dean’s room towards the backstairs that led into the kitchen.

They ate breakfast in relative silence, coffee and contemplation and all that. Just two brothers celebrating a year that both of them were worried wouldn’t come. Aging might be a bitch, but it is definitely better than the alternative. And for the Winchester brothers, a blessing they weren’t ever quite sure they deserved.

Charlie and you slinked in just after noon, after Dean and Sam had half-heartedly worked off their breakfasts and showered for the day. You had the most obnoxious balloon cowboy hat for him while Charlie presented him with a ‘birthday prince’ sash that he was under orders to keep on all day.

Dean eyed you both with a simmering shame-twinged annoyance. This wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. He already got looks when he went out as it was, plus only a douche of a grown man demands strangers acknowledge his birthday that way.

“Guys, come on. I’m not— this is a little ridiculous,” Dean didn’t want to be ungrateful.

You sighed. “Okay, fine, spoilsport. Just let us take a few pictures and you can ditch the hat.”

“Oh! The hat was the best part!” Sam lamented.

“Can it, Sammy,” Dean snipped.

Charlie chuckled. “Okay, but you can totally wear the sash where we’re going, because nobody else will even be there to see you in it, just your friends.”

Dean pursed his lips and looked the redhead in the eye, she wasn’t going to let him win. “Great—- just great.”

Lee and Benny were gonna have a field day with this one.

“Atta boy! Say CHEESE!” Charlie chirped, taking way too many shots and angles with him and his birthday attire.

They hung out and shared a joint, picking at a cheese tray that Sam had pulled out. Sure they had places to be, but that was the beauty of being the guest of honor, everything revolved around Dean-time. And as absolutely narcissistic as that sounded, Dean could get used to that kind of schedule.

The party bus arrived just before two. It was actually the band’s touring bus, which meant it was roomy and stocked to the brim with alcohol and edibles. Bud itself was never left on the bus to dry out. Inside were Benny, Cesar and Jesse, all moderately sober as they were also acting as light security detail for the day. Pam and Lee brought Gibson along, which told Dean wherever they were headed was going to be fun, however wholesome. Madison and Annie were there with Bobby upfront driving ‘The Proud Mary’ as the bus was so lovingly called. And around the table in the small kitchenette were Kevin, Ash and Cas.

Holy shit, Dean had to blink.

He turned around on the stairs and looked at you, who were the only one daring enough to pull this off. “Are you kidding me right now?!”

“What?” You smirked and batted your eyelashes with fake innocence.

Dean looked at you and felt something in his chest crack.  But before he could get overrun by the emotions, gratitude, fear, even anger, Sam cleared his throat.

“In or out, Dean, air’s on.”

Dean nodded and blinked away the awe. “Thank you,” he grunted beneath his breath and turned to the cheers and jeers of his people.

“There he is!”

“Birthday boy!”

“Hey Winchester, I like your do-hickey,” Benny teased.

“It’s a sash, dumbass,” Cesar quipped, flicking the brim of Benny’s cap.

“HAPPY BIRTH-DAY,” Pam started offkey and then everybody joined in. Dean nodded along, faux-conducting and fighting the blush on his cheeks with every out of tune note.

He bowed as the song ended and then griped, “Yeah, okay, enough of that. Let’s get this shit started, shall we?! Uh, Gibson you good to DD on the way home, buddy?”

Everyone laughed.

“UNCLE DEAN! I can’t drive yet.”

“You sure?”

“I’m only six!”

“I don’t know,” Dean said thoughtfully, bending to look the stringbean over. “I think you could pass for seven or eight maybe.”

“Nuh-uh!”

Dean ruffled his hair and pulled him into a hug. “Fine! I’ll let Bobby keep his spot for today, but when you get your license, come talk to me about a job young man,” Dean promised.

Dean eased onto the bus, with you and Sam on his heels until you broke off to find a seat. He nodded and accepted hugs and high fives before he made his way to the table in the back, well that section’s back. The bunks and the bathroom were down a short hallway past the eating area and bar.

“Hey guys, thanks for coming,” Dean said broadly, but his eyes couldn’t stop looking for Cas’.

“Of course, man! Gotta celebrate another trip around the sun,” Ash exclaimed, his hair bouncing with his enthusiasm.

Kevin sniggered as he looked up at Dean and back across to Cas. “You know he’s real and everything.”

“He even speaks,” Cas deadpanned, turning his glare at Kevin.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Happy birthday, Dean.”

Dean felt the lurch of the bus entering traffic and panic resurfaced. “Good to see you. But, uh, we’ll catch up at some point? I gotta,” Dean sputtered and thumbed toward the general direction of the side-by-side seats along one wall.

“Of course,” Cas nodded, but gave Dean a tentative smile. Dean felt lightheaded but he felt better when he had a solid seat underneath his ass. Talk about a mindfuck. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath and silently thanked the universe that he agreed to these super secret, group, birthday shenanigans.

The adventure park was suspiciously abandoned, even for a weekend day. But Dean took it as part of the present, no paps, no families with kids too young for school clogging up the Skee Ball lanes or having accidents on the go karts. He was kind of amazed y’all were able to pull this off, but it was far enough away from the busier parts of town that maybe you had scored a good deal. Or maybe Dean didn’t want to think about how much you and Sam and probably Bobby had shelled out for the day.

Even after years of his own success, Dean felt guilty whenever people spent money on him.

“Okay, line up for your wristbands. Everyone gets one, if you run out of tokens, tough luck. Laser Tag and Go Karts are available if we ask, just make sure there’s a big enough group to make up for the staff being pulled to those locations. Pizza will be set out as a buffet at five. I’ll get pitchers of water and soda out in the meantime,” you used a teacher's voice over the rowdy crowd as they beelined out of the bus and up to the gates.

Dean was almost giddy; he was so excited.

You bestowed a lanyard over his head, instead of a wristband. Which meant unlimited tokens for games and a turn in the vortex machine where paper tickets floated around and he was supposed to catch them for prizes. He was banking on letting Gibson take that responsibility, but hadn’t said anything because he knew Pam hated to spoil him, especially on someone else’s birthday. Oh well, being a surrogate Uncle held some leeway afterall.

“First one to the gokarts is a rotten egg!” Ash called out, making everyone turn on their heels and book it through the doors.

Dean laughed at the reversion to grade school taunts, but definitely tripped Sam on his way passed.

Somehow, Bobby and Annie got the first kart, but then again Dean didn’t remember seeing them as you made your little announcement, so they must have had a head start. The line was a mass of people bickering for a turn, which color kart they wanted, or which number if you were Charlie and Kevin. Dean had his shotgun attached at his hip, bouncing on the soles of his feet. But everytime he glanced up and saw Cas talking to Sam or nodding at something Pam said, he had to do a double take.

In all, they filled nearly all the available twelve karts. Dean and Gibson were in number 11, Lee, Benny, Pam, Cas, Ash, Kevin, Cesar, Jesse and Charlie all drove solo. While Sam and Madison, Bobby and Annie paired off. No one could get you in one of those things if they tried, and they all knew better than to try. Which Dean was grateful for, he hated rehashing your shit for other people’s understanding.

They did four lap races for almost an hour, with Dean sneaking past Bobby for the final victory. But everyone (except for Ash and Charlie) had lost count of their stats by the time they got inside to chug some soda and hit the arcade area before dinner.

Dean was sweating, faux satin clinging to his back through his shirts as he polished off a cup of flat cola. But he couldn’t keep the grin off his face long, seeing all of his favorite people milling around, trying to one up each other or just beat one another to a coveted game. It was the stuff of childhood birthdays he had only ever dreamed about, but you had made possible.

Lee held Gibson on his shoulders as they took Sam on at the free throw alleys. Charlie and Madison were playing some kind of shooting game while Kevin and Cesar watched them, obviously impressed by their stances with the fake rifles. It made him think of Jo and Big Buck Hunter for the briefest moment, but he tucked that away and chose to relish in the moment instead. Cas and Jesse were at the air hockey table and Bobby and Ash huddled by the wall of Skeeball machines, not partaking themselves, just watching you as you sank ball after ball into the 300 or better rings.

Dean couldn’t pick what he wanted to do next, so he just watched for a few minutes, soaking in the joy around him.

Eventually, his stomach chose for him. The pizzas were delivered in a tidy row down a side table of every cheap topping option available. There was even a mushroom option, which was probably the only thing close to a vegetable in the place, but it meant Sam couldn’t bitch. Everyone chowed down, standing and sitting in hodgepodge groupings, laughing and debating on what to do next.

Pam was comparing Cas’ and Kevin’s tattoos as Dean approached, paper plate firmly in hand, chewing as he silently butt into the conversation.

“Looks good, I mean, he’d hate them, but you know that would only be for show,” Pam said about the late Rufus.

“Yeah,” Cas agreed, pulling his arm back.

“Crotchety old bastard,” Dean added between bites.

“May he rest in peace,” Pam added, respect and mirth flitted in her eyes.

“So, Cas, how’s the kid and the band and fucking everything?” Pam changed the subject.

“Uh, we’re—- making progress,” Cas said simply, clearly unsure what to do with Dean’s presence. He worried at his lip ring like he always did when he was uncomfortable, but Dean was too damn curious and stubborn to take the hint.

“They’re finding their sound, it’s kind of cool to see it happen. You should go with me sometime to their rehearsals. It’s very organic,” Kevin explained. “It’s like they can sense what the other is thinking and just go for it.”

Dean couldn’t even pretend that that didn’t sting.

He cleared his throat. “So, where do you guys practice?”

“Oh— my place,” Cas said.

The fact that Kevin had been hanging with Cas and getting tattoos was one thing. The fact that he was in on this new band and its budding chemistry all while getting to spend time in Cas’ space was nothing short of getting his knees kicked out.

Not to mention, Cas had barely a townhouse with only one extra bedroom. He always preferred to live simply, as he put it.

“How does that work?”

Pam crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows, seeing where this was going better than Dean. “Are you a garage band, Cas?”

He just shrugged.

Dean chuckled under his breath. “That’s what you meant by organic,” he said to Kevin.

“Not exactly— that’s part of it, but I don’t know if it’s like some gene thing or a psychic connection. They’re just really good together.”

Pamela inhaled as Dean squinted at Cas, who had gone stock still with Kevin’s words.

“Gene thing?”

“Dean—,” Pamela warned.

“Oh, crap,” Kevin said, realizing too late that Dean was apparently more in the dark than he’d known.

Castiel remained silent, eyes boring into Dean, waiting for the explosion. It made Dean sick to realize that Cas was afraid of him, of his temper, still.

Dean set down his slice of pizza and squared his shoulders, trying to keep it civil. To not be that guy anymore. “Cas, come on man. What’s that about? He some long lost cousin or something?”

“Jack’s my kid, actually.”

Dean sputtered. “Yeah right, nice one.”

Everyone glared at him.

“You’re serious? How? When? I would have fucking noticed if you had actually boned down some chick—- I mean how old is he?”

Cas rolled his eyes and Dean had the sinking sensation that absolutely none of this was his business. But Cas had been his best friend for most of their lives— it was important information to have, even if it was twenty years too late.

Kevin and Pam silently agreed to disappear, but Dean couldn’t pinpoint the moment it happened. They were there and then they were gone.

“Dean,” Cas chastised.

“No— I deserve to know. I mean, what the hell? A kid?”

Cas raised his eyebrow, the one with the damn ring in it and Dean wanted, not for the first time, to yank it out.

“Kind of like I— like we deserved to know you were in an underground fighting ring? Like you had some sort of deathwish pact with a pimp and a known murderer?”

Dean felt an icy chill run down his spine, his hands instantly turned to fists and he had to breathe to keep the rage at bay. But his chest was so tight and the shame had become worms in his stomach. He wasn’t going to puke at his own birthday party, not from something as pathetic as his own mistakes. Alcohol would have been an easier taste in his mouth.

The party continued around them, but Dean didn’t reply. He couldn’t.

Cas seemed to register that and looked down at his boots before meeting Dean’s eye once more. “Dean, I’m sorry— that— that was uncalled for.” 

Dean swallowed down the bile and exhaled.

He unclenched his fists, shaking them slightly to feel something other than overwhelming emotion, the kind he’d need a few sessions with Missouri to even name.

“Don’t worry about it,” Dean grunted, head down as he got himself together.

“Dean— we should talk, but I can’t really explain myself in front of everyone.”

Dean hummed.

“It’s just— I think there’s a lot we never got off our chests and it only made the last couple of years harder— on both of us.”

“It seems like everyone else already knows your business, Cas. Just kind of sucks to be the last to know.”

Cas nodded, eyes still tight, still on guard.

“But I guess the way I was— kind of makes sense. I didn’t deserve to know.”

Cas’ face softened. “Dean— that’s not. Let’s not, right now. Later. Okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Dean inched around the corner, weapon drawn and head on a swivel. He couldn’t see much, but endless nooks for the enemy to hide. The arena was dark, out of necessity, but it only added to the adrenaline pumping through him. Dean nodded to his teammate and they spun around the next edge, fingers on their triggers as they stood back to back. 

He really wished they had communication between the other members of Green Team, but that was just rich people thinking for a family entertainment center. It wasn’t like they were storming the beaches of Normandy here.

Something moved in his periphery but before Dean could turn you shot behind him, getting Kevin square in the chest. You both watched as Kevin fell dramatically to the floor, one down, five more to go.

“Nice shot,” Dean said out of the corner of his mouth.

“I feel like that was too easy,” you replied, searching the area while you whispered.

“Might have been a scout,” Dean agreed.

“Yeah, but—” 

He felt you shift behind him and he rounded to cover you, but Benny was already there, a near wall of guns behind him. 

“It was a fire fight!” Ash screamed out of his spot above them, taking Charlie out with the distraction.

You kept your body turned, lessening their target and fired without even blinking, but Sam had height on you and you ended up taking each other out. Dean, unable to make a shot connect, cursed, turned tail, and ran, ducking down a ladder and trying to loop back on Benny and Pam.

Three down to his team’s one, that he knew of, still good odds.

But then he saw Jesse sitting with his back against a wall, clearly down. Dean needed to find Cas and Cesar yesterday. Or they wouldn’t be able to call it in their favor. He crouched down and checked his back, without you to watch his six he felt extra exposed, though he kept to the edges, using the shadows to his advantage.

He heard whispering and he immediately hit the deck, rolling until he was flush with wall length-wise. But the voices stopped about ten feet away, either on the level above him or around the corner out of sight. Dean waited, gun drawn and senses on overdrive.

