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serpentandlily · 7 months

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Wicked Games

Dark!Batboys x Reader

Summary: Desperate to pay off a debt, you decide to break into the penthouse of one of Prythian’s richest males, one rumored to make his money in a less than legal way. But after witnessing something you weren’t supposed to, you find yourself caught in a wicked game of cat and mouse with three of the most dangerous males in Prythian. (Modern AU!)

Warnings: Violence, dark themes (will update per chapter)

Part II

Part I

༺♥༻

It had been too easy sneaking in through the back door of The Sidra, a huge building filled with luxury apartments only the top one-percent could afford. Too easy sneaking into the laundry rooms downstairs and finding a freshly cleaned maid’s uniform. And too easy convincing one of the maids on duty into believing you were a newly hired employee.

It wasn’t hard to play the role. You had worked as a cleaning lady before—at a motel when you were only sixteen. So it wasn’t long before she was dropping a keychain filled with master keys for each floor into the pocket of your apron and pushing a cleaning cart into your hands.

Before you knew it, you had an access card to the elevators in one pocket and those all too important keys in the other. You waited until no one else was near the elevators before slipping into one and immediately pressing the button that would take you to the penthouse.

According to your sources, aka one of your exes, one of the richest males in Prythian lived in that penthouse. A male who was rumored to make his money in a…less than legal way. And if you knew anything about those types, you knew they’d have cash stuffed into just about every hidden crevice of that apartment. Because that kind of dirty money never made it into banks.

You had tried to do some research on who was living here but it seemed like he was a rather elusive male. All you could find was a first name, Rhysand—and that he had ties to Velaris, the illustrious night club downtown.

It didn’t matter though. All that mattered was getting into this penthouse, finding his hidden stacks of cash and getting the hell out of here. You needed this money and this guy was rich enough that you doubted he’d even notice a measly six grand missing from his piles of cash.

But that six grand meant life or death for you. Because you needed to pay off the debt you owe your ex. You knew his patience with you was slipping and you were worried that for once he’d actually go through with his threats.

The elevator dinged, signaling you had made it to your destination. You stepped out of the elevator, leaving the cleaning cart behind, and found yourself in a grand corridor. There was only one direction to go, only one set of large double doors up here.

You knocked once. Twice. A third time. No answer, no noise, nothing. You thanked God for your luck today as you fumbled with your ring of master keys, trying to figure out which one worked for this door.

It took you longer than you liked but soon you were pushing the doors open and making your way into the insanely large penthouse. Your jaw dropped as you took in the place, envy crawling up your skin like thorny vines.

This place was…incredible. It was opulent, full of expensive looking furniture and high-tech electronics. You spun around, taking in everything. Jesus, the sitting area alone was larger than your own studio apartment. Everything looked so ornate and for this being the supposed bachelor pad for one of Prythian’s richest males, you were surprised by how elegant it all was.

But you quickly snapped yourself out of your admiration. You had a job to do. Find the money you needed and get out of here before someone returned. You checked the usual spots for hidden safes—behind paintings, where medicine cabinets should be, in closets. You cursed as you found nothing out of place.

That was until you stumbled upon a large painting of three mountaintops with a star painted above each in the master bedroom. It was incredibly heavy, but you managed to get it off the wall and nearly let out a squeal of joy when you caught sight of the safe built into the wall. You pulled out the small electronic stethoscope that you had found at a pawn shop years ago and got to work with cracking the safe.

It was one of the skills your ex had taught you. A skill that had come in handy quite a few times. And you were particularly good at this part. So good that you had the safe opened within the hour. Your jaw dropped as the door clicked open and revealed piles and piles of cash, some gems and gold chains. You were half tempted to take it all but restrained yourself.

Just enough. You needed to take just enough to pay off your debt…and maybe some extra for rent this month. Just to get you back on track with your payments. Still, just a small amount that hopefully would go unnoticed. You opened the satchel you had hidden under the maid apron and started tossing stacks into your bag.

Once you were certain you had enough, you closed the safe and went through the strenuous process of hanging the large painting back up on the wall. You were sweating a bit as you finished, wiping your clammy hands on the apron.

Now all you had to do was get the fuck out of here. You could not believe your luck as you made your way back to the front door. Could not believe that everything had gone exactly to plan.

Which is why you shouldn’t have been surprised at the sound of a key unlocking the front door. Of course it wouldn’t have been that easy. Fuck. You looked around quickly, spotting a closet in the hallway and managed to slid yourself into it right as the front doors opened. You held your breath as three large men came walking in, the two in the back lugging in another person whose head was covered with a burlap sack.

Your eyes widened as you took in the scene, your heart beginning to pound in your chest. The male who led the group forward was one of the most handsome males you had ever seen. He was wearing a finely tailored suit, his tie loosened around his neck. His hair was short, a dark blue-black color which suited his golden skin.

The two guys holding up their captive were equally attractive, if not more. One was huge, taller than the other two, with muscles cut from stone like a God. He had shoulder length dark brown hair that had been pulled into a bun and wore black pants and a white button-up shirt with his sleeves folded up to his elbows, exposing his veiny forearms.

The other male was just straight up beautiful. His features were more elegant than the other two, as if a romantic artist had spent their whole life carefully crafting him out of clay. He also had dark brown hair, cut short like the first guy, and golden skin that matched the other two. His face was expressionless, unreadable, and that made him look all the more lethal.

The two guys dropped the captive to his knees and yanked the burlap sack off his head. You nearly gasped in surprise as you recognized him. He was known widely in the criminal world as “The Attor.” He was a slimy looking male who used all sorts of weird torture methods to get his victims to talk. Last you heard of him, he was working with Hybern, one of the many gang leaders in Prythian.

“Are you going to talk now?” The male in the suit purred. He sat down in one of the plush armchairs, resting his ankle over a knee. He held an air of authority and you guessed that he was the leader here.

“Fuck you, Rhysand,” The Attor spat, wiggling to try and break free of his bonds.

Ah, so this was the famed Rhysand. You had expected someone older, someone maybe in their fifties. But this guy couldn’t be older than thirty. And god, he was so hot. Most criminals were ugly, aging men. Nothing like the handsome devil who sat in his chair like it was a throne.

Rhysand merely chuckled before running a finger down the armrest of his chair. “Tell us what Hybern’s planning and I might just decide to let you leave with your life.”

But The Attor just spat at his feet. “You and I both know I’ve been a dead man since your dogs caught me.”

The lethal looking male snarled at that. The noise was so animalistic, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re right, you have been,” Rhysand answered with amusement. “And now I tire of our games.” He nodded at the male who had snarled. “Kill him,” he ordered.

Before you could even process those words, the man yanked a blade out of his pocket and swiftly stabbed it straight through The Attor’s throat. A small gasp escaped your mouth as red blood sputtered out of the wound and the man slumped to the ground, his eyes glazing over. You quickly slammed a hand over your mouth, praying to God that they hadn’t heard your slip-up. But you had never seen someone killed before. You had only ever dealt with petty criminals, mostly thieves.

“Did you hear that?” The one built like a God asked, his eyes narrowing as they swept over the place.

You smothered yourself further with your hand, pressing your body against the wall of the closet—as far from the door as you could get.

