#one will ever control him again. he’s the master and you will obey *him*. never again the other way around.

[erose-this-name]

Punishment.

Cult of the Lamb Ficlet because I lost control of my life again

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=⁂=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Lamb and their right hand cat, Narinder, walk about the cult grounds discussing plans for new buildings.

Kallamar and Saleos walk by, the former passively rambling outloud about schemes he will never actually go through with to the latter who just nods along, with the same reverence and eagerness a dog might have toward its owner. Kallamar seems to look at Saleos the same way one might be looked at by their housecat. As little good as they're surely up to, neither god of death pays them any mind, as they have proved to be more harmless together than apart.

Lamb chats to Narinder while sketching vague blueprints, “I saw you at your siblings’ house earlier, Nari’.”

Narinder grunts, “... And?”

“Don’t tell me The One Who Waited has forgiven them after being neighbors with them for only two hundred years?” Lamb teases.

“Of course not! None of my siblings have my forgiveness, nor will they ever. But, that spider is hardly the same person who betrayed me, not anymore. No point punishing the innocent. No point in letting what little remains of their talents go to waste.”

Narinder chooses his words carefully, the Lamb has probably already gleaned from his thoughts that he went to see Shamura, but maybe he could hide his intent behind ambiguity. This is just another facet of the countless indignities and adjustments he has had to go through after losing his Crown.

“Pragmatic!” Lamb smiles, complimenting the cat. Then, why do you think of guilt, Narinder?

Leshy bursts from the ground before Lamb, startling the young god of death. The worm bares his teeth, “Horrendous cruel beast! Why does Heket have to tend to both the farms and the gardens!? And is the head chef? EXPLAIN YOURSELF, IMMEDIATELY!”

Narinder rolls his third eye and picks up the blueprint Lamb had been working on, checking the shrine dimensions and blood plumbing for mistakes or minor improvements. It’s a skill that is easy to learn, but takes eons of practice to master.

Lamb looks at the worm with a wide friendly smile, unsure of his angle. His chaotic thoughts do not help. “Because, Leshy… She’s an ex-fertility goddess of harvest. I know it’s a lot of work, and she said she was the god of famine, but she seems to retain some power or knowledge of the opposite, so I think she can handle-”

Leshy throws his arms up, “SO DO I! I AM THE GOD OF NATURE! LOOK AT ME! I’M LITERALLY PART PLANT! Heket’s domain is merely domestic crops. Allow me to tend to the flowers and the trees, and I will grow them better than she ever could. Those camellias will have no choice but to obey me, FOR I AM THEIR GOD.”

Lamb tilts their head inquisitively, reopening the wound hidden under their bell collar, “Huh, so that’s why you look like that. I always thought you were the god of chaos?”

“Chaos is nature! Plants are not meant to be grown in ugly rows, so called ‘weeds’ are not meant to be pulled up, my hedges not meant to be trimmed into cubes. Nature is chaotic, it’s people who inflict their order upon it.” Leshy balls his fist.

“But, weren’t you also technically the god of order?” Lamb raises a brow, discreetly checking to make sure they’re wearing the blood red fleece, today. Or at least the robe they stole from Narinder.

Leshy produces a flower from somewhere, likely thin air, and uses it as a prop, “I am! Order is nature! Have you ever considered a flower? The intricacies and mathematical perfection of their petals, that I painted? The perfectly rehearsed dance of an ecosystem in balance? Nature is ordered, it’s people who inflict their chaos upon it.”

“Uh…” Lamb smiles, incredulously.

“What? That made perfect sense, right Narinder? The vile lamb must also be stupid.” Leshy says, rolling his non-existent eyes and throwing an arm around Narinder’s shoulder.

Narinder shrugs him off, not seeming to give a shit.

Lamb says, “Thank you for your concern, Leshy, but I think our current camellia output is sufficient. We really can’t spare another lumberjack, especially one as talented as you.~”

The green worm glowers at the Lamb, bearing his teeth. He turns and storms off.

Narinder watches his brother walk off. He turns to the Lamb, “Why did you put Heket in charge of sustenance? She is not above poisoning, or worse, you are aware of that.”

Lamb giggles, dropping the façade and rubbing their neck, “Because working with food torments her, now she can’t eat anything. Not if it’s still solid. She’s still much too proud to do a bad job, though. And I’m not worried about her poisons, anymore.”

Narinder says, “Oh. She always was a glutton, I suppose.”

“You think I’m being cruel, Nari’?” Lamb says coquettishly, licking their own blood and ichor from their clawed fingers.

Narinder’s three eyes narrow at the Lamb, “Cease your reading of my mind. And, yes, of course I do. However, I did not say it was a bad thing. She deserves it. I imagine that is also why you have Leshy cutting trees down, instead of growing them? Scary, how much of my vindictiveness has rubbed off on you, once so innocent... and, come to think, this is also probably why I was made your ‘disciple’, wasn't it?”

The Lamb gives him a sharp smile, “Ehehehe! Now, I’m starting to wonder if you can read my mind. A fitting punishment, yea? Always by my side. So close to the object of your desire, yet forever powerless to take it…”

Narinder’s face turns red and he gets a nosebleed. “I HATE YOU, Lamb! You are horrible and evil and vile, I’m leaving now.”

The three-eyed cat runs back into his hut.

Lamb mumbles to themself, obliviously, “Huh? He’s still thinking I’m cruel. He must really want the Red Crown back, I better keep teasing him with it!”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=⁂=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

As Leshy retreats to a secluded part of the cult grounds with a bottle of ‘very good’ wine he stole, to brood over the Lamb’s refusal, he groans to realize that he’s unfortunate enough for Kallamar to have already been there doing the same thing.

Kallamar smiles and waves, beckoning Leshy to sit beside him. After a few moments of Leshy not reacting, he speaks up, “Hello, Brother! Sit down, sit down! Still living with that mortal cat?”

Leshy sighs as he does so, “Yes. Still living in Heket’s basement?”

“Just because she built a floor above mine doesn’t make it the basement. It’s a ‘cellar’…” Kallamar clarifies.

“Rrrright.” Leshy brings his bottle to his lips.

“You know, it’s funny how you only act like a normal person when you’re drunk. You’re so much more genuine, this way. I much prefer it.”

Leshy spits out his wine, “W-what’s that supposed to mean?! I’M ALWAYS NORMAL!!! … So, anyways, how’s Shamura doing? If you ever need help taking care of-”

Kallamar cuts him off, “Oh, could you? That'd be great. Saleos hardly ever has time to help. Shamura's condition is… well they haven’t been getting any less lucid. They can take care of most things themself, these days. That’s actually what I was about to mention. Narinder came by the house today. Was asking to visit them.”

Leshy’s hand tightens around the bottle’s neck, “What? You didn’t let him, did you?”

“Of course not. Heket would’ve had my head if I did.”

“Huh… Why?”

“No idea, I can never read the guy. Maybe he feels bad? He used to be very close to Shamura, can’t imagine he wanted any of this to happen.” 

“Maybe… But why now? We’ve been living here for a century-”

“Centuries, actually. This year, it’s two hundred.” The squid corrects.

Leshy sighs, “... ‘Centuriessssss’. You know what I mean. Maybe that horrid little Lamb put him up to it. Seems to enjoy torturing us like that.”

Kallamar shrugs, “Shamura’s been asking about Narinder ever since.”

Leshy raises his tone, “Shamura doesn’t know any better. They don’t even understand what happened to them, half the time. Even when they still had the Purple Crown, they kept giving him ‘gifts’. As if nothing had changed.”

Kallamar swirls the red liquid around in his bottle, “I don’t know. You really don’t think it isn’t time to extend the olive branch? He’s in the same boat as us, now. To be honest, I don’t even blame Narinder. He did what any of us would have done in that situation.”

“That’s… surprising to hear from you, Kallamar.”

“I just wish I didn’t have to get caught up in the crossfire. And, isolating Narinder has only been driving him closer to the Lamb, somehow. They are our real enemy.”

Leshy rolls his nonexistent eyes, “Ah, there it is… I mean, I don’t disagree. I empathize with him. And I miss having him as a brother, before all of this. But, I don’t know if I could ever forgive him, not after all he’s taken from me. My existence is hell, because of him.”

“Isn’t that more because of the Lamb, Brother?”

“What? No. Don’t get me wrong, I despise the Lamb. But, it was Narinder who gouged out my eyes, who sicced that vile beast on me.”

“... so?” Kallamar raises a brow.

“W-what do you mean ‘so’? Look at me! What he did to me.” Leshy gestures to his bandaged face.

“He did the same to all of us, you don’t see me asking for pity.” Kallamar takes a drink.

Leshy laughs in Kallamar’s face.

“PFFHAhAHAHahah! NO! No-no, no, no. No. We are not the same. I will admit, Shamura received a far worse fate than I, though my own suffering outweighs that of everyone besides. Then, after mine, was Heket’s. Then Narinder’s. And only then, last of all, is you. He Who Waited merely tore off part of the outside fins of your ears, you are not even deaf, not completely… And, I don’t despise you for losing nothing, Brother, I detest you because you got off so easy because you were a coward then, and you won’t even admit it because you are a coward now.”

Kallamar shakes his head, “Lost ‘nothing’? I lost my crown, my cult!”

“That’s not what I’m talking about, but yes. You did, though I’m sure you cried and bitched the whole time instead of fighting like a man.  But, it’s not like you were depending on yours just to hear. Or to speak. Or see.” The worm growls.

“You weren’t exactly blind until becoming a mortal. Didn’t you say you could see with the Green Crown’s eye?”

“That… that wasn’t the same! Didn’t you ever try looking through yours!? The Crowns see only truth, that isn’t the same as seeing. Beauty. Is. Not. True. Natural beauty was once all I cared about bringing into the world, it was what gave my existence meaning, what brought me happiness… For centuries, I haven’t been able to remember what flowers look like. I know their fragrance, their feel, their shape, but their color? I am told camellias are red, red like blood. What is ‘red’, Kallamar? The Green Crown did not give me the emotion of red, not the association of blood and passion, not the striking vibrancy, it merely informed me of the wavelength of photons bouncing off chemical bonds in their pigments and the chemistry and evolution of those biomolecules, and I don’t even have that anymore. ‘Dappled sunlight trickling down from the canopy of Darkwood onto a glittering stream between mossy rocks’, these are only words to me. I can no longer imagine it, as I can’t think in images anymore, only in words and concepts… Every time that I feel cool breeze through my leaflets carrying the perfume of camellias, all I can think of is that I will spend eternity never again knowing their beauty. W-whenever my cat gives me one, I…” Leshy’s lip quivers, he shakes his head.

His head drops into his hands, the worm mumbles, “What’s even the point of living anymore? I want… I deserve death. But this vile, horrid, cruel beast won’t even let me die. They know how I feel, their Crown must show them, they know how torturous this existence is for me! And still they stand there, mocking me, with that horrible sadistic smile. Acting like nothing is wrong.”

Kallamar stares at Leshy, his stitched brow furrowing. “How dare you, Brother? How dare you think that you have the right to hate me, when I already hate myself? H-how dare you think so little of yourself as to deserve pity from someone as worthless as me, when you’re still you? Do you have any idea how much I envy you right now, Leshy? Long before all this, even when you were but a wyrmling barely in control of your Crown, I still envied you. Because, you’re right. I am a coward, and a fucking idiot, not even the Blue Crown could fix that about me, because I’m also so fucking stubborn. I never deserved godhood. But it came so naturally to you, you’re so damn confident, and brave, and fucking cool looking! Everyone loved you for it! Your followers were inspired by you, drawn to you! My cult never even respected me, only feared me… Except for Saleos, he’s somehow worse… I should’ve been proud of you, as your elder bloodbrother, but as worthless and horrid as I am, I felt only jealousy… and loathed myself for it… If you think your greatness was taken from you, I never had any to begin with. If you’d even care.”

Leshy stands up, mouth downturned, the moss on his cheeks caked with wet ichor. 

He punches Kallamar in the face.

The squid clutches the burst stitches across his face, “OW! What the hell, Leshy?”

Leshy sneers, “Ooh, you think you deserve pity for knowing you’re pathetic? Don’t you try to out-do my pain! Don’t you think you’re the only one that hates himself. If even you couldn’t tolerate your bullshit, why didn’t you just fucking man up and die!?”

Kallamar reaches for his bottle. Leshy hits him again. The squid falls back, over the log, and flat onto the ground. 

The worm screams, “You think what the Green Crown did to me ‘looks cool?’, I’m a tree! You can pass as a normal squid. I have to tell people I’m an abomination, because I am. I’m a monster that devoured souls and families, and enjoyed it. And you think that was a good thing? You think they loved me for it? I didn’t even know what love was! Did you really think that I would feel better if I knew you only hate yourself because you weren’t consumed by your Crown, like me? Because you were still a person underneath it?! Do you understand how lucky someone like you is to have Saleos? How little you deserve his forgiveness, his love? After everything he sacrificed to you, willingly? And every day, you spit in his face!”

Kallamar curls up into a ball as Leshy kicks him repeatedly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to, p-please…”

Leshy stops, tears dampening his bandages. “Now… Saleos is going to tend to your wounds, you’ll talk his ears off about this, and he’ll still be on your side… and I’ll go home, and my cat will tell me all about how much he loves that benevolent Lamb for saving him from Darkwood. For vanquishing that evil god of chaos…”

Kallamar looks between bloody, shaking fingers, “H-he… still doesn’t know?”

Leshy sits down, wiping ichor from his hands, sniffling. “No. Of course not… I’m a worthless coward.”

The Lamb watches them from the temple window, with a horrible sadistic smile.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=⁂=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

#writing #fanfic #cult of the lamb #cotl lamb #cotl leshy #cotl narinder #cotl kallamar

[quietwingsinthesky]

it’s that no one ever believed him that gets to me the most. this is a society of telepaths. and yet when the doctor finds out that the drums are real, he’s surprised. the master is surprised, elated, by the confirmation that he’s hearing something that’s really there, that this thing that’s been following him and hurting him for so long is real.

after a certain point, given that the master is Really Fucking Good at mind control and such, you have to imagine that no one could just pick up on the noise in his head with a little general telepathy. he had to choose to let the doctor in to share it. and. and okay. we need to put aside him striving to be The Best At Controlling People’s Minds in the context of him having his mind violated as a child because if i think about these two things in relation to each other i’ll throw up.

but there has to have been a point before he was so accomplished that he couldn’t have defended his own mind as easily. that he couldn’t keep someone, anyone, from delving into his head and hearing the drums. which means i must conclude, because we find out who put them in his head at all and it’s the most powerful guy on gallifrey, that when he was younger, the people around him did know. they could hear the drums. they could figure out what was done to him. but they did nothing, they said nothing, they told him he was hearing things. because if the lord president wanted to use a child for his own ends, who was going to stand up and stop him? easier to sweep it under the rug. and the master lived with that for so long that finally having just one other person hear the drums was a shock to him.

#very fun that this twist is. first of all great for end of time. but also can be used to recontextualize other bits of the master’s behavio #not even explain away but give extra meaning to. you know? #he hypnotizes people because if he can control them it’d damn well his right to do so and if they didn’t want to be mindfucked they should #have had better defenses. he’s the master and he came to conquer. and such. #but it’s also. this is now inextricable from the fact that his own mind was opened up and used against him as a child. when he couldn’t #possibly have defended himself. this past and his actions cannot be separated. #a man can have more than one motivation he can be both a little bastard who wants to rule a world because its his due since no one could #stop him. and also. it can be because there is no way to undo what was forced on him as a kid. but he can at least make sure nothing and no #one will ever control him again. he’s the master and you will obey *him*. never again the other way around. #the master #simm!master #doctor who

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Who would you think would most likely to baby trap their barling in Obey me? Take your top four pick and why?

The tactic of baby-trapping is a hefty one. One that pales in comparison to these devils' powers and connection to you with their pacts. In the devil dom, they already have an advantage over you anyway so this is more of a psychological thing. Whether it's to satisfy his psyche or to control yours these are my top picks…

Mammon

He is the avatar of greed 

who better than he to own you in a way that actually manifests a child

“Better off sticking with me! You’ll need my help to raise the coolest little copy of me!” 