The telltale electronic chime of a chest plate activating sounded off and the voices turned from whispers to shouts of shock. Someone had gotten Pam. 

Which meant that Lee and Benny were the only ones left from Sam’s team.

And Lee was alone looking to the rafters from the sounds of it.

Dean army-crawled around the corner and got Lee from underneath, his cackle of victory the only way Lee even knew he was there.

“You sonofabitch!” Lee griped, helping Dean up before disappearing to the land of misfit toys, aka following Pam to the nearest exit.

Cesar appeared, seemingly out of nowhere and nodded Dean back to the rest of the team. Cas and Ash were still alive and kicking, strategizing on how to find or draw out Benny. But before Dean could turn and let Cesar back into the huddle, his chest piece crackled to life: Benny had shot him in the back.

Dean waved him off, trying to catch up with Benny’s trail, as Ash and Cas flanked him widely. They tried to cast a broad net, but instead they left too much space and Benny wound around them and took Ash out without Dean or Cas even seeing him.

Dean looked at Cas and Cas nodded, doubling back and letting Dean take point. 

It felt like hours, but really it only took maybe five more minutes of creeping around the obstacles in the center of the arena for Dean to catch sight of Benny. His sturdy frame ducked behind a pillar as Dean slowly followed. But he was too slow, because Benny had spun around and had his gun on Dean’s back plate before Dean could move.

“Bang bang,” Benny taunted, but he didn’t pull the trigger. He wanted Dean to surrender, but that wouldn’t do anything unless… Benny didn’t know Cas was still out there.

Dean held up his arms, but he didn’t drop his weapon.

“Alright, cher, nice and easy,” Benny coaxed Dean to turn face him.

“You got me,man,” Dean huffed, playing it up.

“Well, even the Birthday Prince loses sometimes.”

Then Benny’s chest flashed to life.

“What the—”

“And sometimes they still win,” Cas’ deadpan interrupted Benny’s surprise.

“Nice one, Cas!” Dean held up his hand for a high five, but Cas just cocked his head as the overheads snapped on, blinding them all in sudden light.

It wasn’t the first time that Dean thought Cas had some super-human senses. And he was happy to think that it probably wasn’t the last time either. Not anymore.

*

Everything considered, Gibson won the day. Every single adult, even Kevin, forked over the prize tickets they had wracked up on their wristbands for Gibson to exchange for a four foot long stuffed dog from some show or another. Dean fist bumped him and helped him carry the thing back onto the bus. But before Dean could haul himself up the first step, Sam pulled him back to the curb.

“Here— don’t say I never got you anything.” Sam handed him a massive rainbowed Slinky.

“Holy shit! I didn’t even see that! This is awesome,” Dean geeked out. “Thanks, man.”

Sam just shook his head and grinned.

Everyone got back on the bus and started in on the adult beverages as you sorted the tab and made sure everything was alright with the staff. Dean sat on his hands, forcing himself not to run back in and add on his own tip. He really did trust you, but some habits were hard to break. 

“Ready?” Dean heard Bobby ask you before cranking the door shut.

The bus rumbled off the curb and into the neverending traffic of the city at night. But they had everything they could possibly need on board. And when you sat down in the spot beside him, Dean couldn’t think of a single thing that could make his birthday any better.

He looked over at you and smiled, soft, just a hint of it on his lips, trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. You rolled your eyes and smiled back. And yeah, today might have been one for the books. But there were still chapters left unwritten between you two and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to wait anymore to find out what they’d said.

Then his phone rang. “Dean? Happy birthday! How did you want to go celebrate?”

It was Bela.

He had completely forgotten to invite Bela.

And apparently, somehow, so had you.

Fuck.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #slow burn #rockstar au #fake dating #dean fluff #dean angst

[asnowfern]

I Take Care of Papa Too

A/N: What? It's almost Sunday noon where I am? Sorry, I can't hear you over the fluff I wrote for Day 7 of @cassianappreciationweek

Enjoy!

In hindsight, Cassian knew that he would be facing tough days ahead of him the minute Alea sneezed in his face mere moments after Nesta left for her diplomatic mission in the human lands. Within a few hours, Cassian was blessed with the full package of a cranky, coughing, sneezing and feverish toddler.

The House was a godsend, giving him periodic reminders of mealtimes and to monitor her temperature. By the second night, Alea's fever had broken and he could collapse with exhaustion and relief.

Cassian had faced down armies and feared Fae generals but the courage it takes to force feed his daughter medication? That was something even the infamous Illyrian commander was afraid of.

"Papa?" A sweet voice pulled him out of his self-rewarded nap, continuing at his noncommittal hum, "Alea wants to go fly!"

Cassian groaned slightly, blinking his eyes open, "Now?"

"Fly!" She repeated in a tone which accorded no arguments.

He pushed through the heaviness settling in his bones and scooped his daughter up, looking into a matching pair of hazel eyes.

Trying his luck, he asked, "Can papa take a nap first?"

Flecks of green and gold danced in the young fae's mischievous eyes, her little wings tucking in as she answered resolutely, "No. Let's go fly now!"

Heaving a loud mock sigh, Cassian carried the both of them to the balcony and activated the shield with a tap on his siphon, "Get ready"

The wide toothy smile on Alea's face was all he needed as he launched them up in the air, his daughter tucked firmly in his arms. Relishing every excited yelp and giggle from the toddler, Cassian tuned out the discomfort in his joints and the pounding in his head as they soared over Velaris.

Cassian's heart ached at the thought that one day, Alea's own wings would grow strong enough and she would no longer need her papa to carry her to fly over the city. Tugging her in closer and tighter, he flew higher and faster, knowing just how much his daughter loved those.

It was hence a surprise when his daughter piped up, her eyes suddenly bright and wide, "Home."

He paused in mid-air and turned a concerned gaze on her, "You want to go home?"

The young fae's lips trembled as she said shakily, "Want to go home."

Cassian frowned, worry brewing in his belly as he launched them on a direct path back to the House of Wind. Did he go too fast? Was it too soon after she had barely recovered? Should he call for Madja?

His feet had barely touched the floor before Alea jumped off his arms, running as fast as her little legs could towards the kitchen. The Illyrian followed closely, the unease in him building with every step.

He watched as the toddler snatched up a cup, spell-proofed against shattering, and filled it with water. She thrusted the full cup at him, the water splashing slightly onto the floor.

"Drink," she commanded.

Cassian's fingers closed around the glass and lifted it to his mouth, taking a small sip. His eyes never once left his daughter.

"Papa, drink!" She ordered, her mouth set in a grim line highly reminiscent of her mother.

Once the glass had been drained, chubby hands wrapped around his hand and pulled him towards his room. She stood at the foot of his bed, jutting out her chin as she leveled the same authoritative stare at her father. It would have been effective if it wasn't so darn cute.

"Sleep!"

Cassian felt the edges of his mouth quirk up as he let his daughter usher him into bed and pull a blanket over him.

"Comfy?" She patted the covers around him, asking a question often asked to her.

"Very," he soothed, "but aren't you going to join me?"

"Papa is warm! Papa needs to sleep!" She declared.

Cassian's chest warmed and melted, "Papa is ok, sweet pea. Why don't you join me? Alea is sick too."

"No," her lips puckered into a pout, mini fingers continuing to smoothen the covers, "Alea takes care of papa too."

Hoisting his heavy arms over the blanket, Cassian pulled his protesting daughter into bed with him, murmuring softly into soft golden brown curls, "Papa gets better with hugs."

"Really?" The small skeptical voice asked.

"Yes," he insisted sleepily, the pull of the soft mattress impossible to resist.

***

The scent of his favourite stew wafted over, rousing him awake. He smiled at the golden thread thrumming contently in his chest. Sure enough, his beautiful mate in all her stern braided glory sat next to him, her fingers thumbing through a page of her book.

"Alea?"

"Asleep in her room," she replied, not taking her eyes off the book.

"You came back early," he remarked.

Nesta snapped her book shut, settling it at the bedside table. She turned her silvery blue eyes on him, "My babies are sick. How could I stay away for too long?"

"Alea said she will take care of me," he said, unable to turn off the slightly smug tone in his voice.

"Of course," his mate replied matter-of-factly as a smile played on her lips and she carded slender fingers through his curls, "that's what we do in this household."

#cassianappreciationweek2023 #Day 7 : Free #cassian #nessian #nessian fic

[mcufan72]

It's not a thought, it's a fact

Loki x female reader(18+)

18+/ enemies (?) to lovers/ bantering/ mutual pining/ fluff/ a little bit angsty/ implied smut but no actual smut.

Loki is part of the Avengers, you are one of Tony's office assistants.

"I won't team up with him, Tony!"

"She would love to," Loki smirked.

"No, Laufeyson, I would never. I hate you," you complained.

"She doesn't!" Loki teased back, grinning at Tony.

"I do hate you and I'll never team up with you," you snarled, glancing disdainfully at Loki.

"Stop it, you're worse than toddlers! I had enough of kindergarten now. You two team up for that mission and wait in the car for the delinquent. Observe the area and when you see him leaving the building you message us so we can get him," Tony became obviously furious.

"No! Are you serious Tony? I would rather spend a whole day with a hundred snakes in that car than with him!" You stated harshly.

"As I said, she likes me," Loki grinned smugly, hands on his hips.

"No, I hate you… Tony, please why can I not stay behind my desk and do my work? He can do it alone." You begged.

"No, he can't and you know why…", Tony responded.

"I'm not his nanny! Ask one of his countless affairs to pamper his royal ass." Your anger grew and you definitely didn't want to sit in the car together with Loki.

"My what?" Loki raised his eyebrows.

"Your countless affairs…don't play dumb, Laufeyson. You should tell your playthings to giggle and scream more quietly when you…bless them with your …princely features." You complained and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Loki opened his mouth to say something but he decided to swallow down his words and closed his mouth again.

"Y/n, you know most of us are on a mission and we don't have enough agents here to solve the actual problem. We need you to support us. So please, do me the favour, get in that car with Laufeyson and observe the said delinquent!" Tony commanded strictly with no room for further discussion.

"I've no other choice I guess…," you sighed.

"Nope!" Tony answered.

"It's going to be a nice afternoon…," Loki rejoiced, smirking again.

"Shut up, Laufeyson," you snarled.

On the way to the car parking lot you didn't even look at him, you tried to ignore him. Why couldn't you just stay in your office? Why were you punished to do this observation with Loki Laufeyson, the bane of your existence?

"Don't even think about talking to me. Just keep your mouth shut and don't you dare bother me!" You said to him with a pissed-off undertone while you both entered the car.

"Oh, I'm quite a good storyteller…"

"Laufeyson…"

"…I could tell you an Asgardian fairytale…"

"…shut up…"

You arrived at the observing location and Loki parked the car some distance from the building you had to observe. You loosened your seat belt and tried to get comfortable in your seat. You still ignored him but you couldn't ignore how sexy he looked when he drove the car, his veiny forearms and hands holding and controlling the steering wheel. One of his arms now rested on his bent leg. He was too tall for this car and he had some struggles finding a comfortable sitting position.

"Why don't you like me?" Loki asked you curiously.

"Oh, I don't just not like you, I hate you!"

"Why? What have I done to deserve this?" He wanted to know, seemingly disappointed.

"You're arrogant, spoiled, rude, vain, hostile… wanna hear more?"

"Oh, yes please it's going to get interesting," he scuffed.

"You're insatiable, cheeky, unpredictable …and disgusting and a man whore …I hate men like you."

"And you're full of prejudice. You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. You didn't even try once!"

"Why should I? I've seen enough." You answered annoyingly.

"What have you seen?"

"All the women who got nibbled by you …and I…I've heard them. How many women do you need per day? One? Or three? For morning, noon, and evening? Like 'three women a day take the pain in my cock away'? Are you ever satisfied?"

"Satisfaction is not in my nature."

"Oh, yes that's not new information …"

"Why do you think I whore around and have lots of women? Is it wrong to have needs? Don't you have them?" Loki asked you curiously.

"My needs are none of your business. At this point our conversation is finished, Laufeyson."

The observation and the long wait for the delinquent Tony wanted to get caught was boring and tiring so after a while you fell asleep. After an hour you woke up yawning and stretched your limbs.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty. Did you sleep well?" Loki asked you sarcastically.

"I didn't sleep, it was just a slight slumber."

"Aahh, okay so snoring is your favourite hobby…I get it."

"Shut up… and I do not snore."

"You do…it's cute." He said softly.

"Fuck you, Laufeyson!"

"You don't have a kind word for me, do you?"

"No! You're just a pain in the ass. Any signs of the delinquent?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"What question?" you asked him annoyed.

"Why do you think I make out with a lot of women and let them warm my bed?" Loki sounded a bit hurt.

You huffed and inhaled deeply.

"Laufeyson… it's not a thought, it's a fact."

"And you know why exactly?"

"I. Can. Hear. Them. My room is pretty close to yours. And you must be very good in the bedroom department when they squeal that loud and with such delight." You answered him with faked kindness.

"Should we try it? I could show you how …"

"Uurrgghh…no! Never, Laufeyson. You're not that good-looking that I would share a bed with you. And by the way, I'm not that easy to get. I'll never be a further notch in your bedpost. You'll never have me!"

"Very good, because you wouldn't even be my third choice!" He said harshly.

Your harsh words felt like you had stabbed him with his sharpest knife. He stared through the windscreen while tears welled up in his eyes.

You stared through your side window and bit on the inside of your quivering lower lip. Why did his words hurt you? You knew you were nothing special, you were just an average woman, not in the slightest as beautiful as all the models or whatever they were he used to devour every day.

He would never find you attractive or worth talking to and so you decided to continue hating him. A few minutes later you saw the wanted criminal leaving the by you observed building.

"Loki, look… over there on the left…," and your one hand grabbed his forearm, the index finger of your other hand pointing in the direction of the fugitive who left the building.

Loki saw him too and while he contacted Tony immediately, he looked down at your hand on his arm. Your touch caused goosebumps all over his skin and it felt so damn good.

"Mission accomplished," he informed Tony briefly.

You quickly withdrew your hand from Loki's arm and you scolded yourself inwardly. It was definitely unnecessary to touch him but it didn't feel bad…he didn't feel bad.

"What was that?"

"What do you mean?" You weren't able to look at him and you kept staring through the windscreen, your gaze fixed on the wanted criminal. That guy seemed to feel safe because he didn't walk any further.

"You touched me."

"I didn't touch you. I just wanted your attention...," you huffed.

"Well, you succeeded." He couldn't avoid a grin.