“I did,” the lethal one answered, yanking his dagger from the dead man’s neck and wiping it clean on his clothes before returning it to his own pocket.

“Who’s here?” Rhysand called out, standing up.

The other two began to search through the room, their footsteps surprisingly silent. You squeezed your eyes shut and sank onto the floor, praying and praying that they wouldn’t look in the closet, that they wouldn’t find you. As a few moments passed, you were beginning to grow hopeful.

But then the closet doors were yanked open and you were being pulled out by your upper arms. You let out a small cry as you opened your eyes to see the lethal one staring down at you, his face impassive as he dragged you into the sitting room and tossed you onto the floor next to the dead man’s body.

You let out a whimper, your apron soaking up some of the blood on the floor.

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves an intruder,” he called out, gaining the attention of the other two who returned from wherever they had been searching.

Rhysand stepped forward, looking down at you in surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected to find one of the maids hiding in his closet. Your whole body tensed as the corners of his lips ticked up. This close now, you could see the unusual color of his eyes, a rich shade of blue that almost looked violet.

“Well what do we have here?” His voice was so sensual, bringing color to your cheeks. “What a pretty little mouse you’ve caught, Az.”

“I’d say so,” the other one smirked, his eyes roaming your face. But you kept your attention on the leader.

“I-I’m sorry, sir. I was cleaning in the bedroom when I heard the ruckus and…I swear I won’t tell anyone what I saw. I’m sorry. Please, just let me go,” you pleaded, quivering under his amused stare.

“That’s odd,” he said, tilting his head at you. “I didn’t schedule any cleaning services today.”

You blinked, trying to come up with another lie. “I-I’m a new hire, sir. I only d-did as I was told.”

He stroked his jaw, glancing at the other two men who stood behind you. “Interesting. You know, I didn’t happen to see any cleaning supplies when I was looking around just now. Did you two see any during your search?”

“Nope,” the bigger one chimed. You could hear the smile in his voice. The other one must’ve shaken his head because Rhysand looked back down at you.

“I-I…” you choked on your own words. Fuck, how were you going to get yourself out of this one? You were screwed. So fucking screwed. You were going to die right here just like the man next to you.

Rhysand stepped forward before bending down on his haunches in front of you. A pathetic whimper fell from your lips as you backed away, only to run into a pair of legs. You gulped, looking up to see the pretty one staring down at you, that unfeeling face sent another shiver through your body.

“You’re not a maid, are you, little mouse?” Rhysand purred, reaching a gloved hand out to brush some hair from your face. You were shaking like a leaf now, as you found yourself surrounded by three dangerous males.

Fuck, you were going to die. All twenty-one years of your life wasted just to die here, likely never to be found. Not that anyone would be looking for you or miss you. You had grown up in foster care, never knowing who your parents were.

“I-I am,” you lied. “I swear it.”

Rhysand clicked his tongue, giving you a mocking frown. “What a pretty little liar you are. I don’t like liars, little mouse. Do you know what I like to do to the people who lie to me?”

You shook your head, not able to form any words. He gave you a wolfish grin and pointed a finger at the dead body on the ground, blood still oozing from the wound on his neck. You whimpered again, a few pathetic tears now slipping from your eyes.

“Oh, don’t cry, pretty girl,” Rhysand purred. “It would be a waste to kill a little thing like you. Don’t you agree?”

Your head was spinning now.

“What…what do you want from me?” Your voice shook, making you feel even more pathetic. Rhysand smiled again but it was not reassuring—more like a predator showing off its sharp teeth.

He glanced up at the other two. “What do you guys think? Should we let this little mouse go or should we punish her for her trespassing?”

“We don’t even know what she’s here for yet,” the pretty one said. His voice was as dark as him and just as cold.

You used this time to glance towards the front door, noting how far away it was. You could make a break for it. You were a fast runner and you had the advantage of being smaller and more agile than them.

It could go horrible but you had to try. You had to try and get out of here before they did whatever it was they wanted to you. You would only have one shot, one chance.

Before any of them could notice you plotting, you scooped a handful of blood from the floor and flicked it into Rhysand’s face. He let out a noise of surprise and you used the distraction to slip between the other two and dart towards the door.

You could hear their yells from behind you but didn’t look back as you yanked the door open and sprinted into the hallway. You bypassed the elevators and slammed into the stairway.

You could hear footsteps running behind you and you pushed yourself to run faster, hopping over railings to other floors when you could. You burst through the door leading into one of the other floors and sprinted down the hallway.

A man was leaving his apartment, his eyes glued to the phone in his hand. You pushed him out of your way and slipped into the open door, ignoring his curse from behind you. You ran into the bedroom, darting for the window.

You let out a small cry of relief when you noticed it was connected to a fire escape. You quickly pushed it open and flung yourself through the window, landing with a thud on the metal landing.

You didn’t waste any time climbing down the ladders from landing to landing. You had made decent progress by the time one of the males had figured out where you had gone. The metal fire escape rattled with both of your weights now on it, but you continued climbing down until you reached the bottom.

As soon as you landed on the ground, you took off down an alleyway—twisting and turning down different paths, trying to keep them off your trail. Unlike those rich pricks, you knew the underside of this city like the back of your hand.

As soon as you were confident you had lost them, you found a spot in the shadows to rip the maid uniform off. You tossed it on the ground and quickly got dressed back into the clothes you had brought in your bag.

Once you had pulled on the jeans and jacket, you tossed the hood up and slung your bag back over your shoulder. This time you made your way to a busy street, hoping to get lost in the crowd.

You didn’t let out a breath of relief until you were on the subway, on the line that would take you back to your neighborhood where your shitty apartment would be waiting for you.

You bit your lip, unzipping your bag to make sure all the money you had stolen was accounted for. You finally let out a breath and rested your head against the cold wall of the subway cart.

You had fucking done it. You had stolen from one of the richest men in Prythian and gotten away with it.

༺♥༻

“This is only six grand, bunny,” your ex, Tamlin, said with a small frown. “Where’s the rest?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean? I owed you six grand, right? That’s what you said. It’s all there.”

“Oh, bunny, you owed me six grand last week,” Tamlin replied, pushing some of his blonde hair away from his face as he looked up at you. You bounced from one foot to the other, standing in front of his desk. “It’s seven thousand, five hundred now—you know, because of interest.”

“What?” You breathed out. “You never mentioned anything about interest!”

Tamlin chuckled, sitting back in his chair. “I did. You must’ve not understood. It’s okay, bunny, not all of us can be smart. It’s a good thing you’ve got that pretty face of yours to get by. But I’ll take this for now. I’ll need the rest by next week, though. And it’ll be an extra one thousand, eight hundred seventy five by then.”

“You can’t be serious! Tam, I—do you know what it took to get that money! Please, I’m begging you. Can’t this be it? An extra thousand dollars is nothing but petty cash to you. Please.”

“I don’t think so, bunny,” Tamlin responded with a mockingly sad voice. “You see, you lost those kinds of privileges when you broke up with me. I could’ve taken care of all of this for you but you’re the one who wanted to cut ties. So now you have to play by the same rules as everyone else.”