Its honestly probably an accident 

But as long as he gets to keep you by his side so be it

At first, he’s just not fully aware of the responsibilities that come with having a baby

And boy is he winded

He can’t run out because you and Lucifer are willing to chain him down to help

So he’ll suffer the long nights and the wailing as you both just get used to raising an infant

But once he gets past the dread he’s elated

Not only does the love of his life stay by his side forever but he has a cute kid to prove it

He won’t tell you that though

“Hah?! Love ‘em? I tolerate the little booger at best! Hey! Don’t hold him like that, you’ve got to be gentle!”

A doting father to the max 

and even being more attentive if not more obsessive with you

“I bet you thought the great Mammon would leave you to rot! Fear not I only left to get takeout…and diapers.”

“Mammon!”

“...and the heads of those demons that were talkin’ bad about ya…”

“Mammon!”

“What?! It was on the way!”

Asmodeus

Oddly enough he does it because of self-esteem 

Whether it's yours or his it's up to you

If it's yours he’s just tired of you looking down on yourself

And using it as an excuse not to be with him

Well if you're so certain you're not the most gorgeous human in existence then why are you pregnant with the child of the most beautiful devil in devil dom

If it's not your self esteem it's his 

Your divine.

He knows it you know it

And so does everyone else 

He’s not afraid of you beating him

He’s afraid of the crowd that follows

“Wow (Y/n)-chan your so popular…they seem to like you an awful lot...”

He’s never felt so insecure about himself before

How will the world know your his 

…better than with a product of your bond

“Wow! Aren’t they the cutest?! They’ve got my looks!” 

Youtuber kid all the way

Your child is more likely to be on more magazine covers than their father himself

Which makes it harder to escape if that was ever an option in the first place

But that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t feel the need to pick off your most avid fans

Especially the fans and theorists that notice your worried gaze and the possessive hold on your hip

“Oya you really captured their emotions that way! Too bad we can’t have you ruining their Winter debutant. Don’t be too sad! You are having the most beautiful demon be the one to end your worthless ugly life.”

Barbatos

Even with your summoner status, he’s a tough demon to beat

The power of time and teleportation are on his side

Which can make for a maddening punishment if you try to escape him

“Oh, so you insist on running, then? Fine but I’m not privy to keep doing this with you.”

Its also just easier to keep your mind on him this way

Since you're so insistent on trying to run he might as well make it impossible for you to do so 

Emotionally at first

This doubles as his claim to ownership and a way to halt you from running ever again

As a butler to the king, everything he has is to serve his master

Even you are allowed to be in his possession its because his master lets him or doesn’t know

But a child

His and your child 

That's something he can fully own

It works with your mind as well

Leaving you to either make the heartless decision to abandon your child 

or to stay and have no choice but to grapple with this constant piece of him 

That is if he lets it get that bad

Again with time as a tool, he can make it so everything he says and does makes perfect sense

“Let’s have a baby, my love. It’d be death all over again if you won’t indulge me.” 

“Oh Barbs, I was thinking just the same!”

Diavolo

Has to be given the idea

It's not going to be his first thought

“Won’t that be cool! Then we could be together all the time! Just the three of us!”

Whether its Barbatos or you scoffing at his behavior something gives him the bright idea

Like most things, he’ll be upfront

He doesn’t really need to stake his claim 

He’s the prince of devil dom 

The very clothes on your back say you belong irrevocably to him

it's more like he believes it’ll make your relationship better

You’ll be more willing to have fun not run if your child demands it

Right?

“Wow! Good job you managed to get them all in perfect order!” 

“Good job!? They killed half the staff for a demented dominoes game!”

“...”

“That's a bad thing!”

“R-right! That's a bad thing just like your mother says!”

#yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me #yandere mammon #yandere babytrap #yandere asmodeus #yandere diavolo #yandere barbatos #yandere obey me: one master to rule them all #yandere x reader #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yandere mammon x reader #yandere asmo #yandere asmodeus x reader #yandere barbatos x reader #yandere diavolo x reader #yandere x you #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere harem

[thatonebrazilian]

Peace

Summary: How could someone like you ever give her the peace of mind you knew she deserved?

Word count: Around 8700

Warnings: Self-loathing, a little bit of blood and violence, mentions of torture, Weapon Hex!Reader (meaning Reader has both Wanda's and Wolverine's powers).

A/N: First fic after the hiatus. It was cathartic to write this, it felt so different from my usual writing style full off dialog and action. Hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

You met her during a raid. More specifically, you met her as she and the Avengers raided the Hydra base where you have been kept.

At the time you didn't really pay attention to her, even if she was the most beautiful woman you've ever laid eyes upon. Your mind was occupied with the all-consuming fear that paralyzed you, for despite the power that resided in you, you were no warrior. You were a nobody, someone who was taken simply because no one would miss you.

As luck would have it, though, you survived a mix of the most dangerous experiments Hydra has ever made. They called you Weapon Hex, but you were no weapon, you were merely a frightened girl with overwhelming powers.

You had never had much courage, and instead of changing that, your stay at Hydra only reinforced it.

But then, suddenly, your captors were lying motionless on the ground as you crouched down in a corner with your hands covering your head. One of the Avengers tried approaching you, almost as if you were a wild animal. Your reaction was merely instinctual, your magic flared up, throwing whoever got near you to the far side of the lab; your claws came out, and you accidentally stabbed yourself, yelping in pain, feeling your magic explode outwards in response to the well-known stimulus.

"Please, don't hurt me!" You begged, backing up as they tried approaching you again, dragging yourself through the floor as far away from them as you could.

"No one here's gonna hurt you, kid," said the beautiful redhead, raising her hands in a peaceful gesture.

"Nat, back away from her, she's dangerous," said a man with a bow and arrow.

"She's scared, Clint." The woman, Nat, replied.

You didn't know that woman, you didn't know those people, but looking in her eyes you felt safer than you ever did since you were taken.

"What are you doing here?" A blond man asked, taking a step closer.

You tried backing away once again, but your back met another wall. You were cornered.

The redhead reproached the blond man with a single look, making him take a step back, she looked at you then and smiled faintly.

"We're not gonna hurt you, kid, I promise. We just want to understand why you're here," the woman said, taking another step closer. You didn't try to back away this time, but you looked hesitantly at the men behind her.

She understood your hesitance, your fear, so she ordered them to clear the rest of the base, and they promptly obeyed.

"Now," she said, "can you tell me what happened?"

And that's how you found yourself telling her everything from the moment you got taken to where you were now; you told her about every single torture session, every single pinprick.

That was the first time you opened up to Natasha Romanoff.

~

You were not Avenger material; you knew that, they knew that, and yet, you stayed. Your powers were exceptional, the overwhelming magic, the super strength that could easily rival Captain America's, and the neverending healing that prevented your body from being damaged for more than a couple of seconds. If you didn't learn how to control it, you'd be exposing everyone around you to danger; that's why you stayed, were forced to stay.

They said they weren't keeping you a prisoner, that once you mastered control over your powers you'd be able to leave. In the beginning you didn't really believe it, but then, little by little, they earned your trust.

Steve started training you to control your super strength, and contrary to Hydra training, he never hurt you; quite the opposite really, he talked to you, made jokes and told you about all the times he kicked Hydra ass.

Thor tried helping you with your magic, but that didn't turn out great. Since there was no magic user on the team, hence no one to teach you practical magic, Natasha thought it best to help you master your self control and willpower in general.

Contrary to Steve's lessons, Natasha's were more strict. She didn't make jokes, she talked only when necessary, and glared at you whenever you were too out of it. You found it was a complete opposite of her normal behavior towards you.

For some reason, Natasha Romanoff, the most intimidating member of the Avengers, was soft on you. Maybe it was because you were the only other girl on the team, maybe she pitied you for your cowardice, or maybe she was a bit protective since you were the youngest. Whatever the reason, though, you were grateful for it.

~

She was troubled, you found. In the dead of the night, she'd trash on her bed, riddled by nightmares, only to wake up startled. You could feel her fears, her nightmares screamed at you from the opposite side of the hall; with your powers, you could feel her every move, hear her every labored breath, almost as if you were by her side.

That was how you found out that she didn't wake up everyday at 4am because she wanted to.

Steve, now one of your best friends, told you they'd run together at 4:45 every single morning, and you had mistakenly thought she did it out of discipline. Truth was, she only did it because she knew she wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.

That's how you found yourself in the kitchen at 4 am, with two mugs of tea ready. You didn't need as much sleep as the average person, what with your body healing itself every few seconds, so you thought, why not?

"What're you doing up at this hour, kid?" Natasha asked, walking into the kitchen.

You shrugged and offered her a mug "I don't really need much sleep, and I thought some tea would be nice".

You were no spy, no actor, but you honestly thought she would buy that little white lie. You realized how foolish that was when you saw her shoulders tense, an expression of anger taking over her face, one you saw many times before, but never directed at you. You could hear her thoughts, she thought you invaded her privacy, and betrayed her trust.

"You know about the nightmares, don't you?" She asked, taking a menacing step towards you.

Your time at the Avengers tower helped you control yourself better, but you were still the same scared, traumatized girl they took in a few months ago, and upon seeing that expression on her face, that threatening stance she took, your automatic response was to take a couple of steps back and use your arms to protect your face for the inevitable blows that would come.

But no blows came, and slowly but surely you lowered your arms, allowing yourself to see the mix of guilt and surprise written on her face.

She took a couple of hesitant steps forward, you didn't back away this time.

"I'm sorry," she said in a low voice, extending her hand slowly towards you, "I'm so sorry."

And then you were in her arms, head tucked in her neck as she embraced you delicately "I'm never gonna hurt you, kid, no matter what."

That was the first time you felt your heart beating erratically because of any emotion other than fear.

~

You were not emotionally illiterate, you knew what you were feeling most of the time, but the green, ugly feeling that arose in you every time you saw Natasha and Bruce together was somewhat new.

To be honest, you never really had anyone to be jealous of, you never fell in love, you barely had friends, and you and your family were estranged, that was the main reason Hydra took you, actually, because nobody would miss you.

So yeah, when the first person you deeply cared for in such a long time showed so much interest in somebody else, yes, you became jealous.

Weirdly enough, somehow, you managed to become friends with most of the team. You didn't know what they saw in you, you didn't know why they even spared a glance your way, and yet somehow you managed to earn a place in their hearts, which, if you were honest, only made you feel more conflicted as you watched Natasha flirt with Bruce.

They were your friends, for fucks sake, you wanted them to be happy, more than anything, but you couldn't shake the bad feeling growing in the pit of your stomach.

Each time she would laugh at his jokes, each time she would touch his arm, each time he would stare longingly at her, you would just wish them happiness in your head, but the war raging inside your heart told you that you wanted her to look at you that way. You, not him.

The fact that she was so soft with you didn't help matters. Each day at 4:00 a.m. you would have tea together, and each day she would tell you more and more about her past.

She told you about Yelena, Ohio, and the whole mission. She told you some things about the Red Room, although she became a little bit closed off whenever it came to that. It was clear as day how much her past weighed on her, the tenseness of her shoulder gave it away, along with the sleepless nights, the slight paranoia, and the trust issues.

You wished, more than anything, you were able to give her peace of mind somehow, but she was set on achieving it by trying to make up for all the red in her ledger.

Maybe someday you would get the courage to tell her that none of that was her fault, maybe someday you'd tell her that she was the best person you have ever crossed paths with, that she didn't need to make up for anything.

Maybe someday you would outgrow your fears and tell her how you felt.

But then, seeing the way she looks at Bruce and vice versa, maybe that day would never come.

~

It still amazed you the trust the team put in you, the problem was that you didn't deserve that trust.

On your first mission with them, the moment someone pointed a gun your way you froze. Steve dove in front of you just in time for the bullet to bounce against his shield. After that Clint promptly pulled you away from the action.

During your second mission, they deemed it better to leave you on the sidelines, where there would be fewer people trying to kill you. It didn't work out that well, though, for the moment someone came to you wielding a knife, you panicked and your powers flared out, throwing the enemy so hard their skull bashed open when they landed.

After that, Natasha started training you in physical combat along with your willpower and self-control training. Her focus was on you being able to duck and defend because she knew that if you learned to defend yourself, you would probably be less susceptible to freaking out mid-battle.

On the one hand, you did think it was going to help you during battles, but on the other, having her touch your body so frequently made you feel things. And Natasha didn't make things easy for you, she would come behind you and put her hands on your waist to show you the correct stance, and she would run her hands down your back or your sides each time she wanted to show you a new way to duck or dodge, and she would smile that dazzling smile of hers whenever you did something that made her proud.

"I think you're doing better," she said once, with a soft smile on her face "soon you'll be able to hold your own in the battlefield".

At that you retreated a little into yourself, wondering how such a powerful person as you could be so cowardly and selfish as to avoid fighting even when it meant you could save lives, while someone without any superhuman abilities such as Natasha could risk her own life to save others.

"I don't know, Nat" you said then, "I just don't think this will work. How will I even know what to do? I mean, I've never had the courage to follow up on my convictions, as long as danger was near, but now that I was made into this, danger's always around the corner… They say you attract what you are, and I am dangerous. I'm a danger to all of you."

At that, Natasha walked up to you. You didn't even seem to notice what she was doing, too wrapped up in your head, but then you felt her arms around you and your body instantly relaxed. What you did notice, though, was how she seemed to melt against you.

She was such a brave, strong, selfless person. All you wanted was to be able to make her see that too. You wanted her to feel relaxed most of the time, you wanted her to sleep soundly, and you wanted her mind to be at ease. But how could you, of all people, ever give her peace?

~

The upcoming missions weren't as bad as you thought they would be. Granted, you were never in the thick of it, you were never in the center field fighting with the others, but you did help from the sidelines, sneaking up on the enemy and making surprise attacks.

Your reaction to having any weapon pointed at you never got much better, though. You would freeze, tremble, and unwillingly blast magic at whoever tried to attack you. At least with Natasha's help, you learned to contain yourself, and there were never any more casualties when you entered the battlefield.

You wish you could say your reaction to seeing her and Bruce flirt got better, but it was stagnant, the green monster of jealousy never failing to show up whenever you'd see them together.

Steve seemed to catch up on that, and he took upon always offering you a way out whenever he realized you saw them flirting. Thus you began spending more time together, and whenever he tried to comfort you you felt a pain in your chest, for Steve reminded you too much of your late brother, the only person in your family that ever stood up for you.

And as you watched his face fall whenever he saw Tony and Pepper together, you realized you were not alone in your suffering.

At least you had each other.

~

You would never admit to anyone that you welcomed the distraction Ultron's bots gave you at that party. You couldn't handle the way Natasha and Bruce interacted with each other at that bar, and when the robots crashed in, you welcomed the distraction.

But then things started getting so out of control. First with the Maximoff twins, who you have heard of during your time in captivity. You had only heard their names by chance because no one in Hydra would trust you with vital information. You didn't know what their powers were, what they were capable of, or what they looked like. But then the girl used her magic to get into the other's head; she tried to do the same to you, she did, but by then you knew enough about magic to be able to block hers when it came in contact with yours.

The girl was shocked when she realized you had the same sort of magic as her, and then it dawned on her who you were.

"You're the Weapon Hex," she said to herself. You didn't say anything back, didn't have time, because by then her brother had already swooped her away.

You didn't chase after them, though, you turned as fast as you could and ran to where you'd seen Natasha, stagnant as a rock, glassy eyes haunted, staring right through you.

Your fingers touched her temple, and you could feel your magic warring against Wanda's inside her head.

Almost as if you were transported, you could see yourself in a sterile room with a younger Natasha by your side, strapped to a stretcher. She looked at you with no recognition in her eyes, and you didn't know what to do.

When you heard people getting closer to the room you saw a glint of panic in her eyes, so you did the only thing you knew how to do. You hid. And then, when the door opened, you took them by surprise. They weren't fast enough to escape the blinding red light that came at them.

With her captors out, you neared the stretcher, and as gently as you could, you unsheathed your claws and cut the straps holding her down.

This version of Natasha was so much younger than the one you were used to, her eyes were wide as you freed her, her muscles tense as she sat up.

You hesitantly reached for her hand, but she pulled away at the last second. You knelt on the floor, then, and looked into her eyes, trying to show her that in no way, shape or form you intended to assert any type of dominance over her.