You felt a burning heat on your face…you were blushing like hell. Within a minute, the Agents, which weren't far away from your current location, arrested the wanted criminal and Loki and you were allowed to return home. You spent the car ride back to Stark Tower in awkward silence.

You returned to your apartment and took a shower. After that, you put some body lotion on your body and spread it over your skin. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You were satisfied with your appearance and your body. Both weren't flawless or perfect but acceptable. Would Loki like your body? Would he even like you one day? You thought about the countless nights when you had pleasured yourself while thinking of him. You always wished it were his fingers sliding through your wet folds and fingering your cunt, his thumb, that circled your needy clit, making you moan. With every orgasm you gave yourself you silently called his name. Why did you even ask yourself that question? Why should he want you? It seemed he could be a pleasant conversation partner. His wit and his charm were adorable. But instead to befriend him you did everything to expel him. And you did it just because you were afraid to fall in love with him and anyways it would be a love he never would reciprocate. He would never want a Midgardian girl.

You got dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans and a loose black T-shirt with a deep v-neck. You had just left your apartment when you heard pleasure screams ring out over the corridor. You inhaled deeply and rolled your eyes in annoyance. You had just returned less than an hour ago and he already fucked the next woman. Unbelievable. You looked in the direction where Loki's apartment was…and a door was opened.

But it wasn't Loki's door. It was Bucky's and a blonde giggling Barbie double left his apartment and walked past you without greeting you. Not that her bad manners would bother you but you didn't like women like her. Bucky's apartment was diagonally opposite of Loki's and suddenly realization hit you. It wasn't Loki who was whoring around, it was Bucky! You had often seen the same types of women here, nearly every day and you always assumed they were Loki's affairs.

You headed to the kitchen to prepare yourself some pasta and a fresh salad for dinner. You turned the music on and sang along while preparing the ingredients for your meal. You felt bad now because you did Loki wrong. The sounds of pleasure you had heard all the time never came from his room. How embarrassing. You had been such a fool and Loki had been right, you were full of prejudices. The whole time he tried to tell you that he didn't change his partners like others changed their socks. But you never really listened to him. You didn't know how but you had to apologize to him.

Could she have been more obvious today? Now Loki knew for sure you would never be interested in him, let alone fall in love with him. He has been smitten with you since the first day he saw you. Your appearance, your behaviour, the way you moved, the way you spoke to others…you were adorable. You never had a nice word for him. It seemed you always looked at him disgusted and annoyed.

Sure! It was because you thought he was a man whore. You only bantered with him and he'd rather let you insult him than not talk to you at all. It was enough for him because he would never get the chance to make you fall in love with him and to make you his woman. He tried to focus on other women but they were never interested in his personality or in things he loved to talk about. They just wanted his body and his cock to satisfy their carnal desires. To be horny sometimes and to surrender to pleasure was nothing bad per se. But if he was honest he just wanted to share it with you.

After he had taken a shower, he stood naked in front of his large mirror, looking at himself. He knew he was attractive. After all, he was a god. Every part of his body seemed to be perfect. His long raven hair, which cascaded over his broad shoulders, his strong arms with the well-built biceps, his big hands made to grab a woman's hips or hold her in his arms, his chiselled chest and his perfectly build abs, the seductive v-line and the happy trail that leads to his cock, those long muscular legs, his well-toned ass …nearly every woman he got to know wanted exactly this, and only this…the perfect muscular, godly body to satisfy their needs. But there was one muscle they never wanted, they never cared about …his heart. It stayed cold and empty… until he met you.

He had lost count of how many times he had stroked himself to orgasm at the thought of you. How much he wished it was your hand which stroked his aching length and fondled his swollen balls. Your hands would feel heavenly when they would roam over his body to caress him and take his pain and loneliness away. To hold you in his arms and fall asleep with you together in his bed was his biggest wish. You looked so cute today when you had fallen asleep in the car seat next to him.

And besides all of this, you were an eloquent and lovely woman and he'd love to talk with you about all the things you both were interested in. But it would stay a dream. Everything would stay a dream and that was the greatest pain of all.

He got dressed. He wore a half-open white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and dark blue trousers, his feet bare. He was hungry so he headed off to the kitchen to have a look if there was something he could eat for dinner.

The closer he came to the kitchen the louder became the music from there and then he saw you. You were preparing some pasta and a salad and you sang along to the music. He knew how much you loved doing it, he often watched you from afar. It always made him smile but he never dared to join you when you were alone in the kitchen, preparing some food or making some tea or coffee. And you were barefoot again, like him. Loki grinned happily because it was something you had in common. You both loved to walk around at home without shoes and socks.

He was starving and your pasta smelled delicious. Normally he would leave the kitchen area immediately until you would be gone again but this time, he didn't leave. Something told him, he should try to talk to you tonight.

"Hello y/n. It's me. Just don't notice me! I just want to look for something to eat," Loki said softly as he approached from behind. He didn't want to scare you because you were still singing and hadn't recognised him entering the kitchen. You turned around to look at him and greeted him and this time you were not annoyed or harsh.

"Good evening Loki. Did the smell of my pasta bring you to the kitchen? Please, join me. You can help me get the table ready." You asked him nicely.

Loki was amazed because he wasn't used to hearing a friendly word from you.

"Are you sure you want me to join you?"

"An absolutely legitimate question but yes, I'm sure, Loki."

"Not 'Laufeyson' anymore?"

You both chuckled and smiled at each other.

"No, it's unkind and inappropriate," you said and bit nervously into your lower lip.

"No confessions of how much you dislike me? No confessions of how much you despise me? I loved the bantering between us," he said hesitantly, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"I love it, too, Loki," you answered soft-spoken.

"Do you still hate me?" Loki questioned thickly.

"I never did. But don't forget, I'm not even your third choice."

"No, you aren't. You are always my first choice, my beauty! And my only choice. I'm going mad from the desire to hold you in my arms. I'm not a man whore. I just dated a woman sometimes and once in a while I also spent the night with a woman. And my apartment is soundproof, I'd never expose the woman I share my bed with. I'm still looking for the one and only woman who wants to be a part of my life and who wants to own my heart. The woman who allows me to love and worship her. And who loves me back in the same way."

His voice was so deep and rich and you felt like he had wrapped you in a velvety blanket

"I know. The sounds of passion never came from your rooms. I learned my lesson earlier before I headed to the kitchen. Please forgive me, handsome. I did you wrong. And you think I could be the one for you?" You asked him shyly.

"It's not a thought, it's a fact. I'm not gonna fuck you tonight, sweet thing. I want to court you, impress you, seduce you. I'll make you mine one day, I'd love to hear your cries of pleasure but…I want that romantic stuff, too. And I want that first. I've never wanted any woman the way I want you. I never wanted these women who threw themselves on me just because of my looks. I want you to fall in love with me. You're too precious to me to be just a fling. I want you to stay with me."

"I want all of this, too. I was such an idiot, Loki, full of prejudices and so jealous of the other women who weren't even yours. And I was so afraid of falling in love with you because… I thought you would reject me. After all, you are a god. I'm deeply sorry. Please, Loki court me! Let us have all that romantic stuff." You explained and a tear ran down your cheek.

"Your wish is my order, my beauty. Do you allow me to kiss you?"

"Only if you allow me to kiss you back."

"I wish for nothing else…"

Loki pulled you gently into his arms and cupped your cheek in his hand, his thumb trailing over your cheekbone. He kissed your lips tenderly before he deepened the kiss and it became a passionate one. His strong, muscular body flush against yours felt heavenly and you reciprocated his desirable kiss and wrapped your arms tightly around his neck. It was the sweetest, most genuine and most longingly kiss you ever got or gave someone. And he smelled so good and you were completely enchanted by him.

Loki couldn't believe that you had allowed him to kiss you. Your soft lips on his felt unbelievably good and your scent and your taste intoxicated him. You were enchanting in every way. This kiss wasn't just a kiss. It was a promise that you would be honest with each other and not just this, you would also be the only true love for each other.

"Would you like to have dinner with me? I cooked pasta with salmon, with a hint of dill and paisley and I made a fresh salad. It's enough for two!"

"I'd love to. Could be a good start, couldn't it?" Loki smiled lovingly at you.

"Is this our first date then?" You asked him softly.

"It's our first date then!" Loki answered and he kissed you again until you both were breathless.

💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚

Taglist:

@lokisprettygirl @wheredafandomat @anukulee @smolvenger @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @obscureenigmatic @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14

#loki #loki x female reader #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x reader fluff #loki laufeyson #loki x reader fic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader angst #loki x fem!reader #loki x female reader fluff

[bradshawsbaby]

Hey babe I was wondering if you could write something based on Mrs. Bradshaw being a teacher and because it's teacher week Bradley comes into her office during recess.

Love Everly!!!

Hi, love! In my actual Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, Mrs. Bradshaw isn’t a teacher, so this drabble can exist as its own little entity. I hope you enjoy it!

I admit that it’s completely self-indulgent, but I tried not to be too specific about the grade level so that all my fellow teachers can enjoy it! Happy Teacher Appreciation Week! 🍎

It might have been Teacher Appreciation Week, but it seemed as though your students had missed the memo. Their behavior was off the walls. Between the constant interruptions during your lesson, the incessant requests for water, the bathroom, or some combination thereof, and the wad of gum you’d found squished into your new classroom rug, you were feeling particularly unappreciated.

Though it was barely noon, you collapsed at your desk as though you’d just sprinted a full marathon, every bone in your body aching as you sat down for the first time all day. It was finally your lunch period, but you were too exhausted to even go to the fridge in the teachers’ room and grab your food. You just wanted to sit there and soak up the blessed silence for a few precious moments. The floor was littered with scrap paper and broken pencils, and the desks were all askew from your kids’ mad rush to get to the cafeteria, but you could’t bring yourself to rise from your chair.

Pulling your phone out of your bag, you opened your text messages and were a little surprised not to see anything new from your husband.

Bradley had the day off from work today, and the two of you had been texting earlier while you were on one of your planning periods.

How’s your day going, honey? Feeling appreciated yet? 😉

Not exactly 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

That good, huh? Should I come down there and give those kids a piece of my mind?

You could give it your best shot. But these kids are tough. Even you might not be able to handle them, Lieutenant 😂

If anyone can get through to them, it’s you, baby! But I’ll have the wine chilled for when you get home, just in case!

You’re the best ♥️♥️♥️♥️

Sighing softly, you put your phone down on your desk and dropped your head into your arms, ready to take a quick power nap. You were startled out of the stillness, however, when you heard a knock on your classroom door.

Groaning, you lifted your head and were about to tell whatever stray student was at your door that they had better get back to the cafeteria, but the warning died in your throat when you saw through the window who was standing outside.

“Bradley!” you exclaimed, jumping out of your chair and hurrying to open the door. You let out a gasp of delight when you saw not only your husband, but the large bouquet of red roses and sunflowers that he’d brought you. Your eyes widened even further when you realized he was holding the flowers in one hand and an iced coffee in the other.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in, Mrs. Bradshaw?” he teased, winking at you as you stared back at him, dumbfounded.

Shaking your head, you giggled and stepped to the side, making room for him. “Come in, come in,” you said, taking the flowers and the coffee and putting them on your desk before flinging yourself into his arms. “What are you doing here?” you asked as you peppered his face with kisses.

Bradley grinned as he wrapped his arms around you, capturing your lips with his own and kissing you deeply. “Sounded like you were having a tough day and needed some cheering up,” he explained, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “Plus, it’s Teacher Appreciation Week, so how could I not shower my favorite teacher with all the love and appreciation she deserves?”

“These flowers are so beautiful, baby,” you murmured in gratitude, still holding onto him as you looked over your shoulder at the bouquet. “And iced coffee, too? You’re my hero!”

“Figured you could use a little midday pick-me-up,” Bradley winked, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

“Oh, thank you, honey! I love it!” you told him earnestly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and hugging him tightly.

Being the true hero that he was, your husband insisted that you sit down and enjoy your coffee while he cleaned up your classroom and rearranged the desks until they met your exacting standards. By the time he was done, you realized you only had a couple minutes left until the bell.

“A fine job you did, Lieutenant Bradshaw,” you told him, smiling as you stood up and inspected his work.

“Glad to be of service, Mrs. Bradshaw,” he chuckled, giving you a little salute.

“I’ll have to come up with some kind of reward. Maybe when I get home later,” you whispered against his lips, kissing him softly.

“Mmm, I like the sound of that,” Bradley murmured in response, his brown eyes twinkling.

Just as your lips met for one final kiss, the bell suddenly rang and the door flew open as a whole bunch of your students came tumbling into the room. Their eyes widened when they saw Bradley and then they started giggling behind their hands.

“Alright, boys and girls, take your seats. Lieutenant Bradshaw was just leaving,” you grinned, pushing him towards the door.

“I’ll see you at home, Mrs. Bradshaw,” Bradley whispered, squeezing your hand as he stepped out into the hallway.

“Bye, honey,” you whispered back, laughter bubbling up inside your chest as you watched the other teachers on your floor stare after your husband.

Mrs. Levi, your classroom neighbor, glanced over at you with a grin and let out a loud whistle. “Happy Teacher Appreciation Week to us!”

#bradshaw drabble #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster x reader #rooster x teacher!reader #rooster x wife!reader #top gun: maverick #miles teller

[aloysiavirgata]

Prompt: M&S playing Cards Against Humanity with the Gunmen. Scully’s deal. The white cards (you pick the black card): Two midgets shitting into a box, Pixelated bukkake, Making the penises kiss, Meatloaf, the man.

She’s high.

She’s really fucking high, the way Agent Scully never could be but in the way Doctor Scully gets from time to time. Agent Scully doesn’t get to vote on these decisions anymore. She never had any fun.

Well, very little fun. She was sad a lot. She made questionable choices.

“Still way too weird,” Frohike says, eyeing her.

“Like that time in Vegas,” Langley says in his adenoidal voice, as he does every time she is stoned.

She remembers Vegas a bit, would absolutely murder someone for a cigarette right now, Christ.

“I would absolutely murder someone for a cigarette right now,” she says, cheerfully.

“Murder them later. Come on, Scully.”

“Meatloaf the man,” she murmurs, then cracks up, tears running down her cheeks.

Mulder groans. “That’s the third time you’ve read that one out loud! Pick a card.”

She frowns at him, wounded. Sticks her lip out with Shirley Temple verve. “I’m weighing my options.”

The Gunmen sigh in unison.

“Get your woman in line,” Frohike grouses.

Scully throws a corn chip at him, misses by a yard.