“This is ridiculous, please,” you begged. You were willing to get on your knees at this point. All you wanted was to be done with this—done with him. “I can barely afford rent. Barely feed myself. I won’t be able to get you another grand by next week.”

“That stopped being my problem a long time ago, bunny,” Tamlin said, all niceties gone from his voice now as he stood from his desk, placing his palms flat against the surface. “Get the money to me by next week. I’d hate to see that pretty little face of yours ruined. Do you understand?”

You scoffed but Hart, one of his guards, took a step closer to you, so you swallowed your pride, ignored the tears building in your eyes, and nodded your head. You quickly left the room, made a quick exit from the warehouse and started the long walk back to your apartment.

How the hell were you going to get more money for him? He was doing this on purpose, still upset with you for breaking up with him. You wiped at the angry tears spilling down your face. Would you ever be able to pay him off? Would you ever be able to get rid of his presence in your life?

You kicked at the loose concrete pebbles on the ground as you made your way home. You kept your hood on, head ducked towards the ground to avoid any unwanted attention. Now that you no longer had Tamlin’s protection, the men in this neighborhood had gotten rowdier with you.

Once you reached your apartment building, you took two stairs at a time to get to the fourth floor, wincing as you heard Marcus yelling at his wife again for the third time today. You wished she’d put a kitchen knife through his gut and do your whole neighborhood a favor.

You pulled your cheap, burner phone out of your pocket along with your keys, ready to call your friend Valerie to bitch and moan about Tamlin as soon as you were inside.

But apparently God had other plans.

As soon as you flicked on the lights to your apartment, your phone slipped out of your hands and landed with a thud on the floor. Your eyes widened, your heart plummeted all the way to your stomach as your gaze fell on a pair of unusual violet eyes.

Rhysand.

Rhysand was sitting there on your dingy mattress, his nice clothes a stark contrast to your fraying sheets. He gave you a grin that could rival the devil’s.

“There you are, little mouse,” he purred. “I’ve been looking for you.”

#acotar #fanfic #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #rhysand x reader #rhysand x you #cassian x reader #cassian x you #batboys x reader #batboys x you #azriel #rhysand #cassian #reverse harem #modern au #acotar au

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tonixe · 5 months

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MOTIVE...

a/n: ZOOWEMAMA, NEW CELEBRITY CRUSH UNLOCKED. Yes, I DID JUST WATCH THE NEW HUNGER GAMES, AND THIS is PROBABLY LIKE THE ONLY TIME I WILL SAY, THAT ONLY THE YOUNG CORIOLANUS SNOW IS HOT; the movie was good asf, low-key jealous of the actor who played Lucy like I would love I mean love to just be proximity 5 feet or less like he is just so hot. **

warning: mentions of violence (threats), smut, p in the v, penetration, fingering, bathroom sex, enemy lovers trope...proofread (?).

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word counter: 1.8k

You were perfect, the embodiment of a perfect daughter, student, and personality. You carried yourself with grace, and made yourself known as an individual with class and intelligence.

You have an outstanding academic standing, high grades, good social points, and were popular with your peers. A person with all that must have someone to be rival with or a person trying to one-up them. In this case, it was true for you, the last name Snow, made you snarl. The name Coriolanus Snow, made you grimace even. He was always one step ahead of you, if you were two, he would be one. It made you resent him in every single way.

Today was reaping day...the anniversary of making the district pay for their uprising against capital control and authority. You were wearing a black dress with a scoop necklace and small cut diamonds sowed on your dress, making it look like the night sky, it fell to your knees. Pearls waiting on your neck with matching earrings and a dashing pair of bloody red lips to match the blood that was ready to be spilled in the arena.

The building was busy with students, excited for the games to begin. It was supposedly going to be last, but you knew it was a lie. Why would the capitol stop the games, weren't their enemies not rebelling against them enough? Vigilantly waiting for it to start, holding onto a delicate glass cup with some liquid poured into, it as you sipped from the glass. You were conversing with a few of your peers, not friends. You weren't considered them anywhere near you, there were just walking money bags that socially and economically fueled you.

"Y/N, how would you prophesize this year's hunger game will turn out ?" Festus said, you looked at him. "Well...I, presume that it going to end as fast as it started" You declared, smirking against the glass before you sipped the liquid inside your cup, "I don't expect any of thoses things to survive fast" Felix agreed with your thought, "The same" Arachne added.

You loved basking in the attention of others, made you feel like you had some power, and if people liked you. They would agree, give, gift, allow, and offer anything to you. It was shortly outlived, "Finally, the star pupil," Arachne said, their attention turning to Coriolanus, and yours flickered to him as well.

You bit your lip at the scene, glaring at her before you looked at him. "That's a snazzy shirt, what are those buttons.. tesserae?" Arachne marvels at his shirt, picking out several details, you put your hands covering your mouth to hide your smile.

"Hm..that's why they remind me of the maid's bathroom," Coriolanus remarked, looking at the button, turning his attention towards the group, "Not surprising with the people you associated yourself with, Coriolanus" You commented, taking a sip from your drink, faintly tilting your head to the side, denoting Sejanus's presence from afar.

"How malicious of you, y/n. That was the most humane thing you ever displayed to me" He said, his eyes and yours making contact with each other, making the room oddly tense up. "I'm tender-hearted but not a charity" You affirmed, the grip of your glass getting harder as you spoke to him.

Were you jealous, no, never. Why would you ever be jealous of him? Maybe it was his high intelligence, the way he carried himself, his charm on everyone he talked to? or everything that was neatly wrapped in a silky satin red bow, that was an embodiment of himself. It was funny to you, that you had this 'discreet' loathe for someone, and that person was in less than 6 feet of you, proximity 2 people away.

"Well, I heard this year there is something called the 'Plinth' prize" You turned your attention to Felix talking, "Something about Doctor Gauls' being in the building, Plinth.." Felix turned his head, "I mean just look at his spawn" I turned my attention to Sejanus from afar. "Who knew you could buy your way into the capitol?" Felix finished, "Well, money does control everything" you muttered, cocking your eyebrows.

"Well, you can't buy class, I mean...have you looked at his mother's outfit, Oh sorry, his ma's..." Festus mocked before the group snickering, "Dress a turnip in a ball gown, and it will still be begged to be mashed" Coriolanus joked, flickering his eyes away from Sejanus.

"Don't do that we all know you like him" Arachne commented, " I don't like him, Arachne. I tolerate him. He's District" Coriolanus finished, cutting her off completely, made you amused. "That's a low blow" You mockingly did a sad face at him, "The low blow is being district" Coriolanus muttered, you smirked at his actions.

"Tolerate him, just don't encourage. I heard these games how immoral these hunger games have been, putting him in the arena must—" Festus spoke he cut himself short as Sejanus walked toward the group. The whole thing was funny, snarky remarks being thrown, and your lips were graced with a smile every time.

Your ears heard the ringing of the bell signaling the start of the reaping. You got into your seat, sitting right next to Arachne.

It went delighting, well for you. You got a capable-looking tribute, she looked promising to you, and her name was Hera. Interesting to give a poor girl, a high-class name. You were in the bathroom, powering your nose, fixing up yourself. Puffing the power puff on your face, leaving your face having a matte finish. Applying your signature color on your lips.