"Nat, it's me, Y/N," you said, debating if you should try to reach for her hand again or not. "This is a nightmare, we were at a Hydra base when a witch attacked us. You're not in the Red Room, you're an Avenger, a freaking superhero. You saved a lot of people. You saved me."

She blinked a couple of times, and you saw a flicker of recognition in her eyes.

"Detka?" She asked, looking at your whole face almost as if she was analyzing you. You didn't know what that word meant, but you nodded anyway. You needed her to feel calmer so you could get her out of here.

Her shoulders relaxed a little and she took a deep breath, you reached for her hand again, then, and the moment your fingers touched, blinding red light emanated from them, taking you both to the real world.

You didn't expect the sudden dizziness, though, nor to feel your legs tangling with hers as you both tried to support yourselves on each other. And with a little shriek, you stumbled, landing right above her on the floor.

Natasha sat halfway up then, elbows supporting her, her eyes looking at you with what you could only describe as gratitude.

"Thank you." She practically whispered against your face, nose almost touching yours, making you realize how close you two were.

You got up fast with the excuse of helping the others. You avoided her for the rest of the day, too embarrassed to even look her in the eye.

~

Clint's farm was a charming place, and you felt a warmth in your chest when you met his family.

His wife, Laura, thought you were a sweet oddball, she took an instant liking to you. Little Lila was ecstatic to see another girl in the group. Upon seeing you for the first time, she asked Natasha if you were a superhero too, and as soon as she heard "She's the strongest superhero you'll ever meet", Lila immediately clang to you like a koala.

On the one hand, you felt a sense of belonging like you never had before, but on the other… it was not safe for any child to be around you, like it or not you were still dangerous, what if you lost control near the kids? What if your claws accidentally stabbed a pregnant Laura?

Overwhelmed by those thoughts, you took the first opportunity to slip outside when no one noticed. You didn't need to stay there at the farm, you could find a place to hide on your own.

As you were stabilizing your magic to fly, Natasha came from the house. You couldn't decipher the look on her face.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

Upon hearing her voice you felt your energy deflate, almost as if she was grounding you to her.

"It's not safe if I stay here," you said.

Natasha crossed her arms and took a couple of steps closer. "So what, you're just going to leave? Find a place to hide on your own?"

You could feel your eyes starting to burn, your shoulders sagging, "What if I hurt them, Nat? Look at me! I am too dangerous to be around children and pregnant women!"

She stopped for a second, almost as if she couldn't believe the words that left your mouth. She shook her head, then, and took a couple more steps towards you, her face showing nothing but understanding.

She hesitatingly extended her hand, almost as if she was wary of touching you.

That, right there, was another reason for you to go. After the whole Wanda fiasco, Natasha seemed hesitant to touch you. Although you two became way closer than before, it wasn't hard to notice her hesitance whenever it came to skin-to-skin contact. And maybe it was petty of you, but sometimes you found yourself wanting to draw away just to give her the physical space she seemed so keen on having.

But right there at that moment, she wanted to touch you, and you couldn't say no. Natasha slowly took your hands in hers, caressing your knuckles with her thumbs.

"You are the gentlest soul that I've ever met, you won't harm Laura or the kids." She said, looking deep into your eyes. "Do you really think Clint would have let you come anywhere near the farm if he thought you were a danger to his family?"

"But there's always the risk… As long as I'm here, there's always the risk of them getting hurt." You said, shaking your head, trying to pull your hands away from her grasp.

Natasha strengthened her hold on you, and with a slight tremble to her body, she pulled you in, embracing you.

"Please, stay, just a bit more… For me." She whispered against your ear, making your resolve crumble.

You melted against her, gripping her shirt in your fists as if she was the only thing keeping you up, tucking your face in her neck as if you wanted to hide from the world.

"For you. I'll stay for you."

~

"You know… it's been going on for a while." Steve said as the two of you sat on the porch, looking at the trail where Natasha and Bruce were walking together.

"What?" you asked, almost as if coming out of a trance.

"The two of them," Steve said, "it's been going on since before she met you."

You turn to look at him with furrowed brows "Is it? I've never realized…"

"They've been spending more time together in the last couple of months, but they don't seem as close as before." He said "Even if Natasha's been more open to physical touch. Well… she's been more open in general. I think it has something to do with you."

"Has she?" You asked "Because from where I stand, it feels like she's withdrawing from me…" you sighed and shook your head "I mean, we've been spending more time together too, but it's almost like she's afraid of touching me."

"I think she is afraid." Steve said, looking at her in the distance.

"What?" you asked, a crushing feeling settling in your chest "Do you really think she's afraid of me?"

"No, not of you. I think she's afraid you're going to leave." Steve replied.

"Why would she think that?"

"You never wanted this life, Y/N, and we always knew that." He kicked a bit of dirt, refusing to meet your gaze "We made you stay for you to learn how to control your powers… and now you have. After we deal with Ultron, nothing is stopping you from leaving us."

You hung your head, rubbing your temple with one hand as Steve gently patted the other.

"I've got nowhere to go, Steve. My family deserted me after finding out I was bi, the very few friends that I had have probably assumed I'm dead by now, I was living in a shitty apartment and working a minimum wage job. There's nothing for me to go back to." You said, then, raising your head to look at the sky "You're right. I never wanted this, and I've never asked for these powers, but that's not going to change the fact that I have them now and that I could do some good with them. But more than that, you guys became my family. I'd never leave you behind."

A huge smile lit up Steve's face, and he swung an arm over your shoulder, hugging you sideways.

"Well, don't let Tony hear that, otherwise he'll want to throw you a party," he joked "But seriously, Y/N, you're our family too. I'm glad you're staying."

You opened your mouth to reply, but the sound of Laura's voice made you stop.

"There you are!" She said with a mischievous smile on her face, drying her hands on her apron. "Steve, come with me, I need some super strength. Y/N, go get Natasha and Bruce for dinner."

"You do know I have super strength, too, right?" You asked with a lift of your brows.

"Yes, sweetie, but you're also as clumsy as they come. Now, shoo, go get those two idiots." Laura replied, making you laugh out loud.

"Yes ma'am!" You said, getting up and saluting her.

"So bossy," Steve mouthed behind her back. You had to hold back your laughter this time, lest she realize what he did.

You shook your head in amusement and turned around, looking at where Nat and Bruce stood. It could be considered a pretty romantic setting, both of them leaning against the fence, looking at the setting sun.

You really didn't want to go there, you didn't want to see how cozy they felt with each other, you didn't want to witness their mutual affections, but you also didn't want to stress a pregnant woman, so off you went.

They didn't see you approaching, you supposed they were too wrapped up on each other.

"You're the most wonderful woman I've ever met, I care about you too much to ever let you go." You heard Bruce say, your heart feeling heavy at those words.

"You know I find you just as wonderful," Natasha answered, her hand caressing his. "Yeah… Even though I'm a monster," he said barely above a whisper, eyes trained on their hands.

"Hey, there's only one monster in our team, and it's not you." She said, and you froze.

Was she talking about you? You looked at your hands then, seeing the slits from where your claws came out. You remembered the redness of your eyes whenever you were wielding magic, the way the very few serious injuries you'd had during your time with the Avengers healed almost instantly.

Of course she was talking about you, who else would she be talking about?

"That's no excuse, though," Bruce said, shaking his head.

"It's not. I already told you the main reason." Natasha said with a somewhat sad smile. "Bruce, I love-"

You cleared your throat, not wanting to hear her saying those words to him. "Sorry to interrupt," you said, then, not looking either of them in the eyes "but Laura asked me to fetch you for dinner."

Natasha raised a single brow, a smirk on her face. "Fetch us?" She teased.

You still didn't meet her eyes, though. You weren't mad at her for calling you a monster, you really weren't, because how could you be mad at her for telling the truth?

Yet, you knew it'd hurt to look at her right at that moment, so you just nodded, turned around and left.

You didn't make it far, though. Natasha caught up to you, her hand around your wrist. You hesitantly turned to face her, eyes downcast.

"Y/N, what happened?" She asked in a worried tone.

Your eyes landed where your skin was touching hers. It felt so right, but at the same time, so wrong. Natasha was a true hero, a person raised as a weapon, a woman taught naught but evil; lying, deceiving and killing were ingrained in her, and yet she fought against that nature every single day. She was a paragon of goodness.

Her integrity made you feel small and insufficient. It felt so wrong to taint that selflessness of hers with your monstrosity. It felt like you were wasting her honor.

"Detka," she said, hesitating before cupping your face with her other hand, making you look at her.

She had a worried look on her face. You bit your lip. You owed her the truth; of what you had just listened in to, of how you felt.

You didn't want to say it, no, but Natasha deserved nothing but honesty, even if said honesty did irreparable damage to your friendship with her.

You may be a monster on the outside, but there was enough humanity left in you to know that you shouldn't shy away from doing what was right just because it hurt.

"I heard you and Bruce talking…" you said, then, closing your eyes "I knew you were just being nice when you told me I wouldn't hurt Laura or the kids, when you told me I was gentle, but… If you really think I'm a monster, why ask me to stay? Why put yourself and the others in danger?"

A beat of silence. Two. Three.

You opened your eyes and looked at her, and for some reason, Natasha seemed utterly confused.

"What are you talking about?" She asked then.

"You told Bruce there was only one monster in our team." You explained, making her eyes widen a little before a look of pure determination settled on her face.

She gripped your shoulders, then, making you look deep into her eyes.

"Y/N, you are not a monster." She said, her fingers digging into your skin "I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about myself. I told you once and I'll tell you however many times you'll need to understand: You are the best person I have ever crossed paths with. You're just so good. Your heart is pure, you somehow managed to maintain a certain innocence in your soul despite everything that's happened to you. You are not a monster, you could never be one."

You furrowed your brows and gritted your teeth. Your heart did somersaults upon hearing her words, butterflies swarmed your stomach, and yet you felt terribly angry. How dare she talk about herself like that?

Natasha Romanoff was the exact opposite of a monster. She was an angel, a goddess in disguise.

"Why would you say that about yourself?" You asked through gritted teeth "I'd understand if it was about me, because even if you say I'm good, my skeleton is still made of metal, I still have claws, my eyes still turn red and yet I keep on being a fucking coward. But Natasha, despite not having any power whatsoever you still risk your life every single day for people you don't even know. You keep trying to clean up your ledger when you were forced to paint it red in the first place." You said, taking her hands in yours "You're not just any hero, you're my hero. You're the one who made me realize that I could do this, that I could be someone who helps people. You're the one who made me want to stay and become a full-fledged Avenger."

She didn't say anything for a moment, and you thought you went too far, that she'd push you away due to her own realization of your feelings, but then her eyes seemed to water and a smile lit up her face.

Coming to think about it, Steve was right, you never saw her smile as much as she did when she was you, and it made you wonder… maybe you'd never be able to give her the peace she deserves, but you were like a fire and you could keep her brittle heart warm.

"You're staying," she said more to herself than to you, as if there ever was the possibility of you leaving her.

"As long as you'll have me," you told her, then, taking advantage of the small amount of courage that ran through your veins at that moment to take a step towards her, getting rid of most of the distance that separated you and snaking your arms around her.

You were ready to open your mouth and tell her how much she meant to you, to tell her how she made your heart beat faster, how you never felt like someone cared for you like she does, but then your traitor brain recalled the one moment that'd make you pull back.

She was ready to confess her love for Bruce when you interrupted them.

And suddenly the butterflies in your stomach seemed to die, your heart started to ache and your eyes to burn. You couldn't tell her how you felt, you couldn't put that weight on her shoulders. She cared about you too much, she'd be devastated if she knew she was causing you any sort of pain. You couldn't burden her with that.

"Nat, I'm really sorry for interrupting you and Bruce earlier," you told her "and I want you to know that-"

You couldn't finish the sentence with her mouth pressed against yours. Your brain short-circuited, you didn't know what to do, except your body did. You didn't even realize you were opening your mouth to let her in, you didn't realize that your hands were pulling her hips against yours, you were too intoxicated by her to differentiate between up and down.

When her lips parted from yours, a muttered "wow" left your mouth without permission, making Natasha chuckle and bringing you back to the real world, the world where she was about to confess her love for Bruce a couple of minutes ago.

"Nat… what are you doing?" You asked in a small voice as her face got closer to yours again, too afraid to drive her away.

You felt your stomach drop when you saw her body stiffen, the smile on her face slowly dying.

"I thought… I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking, I'm gonna-" She was already turning away, but you caught her wrist with both hands, too afraid to let her go even if you knew you'd never make her stay if she didn't want to.

"I liked it!" You found yourself saying in a sudden bout of courage "A lot. I've been wanting to do that for a while, but you were about to tell Bruce you love him and I don't know what-"

"What?!" She asked, almost as if you had offended her.

"When I came to get the two of you, you were about to confess your love to him… were you not?"

Natasha's eyes searched your face for a while. You didn't know what she was looking for, but whatever it was, she must've found it, because her smile came back as she took a step closer and cupped your cheeks.

"You're right, I was about to confess my love." She said and you closed your eyes for a second, but when Natasha's thumbs started caressing your cheeks, you opened them to see her looking at you with a very familiar glint in her eyes.

"I was about to confess to him how much I love you."

You opened your mouth, but no words came, you were too stunned, not having expected to hear those words.

"What?" You asked then, dumbfounded, barely above a whisper.

"Bruce and I had this unspoken thing before you came along, and the more I spent time with you the more I drew away from him." She said, and to be honest, you never realized that, because your main focus was always her. "He asked me to give us a last chance, and I tried to make it up to him by spending as much time as I could by his side… but what you were about to witness was the moment I finally told him this is not working." She took a deep breath and rested her forehead against yours. "I've been in love with you for months, it wouldn't be fair to any of us if I chose him, knowing that I love you."

You felt tears pooling in your eyes, and your heart was beating erratically, but you never felt as happy as you did at that moment.

You pulled her mouth to yours then, muttering between kisses that you loved her too.

~

After that, you felt a strange sort of confidence you've never felt before. Maybe it was because little by little you were becoming more courageous, or maybe it was because you knew Natasha would be by your side no matter what.

You didn't change overnight, no, but you didn't shy away from things as much as you did before.

Natasha made you want to be better.

There was no label to what you two had, it was all too new, too fragile. You didn't want to spoil anything. The only thing you knew was that things with her felt… common, mundane, but not in a bad sense, it's just- you could be yourself with her, and she didn't have to put up any walls with you.

Even in the midst of all the hectic dangerous day to day of an Avenger, you still felt at home with her.

~

Taking down Ultron was a piece of cake compared to having to deal with the Sokovia Accords.

Of course you sided with Steve, and you had to admit it broke your heart a little to see Natasha taking Tony's side, but you couldn't accept being controlled by anyone anymore. You wouldn't.

Tony's side had no chance against you and Wanda together. The two of you immediately became friends after meeting; Vision attributed this instant connection to your powers, both coming from the same source.

It was almost as if you could feel her, and all you felt was sadness and pain. You felt yourself wanting to be a guiding light in the poor witch's life, even if your own was pretty much miserable before the Avengers.

Natasha took it upon herself to help you make Wanda feel at home, and your love for the ex-assassin only grew. You wondered how someone who was taught only evil could be so inherently good.

It didn't take long for Wanda to become one of your best friends, second only to Natasha.

Whenever you and the witch fought together you were unstoppable and, when the time came to fight against half of your new family, it showed.

Rhodes laid half dead on the floor, Vision had a couple of sparks leaving his body as if he was overworking himself, the Spider-Man stood trapped in a magical cage, and Tony's suit got destroyed in the blink of an eye.

The sight of Natasha going against T'Challa, taking a stance on the right side, made your heart swell with both pride and affection.

Of course, things wouldn't be easy in the future, both of you went against the law, and you were officially fugitives, but in your eyes, it was worth it.

You helped Wanda escape with Vision after Steve and Bucky left, and you promptly took Natasha's hand and flew away from the United States.

It was a couple of weeks later when you found yourself in Norway with her, living the quiet life in a trailer.

~

The quiet life didn't even last a whole night.

You were nervous about sleeping in the same bed as her; the two of you were taking things slow so both of you could learn to navigate each other's trauma and, hopefully, heal together.

The night after her first confession you had decided to ask Natasha why she was drawing away from you so much. You learned of her views on physical touch, and of how she acted when her feelings became too overwhelming. She told you she drew away from you because she was scared of her feelings, as she never felt for someone as much as she felt for you.