“I’m like a sniper,” she whispers loudly. “I snipe.”

“How high are you?” Mulder hisses at her.

“About 5’2,” she hisses back.

Mulder flicks her ear. “I’m counting to three. One -“

Scully chews her lower lip, then proudly lays “Making the penises kiss” on the table, face up. “A romantic, candlelit dinner would be incomplete without…” she reminds them. Helpfully.

“BYERS IS THE CARD CZAR!” everyone shouts at her.

Scully, unperturbed, pats Byers on the cheek. “You’re doing a good job,” she says. “I’m proud.”

Byers sighs and dips a piece of celery into the bean dip. “Thanks, Scully.”

She beams. “Two midgets shitting in a box, that’s…what’s it called if it isn’t racist but still very bad about specific people?”

Mulder considers this. “Offensive? Derogatory? Condescending?”

“Yes,” she says, solemn. “Those. Do we have any corn?”

“What was her last one?” Frohike asks. “She never read it.

“Pixelated bukkake.”

“Mulder!” she exclaims, scandalized. “That one isn’t appropriate.”

He guffaws. “For whom?”

She nods her chin towards the Nativity. “The baby Jesus.”

Langley cackles.

Scully frowns at him. “Even pixelated, Ringo. The Blessed Infant shouldn’t be exposed to oral sex. Kissing is G rated.”

Mulder puts his head on the table. “I quit.”

“No,” she says, aghast. “You retired! Skinner said so.”

There are tears of silent laughter running down Frohike’s cheeks. His shoulders are shaking.

“How long is Maggie keeping William,” Byers asks, watching as Scully makes a sandwich of two pieces of cheddar cheese and half of a strawberry.

“Noon at least,” Mulder says into the napkin holder.

“Meatloaf the man,” Scully squeaks, and laughs hysterically into Byers’s shoulder.

#xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #my fic #prompt #the lone gunmen #au

[xxsabitoxx]

How the Pillars Handle Grief

Warning: talks about death — implied that the reader is who they are grieving the loss of

A/N: Me? Writing angst? Instead of smut?? Don’t worry more smut is coming as soon as I figure out what I want to write lol. For now — here are some sad ass head canons

Giyu

Giyu handles grief quietly

He’s never been one to show his emotions — especially not after losing Sabito. So he’s incredibly hard to read at times. Honestly he isn’t sure if it’s a blessing or a curse

He was so used to you being around, one of the few people he opened his heart up to. So for you to suddenly disappear as quickly as you appeared leaves him broken.

But as I said before — he handles these feelings quietly.

He slowly shuts himself away, really only leaving his home when he is assigned a mission or to patrol his sections. Other than that he barely leaves his bed.

Shinobu is the first to go and try and talk to him, she figures he probably won’t answer for her. If that’s the case, she’s send Tanjiro

“Tomioka…” she knocked softly, it was nearly noon and every window was shut tight. She got no answer so she knocked again. “Tomioka…I’m coming in.” She slid the door open, walking into the dark home. “At least open some windows.” She wasn’t sure if he could hear her, but she spoke as if he could. “Tomioka…” she called again, still no answer. Shinobu opened a few windows as she walked, letting sunlight filter into the dusty home. “He’s living in the dark…” she finally made it to your once shared room. “Tomioka?” She hoped for a response. “Come in.” Soft and hoarse, he sounded miserable.

Giyu doesn’t even bother to put on his corps uniform unless it’s absolutely necessary

He really doesn’t even try to get himself out of the bedroom. He just sits…or lays down…not much else

He doesn’t even have the energy to tie his hair up or brush it for that matter

Shinobu recruited Tanjiro to join her the next time she visits Giyu. Which becomes a daily occurrence.

Slowly but surely they try to help him cope & get back to his normal life. It’s very hard though.

What surprisingly helps him a lot is talking about you.

That and visiting you, though he doesn’t have the courage to go alone. Not yet at least

“They wouldn’t want you to wither away, Giyu.” Tanjiro sat beside him on the ground, eyes scanning over the engraved stone. “I know.” His voice is barely above a whisper, eyes glossy as he lights incense. “You have to keep moving, for y/n’s sake. Don’t let all the love they gave you go to waste.” That got to him, maybe better than any words had so far. “You’re right.”

Shinobu

Shinobu handles grief angrily.

The initial arrival of the news caused her to go into a blind rage. One fueled majorly by guilt.

She was a doctor and Hashira, so why couldn’t she save you? Those thoughts will keep her up at night.

Unlike others, she had many duties on top of being a Hashira. Meaning she doesn’t have the time to sit down and grieve.

Shinobu becomes colder, meaner, doesn’t force a smile on her face. In a way she returns to her old mannerisms before she adopted Kanae’s.

“Shinobu?” Aoi’s voice was hesitant. “Yes?” Shinobu didn’t bother looking up from her desk, still writing whatever she needed. “Don’t you think you should…take a break.” It had been two weeks, Shinobu barely allowed herself to sleep at this point. “I’m fine, Aoi.” Her voice was curt, not allowing any room for questions. Aoi sighed, muttering a soft “okay” before leaving. Shinobu was acting far different than she had when they lost Kanae. There were only a few tears shed, all her grief was bubbling rage. She didn’t even have the heart to go visit you.

It takes a few months, but eventually she has the heart to go and see you

That’s when the tears finally come — seeing your name made everything more final

She choose to go alone, but Kanao and Aoi followed. They didn’t know how she would handle it and figured it would be best if she wasn’t completely alone

She stayed there for hours, well after the sun had set. It was on and off tears, low mumbles of your name and many apologizes

Neither Aoi or Kanao dared to approach her, eventually they left her alone completely. Aoi said she’d return if Shinobu wasn’t back before day break.

She initially couldn’t stomach going to see you. Now she couldn’t fathom walking away. Leaving you all alone.

When she didn’t return, Aoi went out.

“Shinobu…” her voice was quiet as always, hands clenched tightly as if bracing herself to be yelled at. The reaction she got wasn’t one she expected. Tear filled eyes looked up at her, puffy and swollen. “A-aoi.” She had never seen Shinobu so vulnerable. That brought Aoi to tears, the younger girl falling to her knees and wrapping Shinobu in a tight hug. “Don’t blame yourself, please don’t blame yourself. Y/n wouldn’t want you to blame yourself.” It left her lips over and over, Shinobu’s cries only grew louder.

Rengoku

He’s absolutely lost.

He isn’t even sure what to do really. There are so many emotions overwhelming him at once that he sort of shuts down.

Kyojuro handles grief probably the best out of all our pillars. And by that I mean he handles it in a healthy manner. Or… as best as he can

He doesn’t shut himself out, he doesn’t get angry, he does his best to keep moving forward with his life.

It’s extremely helpful that he has Senjuro and Tanjiro to help him get through it.

He doesn’t hesitate to go visit you. In fact it’s the first thing he does once everything is said and done

“Good morning, my love.” He sits before you, a soft smile on his face. “I hope you’re doing well.” He lights incense, the smell becoming an odd comfort for him. “I miss you…more than I thought I could miss anything.” He was young when he lost his mother, what he wouldn’t give to be able to see her again. But still — he was young when she passed. His memories grew fuzzy as he got older, sometimes he worried he’d start to forget her kind face. You on the other hand, you were a slap to the face. One he didn’t think he’d be able to recover from.

Kyojuro doesn’t realize it at first, but he smiles less often than usual. Something that is startling for those around him since he always had one plastered to his face

Kyojuro on the other hand doesn’t think much of it, he still has a lot to smile about. But it’s hard to do so when the biggest source of that smile is no longer with him.

Though, luckily, he never lost his appetite. If anything, he ate even more in your honor.

For the first month of your absences, Kyojuro does struggle a bit with getting out of bed. Senjuro on the other hand is there to constantly motivate his brother and help him get on with his day.

I have a feeling that Kyojuro wouldn’t look to be with someone for a very very long time. Maybe even never. Though Senjuro talks him out of that mindset.

“Don’t you think y/n would want you to be happy.” Senjuro was sitting beside him, looking at the stone with your name engraved on it. It hurt him to see it, he couldn’t imagine the way his older brother felt. “I think they would, but they wouldn’t want me forcing myself either.” Silence fell over the two brothers for a moment. “Do you think you’ll ever fall in love again, Kyojuro?” That was a question Kyojuro himself hadn’t even thought about. It was something he probably would deem impossible. “I’m not sure. Though I trust that y/n is guiding me. If they think I’m ready, they’ll bring someone along for me.” What a beautiful way to think of it, that brought Senjuro a little bit of peace.

Tengen

He’s a wildcard when it comes to grief

I have a feeling Tengen doesn’t cry nor does he get mad

Similar to Giyu, he’s a bit more subdued. I also think he probably shuts himself away from the rest of the world for a week or two

He has Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma to support him. But they are grieving as well. So it’s a whole lot of emotions going on in the Uzui estate

I think there are a lot of tears on his wives part. But I really don’t think Tengen himself is a crier.

“Good morning.” His voice is soft and sleepy. He hasn’t been able to get much sleep since you left. “Good morning.” Hinatsuru’s eyes were just as tired as his own. “Has Suma gotten out of bed yet?” Hinatsuru shook her head, handing him a plate of food and encouraging him to eat. So he did. Something that had become a struggle was gaining an appetite, nothing was appealing anymore. “Maybe we should go for a walk today…visit them.” He held his breath, waiting for her reaction. “I think that would be a good idea. Though I’m not sure Makio can handle it yet.”

Tengen visits you often. He can handle it a lot better than his wives can. He visits his siblings pretty often as well.

It still hurts to see your name though, it really isn’t fair in his eyes. But it’s part of the occupation

Tengen really tries to rationalize all of this death stuff. If he didn’t, he’d be a bigger cry baby than Suma.

Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma try to visit as often as Tengen, but it’s a lot for them. Out of the three, Makio is the worst. She can’t stand seeing your name there, it makes her angry. She lasts a minute before storming off

Hinatsuru on the other hand often accompanies Tengen. Suma usually tries but ends up crying to much.

This gives Tengen and Hinatsuru a lot of time alone with you.

“Do you think they are watching over us?” Hinatsuru lit another stick of incense, sighing deeply. “I believe so.” He was staring at the flowers he placed at the base of your stone. Hinatsuru’s quiet sniffling had become quite common, it didn’t alarm him anymore. “I miss you.” It was soft, only meant for you to hear where ever you were. Tengen’s hand laced with hers slowly, eyes closing as she squeezed it tightly. “Do…you think this will ever get easier?” He felt like he already knew the answer. Quietly, Hinatsuru cleared her throat. “I-I’m not sure. Truly I can’t imagine this ever becoming easier.”

Muichiro

He starts to forget more frequently

Your absence however is something that sticks with him

Muichiro doesn’t really outwardly express his grief. It’s honestly hard to tell IF he’s grieving

I think most people hope that he forgot, that he doesn’t really remember you.

Genya often checks up on him, Shinobu as well. Mostly because she wants to see what he is feeling.

“Good afternoon, Tokito.” Shinobu smiled softly as he sat in the stool across from her. “Hello.” His crow was sitting on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?” She crossed her legs, watching for any signs. “Alright…normal.” He shrugged, not really understanding why Genya had brought him here. “Nothing out of the ordinary?” He shook his head again, blinking slowly as he took in his surroundings. “No…why am I here?” Shinobu sighed, turning in her stool to scribble down some notes. “I just wanted to see how you were.” She kept writing, it seemed he really didn’t remember. “If you happen to see y/n, can you tell them I’ll be going on a mission soon.” Shinobu’s writing stopped.

As I said, your absence sticks with him. But he doesn’t always remember the reason why you’re gone.

So it’s a bit upsetting for people when he asks them to deliver a message to you

One day, when Muichiro really doesn’t seem to remember why you’re gone…Genya takes him to visit you

It didn’t go over particularly well. No tears fell, but anger certainly bubbled up.

Muichiro sat there for hours, Genya trying to calmly explain that you were gone

“They aren’t coming back.” Genya lit the incense, saying a prayer in his head as he set it in the holder. “How long have they been dead.” There was a sorrowful tone in Muichiro’s voice, one Genya rarely heard. “It’s been about a month now.” They were sitting before your stone, Genya was fidgeting with his hands, quietly wishing someone like Tanjiro was with him to better explain. “How did it happen?” Genya inhaled sharply, he hadn’t asked that before. “It was on a mission, gravely injured.” He kept it simply, it’s not as if he’d remember much anyways. “I see.” It took Genya a minute to realize Muichiro was crying.

Mitsuri

Mitsuri is a crier — I’m taking like inconsolable scream crying

She doesn’t handle grief or death very well at all. She knows it’s part of being a demon slayer but that doesn’t make it any easier for her

The first sign of her taking the grieving process rough is the fact that she will lose her appetite — which is very concerning for everyone around her

If it weren’t for Shinobu, Obanai and Kyojuro…she’d never get out of bed.

Mitsuri deals with grief very openly and very harshly

“Let me wash your face.” Obanai wet a cloth with warm water, carefully rubbing it across her swollen cheeks. Tears cling to her lashes, the usual smile on her face was nowhere to be seen. She had been doing well, eating some breakfast when a memory triggered another crying fit. It was like walking on eggshells around the love pillar, even the smallest mention of your name sent her into a spiral. Though most found that to be natural when it came to losing someone you loved so dearly. “Does it ever get easier?” Those words caught him by surprise, “I hope it does.” He smiled sadly, pulling her head to his chest. If it weren’t for the counter she was sitting on, she probably would have collapsed as she began to cry.

It takes Mitsuri a few months to be able to visit you

The first time she went, she nearly threw up from crying so harshly. Kyojuro had to drag her away.

Within a year, she’s able to think about you without sobbing. She took your passing the absolute hardest

She visits you daily, bringing her meals with her to eat with you.

It was a suggestion made by Shinobu, something along the lines of “y/n would want you to eat”. That was enough to get at least some of her appetite back.

She’ll spend hours talking to you, going through all sorts of stories and memories. She knows you are listening from wherever you are

“I had your favorite food today, even ate double the portion for you. Food just doesn’t taste as good when you aren’t with me. But it’s stared to become more enjoyable again now that I’m sharing it with you.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, saying thanks for her food before she began to eat. “This isn’t fair.” She sniffled softly, swallowing her food and setting it aside. “You should be here eating with me. We could have shared so many meals…” she wiped her eyes vigorously, angry that she was still letting herself get so upset even a year later. You wouldn’t want her to cry every time she thought of you. “I miss you.” Her lip trembled, silently wishing that something would bring you back to her.