Your ears heard the door opening, but your eyes didn't bother to look at the person who came as you were too busy with yourself.

Feeling a pair of hands on your waist, your eyes flickering to the mirror, looking at the one who was responsible, only to met with the eyes that you so daintily hate. You quickly turn yourself around, "What are you doing here?" You exclaimed, turning your attention to the blonde that came in, Coriolanus. "Do you know what bathroom you're in Coriolanus?" You crossed your arms, glaring at him.

"It didn't bother you then, why now" He walked closer to your awaiting form, "Then, I didn't resent you," You stated, feeling his hands on your bottom, lightly spinning you in a halfway motion. "Are you serious going to this in the bathroom.." Your eyes darted away from him, "What if I said, yes?" He lifted your head up narrowly so that your eyes met his "...what if we get caught?" You really did hate him, how he made you feel, how he controlled you, but it felt natural to be obedient to him, his cold stare meeting yours.

"Let's wait still we do" He leaned towards you and whispered to your ear, before taking you by surprise, taking your body and placing it on the marble of the cold bathroom counter. Making you hiss from the temperature change, his actions were rushed taking your tights off with the motion of matching colored panties, discarding them somewhere else.

His lips latching onto yours, leaning you back to the mirror, your arms holding down for support. Moans trailing down from your lips, groans from his, your hands on your cheeks, feeling his tongue exploring the caverns of your mouth. Opening your eyes slightly from the hungry kiss, catching your gaze at the growing size that was bound to be released from his constricted black pants. You withdraw from the kiss attempting to catch your breath, feeling yourself unravel in front of the blonde gentleman. "Just put 'it' in already" You whispered, hanging your arms that lack strength on his shoulders, "Not yet, my dove" Feeling his fingers dancing under your dress, his finger making contact with the sensitive parts of you, making you shutter.

"Coriolanus....be gentle, you know im sensitive" your lips pouting before feeling the intrusion, making you jump in your skin. Your languid moans being ripped out from your throat, while he pushes you further, pushing the digit further in and taking it out, thrusting in a frantic style.

Your body jolted and bounced back from the force he used. He edges you on, till your skin is covered with a layer of sweat, and everything around you makes you feel hot. You needed to get out of his dress in some way, it was another layer that denied you, the friction you needed.

His slender fingers carved a way into you, reaching into parts of you didn't know you had, your head hung low, feeling embarrassed from the vulgar things you both were doing in the bathroom, the feeling of being caught was only a chance but was never low. Your eyes hesitantly look at the door, feeling your skin pricking, distracting you. "Coryo...I'm close" you whispered, something in him erupted when you said that, that..very nickname. His fingers removed themselves from you, making you quiver, dissatisfied.

"Y/N..I want you to use that name...every time I thrust into you" He spoke, his very words made you wet, if not impossible more attracted. His hands on your upper thigh, pulling you towards him. Propping your hip at the edge of the counter, your cheeks were flushed, knowing what was next.

Next thing you knew his pant were discarded like your panties, and feeling him lining up with your slit. His hand is on your waist massaging the muscle, before he pushes his hips to yours, the intrusion feels better, moans trailing down on your lips. His hip colliding with yours. Your ears hearing him groan in pleasure, your own mind on cloud 9.

Feeling yourself getting needier for a sort of release or satisfaction.

"C-coryo, I'm close" you whimpered, your skin feeling more hot, your dress making you uncomfortable. His cock fucking into you, your body jolting at the frantic push into you. Hooking your arms around, feeling yourself almost unraveling, "Me too, my dove" Coriolanus groans out, his hips snapping back into you. Before you felt a crash of waves coming down on you, your gummy walls clamping down around his cock. Hearing his groans in your ear, as he thrust into you a few more times before pulling out of you, and spilling himself on your stomach.

Heavy breathing was all you heard, no words just your body growing tired from the minute. "You did well" his hands caressing your cheek gently. Your lips parted, as you stared into his icy-like eyes. Your chest heaves out, placing your hands on his, leaning into his embrace.

You hate it, but you can't understand why you love it at the same time...it fills you with confusing thoughts, but every time you look at the same blonde gentleman you thought you were to loathe, but your heart skips a beat.

You gave him back a small smile. Finding yourself surrendering and freezing into the snow and frost—and your heart being held with a lock and key.

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iamyourdailydoseofbi · 8 months

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Hii I was wondering if maybe you could write a Aemond Targaryen fic? Where Aemond is like Gomez Addams and he says, "Look at her --I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way --what bliss." With maybe even a taylor swift song? Thanks :))

EITHER WAY WHAT BLISS ( House of the Dragon x Reader )

AUTHOR NOTE! It makes me so happy to know that you requested my writing! I love this idea! He does ( lowkey ) give off this vibe <3

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Fem! Tully! Reader

prompt: Aemond is willing to die for the Reader if it means he'll get an ounce of her love.. ( The inspo was 'Gorgeous' by Taylor Swift. )

key: h/c = hair color, Dahlia = random servant girl, Evan Tully

word count: 2,000+ words

Brushing away a strand of white hair from their face, Y/n scans the rows of men, her eyes lingering on her brother Brynden. Her name day was supposed to be a small affair between her family and her bethorthal’s. But, the King was stubborn and insisted on having a Tourney at the very least. So, she’d be sitting through at least an hour of jousting, games of archery, and grueling duels. Not exactly what she wanted to do on her name day. But, what can she do?

Picking at her bottom lip, Brynden gives her a weak smile as he adjusts his armor, her heart clenched tightly. He could barely hold a sword, and of course, he had to enter a bloody swordsman match. Feeling Dahlia nudge her side hard, she snaps out of her daze, her cheeks flushing red from embarrassment. Shit. Turning to look at Dahlia, she tries to smile as the black haired girl continues to ramble away about something about men and their ‘walks’.

“I bet you my finest necklace, that knight. The one in black armor is really fine under that helmet.” Dahlia giggles, twirling a strand of her hair.

“Oh? How do you know that? For all you know he’s got the face of a donkey. How good he looks in armor, doesn’t mean that he’s that good in regular clothes.” Y/n scoffs, following Dahlia’s eyes.

“It’s the walk. Look at how he holds himself. A fine looking man walks with a little extra pep in his step. Like he knows that the moment he removes that helmet, girls are going to swoon over him.” Dahlia smirks, “Just like your little Prince.”

“Just because you want to fuck my betrothed does not mean that I wish to hear about it, Dahlia. Keep that talk for the other maids.” Y/n scoffs, rolling her eyes.

“I am envious that you, little Y/n Tully, are going to call that man her husband. The ungodly things I would do make him look at me the way he does to you. He looks at you like you crafted the moon and stars.” Dahlia rambles, a dreamy look on her face.

Scoffing at Dahlia’s teasing, she narrows her eyes at the knight, inspecting the black armor he adorned. His face was hidden under his helmet. Looking for some kind of hint of which house he was from, the only thing that was kind of a hint was the sapphire blue cape he was wearing. But, even then it could mean nothing. Tilting her head to the side, she didn’t like that the man was a mystery, why was he hiding? What was he hiding? Watching as he strolls over to Brynden, she stands up a little straighter in her seat, her jaw clenching. If he so much as touched a hair on her baby brother’s head, she’d make Maegor the Cruel seem like a baby compared to her.