For her, physical touch was something superficial, trivial, something she was taught to use as a weapon, as a means of manipulation, so when she found herself so enamored with you she didn't want to sully you with her touch.

It took a while to make Natasha realize that her hands were clean, not a single drop of red in them. She more than made up for all the things she was forced to do when in the Red Room. It took time, but she finally started seeing how she was more than deserving of your touch (which was ironic, for you never felt deserving of hers).

So, yeah, you were nervous about finally spending your first night sleeping in the same bed… that didn't happen, though.

First came the Taskmaster, then Budapest, Yelena, the prison break, and finally Melina. And weirdly enough, her dysfunctional family became a supporting system for you, almost as much as her.

~

You always knew what Natasha was capable of, but after seeing the Red Room first hand you finally understood why.

Somehow, someway, Dreykov and his Widows found out about you, and more than that, they found out about your relationship with Natasha. Now he didn't want just her, he wanted the two of you.

So there you were, strapped to a chair, with cuffs that somehow inhibited both your magic and your super strength. And as if that wasn't enough, the Taskmaster held a strange gun in her hands, a gun that, according to Dreykov, could bypass your healing factor.

Things seemed dire; you were incapacitated while Natasha couldn't really do anything against Dreykov, nor could she attack the Taskmaster (otherwise Dreykov's gun would be tested for real). But your Natalia was a smart one, thus when Dreykov lost the battle of wills and attacked, Nat acted as if he was actually hurting her, and finally, when he punched her face for the last time, she threw herself to the floor near the chair you were strapped to.

With hands moving almost faster than your eyes could follow, she broke you off of your chains, and in a flurry of movement, she severed her nerve by bashing her head against the chair.

With the two of you free, she flung herself at Dreykov and you used your magic to blast the gun away from the Taskmaster, sending the girl you now knew to be Antonia right through the wall.

With red eyes and unsheathed claws, you used your magic to bind Dreykov's hands and feet apart, making him float midair as Natasha approached him slowly.

"You know, you were all safe, hidden in the dark," Nat said, each menacing step she took made Dreykov's eyes widen a little bit more "but you messed up. I bet you never realized my sister took after me."

Natasha was now face to face with him, her eyes full of a hatred you had never seen before "And as if your own mess up wasn't enough, you had to go and threaten the woman I'm going to marry someday; that's when you painted a big fat target on your sorry back"

You could feel Natasha's satisfaction as she punched him in the face, again and again, and again. She procured a knife then, and buried it in Dreykov's gut with a finality that only came from fulfilling a long, overdue mission.

But then you saw a red beam of light coming straight her way, your eye identified Antonia's gun on the girl's lap, pointing at Nat.

Your body didn't freeze this time, quite the contrary, it moved almost as if on its own accord, not that you'd ever do something different. You've always heard that love was for show, but you loved Natasha Romanoff so much that you'd die for her in secret, with only her's and Antonia's gazes as witnesses to your sacrifice.

You jumped. The bean hit you.

Even if you didn't survive, it would be ok, after all, just the knowledge that Nat loved you as much as you did her was enough to have made life worth living.

~

Your burial was scheduled in a secluded place, Nat reached out to all the other Avengers, and even the ones who signed the accords declared a truce in honor of your memory.

Steve knelt beside your coffin and cried his eyes out, for you were the sister he never had. Pepper held Tony and he buried his face in her neck in a failed attempt to hide his tears. Yelena petted Natasha's back as the redhead cried hunched over your body.

Nat blamed herself for not being able to break Clint free in time for your farewell, but she couldn't stand seeing your unmoving body anymore. She'd had Melina examine you, then she called in a couple of favors and got you to the best doctors money could buy. No one was able to even tell what had happened to you. Not even Antonia, after she got out of her mind control, could tell what was that ray she blasted you with.

"Nat," said a voice she knew well, but she didn't want to deal with him, she didn't want to talk to anyone.

"I do not know who you are, but now is not a good time" Yelena said with a little bite in her voice.

"My name's Bruce," he said, "I just wanted to say my condolences… When did…" he trailed off, not knowing how to say it.

"It's been a week, give or take," Natasha managed to say, pulling away from your unmoving body.

She gritted her teeth when she saw the frown on Bruce's face, she didn't want to deal with whatever the problem was.

"I'm sorry for being crude, but her body's in perfect condition, shouldn't it be in process of decompos-"

"Are you being serious right now?" Yelena gritted out.

"She's dead, Bruce, we took her to the best doctors." Natasha spat out.

Bruce didn't say anything, he just took out a small switchblade and slashed your skin, making Natasha pull him away and Steve punch him hard enough to make him fly all the way to the lake nearby.

"Holy shit," said Tony, "look at her arm!"

There, in front of their eyes, your skin slowly, very very slowly, knitted itself back together.

"How's it possible her powers persisted if she's dead?" Steve asked.

Tony shook his head "because she's not dead!"

Natasha Romanoff never felt her heart beating as fast as at that moment. You weren't dead. She'd have you back by her side.

~

You remembered all the nights when you'd hear the sound of tossing and turning, you could practically feel her uneasiness through the walls each night. The nightmares haunted her frequently and at that time you didn't know how to make them stop.

After everything went down, Bruce and Tony managed to find out that the ray basically made your heart stop, but your powers kept your organs alive, according to them you were hibernating. They took a couple of days, but your friends got your heart beating again. Now, after breaking the others from jail and safely evading the police, you and Natasha found yourselves in Norway once again.

See, you expected your first night sharing a bed with Natasha to be somewhat hurtful. You expected to see with your own eyes the extent of her nightmares, you expected not to be able to properly sleep due to the tossing and turning. Turns out you really didn't sleep, not because of her, but because you wanted to be awake, to be able to comfort her just in case.

A part of you found it weird that she didn't show any signs of bad dreams since you imagined that sleeping beside Natasha would be a testament to how haunted she was; you imagined the mumbling, the sweat, and the expression on her face that would show you what you always knew about. Her dreams were haunted by her past.

You imagined she'd twist and turn every night, you imagined you'd use your magic to soothe her.

As the days went by and you saw no sign of her night terrors, sleep came easily to you.

One particular morning she woke up before you, the light of the morning sun filtered through the window and bathed you in sunlight. You were facing her, your eyes closed, your hair a beautiful mess. She knew then and there that she'd never be able to live without you, that if one day you really left her behind, she'd promptly follow you.

You opened your eyes slowly only to see her already awake, looking at you as if she wanted to remember every single detail.

"Hi," you said with a shy smile.

"Hi," she whispered back, beaming at you.

You crept closer to her and tucked your head in her neck, basking in her smell, her warmth. You didn't say anything more, and neither did she, and that brought a lightness in your chest that you could only hope to be replicated in hers. There you two were, relaxed, tranquil, basking in the silence that only comes when two people understand each other, when there's strong enough a bond to form a family. She was your family, and it showed in the way you looked at her, in the way you touched her, in the way you always thought of her first. It showed in the way you interacted with her family, in the way you became thick as thieves with her sister, whom you now see as your own.

But there was just one thing that always bothered you…

"Will it be enough if I can never give you peace?" You asked her then, because you couldn't give her that, and Natasha Romanoff, more than anyone in the world, deserved peace.

"What are you talking about?" She asked, but it was a rhetorical question. You furrowed your brows and pulled back a little to look at her.

"You went through so much, Natasha; more than any other person I know. You, more than anyone, deserve to just be relaxed and not have to look over your shoulder; you deserve to sleep soundlessly and not be hunted down by any nightmare; you deserve not to feel the weight of everything that was forced onto you. I can't give you that." You said then, barely above a whisper, your eyes looking deep into hers. "I can't give you peace."

"Detka," she said, caressing your face, a small smile lighting up her beautiful features, "peace is not something you're normally able to give to other people… but if there's someone that does it for me, it's you".

You couldn't have heard it right, could you? How could you, of all people, offer it to her?

"What?" You asked then, perplexed.

"You helped me with getting my family back, you made me see that I made up for everything I've done under the Red Room's name; With you, I never have to look over my shoulder, I feel relaxed enough because I know you're always going to look out for me; I never have to worry about my enemies getting ahold of you, because you defied death itself; there's also the nightmares, I haven't had a single one since I first slept by your side. And of course, the love. You make me feel loved, truly loved, I've never thought someone could love me so wholly, but you do, and I love you just as much, and our love, in and of itself, it's peace."

You felt tears in your eyes, you felt butterflies in your stomach and bubbles in your chest. "I want to give you my all. Give you my peace, give you my wild… give you a child. I want to live the rest of my life by your side, Natasha Romanoff."

She smiled as she kissed you "Shall I buy the rings, then, my love?"

Turns out you didn't need to know if it'd be enough if you could never bring her peace, because you are her peace.

Natasha Romanoff taglist: @strangegardentaco, @madamevirgo, @Lovelyy-moonlight, @agent99galanzo

#natalia alianovna romanova #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfiction #Natasha x you #natasha x reader #black widow x you #black widow imagine #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff imagines #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff #Taylor swift made me do it #based on a taylor swift song #peace taylor swift

[raysrays]

Bust Your Kneecaps Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku X GN! Reader Oneshot

Warnings: Kidnapping, Torture, Stockholm Syndrome, violence.

-this is my first time writing on Tumblr. Hope I didn’t do terrible.

It was never supposed to be this way. You were on your way to moving up, to becoming a Hashira. Everything you have worked for years seemed so close, only for an instant. So how did you get here? How exactly did you end up with your hands and feet bound in the Flame Hashira’s quarters?

You sit there in silence, trying to figure out exactly where this had all gone so wrong, remembering when you first arrived at the Demon Slayer Headquarters, facing the master and all the other Hashira. And then, of course, meeting him: that smiling ball of joy, the sun in its purest form, Kyojuro Rengoku, the Flame Hashira.

You recall that day just like it was yesterday: his kind smile, the gentle touch of his hand shaking yours. He was everything you could have asked for, so why would you ever say no to being his tsuguko? Being trained by the tall, charming Flame Hashira. You’d be stupid to refuse. He had you fooled, he had you all fooled. Behind that seemingly genuine smile was nothing more than a sick and twisted man, interested only in having complete and utter control of the people in his life.

Unfortunately, now you were on the receiving end of his descent into madness. And here you are, bound on the floor.

“My little flame! I’ve returned from training,” his booming voice immediately catches your attention. You feel your body tense from his presence. Just being around him has made you feel uneasy. As he approaches, you keep your eyes lowered, staring at his feet. After a moment, you feel his hand pull your face up to meet his. His bright eyes staring down at you make your heart race.

“Why do you look so scared, sunflower? It’s only me!” His bright, happy smile feels so disturbing now. You pull your face away from him. “I’m not scared. I just wish you’d let me out of here.” Your voice was harsh. You’ve always been a little defiant but nothing Rengoku thought he couldn’t handle.

Just then, he kneels right in front of you to be eye level with you again. You see his sword peeking out from his Hiaori. It makes the hairs on your back stand. His smile has fallen and his eyes look sad. “You needn’t be so upset, sunflower. I’m simply keeping you here for your own protection. You have no reason to be angry or frightened.” His voice is stern but caring. You roll your eyes at this statement. Protection? You were a skilled swordsman worthy of becoming a tsuguko. Why would you need him to go so far as to lock you away for your protection?

“I don’t need you to protect me. I can take care of myself. Besides, this is overkill. You need to let me go.” You turn to meet his gaze. His face was completely different this time. He looked so serious and somewhat angry. “You aren’t going anywhere. Do you understand?” His voice was stern and cold. His state was enough to make you completely freeze. He looked crazy. He was crazy. There’s no way you could stay here. You wonder how many people have seen this side of him? How many have lived?

Past the fear was anger. You’ve always been used to being ahead of your peers, used to success and right now the one you wanted to lead you to the top was keeping you from becoming everything you were capable of.

“You’re sick, Kyojuro. You need help. Let me out of here.” You tried to remain calm but he was really testing your patience. All it took was one swift second to feel your breath getting knocked out from under you. Laying on your back, coughing, you look up meeting eyes with a pissed-off Rengoku.

“I’m sorry I think you misheard me, my little flame. I said I’m doing this to protect you… Surely you understand it’s your job as my Tsuguko to obey my orders.” His eyes narrowed and he put his face close to yours, whispering in your ear.

“Don’t make this difficult, Y/N. You have an obligation to me and me alone. So why would you ever go against my orders?” His point was irrelevant. You had no obligation to this psychopath. Your frustration finally got the best of you. Once you finally caught your breath back, you tried to shove him away from you even while your legs and hands were bound. It wasn’t as effective as you had hoped but it made him fall back onto the ground with you.

You took this opportunity to try and stand, hoping to at least be able to hop towards the door. Maybe someone would notice you if you screamed for help or made enough noise.

“Someone help me-!” After what felt like five seconds of hope and victory, You felt a sharp pain in your legs. So bad you immediately hit the ground. The pain was excruciating; all you could do was lay on the ground trying to fathom what just happened. Then you noticed a shadow standing over top straddling your body.

“I told you to not make this difficult, sunflower…” he let out a sigh and bent down next to you. He noticed you staring off at the ceiling, trying to process the immense pain you were currently in. He then took his hand and turned your face to look at him. There he was again. That sweet smile and those bright happy eyes.

“There isn’t a line in the world I would not cross for you, Y/N.” He then leaned down to kiss your forehead gently.

“Try and run all you want. I’ll always find you. You’re mine. Mine alone.”

You couldn’t believe what he was saying; he really had completely lost it. So why, in the middle of all this pain, did you feel your face heating up? This man is crazy. He’s insane. So why? Why does a part of you want to see how far he’d chase you?

You stare up at him mustering up what strength you had left. “You’re crazy…” you finally breathe out.

He smirks and caresses your cheek. “Only for you, sunflower.”

#rengoku kyojuro #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #rengoku x reader #kny rengoku #Yandere #yandere rengoku #x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #anime #oneshot #fanfic #kny hashira #kyojuro rengoku x reader #gn reader

[mammons-hubby]

Nsfw!

The Obey Me brothers and the kinks I believe they enjoy/have!

18+

(I wrote this once and because of my internet didn't save... fml.)

Warnings: Non gendered Mc. Both dom/sub and top/bottom Mc. The brothers are all vers and switches. Bdsm talk in some of these.

Master/slave dynamic. He loves to dominate you, but he would also not mind being the dominated, as we have seen in the iconic moment where he says "Master, give me an order"

Lucifer

Spanking: Probably more into doing the spanking than receiving it. Picture him using a fancy riding crop.

Whipping, can picture him both being whipped and doing it himself.

Shoe licking, again, it goes both ways whether he is feeling in a more dominant role or a more submissive one.

Stepping on genitals.

Humiliation. Threaten to show the whole Devildom how much of a whore he is, in his nervousness there will be tingles of arousal.

Bondage, he would love to tie his lover to the bed and have complete control over them.

Mammon

Marking, cover him in marks or let yourself be kissed and bitten, either way he will love it.

Petplay, we see him in canon take characteristics of a dog, even barking, so I think putting him in collars and calling him a good boy would do wonders for him.

Speaking of good boy, praising is probably very high on his list. He gets reprimended and insulted all the time, so he wants to feel loved every once in a while.

Hair pulling, pull this good boy's hair, he will melt.

As it is mentioned in canon, he is a masochist. Slap him, spank him, hit him, he will like it. But be sure to pamper him after all is done.

A little bit of degrading, but not too much, or he will cry.

Cosplay and roleplay. Dress yourself as a bunny girl, nurse, dominatrix or in the other hand make him wear the tiniest dress you can find! He will love it.

Leviathan

Degradation, it's canon he likes to be insulted, so call him your slut and good for nothing, he'll probably melt.

Humiliation, same as the previous one, make him do stuff to turn him red such as licking your shoes or masturbating in front of you.

Watersports. Force him to pee himself by pressing against his bladder. Call him dirty and tell him you'll tell everyone, he will be extremely embarassed (and aroused)

Monster Dildos. Especially those where you can put eggs inside (Ovoposition) or those that are tentacle shaped!

Overstimulation. He wants you to play with him so much it hurts, in a delicious way. Make him drool and cry, he likes it.