Obanai

Obanai is quiet and angry

For a few days he’s honestly in denial. There is no way you could have lost. Never mind lost so badly that it cost you your life. He refused to believe it

It wasn’t until he was asked to go view your body that it really smacked him in the face. He’d be frozen, staring in shock at your peaceful but beaten form

He’d disappear for a while, draw away entirely from everyone and everything. He would do his missions when needed but other than that, no one heard from him

Mitsuri would send letters while Sanemi sent crows, Obanai rarely responded back for the first month or so after your untimely demise

“Tell Kanroji I’m fine.” Mitsuri’s crow fluttered away, leaving him alone once more. That’s how most days went, so far from home but that poor crow still managed to track him down. Kaburamaru was wrapped around his neck, poking his cheek softly. “I know…I’ll eat soon.” He truly had no appetite, his heart ached at the mere thought of doing something you couldn’t do anymore. Even waking up in the morning was a battle in and of itself. Another crow made it’s way through the window of his room, tucked away on the quiet countryside. This time it was Sanemi’s crow, informing Obanai that the burial was over and the stone had been placed and engraved. It was probably the worst news he has received.

It would take Obanai a handful of months after that to return back to his home

It took Sanemi and Mitsuri to get Obanai to go see you. The figured it would be something to give him a little bit of closure

Truly Obanai was more startled by the fact that Sanemi was putting up with Mitsuri

The closure they assumed he’d get didn’t happen, if anything it made him more upset seeing your name there

Obanai would never truly cope, he’d always harbor a lot of anger in his heart over the whole ordeal. Mostly because he blamed himself.

“I should visit you more often…but it hurts. It fucking hurts y/n. I never thought I’d be seeing your name on a stone like this, not when you were so young…at least not before me.” Kaburamaru’s face brushed his cheek, collecting a stray tear that fell from Obanai’s eye. He sighed, head hanging low as his black hair covered his face. “This isn’t fair, not one bit. It should have been me. You deserved to live a long happy life, I was the one that was supposed to die first.” His shoulders shook, hot angry tears slipping down his cheeks. “Wait for me, please promise that wherever you are…you’ll wait for me.”

Sanemi

Sanemi is a mess

I think he is one of the only pillars that visibly goes through all stages of grief to the most extreme extent.

Sanemi had the unfortunate privilege of being there, he witnessed the whole thing

He’s a screamer, we know this, but it amplifies tenfold when he is in absolute anguish.

Don’t touch him, don’t talk to him, don’t go near him, and absolutely do not take you from his arms. In his mind the damage is already irreversible, why do they need to touch you?

When he has to let you go, his tears turn to anger

“Don’t fucking touch me, don’t touch them.”  he was seething, if looks could kill, everyone within a fifteen foot radius would drop dead by now. “M-master Shinazugawa…” his grip on you was bruising, he needed to keep you warm. Your hands were already ice cold in his, it made his heart ache. “You fucking heard me, back off.” They stepped away, moving towards the other kakushi that had been summoned. Despite the distance, Sanemi still heard them speak. “Send word to Lady Kocho and Master Ubuyashiki. We’ll need to prepare a spot for burial.” Sanemi clung to your lifeless form tighter, silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

Sanemi wouldn’t allow anyone to talk to him — never mind bring you up in his presence.

Each morning and each night was spent visiting you

He’d talk nonstop about anything and everything, as if you’d actually be able to respond to a single thing he said. He had fallen into a state of unease. As if nothing around him was actually real.

It wasn’t denial, he had been there, he had seen and felt it. It was more so that he felt as if he were in a nightmare. Sooner or later he’d wake up to you by his side.

Naturally though, that would never happen. Not in this life time.

The sun was setting, he sat cross legged on the ground before the engraved stone. He brought the jug of sake to his lips, taking a long swig. Over the last few months, he began coping with everything by drinking. He knew you’d be yelling at him for it, all the while asking him to share. So after each sip, he poured a bit out for you. He repeated those motions until the jug was empty. “I hope you’re okay, wherever you are.” It was silent around him, nothing but crickets beginning their nightly symphony. “I hope you’re waiting for me. Though I don’t think I’ll keep you waiting for much longer…”

Gyomei

He’s the most stable out of all of them

Tears are natural for Gyomei in general, so of course they’d fall for you when he received the news.

Gyomei went to see you, hands tracing the features on your face as his whispered prayers for you

Tears leaked from his eyes, he could feel the faint roughness of cuts and scars

Gyomei would wrap prayer beads around your hand, place a soft kiss on your forehead, and send you off.

He was heartbroken, but for your sake he knew he had to keep moving.

“How are you doing, master?” Genya sat beside Gyomei as the man went through his morning prayers. “I’m not well, but I can’t dwell on these feelings. They wouldn’t want me to. Y/n would want me to keep going.” Genya could see his hands begin to shake, tears starting to slip down his cheeks. “You know y/n would also want you to take time for yourself. You need time to properly grieve.” Gyomei stopped mid prayer, perhaps Genya was right. But for Gyomei, moving kept him from breaking down. It was a tough line to try and clarify. “You’re probably right. Let’s worry about that later.”

Gyomei visited you often, at least three times a day to offer prayers and offerings

Gyomei is unreadable for the most part, people struggle to know how he is handling everything

Since the incident itself, he didn’t really change. Besides crying just a little more often. But tears were a normal thing for Gyomei

Ubuyashiki is the one that pulls him aside, kindly asking him to join for tea.

“Do you need a break, Gyomei?” Kagaya’s daughter poured both men some tea. “I don’t think so, master. Do you mind pouring a third cup? For y/n.” It has become a habit for Gyomei to order an extra serving in your honor. “Of course.” Kagaya frowned slightly, his heart ached for every child he lost. “Are you handling things okay? Genya came to me worried.” Gyomei seemed a bit surprised by that, his surprise quickly turned to a small smile. “My ever observant pupil. To be truthful with you, it’s painful. Everything reminds me of them. But for their sake, for their honor, and in hopes of seeing them again one day. I must keep moving.”

#kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer imagines #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer headcanons #hashira #demon slayer angst #uzui tengen #tomioka giyu #kocho shinobu #kanroji mitsuri #iguro obanai #tokito muichiro #shinazugawa sanemi #himejima gyomei #rengoku kyojuro #Hashira Headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons

[fxckn-sxck-fr]

Okay so maybe this it too dark, but I’m taking a chance because your inbox said “disgusting or dark themes” lmao. Imagine Dick goes through with the paralyzing of his darling, and it’s successful, but something goes wrong during one of his patrols, and he gets knocked out/kidnapped or other. Now Darling is there in the apartment all by herself, with no way to move or care for herself. I imagine she’d be incredibly sick if enough time passed, like near death if she’d been allowed to just sit there for a few days or more. What would dicks reaction be once he finally made it back to her and saw her in that state? Would it be enough for him to admit what he’s doing is wrong, or would he rationalize it away?

Love your work btw!! 💗 you keep us fed!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐒 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇…

!!! GN reader, paralyzed reader, drugging, starvation, dehydration, brief blood mention (extremely non-graphic), emaciation, near death experience, brief mention of poor hygiene, feeding tube, infantilizing.

(I know this ask uses she/her pronouns, but I thought it was better to keep this consistent with the other immobilization asks, so I used the same gender neutral reader.)

(Also, how dare you think this is too dark for this blog. I eat this shit up, MM-MM-MMMMMMMMMMMMM.)

I’ve actually wondered about this before. If you’ve seen my previous asks, then you know that yandere Dick Grayson is still all in with the hero game. This already has an impact on his ability to care for you, as he sometimes comes home later than he’d want to, so it’s only natural that something like this would happen.

I can see him having to leave for a Nightwing emergency around noon-ish. You’re left sitting upright in his bed, head lulling to one side with your hands delicately poised in your lap like a porcelain doll. Now, whether you imagine him paralyzing just your legs or your arms as well, I think it’s safe to say he’d still keep you on a drug that immobilizes as a precaution, so the only movement you can manage is your eyes. With any luck, he wraps up whatever he needs to quickly and he brings you back to the living room where you can at least watch TV. You can only sit alone with your thoughts for so long before you become just as fucking insane as your captive has…

Noon turns into evening. Evening turns into night. Your stomach bubbles uncomfortably from the lack of dinner, making it difficult to fall asleep. Still no signs of Dick when you finally manage to drift off, and when you wake up the next morning, your mouth feels like sand paper. A loud gurgle emits from your stomach, your groggy mind filled with prayers that Dick got home last night and is currently preparing your breakfast in the kitchen, but those holes slowly diminish as the hours tick by, the pain in your stomach becoming almost unbearable.

From the corner of your eye, you can see your IV drip practically empty. This confirms the unfortunate reality that Dick has yet to return; otherwise, he’d take the needle out of your arm, or at the very least, replaced the bag. You’re still unable to move with the drug still in your blood stream, but as soon as it wears off, you plan to use the limited control you have over your body to at least try and inchworm your way out of here… or even just to the kitchen.

By the time you approach the 24-hour mark of Dick’s sudden departure, you feel like you’re agonizingly rotting away. Dehydration is making your mind fuzzy, but before you’re granted the release of passing out, starvation sharply pulls your consciousness back in. This a persistent cycle that taunts you through the day, midnight providing a small reprieve as your mind finally shuts down before the torture begins again in the morning.

The drug has long left your system, allowing you to try and generate some moisture in your mouth. You viscously gnaw at the inside of your cheeks, swallowing the chunks of skin you manage to tear off and almost crying in relief when you’re blessed with the flavor of blood. It’s not much, as you doubt you can survive off this alone, but it would tide you over long enough until Dick showed up, right?

… He’s on his way home… right?

It’s been 3 whole days. You’re fighting a losing battle between a mouth filled with sand and a stomach trying to digest itself. Through your bleary vision, you can vaguely make out the outline of bones in your arms, the twist of the radius and ulna prominently bulging through your skin. Drifting between two planes of consciousness, you tried to focus on anything other than your eminent demise, like memories before this never-ending hell or the smell of your own horrendous odor.

This is it. This is how you die. If you didn’t feel like your brain was slowly turning into mud, you might’ve been more afraid. But fortunately for you, death seemed to be kind enough to numb your thoughts entirely, allowing you to pass on with serenity rather than terror. This may have been the most merciful thing the universe has been towards you in the past several months. After weeks of being a captive in your own body, you’re finally being relieved of this nightmare…

… But, of course, you should’ve known you would never be granted the privilege of pity.

Dick is greeted with the horrifying sight of you on death’s doorstep by the time he stumbles into his room. After making sure you’re still alive — and almost sobbing from relief when he feels a feint pulse — he quickly prepares an IV bag of actual sustainable fluids to replace the empty one filled with just the drug. Hopefully, it would be enough to stabilize your electrolyte levels until he can put you on a feeding tube.

Now, remember that Dick isn’t an idiot; he does his research before doing any sort of medical procedure on you, and it helps that he already has some preexisting knowledge thanks to his field of work. But, again, since he isn’t an idiot, he knows that there’s only so much he can do as one guy, and a condition like this requires a team of professionals who can monitor your vitals and nutrient levels. There’s a chance he may actually take you to Gotham, either to Leslie’s Thompkin’s clinic or even the Batcave depending on what’s closer. I think it’s possible that Leslie and/or Bruce are already aware of your paralysis, albeit not the true story behind it. Dick wouldn’t have to explain himself much other than the reason he couldn’t take care of you for the past couple of days.

However, after you’re fully stabilized, it would only be a matter of time before someone talks to Dick about what’s good for you. Having your only caretaker be a vigilante who can’t always be there for you is a huge risk to your safety. Leslie, and/or Bruce would try to convince him to move you into the manor, where Alfred could keep an eye on you, but Dick would only be enraged at the suggestion. He almost just lost you, and now they want to take you away from him?! He’s the only one who can take care of you because he knows what’s good for you!!

(The cracks in Dick’s carefully crafted façade are showing… Leslie and/or Bruce can only hope this is just him being overwhelmed from all that’s happened.)

Anyways. One way or another, you find yourself waking up to the familiar sight of Dick’s ceiling. The stinging sensation of a feeding tube irritates your nostril, and you feel like you’ve just been hit by a steamroller. Dick immediately takes to your side the moment he realizes you’re awake, desperately clutching your hand (which you can’t feel, cuz… y’know… paralysis) as he sobs into the bony crook of your neck. He’s practically in hysterics; the way he gasps for air between agonizing wails makes you distantly worry he’s gonna pass out on your weak form.

So, what would be Dick’s takeaway from this? Does he finally recognize how fucked up it is to paralyze someone so he can take care of them easier? Well… no. Not at all. In fact, as soon as he’s allowed himself to grieve over the fact you almost fucking died, he realizes that this is actually perfect for him. You’re in a critical state and he needs to nurse you back to health? He absolutely adores coddling you to the extreme, so this is like living the dream. Really, the only thing he regrets is not putting you on a more sustainable drug before he left (though it’s not like he could foresee his initial Nightwing emergency going south like that. But it’s okay, cuz now he knows to take precautions!!).

Your recovery would take months, but things return to normal very quickly… much to your anguish.

#❥ CALL INCOMING: DO YOU LIKE SCARY MOVIES? #❥ TW: YANDERE #❥ YANDERE CHARACTER #❥ PLATONIC YANDERE #❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON #❥ YANDERE DICK GRAYSON X READER #❥ GN READER

[dreamwritesimagines]

Enamored [40] - Newlyweds

A.N: Thank you so much for your amazing feedback my loves, you’re amazing!❤ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please let me know what you think, thank you! ❤ And as always, thank you @theskytraveler for helping me with the chapter and the story❤

Summary: Coming back home doesn’t have to change everything.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, mentions of sex, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of pregnancy.

Word Count: 5400

Series Masterlist

Coming back to London had its advantages and disadvantages.

Advantages were that apparently you were to be an aunt now, so being there made it possible for you to help Cecily prepare for the baby. You were beyond excited, and had already bought so many toys and clothes for the baby, and you even had a couple of cribs you had your eye on.

The disadvantage was that…

Well, coming back to London meant more responsibilities and you would much rather enjoy your newly found marital bliss.

You and Anthony had been quite busy the whole night and after you had woken up in the morning, even the thought was more than enough to send a fire over your face. You had missed breakfast and Anthony was more than alright with missing the whole noon, you knew it would have been a great disrespect to Lady Bridgerton so you had insisted you two had to leave your room, though it was the last thing you wanted.