“Brynden will be fine, Y/n.” Dahlia reasons, but her voice is weak.

“Brynden cannot even hold a sword upright.” Y/n argues, “Not to mention he’s got two left feet!”

“Well you’ve always looked rather pretty in black?” Dahlia weakly smiles.

“Dahlia!” Y/n scolds, shooting her friend a look.

“I know! But, at least he’ll look good dying?” Dahlia cringes at her own words, “I don’t know! I don't really know what to say..”

Slapping Dahlia’s shoulder, the pit in her stomach only worsens, her face curling up in anger and uneasiness. She did not have any other siblings but Brynden. He was her whole world. Her baby brother. She had practically raised him! She was the one to teach him how to say his first words. She was the one who taught him how to walk. She was there to teach him how to handle a horse. How to be a just and kind Lord. How to be the perfect husband. She did everything that a parent would do. Except how to hold a sword.

Picking at her bottom lip with her teeth, she slowly rises from her seat, pacing back and forth in place. She wouldn’t be able to stomach her baby brother getting hurt. It’d kill her, surely! Feeling Dahlia grab her arm, she’s pulled from her darkening thoughts. The taste of blood floods her mouth. Shit. Wiping her bottom lip clean of blood, she’s aware of the eyes that now shifted onto her. The maiden of the day. Aemond Targaryen’s betrothed. The sweet little Tully girl born with white curls. The Enchantress of the Realm.

"Ocean blue eyes looking in mine I feel like..I might sink and drown and die.."

“If that was your attempt to make me feel better, it failed..” Y/n breaths out, “Perhaps, I should just talk to him about pulling out. It’s not too late..”

“My Lady…” Dahlia tries, but Y/n doesn’t hear her.

“Do not try to talk me out of this, Dahlia. I will not allow my brother to make a fool of himself, or worse kill himself.” Y/n shakes her head, “I have made my mind! Come let us⎯”

“It’s your future husband..” Dahlia speaks through her teeth.

“You're so gorgeous, I can't say anything to your face..'Cause look at your face..gorgeous...”

Furrowing her brows at Dahlia’s odd words, the black haired girl turns her around, forcing her to look down. Shit. She finds herself staring down at Aemond, the mysterious knight in black armor. Her face flushes a bright red from embarrassment. The knight they had⎯Well the knight Dahlia was gawking at was Aemond. Staring at him with wide eyes, Dahlia nudges her side, trying to snap her out of her little daze. But, it feels like her tongue is made of lead. Looking him up and down, his long white locs are braided back from his face, but a few stray strands frame his face. There’s a small smirk on his face, as he adjusts his armor. Gods almighty, he looked gorgeous in armor.

“And I'm so furious..At you for making me feel this way..But what can I say? You're gorgeous..”

“Aemond..” Y/n breathes out, “You're the blue knight..I..I thought you didn’t give a shit about Tourneys?”

“I don’t. But, it would be a shame if I did not participate in my future-brides Name Day Tourney.” He smirks, licking his bottom lip.

“I..Aemond, could you..?” She chews on her bottom lip, “Could you possibly? Please watch out for my brother?”

“I will.” He nods, making her smile gratefully.

“Thank you.”

He kept his word, or at least that was what Dahlia was telling her. She hadn’t dared to open her eyes just yet. She didn’t not care if that made her a coward. She just couldn’t stand to watch the fights and not think about her brother while men pummeled each other with swords. Squeezing Dahlia’s hand tightly, she tenses at the call of her brother’s name and Aemond’s. Her eyes shoot open, her jaw dropping slightly. No. No. No. No. That couldn't be right! She must have misheard! Sharply turning her head to the fighting circle, she bolts from her seat, leaning against the railing. Her nails dig into the wood like a cat’s would. Her eyes are flickering between the two of them.

One of them would get hurt, she was sure of it, whether it be intentional or not. Her breathing grows ragged, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She was afraid that it would jump out of her chest. Watching as they raise their swords, she stuck in a trance as they slowly circled each other. Their swords collide, her eyes shutting tightly at the horrid sound of metal against metal. Biting her lip, she doesn’t know why her eyes peel open, but her heart stops in her chest as she catches the sight of Aemond falling to the ground. His sapphire blue cape slowly turned red. She nearly faints at the sight of red, he’s bleeding. Oh gods..He was bleeding.

“You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah..”

“AEMOND!” She shouts, the words escaping her lips before she can stop it.

“My Prince!” Someone shouts, their voice a blur in her mind.

No. No. No. No. Watching with blurry eyes as Maesters rush to him, she wants to bolt to him, but her legs are frozen in place. Brynden drops his sword, the realization creeping on his face. Feeling Dahlia’s arms wrap around her, it seems like the Arena explodes with chaos in an instant. Everyone is shouting loudly. Guards are rushing around in every direction. But, throughout the chaos her eyes are on him. Her Aemond.

“He’ll be okay…” Dahlia reassures, “Maesters are tending to him..”

“Take me to him.” Y/n breaths out, tears flooding her eyes.

“Y/n..” Dahlia nervously warns, “I..I don’t think we should. Not right now at least.”

“Take me to him.” Y/n repeats, her voice more firm than before.

Shooting Dahlia an icy glare, Dahlia chews on her lip before nodding her head at the request, a nervous look on her face. What if it was bad? What if he died? Would Brynden be punished? Gods, how in the Seven bloody hells did this happen? Following Dahlia, she picks up her skirt, her eyes searching for the white haired man that was to be her husband. Pushing past frantic Lords and Guards, it felt like an invisible force had her by the throat, squeezing her lungs and throat with each step she took closer to a bleeding out Aemond.

Seeing him laying on the ground, his chest piece was removed, his white tunic cut open to reveal the rather gnarly gash on his stomach. Tears flood her eyes at the sight before her. Covering her mouth with her hand, she rushes to his side, her eyes scanning every little detail that she can. His chest was moving up and down, he was drenched in sweat and dirt. That was a good thing. Looking at his face, his eye patch was removed, his hair completely unbraided and spread around him like a halo.

“Oh..Aemond..” She whispers, petting his sweat soaked hair.

“My Lady, you should not be here.”

“He is my husband to be, I will not be leaving.” She argues, turning back to Aemond. “Aemond, are you okay, love?”

“I am fine. Do not worry.” He grunts, clenching his jaw.

Staring into his eyes, she tenses up at the sight of his missing eye-patch. Fuck, he looked gorgeous with that scar. Looking up at her, he notices her attention on his face. Lifting a hand to touch his face, his face drains of color when he doesn’t feel the leather of his eye-patch. He had been purposeful in hiding his scar from the world. He didn’t want to be viewed as a monster. But, she looked at him with such softness in her eyes. Hunching over him, she casually places her hand over his eye, hiding his eye from everyone. Giving him a small nod, his breathing grows shaky.

“You dodged his attack. But, not like someone as experienced with a sword as you are, would. Why?” Dahlia asks, narrowing her eyes at Aemond.

“Look at her, I would die for her. I would kill for her. Either way⎯what bliss.” He whispers, High Valyrian flowing off his tongue.

“You are a lovestruck fool, Aemond Targaryen.” Dahlia scoffs, “I hope this is the bloodloss talking.”