Petplay, he loves when you dress up with kitty ears and a tail plug, but don't get it wrong, if you ever ask he would dress himself as one too and even meow and purr for you. Be sure to take pics.

Satan

Vibrators, he likes to challenge you to see how much you can stand while using one, whether it be at home or outside. If you ask nicely, he may wear one too, he has more stamina but it still affects him quite a bit, so when you see eachother again be ready for some action.

Spanking, either receiving or giving. He is much softer than Lucifer, as the romantic he is. He loves seeing your behind red and puffy from all the love.

Roleplay. He likes to bring his fantasies from books to life, be it you role-playing as a librarian punishing him, or some soft love making representing a scene from an erotic love book.

Exhibitionism, he believes he is a work of art everyone should admire. He caught everyone's attention and lust, and he knows it.

Asmodeous

Public Sex, he can't keep his hands to himself and off you, he needs to do you everywhere and everytime you guys are able to. If someone catches you, he will be sure they never say anything, but remember the ocassion for the rest of their lives.

Orgy, he wants everyone to love him and show him sexual affection, but when you're involved he keeps you only to himself.

Sex toys, he has an enormous collection, of all the colors, shapes and sizes imaginable! Hidden in an interdimentional closet so he can have as many as he likes in his room. He will use them on you and on himself, and in both of you at the same time if possible.

Chastity cage, as a fashion statement and as to give you control over himself. If you have a dick, he may even plead for you to use one too.

Breeding, receiving and giving. While receiving he loves to think of you and him having a big family, even if you're not able to get pregnant or don't really want to. When receiving he loves the feeling of being full and he may also fantasize on carrying your children, even if you don't have a dick and use an ejaculative strap, he likes to think about it.

Beelzebub

Size difference, he is quite big and it's quite possible you'd be at least a head smaller than him. He likes to compare hand sizes and grab your waist, manhandling you with love, and groping everywhere he is able to. In the strange case you're taller than him? He would love for you to use him and bend him in whatever position you desire.

Food play, this man is the avatar of gluttony, so it makes sense for food to also be involved in his sex life. Let him lick honey off your stomach or cream off your nipples. He mostly gives in this, because otherwise his stomach would be grumbling all the time.

Stuffing, same as the other, but in this case receiving, he loves the feeling of being full and even more if you're the one feeding him. It tastes even sweeter when the food comes from your hands.

Marking, he likes to give soft bites on your plump skin tissue, and gets quite happy when he sees the love nibbles on your skin. He doesn't mind if you mark him either.

Somnophilia, as the avatar of sloth, there is nothing he likes most than you playing with him while he is asleep. Tease him, fuck him, whatever you do will get him hard and panting while he dreams.

Belphegor

Brat domming, let's be honest, he is a total brat and shows it all the time. Dominate him with all your might, be mean and rough with him and bring him to tears. He will fight, but he loves when you break him apart.

Milking, he gets extremely tired, but loves the painful feeling on his cock after being totally drained.

Nipple play, his nipples are very sensitive and can even lactate a bit. If you pull and bite them he will be a whining mess in no time.

Overstimulation, this plays alongside the domming aspect. Make him cry and writhe in pain, he may fall asleep on you, but even then you can keep going, he won't be too mad.

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #Obey me lucifer #Obey me mammon #Obey me leviathan #Obey me satan #Obey me Asmodeous #Obey me beelzebub #Obey me belphegor #Nsft #Obey me nsft #Sub reader #Dom reader #Top reader #Bottom reader

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 27: Oliver's Delivery

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: captivity, mind control

The next two evenings passed too slowly and too quickly at the same time.

Oliver was charged to remain in Miss Lily's room with Miriam, while Miss Lily finished up work at the auction house. She left him with little entertainment save a stack of magazines, but the room also contained a radio, a luxury he didn't have at home.

Home. Would he ever see it again? Or was Lord Alexander's house his home for the rest of his life, now? Would he be locked in a single room, a prisoner, never emerging except at his new master's behest, or maybe not at all? Was he even still a person, or was he simply a food source? And if it was the latter... food sources didn't need enrichment or entertainment, no more than you might bring a loaf of bread or a hunk of cheese with you on a walk.

He might never see anything but the inside of a single room at a vampire's mansion for the rest of his pathetic life, and there was so little he could do about it. Miss Lily and Lord Alexander could both control his mind effortlessly. They made him want to obey. And he felt so torn inside, his desire to obey at odds with his lingering sentiment toward his old life.

Miriam wasn't particularly forthcoming with information. She spent the bulk of her nights either sleeping or embroidering, but she didn't seem to mind when Oliver switched on the radio. It had quickly become obvious that her memory and focus were both patchy, and any questioning about Miss Lily or her life as a thrall was met with uncritical gushing. Besides, Lord Alexander was clearly quite different from Miss Lily, so any information gleaned from her was of limited use at best.

He'd know soon enough, when he was delivered to Lord Alexander's house, and what an awkward moment that would be, when the two of them were alone. No longer bookseller and patron, but master and thrall. 

He tried to push all the worst possibilities out of his head. Lord Alexander chaining him in a basement. Lord Alexander whipping or beating him if he weren't obedient enough. Lord Alexander shattering his mind with his hypnotic powers. He wouldn't have thought the quiet, studious man to be capable of any of those things -- but he wouldn't have thought he was capable of buying and keeping a human being, either.

And what if the purchase fell through? What if Lord Alexander changed his mind? The next highest bidder was Lord Jameson. Oliver's memories of that encounter were muddled, but he could still recall his cruel eyes and his threats. His worst nightmare.

On the third evening, Oliver had only just woken up, anxious thoughts already clouding his mind. Miriam was still fast asleep, so he didn't want to turn the radio on. Instead, he went into the bathroom and took a nice, long, hot shower to calm himself. He hoped that he had a shower where he was going. It made everything far more bearable.

Oliver had no sooner put on his soft white thrall's dress and emerged from the bathroom, hair still damp, when Miss Lily bounded into the room. She was holding a small cardboard box."The check cleared! We're in the money!"

"Oh, wonderful!" said Miriam, clapping her hands.

"And the sun's only just set, so we have plenty of time to deliver you to Lord Alexander tonight, Oliver. We'll set out in my car just after breakfast." She set the box down on the bed. "Here are your personal affects. They'll come with us. And you'll probably want to put your shoes on."

Oliver peered in the box. His shoes were in the bottom of it -- he hadn't worn shoes since the night he was kidnapped. His belt was neatly folded on top, and his pocket watch and chain were tucked into one of the shoes. He hadn't expected to see any of these things again, especially not his pocket watch.

He could barely keep breakfast down once it arrived, nerves on edge. In the blink of an eye, he was putting on his shoes and saying farewell to Miriam, who was staying in the room while Miss Lily made her delivery.

As though I'm a parcel, he thought, half-expecting Miss Lily to wrap him in paper or bind him with twine. Instead, she indicated for him to follow as they navigated the now very quiet auction house. A few dead-eyed thralls passed with trays of breakfast, not paying them any mind, and Oliver spotted Miss Cecily, the vampire who had processed him in. She gave him a curt nod.

Soon enough, they were in the underground garage, and Oliver was bundled into the passenger seat of Miss Lily's car. Oliver leaned his head against the window and watched the countryside give way to clusters of houses and finally to the city proper. Last time he'd been in a car, he'd been trying to escape through a drugged haze; this time, he had no desire to resist.

He thought about asking Miss Lily questions, but it seemed pointless now. He'd know what his life would be like soon enough, and he'd rather enjoy the scenery out of the car window, just in case he ended up imprisoned permanently.

As the car turned down city streets, he saw the ordinary bustle of early evening. Tired looking people making their way home from work, shops serving the last of their customers, bars and dives beginning to fill with their usuals, couples walking along the street arm-in-arm. Such a familiar sight after all his time spent in the bizarre world of vampires.

And he was suddenly filled with regrets. He might never do any of that again, even something as simple as going to the shop, never mind falling in love. He'd always just stayed in his bookshop, living a quiet life, waiting for something to happen, thinking of the things he might do someday. He hadn't pursued romance, he hadn't traveled, he'd only dabbled in learning new skills. He hadn't pursued what he wanted -- he didn't even know what he wanted. He hadn't appreciated how precious his time was until it was too late.

Maybe he really was meant to be a vampire's blood source. Better someone like him than someone living a vibrant life to its fullest. 

Oliver was roughly jolted out of his thoughts as Miss Lily attempted to park the car, hitting the curb and ending up with the car partially on the sidewalk. He opened his mouth to say something but then decided that if Miss Lily wanted to risk a parking ticket, that really wasn't his business.

They were parked in front of a brick mansion, three stories high and with two wings, in the oldest and wealthiest part of downtown. The windows were all blocked with thick curtains, and the lawn was sparse but reasonably kept. A wrought-iron fence separated the mansion from the street.

This was it, then. His new home.

Miss Lily showed no hesitation in marching Oliver up to the door and knocking. She smiled serenely while they waited for an answer, all the while Oliver's hands shook and his knees turned to jelly.

It's only Alexander, he reminded himself. You know him. You've talked to him on many occasions. It's only Alexander, who was secretly a terrifying vampire lord, who now owns you.

Oliver's trembling grew worse.

The door opened. Lord Alexander was wearing a rumpled white button-down shirt, his hair pointing in every direction, his blue eyes tired. "Ah. Come in," he said, his voice and expression as though he were keeping it stoic on purpose. Oliver followed Miss Lily into the mansion's foyer, and the sound of the door closing behind him roared in his ears.

The place was not what he might have expected from a vampire lord's manor, but it is what he might have expected when he thought Lord Alexander was human. The foyer was clean but cluttered, with an overflowing coat and shoe rack near the door and bookcases crammed into every free space. It was illuminated by gas lamps, and Oliver would have found it cozy looking under different circumstances. A carpeted staircase led into a foreboding, darkened loft, and a few hallways and doors branched off the main entrance.

"Welcome, Oliver," said Lord Alexander. "I trust your transport went smoothly? And that Lily treated you well?"

"Oh, yes, sir, very much so," said Oliver.

"Of course I did," Miss Lily added. "What do you take me for? I know how to treat a thrall."

Lord Alexander glared. "Do you even realize what you've done? I told you in no uncertain terms that I wasn't prepared to take a thrall. And you know exactly why."

"What did you expect me to do, then?" Miss Lily rolled her eyes. "Colette was the one who captured and brought him in. I thought he would suit you, and I was right. I had no idea this was a human you were already attached to."

Oliver looked at Miss Lily curiously. Lord Alexander was attached to him? What did that mean?

"You know that our sire will be far too interested in him," said Lord Alexander.

"You worry too much. He barely touched your last thrall."

"My last thrall was specifically chosen to be uninteresting to him. This thrall," he said, pointing accusingly at Oliver but glaring at Miss Lily, "may as well have an electric sign pointing to his head."

Oliver wasn't entirely sure what was being discussed, but it certainly didn't sound favorable to him. "Sir -- if I've done something wrong --"

"You haven't done a thing wrong, Oliver," Lord Alexander immediately reassured him. "It's Lily here who has overstepped. It isn't the first time and I'm sure it won't be the last."

"Excuse me for wanting you to be a little happier," she said in a softer tone. "Look at you. You're exhausted and diminished from drinking nothing but farmed blood for months. You need a fresh human. And this human is ideal for you. He smells delicious, he shares your interests, and he's perfectly fit to be a servant. You need this, Lex."

Lord Alexander looked over to Oliver, anger gone from his expression. "...I know I do. That's not in question. The question is how I keep my sire at bay."

"You'll figure it out," said Lily. "You're a smart boy. I know you've been working on it."

"And you know how little progress I've made lately." Lord Alexander ran his hand through his hair.

"Well, maybe this will light a fire under you."

"I suppose it has to. I don't want anything to happen to..." He trailed off with an anxious glance. "Anyway, I need to get Oliver settled. We should catch up soon. Call on me next week?"

"I will. I'll bring Ruth, too. She missed you back at the auction house, and you've been so damn reclusive," said Lily. "Anyway, I have business back there, so I'll be on my way."

"Indeed."

"Well, good luck, Oliver! Be a good thrall for Alexander, won't you? I'll see you both soon!"

Miss Lily was out the door, and Oliver was now alone with his new master.

Part 26 >> Masterlist >> Part 28

Oliver's arrived at Alexander's house, and your dear author needs to write some more parts because I only have four updates left and I'm trying to be responsible about keeping a backlog. Thanks for reading!

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @snakebites-and-ink @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining-blog @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #whumpee #vampire whumper #writing #captivity #rare bookseller #oliver #lily #alexander

[morgana-ren]

You ever just think about the fact that Ascended Astarion didn’t make Tav a spawn, but a vampire bride? Just so his beloved wouldn’t go through what he did? Like think about it.

He says his transformation was painful and that he crawled out from his grave, writhing in agony as the vampirism took over. But for Tav? He made it painless, pleasurable, and brought her back from the brink before she could fully slip into death with his own blood. Once a vampire creates their bride, their happiness and well-being depends on her. This is the closest thing that a vampire can feel to true love, despite everything being twisted in his head now.

The love he feels for her is still there, oh absolutely. It's just been twisted into something ravenous and devouring. When he says he wants to spend eternity with her, he very much means it.

The way he feels for Tav can never be true love because true love is selfless, and he is not. It's more of a dark mirror into true love. Desire becomes uncontrollable lust, protectiveness becomes possession, care becomes control, and love becomes an all-devouring need.

The thing with needs is that they are not up for negotiation. They are essential, and demand to be obeyed. Astarion needs Tav once he ascends, so it's no longer healthy. It is especially no longer healthy because he genuinely does not give a damn what she has to say about it. She is his: his lover, his beloved, his consort, his Tav; his. She is bound to him body and soul.

That's part of why he turned her-- well, that and obviously he couldn't stand to lose her, and mortals are so terribly fragile. She cannot leave him even if she wanted to. He knows firsthand what it is to try and disobey your master, and he knows no matter how willful, she will never be able to disobey or leave. He was handed a Illithid-ex-machina to get away from Cazador, and the chances of that happening again are... practically zero.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't care for her. In a way, he cares too much. He still loves her. Those feelings still fester inside of him, whether he wants them to or not. They still absolutely have a crushing grasp on him, probably much to his ire. Vampires are capable of love, just not quite as we know it. It's unhealthy and obsessive.

He doesn't want to hurt her. There was no reason to make her transformation painful. In fact, he associated it with sex so it was probably rather pleasant for her. He takes her as his consort eternal, and he very much means that. He doesn't have any intentions of abandoning her. He's basically marrying her forever.

Like you said, he even gives her his blood. Something that he tells you is entirely unheard of for vampires. She's not his equal-- not quite-- but she's as close as he could logically without giving her the means to disobey and, Bane forbid, leave him.

That love is still nestled in him. Again, like you said, it's just been twisted now. What was pure and built on friendship and love and care flips to the opposite. Desire and selfishness rule his life, and by proxy, her.

Think of a beautiful bird you feed outside. It's a mutual understanding built on compassion and trust. It comes of its own free will, and you give of yours. But suddenly it's not enough. You don't want that beautiful bird to leave you. You don't want it to fly too far or seek other gardens. You want the bird with you always, to sing and perch and keep you company. So you cage that bird so it no longer has a choice. You hide the bird away so it can sing only for you, now and always.

He loves her eternal still. And yet, it can no longer be true love when one side no longer has a choice.

#morgana and friends #astarion spoilers

[whumpsday]

Astarion and the Cleric #1: Lesser Restoration

Masterlist / AO3 Link (first time posting on ao3 since original fiction doesn't get traction there and this is my first fanfic :P)

content: baldur's gate 3 (fandom), astarion/tav (ship), vampire whumpee, starvation, comfort, caretaking, blood drinking

so i'm trying something new! never really been a fanfic person, only ever really written original fiction before, but astarion's been taking over my brain. so i wrote some incredibly self-indulgent fic for astarion and my tav. this is maybe the least whumpy thing i've ever written lol. prob cuz the game has so much whump already. there will be whump further in the series tho, and i have some VERY whumpy AUs planned too.

-

It was a no-brainer to decide which of his delectable new companions to snack on. Astarion had been thinking about it ever since he realized that Cazador’s control over him had slipped. A free man, he no longer had to obey his wretched master’s orders. He could feed on whoever and whatever he liked, whenever he liked.