Anthony grasped at your arm to turn your around and press you back to the wall before you could turn the corner in the hallway, making you giggle.

“Mon amour!” you chided him with a smile but wrapped your arms around his neck when he dipped his head to pull you into a kiss, pressing your body against his.

“Let’s go back to the bedroom.”

“Your whole family is waiting!” you whispered, your eyes fluttering close as his lips slipped down to your neck but you forced yourself to focus before slipping out of his grasp, grinning wide as you turned around to look at him.

“Y/N—”

“We are expected, come on,” you said and walked to the drawing room with him following you with a tortured sigh, making you repress a laugh. When you stepped into the drawing room, half of the family was missing, but it wasn’t that surprising to you as you had learned; Hyacinth and Gregory liked to play in the yard while Francesca tended to study in her room early in the day. Lady Bridgerton on the other hand wasn’t in the room, which made you look around, no doubt her absence catching Anthony’s attention as well.

“Where’s mother?” he asked and Eloise smiled at you two.

“Good morning to you too, we’re very glad you decided to bless us with your presence,” she said, pulling her feet off the sofa so that you could fling yourself next to her. “She is getting ready, she has an appointment.”

“An appointment?” you asked and Benedict nodded.

“Mm hm.”

“With who?”

“She wants to be the one to tell you,” Colin answered and Anthony hummed, then walked to you to grab you by the wrist to pull you up so that you could sit next to him on the other sofa instead of Eloise, making her groan.

“Anthony, don’t you have things to do?” she asked, almost cross. “I wish to spend time with my friend and you’ve taken over all her free time like the selfish inconsiderate man you are.”

Anthony didn’t even seem offended as he pulled you closer to himself, making your cheeks burn but you tried to cover it.

“I mean honestly, don’t you get bored in that room all the time with him?” Eloise asked and you bit down on your lips to hide your smile, then shook your head.

“No.”

“Unbelievable,” Eloise said, ignoring the way Benedict and Colin were grinning. “First Cece, now you. What on earth do married couples do all the time in their room?”

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to control your expression.

“I’d love to tell you Eloise, but I’m afraid my English isn’t that good.”

“You’re talking to me in English right now!”

“Am I though?” you asked airily in French while Anthony chuckled beside you, sneaking an arm around your waist to pull you closer as if he couldn’t bear not touching you in some way.

“Speaking of nauseating married couples,” Eloise said with a sigh. “Do I have to get Cece a baby gift as well? I don’t know what one gets for a baby.”

“I don’t even think Cece needs to get the baby anything at this point let alone you,” Anthony commented. “Y/N monopolized that whole front.”

“I’m excited for my nephew, is that a crime?”

“Elias says it’s a girl.”

“Elias can say whatever he wants and be mistaken as always, it’s a boy,” you stated. “You’ll see.”

“Whether it’s a boy or a girl, they’re still months away from being born,” Benedict said and you shrugged your shoulders.

“It’s good to be prepared,” you defended yourself as Lady Bridgerton entered the room and smiled at you.

“Oh you two are here!”

“Hello mother.”

“Good morning!”

“Where are you going?” Anthony asked and she stole a look at Benedict.

“You haven’t told them yet, have you?”

“No, we left it to you as you asked.”

“Told us what?” you asked and Lady Bridgerton gave you and Anthony a look that you could only describe as motherly.

“Well,” she said. “While you were in Aubrey Hall, I came up with an idea and presented it to the rest of the family and they all agreed.”

Anthony frowned slightly while you looked between them.

“I think it’s better if we move out to another house to give you two some…privacy to start your own family,” she said as your jaw dropped and Anthony raised his brows in surprise. “I’ve already found a wonderful place, I’m going to meet the owner for the last details.”

“What?” you exclaimed. “No you—you don’t have to do that at all!”

“We even picked our rooms Y/N,” Eloise said and you shook your head.

“No but I really like it when all of us are here, really—and it’s your home!” you protested and Lady Bridgerton smiled at you.

“And it’s both of yours now,” she said. “I must leave before I’m late, but we will all talk of it when I come back, alright?”

“But…” you heaved a sigh as she walked out of the room and you motioned at Eloise. “Why?”

“Well, you’ve heard her. Starting your own family, your own privacy and all that, and I really like my new room.”

You shot Anthony a look, expecting him to protest as well but he didn’t even think twice before turning to his siblings.

“Well, I trust you’ve all made the best decision for yourselves.”

“Anthony!”

“Do you remember where the door is or should I show it to you?”

You gasped and elbowed him while Benedict scoffed a laugh.

“We’re not moving at this second you do realize that?”

“You could still go and check the house again, all of you.”

“Are you sure you want to move out?” you asked them and Anthony cleared his throat.

“They’re sure love.”

“You don’t have to.”

“They really do,” he deadpanned and you shot him a look before turning to Eloise.

“But how will we see each other?”

“Back in Aubrey Hall when the season is over,” Anthony answered in her behalf and Colin pointed outside.

“The house mother is buying is five minutes away from here Anthony.”

You let out a relieved breath and Anthony frowned.

“Five minutes?” he repeated. “Just that? Surely there are houses further away.”

“Thank God,” you said, pressing a hand over your chest. “You are going to be very close, that’s wonderful! Then we’re expecting all of you for breakfast—”

“Once a month.”

“Every day!”

“And no one has to be in any rush, make sure to take your time—”

“I will pay the first person who moves out,” Anthony said and you elbowed him again.

“Don’t mind him, he’s in shock because of the news.”

Eloise tilted her head.

“You know what, maybe I will spend the rest of the season here,” she said, shooting Anthony a smug grin while he narrowed his eyes at her. “It could be fun.”

“Mother would miss you.” Anthony said and she shrugged her shoulders.

“I would visit her every day.”

“You know how she is, you can’t stay the night. She’d be worried.”

“Are you saying that I, Eloise Bridgerton, cannot stay the night at Bridgerton House?”

Anthony glared at her. “Stop that.”

“No.”

“You’re always welcome Eloise—all of you, and please know that even if you move out, you can always come and stay as long as you wish.” you motioned at the siblings, ignoring the way Anthony was shaking his head, mouthing “Don’t.”

“Maybe in my absence you can put all the wedding gifts and flowers and letters into my room,” Colin said, “I barely remember what the west drawing room used to look like.”

“I will get to them,” you said. “I’ve started with the flowers but then got distracted the other day. One of the cards is missing.”

“From the flowers?”

“Yeah,” you said. “It must have dropped on the way or something. Such a shame too, it’s a lovely bouquet.”

Eloise snapped her fingers. “Sending flowers is a good idea.”

“I don’t think babies like flowers, Eloise.”

“Oh who cares about the baby, Cece loves flowers,” Eloise said. “That being said, we’re meeting her and Elias at the park today right?”

“Yeah, around the afternoon.”

“Me and Cece will meet earlier though,” you mused. “Are you sure you don’t want to join?”

“I’m absolutely sure,” Eloise said and pulled you by the arm, making Anthony frown and you stood up.

“Where are we going?”

“Outside, away from these three,” Eloise said as she steered you to the door, making you let out a laugh and you both walked through the door to the hallway, then started descending the stairs.

“So when will you tell me?”

“What?”

“What happens in the bedroom when you’re married,” she said, making you bite down on a smile and you took a deep breath.

“I will tell you...”

“Thank God!”

“When you fall in love,” you finished your sentence and she shot you a look.

“That will never happen.”

“Does this silly aversion to love run in your family?” you asked as you got to the foyer. “Anthony used to say the same thing.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure he’s the biggest advocate of love now, only in second to you,” she said, making a face. “In any case I’m smarter than him, that’s why I will never fall in love.”

“You know, Lucie has a theory that the people who say they would never fall in love always fall the hardest.”

“That’s not how it works.”

“Ask Anthony if you don’t believe me, I think he has some opinions on how it works.”

“The day I ask Anthony about his opinions is the day I—”

“My lady?”

Both you and Eloise turned around and you smiled at the housekeeper. Mrs. Burchett, as you had been introduced the night you and Anthony had gotten back from the museum. You hadn’t exactly had the chance to talk to her since then, and you would be lying if you said you had even tried to do so, after your conversation with the second housekeeper in Aubrey Hall.

“Mrs. Burchett,” you said. “Hello.”

“May I have a word when you’re available?”

“Um…sure, right now!” you said and turned to Eloise. “I’ll be in the garden in a moment.”

Eloise shrugged her shoulders and walked away from you to the garden while you turned to Mrs. Burchett.

“How are you Mrs. Burchett?”

“I’m well my lady, thank you. How about you?”

“I’m fine!” you said. “I love sunny days a lot. How can I help you?”

“I just wanted to ask what you would like to know of the house routine,” she said. “So that we can change it to fit your standards before Dowager Viscountess moves out? It would make the transition easier maybe?”

You blinked a couple of times, feeling quite confused.

“Oh,” you said after a beat. “You must excuse my surprise Mrs. Burchett, I just— your associate and I couldn’t get along well back in Aubrey Hall so it’s quite shocking.”

She shot you a look.

“Mrs. Weston?”

“Yes.”

“She tends to be a bit…” she thought for a second. “Cross, if you will. But not to worry my lady, she’s only the housekeeper of Aubrey Hall when I’m not there. Most of the time you will be contacting the staff through me.”

You couldn’t help but beam at that.

“This is a relief!” you said, “I have some changes in mind to be honest, but before I get into them I’d like to have some idea about the staff and the finances of the house. Is it possible that I could get the ledgers of the household if you have them?”

“We keep a very detailed account of them,” she said. “I can bring them to you tomorrow, along with the files of the staff.”

“That’d be wonderful,” you said. “I really appreciate it.”

“Anything else?”

“I will prepare you a list of flowers I like,” you said, “Different ones for the drawing rooms, and the foyer, and the bedrooms.”

“Of course my lady.”

“Thank you,” you said and she curtsied, then walked away from you. You rocked back and forth on your feet, still smiling, and took a deep breath.

“This will be nice,” you muttered to yourself and fixed your hair, then walked out of the house to join Eloise in the garden.

                                              *

You loved shopping and you knew that everyone knew that about you, but shopping for babies was something you didn’t do often, the last time being when you were in Paris and were looking for gifts for your friend Marie’s baby.

You held the small plush bunny over Cecily’s stomach and hummed.

“No, I don’t think the baby likes it.”

“Y/N, I’m not even showing yet.”

“So?” you asked. “If my nephew is anything like me, he will form very strong opinions on what is being gifted to him very early on.”

“Your nephew?” Cecily asked with a laugh. “Elias says it’s a girl.”

“It’s a boy,” you said. “And he will be great friends with my and Anthony’s son.”

“Your and…”

“Our firstborn will be a boy too,” you muttered and grabbed a toy carriage before heaving a sigh and putting it down.

“And how do you know that?”

“I just have a feeling.”

“Is there anything you don’t have a feeling about?”

You thought for a moment, then shook your head. “I don’t think so, no,” you said. “And I’m telling you, strong opinions run in the family. My mother used to tell me that while she was pregnant with me, she was inspecting an orange blanket her friend made for her baby, trying to decide whether she should get it done for me as well and I kicked right at that second. And guess what? I still don’t like orange blankets.”

Cecily repressed a laugh and stole a look at you.

“Never change, will you?”

“Why would I change?” you asked as you inspected a bear toy, then put it down to grin at her. “But Cece, are you very excited? I can’t wait until he’s here! Do you have any ideas for a name? I actually thought about it the other day, I have so many ideas!”

“The baby won’t be here anytime soon Y/N,” she said with a laugh. “It’s a bit too early to pick names, we don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re going to wait until the birth to pick a name?”

“To repeat, we don’t know—”

“We know.”

“We don’t know for sure.”

You heaved a sigh. “Either way, I insist that you think about what I told you,” you said. “I understand that cribs here are nice, but my friend Marie had a crib made for her baby upon request at this shop in Paris, and it was wonderful!”

“I’m not having a crib brought in here from Paris.”

“But you didn’t even think about it!”

She tilted her head at you. “How about we save that one for your baby?” she asked. “I’m sure you and Anthony will have your own soon.”

A fire spread over your face and you lowered your head to pretend to be busy with the elephant toy, trying to hide the smile threatening to pull at your lips.

“I can only hope so,” you managed to murmur, your heart beat speeding up with hope. The mere thought of having a baby with Anthony was more than enough to send sparks of happiness through your system but you cleared your throat.

“But who knows when these things happen,” you added in a haste. “Until then, I will be more than happy to be the best aunt to my nephew who if I may add, must have a crib from Paris.”

“That’s not happening.”

“But what if he dislikes the cribs here?”

“I’m sure he won’t considering he won’t have anything to compare it with,” she said. “Can we leave this shop now? There’s another one nearby and I haven’t seen anything that caught my interest.”

“Of course,” you said and linked your arm with hers, then walked out of the shop into the street. She squeezed at your arm.

“So the whole family is moving to another place?”

“I haven’t got the chance to see it yet,” you said. “But Eloise says it’s very beautiful. I tried to tell them they did not have to but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Well, that’s very thoughtful of Lady Bridgerton,” she said. “They are quite the crowd.”

“But that’s not very common,” you said and heaved a sigh. “I don’t know Cece. I can’t help but feel a bit guilty about this.”

“You have no reason to,” she said. “I’m sure she wouldn’t have done such a thing if she didn’t want to.”

“I mean if I knew, I would have suggested that we would move, not them.”

Cecily scoffed.

“You and Anthony are the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton now,” she reminded you. “You sort of have to reside in Bridgerton House.”

“I just don’t want them to resent me,” you said. “Lady Bridgerton has done so much for me and Anthony to come together and she supported our courtship, so I feel almost ungrateful.”

“It’s her choice,” she told you. “You didn’t even offer such a thing.”

“I would never!”

“See?” she said. “Besides, Anthony sounds very content with the situation.”

“He’s too content,” you corrected her. “He’s pleased with the situation to the point of impropriety.”

“Oh I can’t imagine why,” Cecily teased you and you covered your face for a moment, almost abashed.

“Well— he—” you stammered, lowering your hand. “He must still talk to Lady Bridgerton on the matter, I’ll ask him to do so.”

“Something tells me he won’t try very hard to change her mind.”

“If he tries at all,” you said. “But he must, this evening. And while he’s doing that, I can at least start on writing my thank you letters for the gifts and flowers. I stepped inside, then left in a minute because I got overwhelmed, I literally cannot see the room because it’s so full of flowers and gifts. I only hope they didn’t lose any more cards.”

“What cards?”