“What did you say?” Y/n furrows her brows, “Dahlia..?”

“He didn’t want to risk hurting your brother. That he rather he be the one hurt and not your brother. Come, let us reassure your little brother that he hasn’t killed your beloved.” Dahlia lies smoothly, nodding her head at Aemond.

Y/n looks between Dahlia and Aemond unsure, chewing on her bottom lip. She didn’t know enough High Valyrian to understand what the two of them were discussing. But, she trusted Dahlia enough to take her word for it. Opening her mouth to speak, Aemond grabs onto her hand, stopping her. Looking down at Aemond, her cheeks flushing involuntarily, her heart was pounding frantically in her chest. She wanted him to keep on looking at her like that.

“Go..” He nods, "I will be fine."

#hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #aemond targaryen imagines #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #house of dragons x reader #house of the dragon imagines #house of dragons #house of the dragon #hotd imagines #hotd x reader #hotd

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iznsfw · 1 year

Text

The Rabbit

IVE's Jang Wonyoung x Male Reader Smut

9,623 words

Categories | maid!Wonyoung, if you could get the movie this is based off of you're awesome, blowjob, anal

Yep, I finally wrote Wonyoung. Who knew, right?

Maybe you'll meet your end today. Tomorrow, if you're lucky. Either way, they'd find out. That's definitely certain; mandatory love is no winning game. Love in general isn't, especially when it's founded on merely scrawny and lustful sex. The lines between lust and love blur, and it becomes more dangerous than it actually is.

And one could say that it really isn't love (you've heard that a couple more times than you'd like) when you barely know anything about her, when your mind only dances with the thought of ruining her angelic self again, but they know you'd never listen. You refuse to.

So, where did all this—a young, gorgeous woman by the name of Jang Wonyoung in the crook of your arm, her hand on your cock and glossy lips on yours—start?

Well, to understand, you have to stay in the present and reminisce about the past, just one more time. You've to live in it as if the former days were the current ones and what's now is nothing to worry about. But you shouldn't dwell too long; the world out there is no land for lonely men.

1. HOP

Your nerves and fears merge and struggle as one as you line up to the counter. They've plenty of reasons to do that sickly collaboration that makes your stomach hurt, but you find solace with the fact that it's at least a nice hotel. The soft yellow paint on the wall makes a lovely pair with the yellow one smeared on the outlines. The rooms are all well-furnished, and the frames bear replicates of several famous abstract masterpieces. In general, the hotel possesses a grand and pretty aesthetic, and you would have rated the stay five stars out of five if you weren't hoarded out of your home and in here.

Everyone dresses nicely, too. The older woman in the line next to yours wears a blazer and a high fashion tube top under it, her main color all over being pink. On the other hand, the man in front of you dons a formal black suit. It's like there was a recurring oath all around to dress grandly that they left you out of. How rude of them.

Suddenly self-conscious, you smooth down your simple shirt and jeans. You're already making an exception for yourself from the expensive dress code; the obligation to look clean should at least be followed. There shouldn't be any crinkled lines riding the fabric of your shirt, or a single speck of dirt on your cheap shoes.

"Next," says the woman at the counter briskly.

You make your way forward. Said woman is dressed in mandatory, dead-looking uniform and has no sign of a smile on her emotionless face. She doesn't want to be here more than you do. She makes that clear as she flashes you a tired look.

"Name?"

You tell her your name, switching your weight from one foot to another.

"Age?"

"Twenty-one years old."

"Sexual preference?"

"W-what?" you ask. It bears repetition; you have no idea why the woman would ask that.

She—(you should start calling her "Kim Gaeul" now; you've read the name on her breast pocket tag)—sighs, not caring to hide her frustration. "You know why you're here, don't you?" she asks.

Her tone suggests that you should know. However, no idea comes to mind. If they ever informed you of your purpose here, the message got lost in translation in the stress of packing your belongings and traveling all the way to this hotel. It's a decent upgrade from your humble little house, but it can’t mimic the safety of the place you grew up in. You're basically being held hostage here—this place will never be home.

"I don't," you admit guiltily.

"Well, if it's not obvious, you're a twenty-one-year-old heterosexual—I assume—man, and you still haven't found a partner."

Gaeul says it in this unnecessarily audible voice that makes you flush red to your ears. Everyone is going through the same, hence their presence in this very hotel, but when it's uttered out loud, it's like rubbing salt over an already throbbing wound.

Your face feels hot with humiliation. "Yes? And?"

"This doesn't go well with your purpose of being fruitful and multiplying," continues Gaeul. To quote the Bible in these times is… well, something, but you’ll let her have this one. "Here, you'll be able to find your lifetime partner—"

You're confused. "And how does being here help with bagging a girl?"

"—and spend two weeks together to prove your bond to us." Gaeul glares at you, clearly annoyed that you've interrupted her. For that, and out of pure, unyielded spite, she dodges your question expertly. "You're given forty-five days, and, if by the end, you're unable to find someone who shares the same qualities slash traits with you, you're turned into an animal."

Well, you did not expect that one coming.

(But, if your memory serves you well, the cop in the van that took you to this place said, as he brushed down his gray uniform: "They skin you alive to make you a little critter, that's what they do—it's heinous. Happened to an old friend of mine. Miss him more than ever."

"Did you see it happen?" you asked, his words stealing your attention from the lands running to keep up with the vehicle.

"Was told about it," answered the cop. "He said he wanted to be a dog. They took out his organs and gave all the blood to the hospitals. Dunno what happened to those, but they probably went down the same route. Wonder what kid out there got his lungs now, heh."

"Well, did it work? Did he become what he wanted?"

"No idea. All I can say is after that, dogs kept following me around.")

"You know," you say, leaning forward on the counter with your arms crossed, in hopes of appearing more in control of the whole thing than you actually are, "it takes more than forty-five days to find a wife, Gaeul. It takes years."

"Oh, really?" Gaeul gives you a condescending look one would give to a rambling, precocious toddler. "Didn't know that."

"Hey, I'm not doing this. I'm out."

"Suppose you're a Loner, then?"

"I've heard that one before."

She sighs. "A Loner doesn't believe in what we do here," she explains tiredly. "They don't believe in love."

"Sounds like me."

"If one wishes to extend their forty-five-day period in finding a partner," adds Gaeul helpfully, her statement definitely not a thinly veiled threat, "they're required to kill a Loner."

You're stunned by how everything works. Just forty-five days to get a wife? Those who don't want to comply with the system being hunted down as a consequence? What has this world come to?

You look back in line. There are numerous other men and women waiting for their turn, and you're wasting their time and Gaeul's. Not that you care much for her since she's been rude to you since the beginning, but she does look like the kind of person able to make someone disappear off the face of the Earth if they don't fit in. What if you don't match her criteria either? What would she have the people in charge do to you? What if the animal thing was a lie and they actually just killed you off?

It's either death, becoming an animal, or having someone to hold.

You haven't had the third one in a long, long time.

You inhale, hold that breath, and exhale slowly. Straighten your shoulders. "Fine, I'll do it."

"Alright. Sexual preference?"

"Heterosexual." You think.

"If, in any circumstance, you are unable to find a partner, what animal would you like to become?"