And of his soundly sleeping campmates, the pick was obvious: Gentle. Even his name advertised him as the one least likely to put up a fight if he awoke in the process. He was small for a tiefling, not offering as much in the way of blood volume as someone like Karlach, but he would do nicely.

Would do nicely, if only he hadn’t been such a light sleeper. Astarion had scarcely hovered himself over his curled-up form when his eyes flew open.

“Shit.”

Gentle woke all at once, before Astarion could steal so much as a nibble. He squeaked in terror, not quite a scream, grasping half-asleep for his quarterstaff.

“What are you doing?” the cleric asked, voice pitched with fear, clutching the staff close like a treasured plush toy.

“No, no–It’s not what it looks like, I swear.” Losing his place in the group would be far worse than another hungry night, a severance of all means of protection. That was, if the little priestling and his friends didn’t stake him outright. “I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed– well, blood. It’s not what you think! I’m not–”

“Astarion, it’s okay!” Gentle interrupted, lowering his staff as the fear left his eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize. You’ve been suffering this whole time.”

The complete sincerity was almost sickening, as relieved as Astarion was at the priestling’s ready acceptance. “Yes, well, I’ve certainly been peckish.”

“You can have my blood,” Gentle offered, pulling the neck of his shirt down a little.

Just like that. So utterly easy. He hadn’t even needed to ask nor justify.

Astarion couldn’t stifle a small laugh at the absurdity. “My, you certainly know what to say to a man.”

“I would never knowingly let you go hungry.” There it was again, that cloying sweetness. If the cleric hadn’t been actively helping him, Astarion might have been more inclined to roll his eyes at the display.

“And I appreciate it ever so much,” he replied smoothly. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

Gentle blushed a deep violet, a reminder of the blood that would soon be his. “Yes, I suppose we shall.”

Astarion directed him to lie down, positioning himself over the cleric before sinking his fangs into his neck. It was absolutely decadent. This must have been why Cazador saw fit to deny him the blood of thinking creatures, reserving such a luxury only for himself.

He was so lost in it, he didn’t notice Gentle’s little gasps until he felt a timid tap on his shoulder. “Astarion?” he piped up, “Could you stop for a moment?”

It wasn’t enough. He wanted to drain the cleric dry from head to toe, every last drop sating what he’d been wrongfully denied for so long.

But he had an image to maintain.

“Of course.” He wrested his fangs from Gentle’s neck, standing up and stepping back.

“Just a moment,” Gentle repeated as he sat up, motioning Astarion closer.

Curious, Astarion returned to sit beside Gentle’s bedroll. “Oh?”

The cleric clasped his hands together, his palms emitting a soft, blue light. “Te absolvo!”

For a moment, Gentle’s whole body glowed the same soft blue. It faded as quickly as it came, leaving him with a little sigh of relief.

“There we go,” he breathed, lying back. “You can continue. I apologize for interrupting you in your time of need, but I felt as though I’d faint otherwise.” He tilted his head to the side slightly, inviting him back to the bite wound. “I have plenty more blood now.”

Astarion stared in disbelief. “You’re quite the character, you know. Though I can’t say I’m not a fan of your little eccentricities at the moment.”

“He wept for the hungry,” the cleric recited dutifully, likely quoting some dogma. “I’m honored to be of service.”

Never had Astarion been so thankful for one of Faerûn’s useless gods.

After he’d truly gorged himself on hearty tiefling blood and Gentle had cast Lesser Restoration a second time, the two sat in the warm glow of the crackling fire, Astarion’s stomach full for what felt like the first time in forever.

“Do you feel better?” Gentle asked, rubbing the sore skin of his neck.

“I do.” It was an understatement. He’d scarcely felt this good since the night he became Cazador’s. “Good, strong, happy. I should be of far more use in fighting.”

Gentle hummed anxiously. “Don’t like fights,” he murmured. He smiled anyway. “I’m glad you feel better. May you suffer no more. Why didn’t you tell me? I didn’t realize you were a vampire, I could have offered you aid sooner.”

“If I’d known you’d throw yourself at my feet, I wouldn’t have bothered hiding it,” Astarion said lightly. “Most wouldn’t be so…” Naive. Foolish. Suicidal. “Trusting.”

“Help all who hurt, no matter who they are. The truly holy take on the suffering of others. Suffer in His name…” Gentle trailed off, suddenly aware that Astarion wouldn’t care to hear it all. “I’m a devotee of Ilmater. It is my pledge.”

Lucky, lucky, lucky. Astarion doubted the Sharran would be so generous.

“Besides,” Gentle continued, “Regardless of my faith, I wanted to help.”

“Hm. Well, praise be to Ilmater.” Astarion tried his best to keep the cynicism out of his voice, not fully succeeding. He stood, preparing to go back to his tent. “This is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.”

“You can feed every night, if you’d like.” Gentle looked up at him with unabashed compassion. “It’s no trouble. Just get me when I’m awake next time, so I won’t be so startled.”

Astarion smiled, no longer taking care to hide his fangs. “That can be arranged.”

-

everything taglist (lmk if you only wanna be tagged in original fic):

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

@whumpycries

@lonesome--hunter

#baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #my writing #vampire whumpee #vampire whump #comfort #caretaking #hurt/comfort #starvation #fandom #fanfic #bg3

[iamjucie]

The Rescue Chapter 1: The Ball

You are sitting at your lavish vanity when suddenly you hear tons of noise from outside the chamber door. You pay no mind, however. Your master gave you a command and you continue to obey.

This is an alternative ending to my first fic "Pet"! It's a deviation from the original story and exists for hypothetical thinking only, I don't believe this to be how it actually plays out for our protagonists.

CW: Mind Control, Manipulating, Domestic Abuse Word count: 1k

You are sitting in the lavish master chamber of the ornate palace you call home. Gazing into your reflection in the vanity mirror combing your unnaturally long black hair, getting lost in thought. It’s really all there is to do when Master Astarion is away on extended business trips like this.

It does help, too, that before he left he told you to think of him while he was gone. It was a command. So you obey. And you think.

Master is so kind to have left you such a kind command.

“Think of me.”

It rings like a backtrack to the montage of memories that play in your mind. The glorious scenes he has you relive, the emotions he has you feel, the sensations he grants your body. You are so full of him even without him near; an ever-present ringing in your mind.

Although you miss him being physically with you, you feel blessed that you have him with you in your mind. He will be back with you in your arms before you know it, you must be patient. 

Your meditation of thought is interrupted by bustling outside your chamber door. Clinking, struggling, yelling. A plethora of heavy footsteps running up and down the halls of the palace.

What’s going on? You rack your mind as to what could be happening.  Is Master having a ball tonight? He must be, what else could it be? That’s the only reason there would be so many servants moving so frantically about. If they’re in such a hurry, it must be soon.

You gently place your elegant crystal comb on the tabletop of the vanity and you saunter your way to the wardrobe full of the most luxurious gowns, hand picked by your master on his travels. They are perfect, he chose them to see your body wrapped in them. And- they all fit you perfectly.

The racket outside quiets down for a moment before quickly picking up again.

“Where the fuck are you keeping her, you monster?” a brutish woman calls out from down the hall.

You put your hand on your chin, thinking about which gown to wear tonight.

“I told you! She died four fucking years ago! Do you not read Baldur’s Mouth?” Your master's voice is steady as it sounds like he is approaching the outside of the chamber door. “There’s been a tribute to her every year since she passed in my arms.” He continues, "Thanks for opening that wound, Karlach!”

What colour will you wear? Master says you look most dashing in royal blue. He says it compliments your beautiful pallid complexion.

“Yeah sure,” a different male voice replies. “like I’d believe the newsgroup owned by the person that would hold her captive?”

Yes, royal blue is the winner. But which one? You think it’s spring time, so a sleeveless, silk gown made by the finest tailors to fit only you is the one you decide on.

“Astarion…” yet another womanly voice says, this one far calmer. “This doesn’t have to get ugly. Just let her go and we can let bygones be bygones”

Now, which cover? You think the arctic fox fur shawl would go flawlessly.

“No, there will be no more bygones. Bygones are the reason we are in this situation to begin with! If you had never taken over the ritual and k-”

Your ears start to ring, as if an explosion had just gone off next to you. You flinch for a moment and put a hand to your temple. You can’t hear what the servants are saying anymore, not that you were paying attention in the first place. You have far greater things to worry about. 

How will you dress?

Your hearing is still deafened as you slip into the dress and peruse your glamorous jewellery collection. Pearls would go perfect with this dress. The long string you pull out of your case feels like it takes forever to end. You wrap it around your neck six times, the gems cascading the pale planes of your chest. 

Your sense of hearing floods back into your ears.

“I knew it! I detect the mind control magic you’re using!”  one of the male servants yells out. “She must be nearby! Get him!”

CRACK 

The sound of powerful magic echoes off the walls of the palace.

After you slip into your white silken gloves you hear the locks on the bedroom door begin to be undone, frantically and quickly.

Right on time!

You turn to face the door and prepare to curtsey for your master.

Astarion comes rushing in towards you; a look of flaming fury on his face. You instantly try to think of what you did to make him so mad but nothing comes to mind. You’ve done absolutely nothing other than what he asked of you. Gods damn it- you knew you should have misbehaved. He has gotten bored of your obedience again. You deserve the punishment coming to you.

He grabs you by the wrist. “Come with me love, we need to go now.”

You knew the ball was soon. Maybe you are still sharp after all!

“Of course, master. Just allow me to put on my shoes. I need to decide which will be best to dance with you!” you pull from his grasp and head toward your collection of shoes. 

“Dance? No-you fucking…” he pauses to look over his shoulder at the still open door. “Fuck it”

He scoops you and carries you bridal style running through the halls. Your hands wrap around his neck and you look at him. The man who is ever present in your mind. The man who knows more about you than you do. Your beautiful master.

He has a look of worry mixed with rage on his face. A look you haven’t seen from him in what feels like eternity.

You must be very late to the ball.

#astarion #astarion posting #ascended astarion #vampire ascended astarion #astarion smut #ascended astarion x tav #ascended astarion smut #ascended astarion fic #mind control #mind corruption #pet

[divine-jupiter]

Astrology Observations Post #3

Scorpio Risings with Pisces Suns have such a look. I can't explain it. They just, their eyes, just... do a thing. And you want to cuddle them so nothing can ever hurt them again.

Have you ever met an Aries Sun/Moon/Rising with a Scorpio Mars. Yeah... let's just say, master chess player. HIGHLY independent. Trailblazer to the max. Their energy is the one of "the revolutionary". Pure chaos. A rebel who somehow also inspires millions to a cause they didn't even create. Everyone just wants them to be the reckless hero of the story. And let's not get started on their death-defying luck. This mix makes me think of Batman, or the Punisher. More vigilante energy. One who doesn't obey the system because it goes against their principles.

Libra Risings, especially Virgo Suns, have an earthy symmetry about them. It's so warm and flowy, like that quiet week when Spring shifts to Summer. You know those nice warm days and not-quite-chilly evenings when the fireflies are flickering at sundown. Yeah. 💛

Aquarius Moons tend to over explain a lot when in longer conversations than the average meet-and-greet. As a fire sign, I don't really mind this, though. What I've also noticed is how they can find the rhythm of a conversation if focus on the subject is lost. They've got this supernatural knack for knowing when to shift a discussion, too. It's so accurate in timing, because I'll feel the energy of the conversation waver just slightly and the Aqua Moon has already jumped to something new. But what's cool is they don't do it in a jarring way. it's seamless.

Aquarius Risings have such a unique imbalance to their face. It's hypnotic and beautiful. The native themselves can often feel that they aren't what is considered beautiful because of the lack of symmetry to them. The concentration of Aquarius energy makes it more apparent because Aquarius goes against symmetry. I've a friend with this placement who also has an Aquarius Moon in the 12th House and her appearance, at least in her bone structure and physique, never feels fully settled. There is an ever-changing energy to her. She has a part feline/part fae look about her, very much like Michelle Pffeifer, but darker. Thick brows and thinner lips. She seems so sleepy and dreamy all the time with beautiful dark lashes.

Gemini Risings are so pretty, especially the masculine energy! You look like compact, speedy little gazelles, wtf! And their little hands!!! They're so cute and small, heaven help me!!! Also, if you've got a Pisces Sun with this placement--first of all, how dare you be so otherworldly! And the hair, the hair, the HAIR! The eyes, too! Sharp and mischievous! Another thing about you, this one is both endearing and a tad exhausting, is that once you start talking, you do NOT STOP. This counts double for air suns and/or moons. I've a best friend who has this placement along with an Aquarius Sun and Libra Moon, and she is so pleasantly calm. She never loses her temper, never shouts, and she always controls a conversation by never EVER giving into her emotions, which her sister (a Cancer Moon) cannot stand. There is something about a Gemini Rising that is meant for center stage, too. You really need one to bring a group of people together. I know a Gemini Rising who is a Pisces Sun and Aquarius Moon and he always uses his charm for his job, which for him is in endless supply. He has these gorgeous dark, almost mirror black eyes, too.

Leo Moons are such a sweet energy. They do thrive on attention, but people have to also understand that Leo Moons are driven by the people surrounding them. The energy people reflect back to the Leo Moon helps the native determine their importance to the person. If the Leo Moon sees you aren't showing that you genuinely care about what they are saying or doing, Leo's gonna bounce. Simple as that. No hard feelings. And I love how Leo Moons put so much care into doing things for friends. Like you could be having a horrible month, and this native will invite you to a tea party in their garden, make a home-cooked meal, make sure the temperature of the day isn't too cold or hot so you can sit outside in the warm sunlight and even pay you gas money or buy you a surprise gift. And the way these Moons just give you things at random, too! An their giggles! Those count triple if they've air placements. It's infectious!

#astrology observations #astrology notes #astrology #libra risings #aquarius moon #aquarius rising #gemini rising #leo moon #aries rising #aries sun #aries moon #scorpio mars #astrology*

[quandaryqueen]

Hi love your writing, keep up the good work! Also is it ok if i request of btas, arkham riddler with a s/o who acts like makima from chainsaw man. Perhaps you can make eddie a yandere if you're ok with it!

Necessary Evil

Yandere Arkhamverse Edward Nygma X Makima-like Reader

A fight for dominance through withholding one another's wants and needs.

Sooo I haven't seen Chainsaw Man but i have read up as best as I could for Makima and gosh isn't she a darling/j but I hope I did her character interpretation justice!

Warning: This chapter might contain suggestive and Yandere themes, that may be uncomfortable to some.

There is something about two dominant people fighting who gets the upper hand. Edward was particularly defensive about it, constantly asserting and making himself appear the more cerebrally superior. Edward, the "I can do anything and everything in the best way possible, so you best chose me. Love me. Obey me" kind of Yandere. Then there was you, playing into his little game, knowing which strings to pull for him to do your bidding. It was just so fucking easy to make him think he is in control.

Everything he does was to appeal to you, he claims it is simply him showing the natural skillset no one will ever possess but deep down, he does it all for you. He wanted you, because you are the most unattainable of all, the best for him. Oh, playing hard and yet simultaneously, easy to give in? Hot and cold and complicated... Just like his machines, oh he could definitely fix you to be purely his.

What you ask of him is vigilante by nature, necessary evil, if you may say so yourself. No harm of manipulating an eager, possessive narcissist who is always hell-bent of proving himself as the most superior. In exchange for favours from him varying from machines to information, you grant him a touch of your flesh. This is where you play the game of light switch. By giving him all the validation he craves, the touch, the sensation of releasing his carnal needs, before flicking the light switch, dropping it all together. Oh he yearns for you, more than anything and he will do anything to get you back, he will fucking kill your target just so you can pay attention to him again.

It is an exchange, in hindsight really. Just two fucked up people wanting something from each other, coming to a compromise... To Edward, you're his darling who needs his help, who appreciates him, he gives him what he wants to hear. And if your vigilantism gets in the way of giving him attention, consider it done. Once he gets a complete hold of you, he is never letting you out of his clutch. You are aware of it and know just how you can have him dangling by a string. Despite his towering figure, you still hold the leash of his collar. He was just like your very own Pavlovian dog, training him with the classic conditioning. He who barks imposingly, yet softened by the presence of his master, such an obedient dog.

In the end, it is just two shitty people using one another for their own gain.