“One of the flower bouquets didn’t have a card,” you said. “It’s such a shame too, it’s a bouquet of bluebells.”

“Bluebells?”

“I love bluebells, they were my mother’s favorite,” you said and she hummed.

“I’m sure it’s there somewhere.”

“It’ll take me some time to send all those letters.”

“It’ll take you even more time if you try to do it in the evenings,” she said like a melody. “I’m sure you and Anthony enjoy doing things other than replying to letters at night.”

“Cece!” you whispered, unable to stop the giggle climbing up your throat and she wiggled her brows.

“What?” she asked. “You two have lost the track of time during your honeymoon and came back eleven days later, that says something. So now I must have the details, how was your honeymoon really?”

“It was…” you trailed off, that burning on your cheeks growing hotter and hotter. “It has been beyond anything I could’ve dreamed of.”

“And now that you’re back?”

“Well…” you trailed off, nibbling on your lip. “Even if I know that we have duties and such, our—our nights are quite busy.”

“Oh are they?”

“And our mornings too,” you admitted, unable to stop the smile on your face. “And um…just yesterday Anthony pulled me into his study just as I was walking past it and the other day at the library—” you paused and cleared your throat. “Do you think I should ask Aunt Lavinia about it?”

“About what?”

“Whether it’s normal that I…that I like it this much?” you asked in a whisper and she let out a clear laugh.

“It’s very normal.”

“But I can’t even focus on anything else!”

She heaved a dramatic sigh.

“And I can’t see you at all now that you’re married,” she mimicked you with a French accent, making you gasp as your jaw dropped.. “Why are we spending less time together? I thought we were best friends, Anthony can’t keep you all to himself!”

“In my defense, I was not aware that you were doing—” you stopped talking and made a face. “Ugh, you were doing that with my brother, gross!”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Y/N.”

“I don’t even want to think about it,” you grumbled. “But please do accept my biggest apologies for interrupting you quite often.”

“All forgiven,” she waved a hand in the air before she tilted her head. “Wait, did you just say you did that at the library?”

“We were at the very far back of the library!” you motioned with your hands in a haste, making her let out a laugh before she pulled you to the next shop.

“Details,” she said. “Now.”

                                        *

Your trip to the shops had taken almost two hours before you and Cecily had decided it was time to go to the park. Luckily, there was a play that would be performed around the time you had arrived, as Penelope and Eloise had informed you, but Anthony and Elias were nowhere to be seen so you and Cecily had made your way to the opening where the play would take place, then took your seats.

“This brings back the memories,” Cecily told you and you giggled, then gasped when you saw Jane and Mr. Sinclair sitting close to the stage, side by side.

“Cece, do you see that?” you whispered and she turned her head, then scoffed a laugh.

“Well I bet you’re relieved you won’t be the main subject of his poems soon.”

“And also because they’re to be in love and very happy!” you whispered and turned when someone—

Anthony, took the seat beside yours.

“Hello mon amour!”

“My love,” he said and pressed a kiss on the back of your hand. “Hello Cece.”

“Anthony. Any chance you have seen my husband?”

“He’s on his way, he got stopped by Audley. He wanted to congratulate him for the baby.”

Cecily nodded and turned in her seat to talk to the Penelope while you elbowed Anthony, then nodded towards Jane and Mr. Sinclair.

“Anthony, look!”

“What am I looking at darling?”

“Jane and Mr. Sinclair!” you said. “I introduced them remember? And they seem to be very much in love already!”

“That’s good news at least.”

“And it’s all because I knew they would make such a lovely couple,” you said with your nose in the air, then fixed your hair in an exaggerated manner, “And I made sure they talked to each other on our engagement ball and that he asked her for a dance! Are you very proud of me?”

A smile warmed his face and a fond light flashed in his dark eyes as he tilted his head, his whole attention is on you.

“I am,” he said. “I always am.”

You could feel your heartbeat getting faster but before you could say anything, Elias flung himself on the seat beside Cecily’s.

“Dear God Audley can talk when he wants to,” he murmured. “Hello Chérie.”

“Hello Elias!”

“And hello my angel,” Elias entwined his fingers with Cecily before he touched her stomach. “How are you and my daughter?”

“Son,” you said, leaning forward so that he could see you better. “It’s going to be a boy, Elias.”

“It’s a girl and she’s going to take after her amazing mother and the world will be a better place for it,” Elias said. “That being said, Cece my angel, I think our daughter’s crib—”

“Your son’s crib.”

“Our daughter’s crib –you keep your mouth shut Y/N— should be made of oak tree because I asked around today, and everyone agrees it’s the best option.”

“To repeat, we have months until the baby gets here,” Cecily said. “Just in case you two have forgotten, a baby takes nine months to arrive.”

“Well I’m sure my daughter—”

“Son.”

“Chérie I swear to God…”

“How do you know it’s going to be a boy?” Anthony asked and you shrugged your shoulders.

“The same way I knew my friend Marie was having a boy and my other friend Josie was having a girl.”

Anthony blinked a couple of times. “…Are you a witch or something?”

You pulled your brows together. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“What?”

“People used to burn witches here in London?”

Elias put his hands over Cecily’s stomach as if trying to protect it. “Can you not talk about violence near my baby please?”

“The baby doesn’t have ears yet, Elias.” Cecily said helpfully and Elias shook his head.

“She will be afraid to visit those two in their violent home if they keep going like this Cece.”

“Violent?” You and Anthony asked at the same time and Elias shrugged his shoulders.

“Look at what you’re talking about. Burning witches.”

“It would explain a lot of things if you were a witch,” Anthony muttered more to himself and you scoffed.

“You don’t even believe in that.”

“Well no of course not, but there must be a reason why you end up being right all the time even in things that seem impossible to know.”

��The reason is that—” you were cut off when the play started and you stole a look at the stage, then leaned in closer to whisper into his ear. “The reason is that everyone must listen to me at all times, especially you. Considering I’m right all the time when it comes to future, and you rarely are.”

That fond smile curled his lips again and you turned your head to watch the play but Anthony seemed to have other plans. Not even a minute had passed that he touched your jawbone with his finger, making you turn your head to look up at him. A fire spread over your cheeks as you became painfully aware of just how many people had seen him do that, even though you were married, it was still—

You were still in public, and anything other than walking together with maybe you holding his arm was frowned upon.

He wasn’t supposed to touch you like that, but somehow you couldn’t even bring yourself to care what others would think.

“Aren’t you forgetting the one time I was right about what would happen in the future though?”

You blinked up at him a couple of times, trying to focus.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” he said with a small smirk. “Remind me, what did you ask me the first time you and I were alone in my study?”

You pulled your brows together, straining your mind until the thought hit you and a smile lit up your face before you looked up at the sky and heaved a sigh, as if trying to remember.

“I asked you if my husband would love me.”

“And?”

“And you said…” you trailed off. “You said, ‘how could he not?’.”

“There you go.”

You nibbled on your lip, batting your lashes up at him.

“And does my husband love me?” you taunted him and he ran a knuckle over the back of your hand, awakening goosebumps on your arm. He leaned in to nuzzle into your hair, inhaling your scent before he lowered his head so that you could hear his low murmur.

“Your husband, my sweeting,” his breath caressed the shell of your ear and that familiar throb right between your legs came back, making you swallow thickly. “Is so in love with you that he can’t think of anything else but you.”

This—

This was very inappropriate to even think of in public.

You could feel the excitement rushing through you and you bit inside your cheek hard enough to hurt in hopes of it helping you focus, but it was impossible. You had never been able to focus on anything but Anthony even before you were married, and now that you were married, now that you knew just how good he could make you feel to the point of never ending bliss laced with pleasure, even attempting to pay attention to anything but him was out of the question.

You blinked up at him as he pulled back, the anticipation already making you breathless and his dark eyes slipped to your lips before snapping up to your eyes again.

“Um, can—” you stammered and stole a look at the stage before turning to him again, his gaze almost like a magnet to yours as you squirmed in your seat. “Can we go home after the play is over please?”

A mischievous smirk pulled at his lips and he raised his brows as if he was amused, then tapped your wrist.

“Come on, we’re leaving.”

“Now?” you whispered. “But the play—”

“I couldn’t care less about the play,” he nearly growled and stood up, pulling you by the wrist so that you could stand up with him, making Cecily and Elias turn their heads.

“What are you—?”

“We’ll see you two later,” Anthony said without so much as a pause and pulled you with him so that you could walk beside him, a giggle escaping from you as you tried to keep up with his long strides.

“Are we going home now?”

“Home is half an hour away darling, I’m not waiting that long.”

You pulled your brows together. “Oh,” you said, looking around. “Then I don’t understand I’m afraid. Where are we going?”

“The carriage.”

“But where will the carriage…” you started before the thought hit you and your jaw dropped, a gasp getting caught in your throat. “Anthony surely you’re jesting!”

“I’m not.”

“But that’s not—we can’t—” you protested, even the thought of doing what he suggested sending a fire all over your face despite the anticipation making your heartbeat speed up. “What if someone sees?”

“It’s a close carriage with curtains my siren, no one will see.”

“But what will you tell the coachman?”

“That we want a trip around the city and he will not stop the horses until we tell him to.”

“But—” you slowed down your steps as soon as you saw your carriage before you halted to a stop, making him stop as well. He turned around to shoot you a smirk before stepping closer to you, curling a finger under your chin so that you could look at him better.

“Yes?”

“What if,” you swallowed thickly, gazing up into his dark eyes. “What if someone hears?”

“Oh don’t worry sweeting,” he said with a small smirk and winked at you. “I can keep you quiet.”

You let out a giggle and bit on your lip, then nodded before he pulled you towards the carriage.

“We want a trip around the city, I’ll tell you when we’ll get back,” he told the coachman as he opened the door for you and held out his hand.

“In you go my love.”

You took his hand and went into the carriage with him following you, trying your hardest to contain the excited giggle threatening to spill from your lips. He slammed the door close and the carriage started moving at the same time he pulled you to his lap, making you squeal.

“This is highly inappropriate!” you said through giggles and he pulled you into a kiss before his lips went down to your neck, your eyes fluttering close as he dragged his fingertips under your silk skirts, his touch awakening fire on your bare legs.

“I’ve told you before my love,” he muttered to your neck, making you let out a breath. “I’m good with inappropriate.”

Chapter 41

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #bridgerton #bridgerton x reader #regency fic

[helicxx]

wrightworth !!

since it's a fine november noon, i've decided to bless you all with my paragraph on why wrightworth is canon ! wrightworth is literally canon. THERE WAS 15+ YEARS OF PINING PLUS PHOENIX WENT TO LAW SCHOOL FOR EDGEWORTH. “oh, my ex college girlfriend framed me for murder?? i’ll let that slide. OH MY GOD MY CHILDHOOD FRIEND THAT I HAVEN’T SEEN SINCE KINDERGARTEN IS A LAWYER??? I’M SWITCHING MAJORS.” their dynamic fits every single possible ao3 tag. enemies to lovers? childhood friends? red and blue? pining? angst? they got you covered. PLUS THE UNNECESSARY FEELINGS LINE PLUS THE ONE-SIDED HATE LINE. oh and did i mention the matching wedding ring AND the anniversary wine AND the matching perfumes??????? i mentioned rivalries, right??? WE CAN’T FORGET ABOUT THE “love creates rivalries” LINE SAID BY….. you guessed it….. PHOENIX. PHOENIX BECAME A LAWYER FOR THE SOLE PURPOSE OF SEEING EDGEWORTH AGAIN EVEN THOUGH HE ONLY KNEW HIM FOR A FEW MONTHS IN FUCKING ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. BOTH OF THEM GRIEVING SO HARD WHEN THEY THINK THE OTHER IS DEAD THAT NEITHER CAN HANDLE HEARING EACH OTHER’S NAMES. MILES FLEW HALFWAY ACROSS THE EARTH THE MOMENT HE FOUND OUT PHOENIX GOT HURT. cmon man. WRIGHTWORTH IS CANON THEY’RE LITERALLY SO GAY IN COURT LIKE YOUR HONOR!!!! I THINK THEY’RE HOMO!!!! the article written in issue #72 of an official uk nintendo magazine was about the best fictional couples, and wrightworth was on that list. the writers of ace attorney say that edgeworth isn't interested in women, and it’s confirmed that both edgeworth and phoenix find each other attractive. THE OFFICIAL ACE ATTORNEY FACEBOOK PAGE POSTED WRIGHTWORTH ART ON VALENTINES DAY!! i could go on and on about this but you probably hate me enough by now. in conclusion, WRIGHTWORTH IS CANON!!!!! :3

#wrightworth #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #teehee #rants go wild fr... #apologies in advance to my irls and mooties who had to see this beforehand

[maniacalmole]

               When Aziraphale finally came back, Crowley didn’t really much care what he was saying, or mumbling, or choking out, but instead was watching him like a hawk for signs of what he really meant, like he always had, and it was so familiar an action that he almost didn’t even care what he found, he was just so blessed glad to be able to do it again, only what he did find was that Aziraphale was sagging under a despair and a relief so profound that eventually Crowley was satisfied enough to say, “I’m tired. Need a good night’s rest. Let’s pick this back up in the morning.”

               And Aziraphale had looked both petrified and grateful, so Crowley had leaned back on the bookshop sofa and gone to sleep. Which wasn’t really a surprise, given that he hadn’t exactly been sleeping well lately, but what had surprised him was that in the morning he’d seen Aziraphale had fallen asleep, too, something he’d hardly seen in their millennia of knowing each other. So he supposed they’d both needed it.

               Which was why, when they both woke up around noon, Crowley did something the bookshop had never seen in its decades of existence, because normally they had so many places they wanted to go together, but now all they really wanted to do was stay there, and so he ordered takeaway.

               And so there they were, Crowley sat on the sofa and Aziraphale in an armchair, Chinese takeaway boxes scattered on a hastily cleared-of-books end table, with Crowley shoveling noodles into his mouth because he hadn’t realized he’d been so hungry. And Aziraphale was holding one dumpling between a pair of chopsticks, looking like a statue.

               “So—” Crowley said, with difficulty around the noodles—how had the angel always managed to talk and eat at the same time, all while looking so prim?—and he’d never gotten the hang of chopsticks. Which, all right, he’d lived in China for a few centuries over the ages, but he’d eaten far less often than humans did, so it still wasn’t all that shameful. “So, what’s next, then?”

               “Rather a lot, I’m afraid.” Aziraphale glanced at him when he said it, did that little twitch of an eyebrow he couldn’t help doing sometimes, even when he was squashing everything down inside him, like now, then looked away.