A beat.

"A rabbit," you say thoughtfully. "I think I'd want to become a rabbit."

2. DOWN

"A rabbit? Really? Out of every animal out there?"

A small Japanese woman from behind you in line keeps you entertained now in the waiting room. She has short, auburn hair and a cute smile. Her cheeks remind you of dumplings. Speaking of, you can smell some of them cooking in the kitchen nearby. You can hear your stomach rumble.

"It just… feels right, you know?" you say, shrugging in your seat beside her, in which she's strangely pressed up closely to you.

You haven't really given the animal thing much thought. You know that there's an underlying reason for it, but you can't really ponder exactly what. Perhaps it's a favorite animal from childhood? Nope, couldn't be it—your favorite animal back then was a lobster. And you can't even recall the reason for that.

"A rabbit… carrots…” You give up. “No idea.”

The woman nods understandingly. Her fingers guitar a rhythm on her knees. "Aren't you gonna ask what I'd like to be?" she says expectantly.

Alright, sure; you'll play her game. You've nothing else to do, anyway; you're just waiting for your room number to be announced. It might take a while, too, with the number of people waiting before you. The richer ones obviously get more privileges as well.

"What animal would you want to be?" you ask the girl.

"A butterfly. Be nice to just fly around and be pretty, don't you think?"

"A butterfly’s an insect, no?"

"Insects are also animals."

Desperate to keep the conversation going to fill the eerie silence, which makes you grow more and more uneasy, you prompt more lines from her. "Are they?"

She twitches her mouth to one side with a thoughtful look. "I'd like to think so."

You're given only forty-five days to find the one, you remind yourself. You have to constantly give yourself reminders lest you forget about your new life here in the hotel. Here's your chance.

"What's your name?" you ask her.

"Rei."

A cute name for a cute girl—nice. Rei's adorable from head to toe. Even the clothes she wears are sweet. Her plump cheeks allude to that, too. "Well, Rei, you want to team up?"

Rei scoffs, suddenly moving away from you. Her face, which you once saw as adorable, suddenly looks scary. "Is that what you think of all this? A defense-offense field game?"

"Uh, no, I meant that it’s—"

"No, save it. I want to actually find love here, you bastard. Love isn't a game you can just play anytime."

Yeah, of course it isn't; love is a fucking requirement. Does Rei really think she'll find true love in a world like this? You pity her Snow White enthusiasm for true romance, for a prince who’d sweep her off her feet without the feeling of obligation, but maybe she really wants to be a butterfly. You're not gonna stop her from what her heart desires; you're far from that kind of guy.

At least, you hope so. God, are you becoming one of those men?

Rei's obviously upset. From the pure shock in her face, it's clear she saw something in you that was quickly made meaningless by your mindset. She rises from the sofa, fuming, and walks away. She says in heated breaths that she needs some fresh air.

You watch your chance disappear just like that and smile tightly. Oh well.

"Tough, ain't it?" remarks the man from the loveseat across the room. He's a lot older, and he looks like he'd be the best grandfather. He'd probably let his grandkids stay awake past bedtime and give them candy. Why is he here? Maybe he recently broke up with Grandma? "Finding a girl?"

"Don't I know it," you sigh.

He smiles sympathetically. "It's better than being a rabbit," he says.

"I'd take a rabbit over a no-jerking-off policy."

That's how it works here: real life torture, in an unusual way, since they're depriving you of self-pleasure. They don't believe that masturbating would help find a girl. Gaeul told you earlier that if you were caught doing so—(and they will; they have CCTVs in the damned rooms, which definitely breaks more than a few laws about privacy and the like)—there would be severe punishments.

You truly don't want to know what punishment awaits your refusal to obey.

The man chuckles. "At least you get a lap dance. That's better than yankin'."

"A lap dance?" you ask. Gaeul didn't mention that.

"Every night, a maid comes over and gives ya a good grind down the groin. You don't actually get to touch her or do the thing, if you catch my drift,” he winks, “but it helps with mating. Wouldn't want someone who can't get it up at night, amirite, mate?"

"Suppose not."

The man sees the sparkle in your eyes. His laugh evolves from a soft, olden chuckle to a full-on guffaw. "See? There's pros in this place, too, getting a pretty girl on top of you every night."

"Can't the maid be my wife instead?" you joke. That would make the flow of things here a whole lot easier, if that were true.

He shakes his head. "Nah, some say they're part of the Loners. Wouldn't want to mess with them."

The Loners… you've heard about them during your drive here. You saw them lurking in the woods, guns cocked, with eyes flashing demonic looks at every passerby. While the cop told you not to make eye contact with them, Gaeul informed you about their beliefs earlier during your heated exchange: love shouldn't be mandatory. And you agree, but getting hunted down by desperate rich people isn't at the very top of your bucket list.

You're a coward, but you like to think it's just you playing safe. One wrong move can land you in a place where your eyes would never behold the light of day again, where life holds no meaning unless a carrot is present.

"You're lying about the lap dance thing, aren't you?" you say finally. The world is fucked up, but it can't be that bad, right?

He grins. "See for yourself, and don't say I didn't warn you."

If there's anything good in this hotel besides the air-conditioning and paintings, it's the food. The platters served on the white-drapes tables make you feel more well-off than you actually are. There's fish skillets, sushi, gravy, and mashed potatoes. Spoons and knives of varying sizes and utilities sit on the opposite sides of every plate.

"Guess I like this place now," you joke to a woman beside you. She giggles back politely, but doesn't respond; her mouth is stuffed with crispy chicken skin.

You eat to your heart's content. Pour gravy all over the hills of mashed potatoes. Scoop up unlimited rice and pair it with the soup. You wonder what kind of cooks they hired to produce these delicacies. Was there a certain secret degree that had to be obtained to be accepted here? A secret recipe worth signing an NDA for?

"Good, isn't it?" asks the young gentleman across from you. It's clear he's used to grand dining; he's dainty with his chewing, and knows on which occasion a specific utensil should be used. However, his eyes are kind—there's no judgment in them as he watches you wolf down your food.

"Definitely." Letting go of table etiquette, you speak with half your mouth full. Glance down at his plate. "Do you usually eat that little?"

"Not really," he responds. "Just keeping room for dessert."

"There's dessert?"

As if on cue, chocolate cake and more chicken wings are placed on the table. You take one of the chicken wings and eat it with rice, classic Filipino style.

(Speaking of, you really, really miss Jollibee.)

Should you go for the cake, too?

You glance at the cake, then at your growing belly. Fuck it. You slice a generous part of the cake onto your golden plate. The frilling of the dessert is made of flowery cream. The bakers decorated the top of it with coffee-flavored candy, which you fork into your mouth gladly. Your stomach and heart feel full, but you just keep eating. It’s rare to come across food this delicious, and you’re not going to waste it. It’s all or nothing.

"Let's take half and half for this bad boy," the gentleman gestures to the cake with a pinky, "and leave nothing for the rest of these fuckers. How's that sound?"

"What the hell, I'm in."

As promised, he slices the dessert smoothly with a serving knife and places a good amount for you, and another one for him. You're gluttons, you two, but it's exactly that which made you like each other.