#edward nygma #riddler x reader #dc x reader #edward nygma x reader #dc x you #edward nigma #request #arkhamverse riddler x reader #arkhamverse edward nygma x reader #CW Yandere

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 26

Mind Control - Zitao

!dom Zitao

“Focus on me.”

You do as you are told, meeting his piercing gaze with your own blurry and unfocused one. You have been over this so many times before, but it always feels different, surreal, frightening, yet like nothing at all.

“What do you see?” He asks, “Tell me.”

“You.”

“What is my name?” He asks further, “Tell me.”

“Huang Zitao.”

Zitao smiles at you and that is all that is needed to send you over the edge, to break you, everything around him disappears and it is as if nothing has ever or will ever exist except for him. Your mind is blank, only seeing and feeling and being with him, you are in the state that he has mastered putting you in.

“Good job, baobao,” He praises you, “Now, you’ll do as I say, won’t you?”

“Yes, Zitao.”

It had started out gentle, as it always did. Kissing in his home-studio, straddling him in his desk chair when you got bored of waiting for him to finish mixing his newest song. You weren’t really wearing much to begin with, but Zitao had you fully naked before starting his routine.

Hypnotic, in both his words and actions, and you succumb so easy. Forgetting who you are, forgetting where you are, and only remembering who he is, and what you are to him.

“Oh, fuck,” Zitao moans, “Deep breaths, doll, come on, relax.”

He lowers you down onto his cock, after lifting you up to put you in the right position. Everything is hazy, but it feels fucking incredible. In this state, with nothing else on your mind, you feel every inch, every vein, the blood pulsing through his thick, hard cock as he fills you to the brim, until you can’t take anymore. He doesn’t slow, hands on your ass he lifts you up to lower you again, this time a little faster, a little harsher, pathetic whimpers fall from your lips, the only word you know, Zitao.

You obey again, because of course you do, that is your purpose, that is all that you know when he has control over you like this. With not a care in the world, nor a thought, only that of the way that his cock feels inside you, filling you perfectly. Pleasure overwhelms you in a way that is indescribable, words don’t do it justice, only the slight curvature of his cock, and the harshness of his movements, the way that he fucks you like a doll, is that why he always calls you that? drives you crazy, although you don’t quite have the capacity to process that now.

With his hands under your ass to hold you, Zitao stands, and if you were any less… mind-controlled, you would have shrieked, but instead, you are calm and collected as he walks you away from the studio, stopping momentarily to thrust into you against the wall, your arms draped over his shoulders, hands clasped behind his neck all that is keeping you upright, that and your trust in him to stop you from falling.

“I said,” He growls, “Focus.”

How he could tell that your thoughts were wavering, you will never be able to figure out, but his demand brings you back, meeting his piercing gaze once more throws you right back into the midst of it, again forgetting, and remembering too. He is less gentle now, turning away from the wall, he continues to guide you up and down his length as he carries you to your bedroom, laying you flat on the mattress once there, only able to see him as he hovers over you, cock still 9 inches deep inside of you, as far as it can go.

You relax more like this, although it is intimidating, you have fully submitted and you no longer fear waking up from your state, again only here for his pleasure, though you definitely get yours too. With each thrust, Zitao moves back just enough for you to see your reflection in the mirror he has hung up on the ceiling above your bed. You, or you at least assume that is you, look blissed out, euphoric, wow, do you really look like that? but Zitao draws your attention again with a particularly hard thrust, and his hand holding your face still so that despite any involuntary movements, you cannot look away.

“Who owns you?” He asks, again with the inducing, “Tell me.”

“You do,” You reply in monotone, these words you know, these words come easily, robotic, as if they are the only words that you know, “Zitao. Huang Zitao.”

He loves that, loves the reminder, the achievement, the approval and significance of his kink, his skill in action. You feel him speed up, chasing his release, and you are sure that yours is close too, because Zitao would never let himself get there without your own, he couldn’t live with himself if he did that, oh fuck, okay, you are close, your thighs are shaking, you want to move, eyes threatening to roll back but you cannot look away.

You feel, once again, as if the world around you disappears. Everything is white, except for the man on top of you, and you don’t feel a thing, except for his weight, and his cock, as it pushes you over the edge. You cum with breathless cries of his name, of your ownership by him, of your subservience to him, of his control of you, of the way that your whole world revolves around him and him only.

It is euphoric, overwhelming and overstimulating in a way that only he could possibly make you feel, and with that, he releases too, so much that it overflows, dripping out of you even as he has more to give. He fucks you through your high and his, until you are dizzy with pleasure and so close to passing out, if it weren’t for him keeping you awake, keeping you focused, controlling every part of you, mind, soul, and body, the release was worth the effort, the strength, the trust, holy fuck, it was worth it all.

Slowing down, Zitao’s chest is heaving, and the space around you slowly begins to reappear, with your orgasm subsiding, overstimulated and exhausted, you begin to see clearly, and remember who you are.

“I’m yours.”

———

kinktober masterlist

#kinktober #kpop kinktober #cpop kinktober #cpop #cpop fanfic #cpop smut #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #zitao #Huang zitao #zitao fanfic #zitao smut #Huang zitao fanfic #Huang zitao smut #exo Tao #exo Tao fanfic #exo Tao smut #exo #exo fanfic #exo smut

[blowflyfag]

WORLD WRESTLING FEDERATION MAGAZINE : OCTOBER 1997

THE RISE AND FALL OF SHAWN MICHAELS

By Vince Russo

He had the world on a string. The ability to yo-yo the people up and down with the ease of a Duncan Imperial Master. He outright owned them.

They were hypnotized by his power… his “star” power. On the edges of their seats they anticipated his every word. If he said jump, they wouldn’t waste any time asking how high. They would simply pump up their Airs and fly through the roof of the building. His wish… was their command. He had them on a “high”. A “high” that they never wanted to come down from.

But then… he dropped them.

Whether it was deliberate or not, it didn’t even matter. He let the air out of the balloon and let it wondrously float to the ground… smashing into a million pieces. They shared his ride… while being the victims of his fall.

The date was April 1, 1996. One day earlier Shawn Michaels saw his boyhood dream become a reality when he outlasted a marathon war with Bret Hart en route to becoming the World Wrestling Federation Champion. That night we were in San Bernadino, California, just hours away from a live Monday Night RAW. Scheduled on the show was an interview with Shawn—his first since capturing the gold. Backstage, Shawn was wired! He was on an adrenaline rush! He was sitting on top of the world… and he knew it. Everything he ever wanted out of life… he now OWNED!!! Like a grade school kid who was about to give his first speech in front of a class, Shawn nervously rehearsed his “acceptance” speech to me, over and over again until it was branded in his memory. Then… it was “showtime”!

Wanting to witness this moment in Federation history with “the people”, I went into the arena and took my familiar position next to the hard camera. I’ll never forget the feeling in that building when Shawn hit the stage. The people—his people—were feeding him with a fire that was so intense that it felt like the place was going to erupt into a full-fledged inferno. I swear to you, I HAD GOOSE BUMPS!!! Like a crafty puppeteer, Shawn pulled the strings and controlled each and every one of them. Man, woman, child—it didn’t matter—feasted out of his very hands. He was their leader and they obeyed his every command.

Man, it’s so ironic. As I use the word “leader”, I realized that Shawn Michaels… never was! As badly as he wanted to be and as badly as his fans BEGGED him to be… he simply wasn’t. And in the end… this would be the downfall of the mighty superhero!

Was it his fault? Or wasn’t it? Well, you can look at that two ways. Perhaps it was because maybe Shawn Michaels was just too immature to play the role of the Pied Piper. Maybe it was all. Too much, too soon. On the other hand, maybe it wasn’t his fault at all. Maybe Shawn Michaels just wasn’t cut out to be a “leader”. We know for a fact that he has an extremely close relationship to his parents, and maybe that’s what it all stems from. Maybe he always depended on his parents to show him the way, and in their absence he let himself be led by “darker” influences. Now, I’m not a psychologist or anything, but there is a lot to be said for this theory. It’s no secret that Shawn has made a habit of following certain individuals in the wrestling business that he calls his “friends”. Some say he even continued to be influenced by his “friends” after they crossed the enemy lines. There is no doubt that these individuals had a tremendous effect on Shawn and, in this editor’s opinion… those effects served as a deadly cancer to the career of Shawn Michaels! I’ve seen Shawn at his best—and believe me he DOES possess the ability to LEAD—but whether you call it insecurity or immaturity, Shawn refuses to assume the role with any consistency… or longevity. He continues to let others take the reins, rather than pull up and take control of his own career or for that matter… his own life.

Whether you like Shawn Michaels or you despise him… either way you’ve got to feel for him. At the moment he’s a lost soul who has no idea what’s best. He might think he knows what he wants built in fact he is lost in the words of others in his ear. It seems that everybody else knows what’s best for the career of Shawn Michaels… everybody except the Heartbreak Kid himself.

As an editor who once considered Shawn Michaels a friend, all I can say is, “Shawn, find yourself the nearest mirror, and take a good long look inside. Don’t see ‘what could have been,’ when you’re about ten years too late. Your time is now, and if tnag man I. The mirror doesn’t seize his opportunity, then it will all be gone before you even had a chance. When, or if, that time ever comes… believe me… you will be riding that storm out ALONE.”

#I fucking hate how Vince Russo writes #also hate Vince Russo but that’s another story. #wwf #shawn michaels #world wrestling federation #heartbreak kid #wwf magazine scan #magazine scan #magazine transcript

[owned412]

Carpet part 3

I had told chris not to do it, to stay away from him, but I couldn’t stop him. He had been controlled to much in recent years. I gave him a kiss before he went to confront Scott, maybe to remind him of what was waiting for him back home. But that was 4 days ago now. And chris was back there under Scott’s feet again. I knew this because after half a day of chris being missing I received a text.

Chris was on his knees, a cock down his throat, and staring into the camera. The message just read “suprise”

The pictures kept coming, Chris choking on a foot, lovingly making out with the same foot, a full profile shot of him getting fucked into the ground on some old trashy rug. The final show was just chris, spread out on the ground, with his ass up, showing a battered hole.

The pictures haunted me, in everyone his stare seemed so….empty. His eyes were almost dead, save for a primal lust or fear that tinged them. I finally understood what Chris meant when we said he would just….obey. Like that prick could just turn off his autonomy.

I wanted to call the cops, to storm over there myself, but I don’t know where he was. I was an idiot and never asked, maybe hoping to just keep him out of chris’ mind. But now he was stuck there, being abused and I had been trapped.

However that wasn’t good enough for “Master Fagbreaker.” His last message sent me a link, to tumblr of all places. It said “follow every post and when you find the password. DM me and you can have him back.”

It was sick but…I had no choice. I already had a tumblr, I too had my own perversions I used to indulge and it didn’t take much time to find Scott. He had been busy, documenting the full break down of my boyfriend into nothing.

Chris was shaved and denuded, with Scott taking the time to slap him around and fuck his throat some more.

He was locked up in an ever smaller cage, Scott shrunk his raging hard on with the cold touch of an ice pack. After it was on he kicked him in the balls, and then made him beg for more.

It was like to used to get off too and part of me still did, leading to more self incriminations.

After the “faggot” was hairless, caged, and collared again, Scott went to town. Fucking him on a couch, facing out the window, making him chant “this Faggot is worthless” over and over again. Another video he simply made him bounce up and down on a dildo and stare into the camera, his locked up cock bouncing with it.

Later images simply had chris nuzzle up to Scott’s pits, moaning and breathing in saying how much he loved him and was sorry. The verbal parts repulsed me but the pits…..well I loved pits. Before I knew chris after I’d go to the gym and few guys would let me worship their pits and, after enough times, I might have turned out like chris. I didn’t though and chris was hot but not for his pits. I pushed the image out of my mind and continued.

The images got darker from there, chris getting his balls slapped and being made to beg for more, chris on a dildo again but with 3 shock collars on, both gyrating and moaning in between jerking in pain. Eventually Scott decided it was time to make a party of it, and the gang rape began.

I couldn’t see all of them but I counted at least 5 or 6 men other then Him, taking time to beat him, face fuck him, or “rail that faggot pussy”. One shot that got to me had chris getting fucked out of his mind while an offscreen man pushed his foot onto chris’ face, who worshiped and moaned. That foot would wind back and kick him multiple times but chris never stopped.

At the end of that last series the last picture was just chris, beaten, sweaty, and crumpled on the ground amongst a forest of male feet, ass arched up still, and over all of this was the phrase “Please Master let me come”

After days of this, watching the love of my life get mauled, I had the key and I entered the dms of this monster. I sent the key and said who I was.

“Send me a picture of You and faggot together” the message came back

I wanted to argue, to defend him, but I had to save him so I played along. Sending a picture from our 2nd date.

“Sweet picture, me and the faggot just finished our date too”

“Go fuck yourself,” I said in the messages, “tell me where he is.”

Nothing came back at first and then he said, “you come on my terms, you do me a favor and you can have the faggot back. Get that?”

“Sure” I sent back and he sent the address. I rushed there.

Knocking on the door, I stood there and waited. Nothing happened for a few moments until the door opened, revealing Scott shirtless and sweating.

“Just finished working out,” he said and smirked at me. He smelled good….fuckin really good. I ignored that thought and said, “where is chris?”

Scott gestured me in and took a seat at the couch. I just stood there, standing on the carpet I had watched my boyfriend get fucked by this man. He gestured for me to come and when i didn’t he said, “sit down, remember this is on MY terms.”

I complied sittings few feet away from him. he stretched out his arms, exposing those pits again.

“Where is chris,” I repeated and Scott answered simply, “in its box, the fag is resting. It’s had a hard training time.”

“I wanna see him,” I demanded and he reached with one arm and handed me a small controller.

“Press that and the fag will get shocked, then it’ll come crawling.” I didnt press the button, I would never do anything like that. He shrugged and said, “so did you appreciate the content?”

I glowered at him and he snickered, “oh come on man, I saw your blog. Old content maybe but you were a nasty bitch back then. You can hate me and still be honest.”

“You’re an abuser,” I said, “whatever fantasies I’ve had ever, they are nothing like this.”

He gave me a smug look and said, “we shall see.” I glared at him suspiciously and he continued, “I want a favor and it’s a simple favor. I get you for a few hours and after that’s done. If you want your little boytoy back, then fair enough.”

I sat back, shocked and concerned, “you want….me?” He looked at me and laughed, “and why not, you’ve got a hot body and good cock. The fag is fully broken and in, as you’ve seen. But I could enjoy you. And I bet you would too. I’m not gonna beat you or torture you, unless you want. I want to make you feel good.”

This was a trap, I knew that, but for Chris I had to. I had to, I just told myself. I nodded silently and said, “okay”

Scott smiled like a hyena and said, “good.” He pulled out a bottle of poppers and poured some on a bandana and handed them to me.

“In your mouth,” he said calmly and I hesitated. “Now,” he said more forcefully, “your a strong man not some fag. It’ll be good just do it.” And I did. The poppers started to swirl in my brain as Scott exposed his nearest pit, the smell just so fucking good. Poppered up and complying I came in closer and then Scott grabbed my head and forced it into his pits. The smell was overwhelming, so masculine, so powerful and that plus the poppers made me moan, like chris had so many times.

“That’s right boy,” sneered Scott in my ear, “I did my research, just stay in there and worship my fuckin pits.”

I did, for chris I guess. I rubbed my face in his delicious body and, instinctually started to grind on his leg, in between my 2 own.

“That’s right faggot,” he said, “don’t fight it, that fag can’t give you what you need. I can. No more thinking about cleaning the sweat off a Man after a workout, you can do that everyday with Me.” I moaned and started to thrust faster against his leg. I was so caught up in it that when I felt my pants being pulled down behind me, I almost jumped.

Scott caught my head and pulled me back in, me breathing in deeper and offering my ass up without thinking. A tongue started probing my hole, deeply and desperately. Lost in my pit-drunk stupor, I knew it was chris. Only he was so good at eating my hole. I offered my hole and more and chris complied, all while Scott oversaw all of this with his hand on the back of my head.

Suddenly he pulled my head back and looked me in the eyes, his intense stare boring into my soul. Hands holding my hair, he put the bottle under my nose and I inhaled, not sure why I did so easily.