               Crowley shoveled more noodles into his mouth. Aziraphale took the history of the world’s smallest bite of his dumpling. Crowley frowned.

               “And—er—”

               “I wish I could’ve come back to you with it all being finished,” Aziraphale said sadly. “‘Done, I solved it’. Well, I’m afraid I wasn’t all that useful.”

               “From what you told me last night, you did loads.” Crowley stared at the dumpling. “Aren’t you hungry?”

               “Oh.” Aziraphale grimaced at his chopsticks. “Er. Haven’t really eaten much. I don’t want—uh—don’t want to upset my stomach. You know how it is.”

               Crowley just frowned. He took another gargantuan bite. Too big, really. It was all he could do to chew.

               “The last thing I wanted to do was to come back to you with more problems,” Aziraphale said wretchedly. “But they just kept getting larger and larger, and eventually it was now or never—and I’m just—I’m just so useless—”

               Crowley chewed faster. He really shouldn’t have eaten so much at once. He could do the snake thing, he supposed, but he really didn’t think a big old reminder of how inhuman he was would be quite appropriate, right now. Still, he had things to say, or rather, to interrupt, so he swallowed painfully, made a horrible noise, and finally hissed, “Never mind that, just, let’s just, get through this day, all right? Just one day.”

               Aziraphale’s eyes went distant. Crowley wondered if they even measured days, in Heaven. They certainly tried not to think about it in Hell. Aziraphale was still holding that blessed dumpling, hardly touched, with perfect chopstick finesse, and he wished it would fall, just so the angel would have to catch it with his teeth.

               “What are you doing?”

               “What?” Aziraphale snapped halfway out of his daze.

               “What are you—why are you eating like that? Why aren’t you eating?”

               “I told you—” the angel said, sounding just peevish enough to spur him on.

               Crowley reached over and took the chopsticks from him. Aziraphale sputtered. Crowley gestured with the dumpling. “Why are you being so weird about it?”

               “I’m not—”

               “It’s eating. It’s food, look, here it comes—”

               “Crowley, are you airplaning that dumpling at me?”

               Crowley paused mid-airplaning the dumpling towards him. He said, “N-n—”

               Aziraphale gave him an icy stare.

               “‘Member before it was airplanes?” Crowley said. He smiled. He felt something bubbling up inside him, and Aziraphale, remembering himself and trying to look penitent again, was not going to stop it. “It was trains, for a while, right? ‘Here comes the train, carrying your food.’ Don’t think they ever did that with a horse and buggy, though. S’pose you’d imply the kid was eating the horse, which wasn’t really the thing.”

               “Crowley.”

               “Before they had food-carrying vehicles, how did they get kids to eat, then? Do you remember?”

               “Not really.” Aziraphale looked a bit wretched again. Crowley handed him back his chopsticks, and the angel took them. Took a bite. So small, it could hardly even be called a nibble.

               Crowley sighed and leaned back into his own seat. “Anyway, I guess none of it really makes sense. You’d have to eat the whole airplane, too.”

               They sat in silence for a while. Crowley took another bite of lo mein. Because of the chopsticks, and his fear, after everything, of what would happen if he dropped food on the bookshop floor, he’d held the whole carton up to his mouth and dumped it in, and now he really was choking, and after a few moments of terrified silence, he gave up and did the snake thing. Dislocating a human-shaped jaw really was less dramatic than when the entirety of you was just a long tube, but he knew it still looked odd. It wasn’t the reason he hardly ever ate in restaurants, but it was a small part of it. When he was done, he clenched his teeth back together and winced in the angel’s direction.

               Aziraphale was looking at him with a wistful expression that was part amused and part something else. He said, “I missed you.”

               Well. If everything before hadn’t been enough, that certainly was. Crowley said, “Do you at least want to try drinking something? Some cocoa?” and his own voice startled him with its softness.

               Aziraphale looked thoughtful. Then doubtful. “I—don’t know.”

               “C’mon. I’ll make you some. You’ve got to wake up the stomach with something, right?”

               “I suppose—”

               “I’ll make you some.” He rose from the sofa with the grace of a marionette being picked up by the strings, which was ironic, since he had never felt less like a puppet. “Be in the kitchenette. Right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

               And he left, because he knew he wouldn’t.

               When he came back, steaming warm mug in his hands, Aziraphale had put the dumpling away, but the doubt in his eyes had changed to something near hope. He took the cocoa and stared into it while Crowley sat back down. Not all the way, not leaning back into the sofa, but elbows resting on his knees, leaning forward towards the angel. Aziraphale looked at him, and Crowley tilted his head at the mug and raised his eyebrows, just a little. Aziraphale smiled, closed his eyes and, after taking a deep breath, took a sip. Then he winced.

               “Too hot?” Crowley said, brows pulling together.

               “I should have waited—”

               “Here.” Crowley reached for the mug and touched it with his index finger. Then, needing something to calibrate the temperature to, he put his other hand on top of Aziraphale’s. He performed a minor miracle.

               He let go, leaned back, and Aziraphale looked at him. He took another sip. The angel closed his eyes and, slowly, drank the whole thing.

               When he put the mug down, it was empty.

               “Mm?” Crowley said lightly.

               “Thank—” Aziraphale started to say, but he shifted, his face a pained grimace. He put a hand to his stomach, waving Crowley off with his other hand when the demon had made a noise of worry. The angel sighed and his face relaxed.

               “Did it upset your stomach?” Crowley asked. Again, that soft voice. Croaky with misuse.

               “A little.” Aziraphale looked up at him. He gave a watery smile. “It was wonderful.”

               Crowley felt his own face doing something. It was something like a grin. “Yeah,” he said. “Yeah.”

               Aziraphale looked at the remains of the Chinese takeaway. There were still several unopened boxes. With the memory of the angel passed out in his chair, eyes closed, chest moving slowly, Crowley had gone a bit overboard with the ordering. He hadn’t even known the bookshop’s address. Just told the delivery person the street name, and said, ‘Bookshop with a big black car in front of it. You can’t miss it.’ And he hadn’t. It was an iconic duo.

               “We could—” Aziraphale said thoughtfully. “We could save those for later, yes?”

               Crowley beamed at him. “Yeah. Angel?”

               “Hm?”

               “Welcome back.”

#good omens #good omens spoilers #good omens fanfic #I was imagining a reunion scene and it was all very melodramatic. and they fell asleep. and then we got to the next morning #and they ordered takeaway and then Crowley did the airplane thing and...I laughed. In spite of it all. So here you go #ficlet #my writing

[dulciechi]

Hello! I don't know if you're still interested in your COTL Witness AU, but I hope you don't mind me asking something. In one of your art piece of Witness AU, why was Narinder crying in the one depicting Apollyn offering him a flower crown? Was he reminiscing of some heavy past sorrow or frustration? Also, your "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" is very fascinating! I hope both of your fics still interest you enough to keep writing for them without weighing you down, they're just wonderful to read!

Have a good sleep and meal!

The sermon ends just a bit past noon; rays of sunlight streaming through the cathedral windows until everything in the temple is drenched in blood. Narinder remains behind the pulpit hours after the last of his worshippers have left– unwilling to return to the Veil just yet.

He doesn’t remember what he said. It doesn’t matter. Sermons are a necessary part of mass and he has performed enough of them that it’s become muscle memory. Even if his belief falters, he will never show it.

Besides, what else could be said of Death that he hasn’t said before? What else could he offer them other than a promise of a calm afterlife?

Death is inevitable.

‘…It must be inevitable, or the foundation of our Faith will weaken. Everything else may change, but not Death.’

‘Never you.’

He should be grateful. Of all his siblings’ domains, his is the one that cannot be destroyed. Even gods eventually succumb to Death.

‘What more can you want? Our followers? Our Crowns?’

‘Don’t you have enough power?’

‘If you continue to pursue this path, know that we cannot accompany you through it.’

‘You will chase your destruction alone.’

He doesn’t know how long he stays there, echoes of his siblings’ and his words tossing and turning in his mind, unable to rest. Time is easy for gods to forget, so easy to ignore when neither hunger nor sleep are there to remind them of its passing.

In the end, a familiar voice is what rouses him from his trance.

“My love?”

Narinder turns from the window to find his Witness atop the pulpit, a tiny crown of flowers in their hands.

He blinks, and feels something wet slip down his cheeks. He raises a hand and touches his face, surprised to feel tears.

Ah. So that's why they hadn’t used his proper title. They knew he would’ve panicked at the thought of being seen by anyone else in this state. Incensed.

And they both knew only one creature was daring enough to refer to him so intimately.

Apollyon holds out the crown beseechingly, an ever-loving smile on their face, “Though paltry, I hope my offering pleases you. Let it be a reminder of what you have cultivated here, and of the paradise you will create in the future.”

“Should my Witness not be somewhere else of importance? I seem to recall assigning you to a mission right after the sermon.”

He should punish them for this. Gods should never appear so weak. But Apollyon is not just any follower, not just anyone at all. Even now, he can feel nothing but devotion pulsating through their soul. And Narinder is tired of shoulds.

“My duty is to serve you,” Apollyon replies, before tilting their head and giving him a mischievous smile, “My vow is to protect you… from everything that would hurt you. Even if that something is sadness itself. I won’t leave here until you smile, or else my heart would only weigh me down in battle. And that would make it harder to succeed in the mission.”

The crown is made entirely of camellias, his flower of devotion. Though the blooms are found in abundance around his temple, Apollyon had expressly forbidden anyone to use it as a gift to anyone other than him. Despite himself, Narinder feels a smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“And what an important mission it is. So I suppose I must ensure your victory,” He lifts his finger to them, pleased at the beaming grin that he knows only he can pull from his Witness, “I accept your offering, and offer you my blessing in return.”

Without further words, Apollyon slides the flowers down his finger like a ring, then places a reverent kiss on his hand. Just like every other time they’ve done this, Narinder feels a rush of warmth run through him, their vast devotion pouring through his veins like liquid gold.

He relishes the feeling, brimming with power. It’s giddying as ever, and he doesn’t resist the temptation to do what’s next.

After all, it’s greatly amusing to see his vicious little Witness turn bright red when his lips meet the top of their head.

“Go forth, my Witness, and spread our truths to Lands Beyond,” Narinder pauses, then throws caution to the wind, “--Show the heretics the glory and cruelty of Life and Death.”

If he must choose change alone, then so be it. Even without his siblings, Narinder knows that he’ll succeed.

Especially when Apollyon mirrors his bloodthirsty grin.

“As you wish.”

—————

I wrote this on a whim after seeing your message so it’s completely unedited lol. Sorry for any clunkiness. But yeah, Narinder was (subconsciously) crying from the frustration of having his siblings not recognize the ennui and imbalance his position was bringing him, and the realization that he might have to choose between them or his desires.

Apollyon ofc, supports their god’s rights and his wrongs 🤗

Tysm for the ask <3 I’m so happy to hear you’re enjoying my fics. I’m trying to finish a drawing rn, but I hope to update “Wolf in Lamb’s Clothing” right after! :D

I still like “Courting Death”, but it’s more of a snippet collection so I can only update it whenever I get ideas.

Happy Lunar New Year! 🧧✨🐉

#cult of the lamb #cotl fanfic #narilamb #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #fandom #ask #reply #witness au #my fics

[srbachchan]

DAY 5630

Jalsa, Mumbai            July 16/17/18 ,  2023             Sun/Mon/Tue  12:00 AM

This ☝🏽 is incorrect .. I did write for Sunday and just realised that I had not pressed the POST button .. ufff .. you must have all read it by now .. about the Sunday GOJ and the Final of Wimbledon ..

and I am leaving all this 👇🏽 as it is .. for all to realise what went through .. oh dear o dear .. 

Oh Gosh ! I must be getting mad or close to it .. I was under the impression that all was done and the Blog was out .. but today Ef said they were worried that had not seen the Blog for 2 days .. !

So I just returned from work and realised it was true .. no post had gone or written for the past 2 days ..

I do not even wish to attempt to write an apology because that has been happening too often .. 

Well ..

Sunday was a bit eventful ..

The GOJ was ecstatic .. the cheer was less, but the numbers greater and greater the number of mobiles .. I am blessed ..

There was Wimbledon and the favorite playing the FINAL .. 

so now it should read 

Jalsa, Mumbai            July 17/18,  2023             Mon/Tue 12:12 AM

🪔 .. July 16 .. birthday greetings to Ef Sanjay H Aggarwal .. Ef Amit Agarwal from Ghana 🇬🇭 .. and Ef Mukesh Hirani from Chennai .. 

🪔 .. July 17 .. birthday greetings to Ef Walaa Zakariya Mohamed Ali from Egypt 🇪🇬 .. 

🪔 .. July 18 .. birthday greetings to Ef Hitesh Kshtriya from Norway 🇳🇴 .. and special one to Ef Zafar Keymaker for his constant affection .. 

.. love to all and affection and the best of joys to you .. 😘

and have just returned from work .. from a long stint at shoot .. and since I had breakfast at 10 am yesterday and worked all day without a food break, I must eat .. right now .. it is a bit late for that, but I shall eat and then get back to all .. and for this MY APOLOGIES and sincere sorries .. !!

AM BACK .. my love ad affection to all for the understanding of this mistake .. 

i seek forgiveness and hope they are forthcoming .. this above was Sunday and then after it was as if there was no interest left in the youngster .. but I remained and am here to be with all . ... 

Is the mind working us or the other way round .. it may seem to many as the advent of extreme stupidity, but truly there needs to be a study at least to discover which is which .. the mind or us the body it inhabits ..

Each day brings to us the complicated explorations of not just those that exude architectural excellence .. but of the advent of one that is artificially ruled .. AI 

The most complicated results of such are awe inspiring and frightening as well .. the take over of the human by a mind that is made by man but has a mind of its own - in time .. a relevant exercise of that famous adage .. ‘mind over matter’ .. or now mind over mind .. 

The process of the alternative , that has been so assiduously sought from time immemorial has reached a point where humanity cannot deny or readily accept its possibility  ..

Of this later perhaps .. 

the timepiece for the moment declares itself in the two arrowed tongs as a quarter to three in the A of the M  ..

what really do AM and PM stand for  :

ante meridiem “AM” stands for “ante meridiem.” The Latin phrase “ante meridiem” means “before noon” or “before midday.” That's why, in the 12-hour system, all times from midnight onward use this designation. PM stands for “post meridiem,” meaning “after noon” or “after midday,” and as such applies to the times from noon onward

Ok so knowledge gained .. deed for the day .. done ..

Amitabh Bachchan