The swirling fog of poppers crushed my brain, compounded by the faggit eating my hole at this MANS orders. He shoved me back into the pit.

“Lick faggot” he said and I did, licking, tasting and worshiping this delicious man while the faggot behind me pryed my hole open. Then it got worse as I felt to hands come up and grab my tits and start to work them carefully. I moaned like a bitch in heat, overwhelmed by all the sensations.

Scott grabbed my hair again and pulled me up, looking me in the unfocused eyes, “I know all of your weaknesses,” he said as his faggot cleaned out my hole and tweaked my nipples, “I can exploit them all day, all weekend, as long as I want.”

I couldn’t respond only softly moan out whatever pathetic last bit resistance I had left. He laughed and held out the bottle again. “Hit this again and you can have the other pit, but then you’ll suck my cock, and then I’ll fuck that tight hole of yours. You let me do this and you’ll be just another faggot.” He held out the bottle just out of reach and said, “do it faggot.” I did, it felt so good I just wanted more. After hitting it deeply again, he tightened the grip on my hair and looked me in the eyes, “I am Master Fagbreaker and You are a faggot.”

I responded mechanically, “You are Master Fagbreaker and I am a faggot.”

“Then it’s time to break you faggot,” he said and pulled me into his other pit. The sensation, the feeling of totally submitting, the thought of every horrible picture I had to watch being done again with me, all of it filled me up and made me feel something I hadn’t felt in years. I desperately breathed in Masters pit, hungrily humiliating myself for HIM. all the while the other faggot fondled my tits harder and harder while eating my ass….no my faggot pussy.

“When faggot A is done,” Master fagbreaker said in my ear, “Master is gonna fuck its new slave until it totally forgets who it was. You wanted your boy back, well guess what you got it and a new Master.” I grinder harder into nothing, impotently struggling for some release I would never get.

master pulled me out of his pit and without warning, forced me onto his crotch. That smelled too and it smelled so powerful. I started to rut again and the tongue left to be replaced by a finger and then 2. My faggot boyfriend finger fucked me as I worshiped the crotch of Master, who finally deigned to unzip his pants and free His cock. Hand still on my hair, he pulled me down all the way, forcing me to Gag and struggle, as my ex boyfriend finger fucked me.

my gag reflex was terrible, but Master seemed to enjoy it, especially as his other faggot continued to finger fuck my faggot pussy. I pictured myself, hairless, locked, and getting spit roasted like faggot A had been. i was so hot, so fucked, and so dazed that i was finally honest, i was jealous.

master pulled my head off His cock and slapped me, “This faggot can’t suck cock for shit apparently. But that’s fine. I’ll enjoy breaking in that throat. He got up and yanked me by the hair, pulling me off the couch as I whimpered. He jerked his head at faggot A who promptly sat back on the couch and out its legs up, pussy exposed. master pushed me on top of faggot A, the person i had loved, and he kicked my legs apart, exposing my faggot pussy.

“Now im gonna fuck that hole into a pussy,” Master said, “You faggots chant as you should. Teach our new faggot the lesson.”

Chris….faggot A looked me in the eyes, not blank like I thought but just totally obedient, and just said, “faggots obey.”

I looked him in the eyes as i felt the man who called himself Master square up to fuck me into submission. I could go, i could leave, I didn’t have to do this. But as Master pushed his cock into my pussy, Faggot A just repeated the Mantra, “faggots obey,” and I knew I couldn’t.

“FAGGOTS OBEY,” I said my eyes fixed on the broken slave I couldn’t fix. The man who broke him shoved his cock into my pussy and proceeded to break me. “FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY, FAGGOTS OBEY,” we chanted together, Master whooping and cackling at His conquest.

I was a faggot, faggots were meant to be broken. As Master picked up the pace, slamming his cock into my pussy over and over again I knew this was right. this was right and it would only ever be right if Master continued to break this faggot.

Masters thrusts intensified and he grabbed my hair again, yanking my head back. Still thrusting, he placed the poppers under my nose and i breathed in and kept breathing until i was told to stop. Pleasure and pain stopped meaning anything and as the only that mantra remained in my brain Master slammed his cock in one last time and claimed

My faggot pussy as his.

He pulled out of my ruined hole, hand still holding my hair, and threw me off

The couch and onto the floor, looking up i saw Master loom over me and look down in contempt.

“So faggot, what’s it gonna be?”

I didn’t say anything, I couldn’t, I just opened my mouth and looked at my new Master.

Master smirked and pulled out his phone, I stared into the camera as my fellow slave had. I would turn over all my info, even if I refused Master could make me. He could make me do anything. He snapped a picture and smirked one last time.

“The boys are gonna love you faggot.”

#forced faggot #faggot humiliation #alpha master #bd/sm master #dominated slave

[jinx-on-mars-19xx]

Taste Like the Sea

⚔️ All Previous Parts Here ⚔️

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: future ABO, slick, viking Col, fae Dom, body exploration, accidental humping?, needy boys, biting/marking, clothed cumming, slow burn, Col in denial, teasing sexism, mentioned violence, threats to leash and whip, ownership, cum play/tasting ☠️ Rating: mature/explicit (enjoy this cause it's probably going back to no touching for a while)

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤☠️🖤

Damhnaic watched with almost tired eyes as his friend moved around the room. His belly was full of food and it pushed him right to the edge of sleep. If anything he was just being lazy but he was used to sunbathing on sand or rocks after a meal. He and his pack would catch fish until they were full and then lounge together. He couldn't understand how the man was up and moving about so soon after eating. The thought made his stomach turn and he curled tighter around himself, rubbing his cheek against his own fur where it had soaked in the leader's scent and body heat.

Kol'son had thought to clean his room and leave it for the boy even though that was far from normal. No thrall had their own space and he knew he was treating Dom special. He tried not to stare at the boy as he put his things away but the kid was precious. The almost sheer wrap he'd given him was resting over his legs and it left his stomach and chest bare to his hungry gaze. He shouldn't be so enticed by the possible ex-cannibal, he'd never been drawn in by innocence before. Or a male form for that matter. He was almost relieved having seen his slave's cunt, at least it explained his attachment. There was nothing wrong with getting pleasure from or loving whomever you liked but he had never looked twice at a man before. Not that it was of any consequence, he wasn't going to take his purity.

"Careful." Dom tried to warn his new friend. Kol was so in his own head he almost tripped over a chest on the floor but he stopped in his tracks and looked over to the selkie.

When the boy grinned at him lazily he huffed softly, his stomach flipping with nerves. He dropped what was in his hold, getting everything into the chest before he took a seat next to the boy. "Funny don't you think? Have you ever seen a king work while his thrall lazed about like a pup?" He teased, laughing when those dark lips pouted up at him.

"Guess it depends wha' kind of fhrall I am. If you keeping me for bed 'en yeah, fink it's normal. But no one should move after eating. Come, lay wiv me and see 'ow much better it feels." He reached for the chieftain's large palm and tugged at him until the man chuckled and obeyed. As he curled his long body around the fae Dom felt that heat between his thighs again and his breath came faster.

Kol couldn't help but grin as he got comfortable behind the boy until he realized the kid was so wet it was drenched into the cloth between them. His jaw clenched so hard he thought he heard something pop but the scent was both relaxing and intoxicating. More than anything he wanted to bury his face there and drink the ambrosia straight from the source. "You ain't relaxed." Damhnaic grumbled and wiggled back against the man- ass first. The leader cursed under his breath and strong fingers gripped tight at his hip. "Oh-"

"Don't." The human tried to command but it came out too soft. He couldn't be angry at the sweet kid. He probably didn't understand.

"Why?" He knew he was being whiny and was all but ignoring his so-called master but he shifted back anyway and gasped when he felt his friend's cock hard and pulsing against him through their clothing. "It's alright. Jus' relax." The boy whispered, his plush bottom lip rolling between his sharp teeth. He knew he should be careful and not anger the Viking but he felt as if he couldn't control his own body. There was a tingling at his core he couldn't completely understand and in his half asleep state of mind it felt like a herculean effort not to rock his hips ever so softly.

Kol groaned. He didn't think the kid even knew what he was doing. He could remember being innocent and humping things without thinking like any beast of the land. Thankfully his aunt had caught him before he embarrassed his family name by playing with himself in front of the wrong person but he could still remember the wonderment of exploring his own body. Of course eventually he knew, before long his uncle was sending girls to his bed to take care of him and it no longer felt pure or as fun. Sex was… good he supposed but there was something more exciting about those early explorations of pleasure and he assumed that was what the boy was doing. Discovering himself and using Kol as a toy. He was surprised at how much he didn't mind, something about it brought back those old feelings of desperate need. Dom was special obviously and it made him feel young again.

Of course he knew logically he wasn't very old but he had become a man the day he was told of his father's death and he had to take his place as the new chieftain. That had been almost a decade before and he felt like such an old soul so much of the time. He felt tired. But as the boy wriggled his ass and cunt against the length of his cock he felt that desperate need build in his belly. Dom was something he could easily get addicted to. His fingers tightened over the kid's hip and he couldn't help but think how child bearing they appeared and the thought made him choke. "Do you- do- can you- fuck-" He tried to ask but there was no gentle way to ask. He wasn't used to being polite or cordial, he said what he wanted whenever. "Does it work?"

Damhnaic whimpered and tried to turn his head up to the man, he could feel sweat breaking out over his skin and there was a knot in his stomach that just kept pulling tighter. The trickle between his thighs was turning to a river but he tried to focus. "Wha'?"

"Your cunt. Do you- can you- breed?" Kol cursed himself mentally, he didn't need to know. The thrall was his but he already vowed not to take his innocence. This act didn't count, it wasn't sexual for the boy he was just following what his body told him to do. He wouldn't let it go too far.

"Oh um… fink so. Mum said." The selkie felt his cheeks go pink. He was surprised at what his master was allowing him but he physically didn't think he could stop. The chieftain would have to pry him off, he was too needy.

Kol'son swallowed hard and nodded, his dick jerking in his pants as the boy lost his rhythm. The next question slipped out unbidden but he was focusing all his control on not pulling his cock free and bedding the newcomer. He could only do so much. "So you bleed?" It was less about the fact that he liked it and more that he was trying to gauge his thrall's age and how much of him was actually a female. Maybe he was just a masculine girl?

"No-" Dom whined back, whatever his body was chasing he wasn't finding it, or at least he couldn't seem to unlock that last step. He didn't completely understand the question, he didn't even know enough about his own kind, and truly all he could think was how they fit together so perfectly.

"Fuck." Kol was almost lost. He kept trying to tell himself perhaps the boy's body just worked differently but there was something tickling the back of his mind. The kid felt magic. The boy was special.

"'Urts. Need-"

"I know." He couldn't tell Dom to turn around. He knew he could help him reach that peak if their dicks were pressed together but if he helped in any way he would no longer just be the boy's tool for pleasure. He wouldn't stop him but he couldn't take the kid. He just couldn't ruin that innocence. Not when he owned him. Not when Dom was his fucking property.

A knock sounded at the door and it startled the selkie enough he pushed back hard and so many things happened all at once. The human cursed, his grip getting tighter and his hips bucked rough, his blunt teeth biting at Dom's shoulder. He made a noise that had the fae's stomach aching with need and Kol's length jerked against his ass. Whoever knocked just let themselves in though and when an older woman appeared Damhnaic whined. "I see you're making sure your thrall feels welcome."

Kol growled low and forced himself to back away from the kid. He hoped he moved soon enough that Dom wouldn't catch the stain on his clothes, he'd meant to let the boy find pleasure and yet he was quite sure he was the only one who found release. He hadn't done that since before he started fucking the bed thralls. Of course Dom made him feel that good though. Of fucking course. Gods what had he gotten himself into? "Dom, this is Inga, my aunt. She'll help with whatever you need."

With a new scent in the air that Dom was sure was his master's pleasure and his cock so hard it hurt the boy couldn't help but huff- "I fucking doubt it."

Kol laughed, patting Damhnaic's plump ass but they'd both gotten so messy his palm came away wet. "Feilan I see you're getting to know the boy." Inga loved to tease her nephew and someone had to keep him in line but just watching them she knew this boy would bring trouble and happiness to her kin. She just hoped it was more the latter than the former. "I thought the girls and I would help him dress for tonight and perhaps show him around a little?"

The thought of being without Kol instantly worried Dom. He couldn't leave him. He was the only human here he felt truly safe with no matter how nice the woman seemed. "Give us a little longer please?" Thankfully his friend spoke up and the boy turned to burrow against his side. Kol was too blissed out he didn't have time to cover himself and the kid's thigh pressed against his dick. He was far too sensitive but he tried not to pull away. He didn't want his new thrall to feel cast aside or unwanted. The door closed again, a soft laugh the only answer she gave but Dom didn't care. He just wanted to be held.

"Is tha' all from me? I'm so sorry!" The boy squeaked, his voice still panting and high. The chieftain could feel Dom's cock still hard but maybe he hadn't brought himself pleasure before? Perhaps he really didn't understand what to do? He had to slam his eyes closed and clamp his jaw shut for a moment. He was too overwhelmed by the thought. If only he would let himself take care of the boy he could show him so much but… he shouldn't. Dom deserved better.

"It's not. It's definitely not." He soothed, his own cheeks flushing as he curled an arm around the boy and held him close. He knew they'd have to separate soon, he had other things he had to take care of and he cursed himself for letting it go so far. He'd meant to talk. He really had.

"No?" Jade eyes looked almost gold as Dom stared up at him. "Wha' is it Kols?"

When trembling fingers brushed the front of his pants Kol'son jumped and tried not to whine. How could he answer without saying too much? "You made me feel good." He finally sighed simply, his fingertips tracing soft lines over the kid's cool wet skin.

Dom knew enough to understand a little. He'd watched the humans mate before but he could tell his questions and wonderment excited the man. He wasn't playing dumb exactly, he didn't know the name for it or anything, but if his wide eyes and soft pout drew the chieftain closer he would do anything he thought he might like. "You make me wet. I made you wet too?"

Kol'son was glad no one but his thrall could hear the broken noise that escaped him at that question. He had never made it before and he hoped not to make it again but gods above… he thought for a moment his heart would explode from his chest. "Fuck. Um… you make me wet, yeah. It's different but yes."

"Can I see?"

"Holy shit. Um- I-" While he was stuttering soft fingers tucked in the front of his clothes and tugged them away from his inked abs. Insolent boy, he didn't wait for an answer. "I could whip you for that."

"Will you?"

"Fuck. N-not yet." One finger circled the head of his cock before the boy pulled away and sucked his finger clean. He supposed it was only fair, he'd tasted Dom. This couldn't keep happening though. He had to be more careful.

"Mmm, you taste like the sea." With that soft whimper Kol almost broke and kissed him but he knew he couldn't. He shouldn't. He needed to get up and leave the boy to his aunt.

"There's a feast tonight. Listen to whatever she tells you to do but I want you to stay close to me." He wouldn't shut down and pull away, he didn't want to scare the kid but he did try and change the subject. He couldn't imagine the hormones the boy must feel and if he'd never felt safe or attached to someone then the man wasn't surprised how quickly he latched on. He'd have to be more careful. "Can you actually be a good boy for me or should I find a chain?" He huffed, surprised at the soft whimper from the boy. Maybe he wasn't as sweet and innocent as he appeared.

"Wha'ever ya want Kols. I'll be good." The twinkle in his eyes made the man question how true it was but he could only find out by test and trial. He just hoped before long he could decide what to do with the runaway that wasn't… what they'd just done. He was sure Inga could help though, she read people far better than he could.

Author's Note/Tags: @manicpixiedreamb0y @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @cole-way-iero28 @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🖤

I thought they could play a little but obviously Kol is already in denial and saying not again so I hope you enjoyed this because I think it'll go back to a slow burn again for a while. Dom is definitely a little nymph though 😂 Hope this was good, I'm pretty tired and spacey today so I worry but I wanted to get something out ☠️🖤

#yungblud #dominic harrison #dom harrison #machine gun kelly #mgk #colson baker #dom and colson #dom and colson fic #dom x colson #dom x colson fic #yungblud and machine gun kelly #yungblud and machine gun kelly fic #yungblud x machine gun kelly #yungblud x machine gun kelly fic #com #domson #com fics #my fics #jinx fics #abo #slick #needy boys #biting/marking