You become quite uneasy when you see staff looking at you strangely. Their eyes are squinted, and they’re murmuring among themselves, pointing in your direction. You try to look away, but they’re approaching already. There’s nowhere else to run.

"Sir, you might want to come with us."

You look up, ready to bear whatever they're planning to do to you. But then you realize they’re talking to your new friend, who looks nervous. The look in his eyes matches the one you’d see in an animal caught in a bear trap. He follows them anyway to the backrooms; the staff look pretty serious, and they don't look like they'd back up.

You've no idea what happened after, but you hear the words "masturbation" and "disobeyed," watch a few heads turn out of curiosity, and smell the horrid scent of burning skin.

You also hear screaming.

Safe to say that no one used the toaster after that.

You enter the chambers of your room with a fulfilled stomach. There's just a tiny amount of alcohol in your system, enough to keep your nerves at bay, and maybe a few mashed potatoes. You make sure to brush all that off in the tiled bathroom, using the small tube of hotel toothpaste and the children's toothbrush they provided for you. Drain it all down with mouthwash and leave your mouth feeling minty.

You thought the bedroom would be as grand as the rest of the place. To your surprise, its design and furniture look like ones you'd see at a gas station motel, nothing more. There's no expensive comforter to slip under, or a tiger's carpet to rest your feet on. It's all just… normal.

Maybe you'd like it that way. One day, it'll feel like home. You're not entirely sure about it, but you're hoping it'll happen.

You're just watching TV on the vintage television they set up on a small table (it’s a pretty old movie called Psycho) when a knock sounds on your door. Wondering who it might be, coming over at this hour, you open it.

"Good evening, sir."

A girl with braided hair twisted by dark bows in a stereotypical and an obviously fetish maid outfit stands timidly outside of your room. In spite of your tiredness, it still astounds you how she looks like an expensive, vintage porcelain doll brought to life. Her skin is as pale as the frilly, ribboned fabric forming the top of her black dress and the gloves that wrap her thin arms like a present. Her hands are curled behind her back, but they hide nothing, not even her nervousness.

"I'm sorry," you say. She's pretty, and you would have done her, but you don't know what the hell she's doing here. "I didn't ask for room service."

"It's not room service," she says. She's tall for a girl, only a little shorter than you, but you forget it with how often she hangs her head. "I'm, I'm here to give you the… you know…"

"Huh?"

"The grinding thing?" the girl goes on. Her fingertips tap against each other. Her eyes meet everything but yours. "The lap dance?"

Oh, now you remember. Your mind let go of the idea, having trained its focus on the food you consumed, but now, you can't stop thinking about what this girl is going to do. And here you thought it was just a joke to get you going.

You take a proper look at her. She's really beautiful. That face and body of hers, visually striking and slim in all the right spots, doesn't belong in a maid's uniform, now that you look closer. She should be a model, strutting down the catwalk with confidence in every one of her strides. She should be out there walking for fashion weeks and shows, not grinding on random strangers varying from old and young.

(However, in all unfiltered honesty, you certainly wouldn't mind her rubbing her thighs and ass on you, or holding those braids as you plow her—)

"Who are you?"

"I'm the maid," she replies. She bites her lip, getting even more anxious about what's to come, but it just looks undeniably sexy to you, even if its effect on you is wholly unintended.

Nodding: "Yeah, I know that. But what's your name?"

"W-Wonyoung…"

"Well, Wonyoung, do you want to do this? It's completely fine if you don't."

It's probably her first time hearing this because her blush is intense. She can't recall the last time anybody asked if she actually consented to her job. "I don't mind," she says honestly. She crosses her arms together and looks down. "I think I kinda like it."

You smile widely. "You do, huh?"

"Yes, but I'm a little nervous. I… I've never done stuff like this before."

Her voice is small and sweet. Pair that up with her angelic face and the outfit, then it equates to her looking like the perfect fuckdoll. You can imagine a million different scenarios with her if the world were kinder: having her as your pretty little sugar baby, with Wonyoung always following you like a tail and calling you daddy. Perhaps as a young wife, too, who'd welcome you home in ways that stray from a simple breakfast or kiss. Oh, you lament those lost universes.

But for now, you can have her pretty ass on your crotch.

"Come show me what you came for," you say.

"I—" Wonyoung shakes her head. She has to get a hold of herself. "Sorry, I'm just scared."

"Don't worry, I'll help you out."

Your lower body descends on the bed. And after, so does her tight, round ass on your center.

Your hands hold on to her tiny waist and guide her in her routine. She's on your lap, and you're in heaven.

The skirt, created and woven by the wealthy seamstresses in the hotel, is mesmerizing, but it's the natural way of her butt grinding left and right on your crotch that catches you whole, as if she were born with the ability to make the simple, subtle action of nuzzling her rear end on your cock feel like every good thing in the world. In that moment, you have strong faith that a million dollars or a good life can't compare to Wonyoung's ass.

The doubled pleasure from her thin safety shorts and her round butt causes you to let out a deep, guttural moan: "Fuck, Wony."

"Wony?" she asks, looking back at you with glassy eyes that still hold impossibly delicate innocence in them. Oh, how much you want to see the corruption's lust bloom in her irises.

"Sorry." You throw your hands in the air with a soft, broken laugh. "Just slipped out of me, dunno why."

"No, it's fine," says Wonyoung. She winks. "I like it."

Temptation taunts you in the form of the young girl's skirted ass. You wonder if she's lying about being a neophyte to this; she's a natural talent. She takes care to press her butt hard against your rising erection, and pleasure its covered tip by grinding on it with a rapid rhythm. Your cockhead starts to feel hot and tight, and you can tell she's aroused as much as you are; her safety shorts are attractively damp.

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes." You hold on to her dancing hips that grind on your growing erection, guiding her movements to what feels good for you. "Mmm, fuck, faster."

"I can't, I'm sorry..."

Wonyoung halts and rises from your lap. It's a terrible decision to make; it leaves you with unfulfilled desire and her with shaky, buckling legs. She bows apologetically. "I—I'm not supposed to do anything other than that, sir," she explains. "I have to go now. I'm sorry."

You can't believe you were teased like that. And you can't even masturbate to get down from the path to your high. You've seen what they did to the man who was caught touching himself, and you aren't keen on having your hand shoved inside a burning hot toaster.

"Wonyoung, please—"

She exits the room, head bowed and cheeks flushed. You're sitting like a rejected schoolboy on the bed, with blue balls and a throbbing erection, and you couldn't be more disappointed.

The next day arrives faster than you expected, and you still can’t stop thinking about her. Well, there wasn't a minute in the nighttime you spent without thinking of Wonyoung. Although your eyes ought to be on the pretty girls aplenty who’re looking for a man like you—(there’s Miyawaki Sakura, the wealthy heiress with pink hair and a charming, camera-trained smile, and; Kim Jiwon, who would have stolen your heart with her cute, cat-like ways back in your high school days)—your mind remains caught up in Wonyoung.

Pick up your cup, and the black design makes you think of her dark braided hair, which would have felt amazing curled up in your hands as you have your way with her. It’s difficult to drink coffee when the bitter taste reminds you of how she’d taste infinitely better, if last night her crotch was parked on your face instead of your lap. Wiping your mouth with the provided tissue paper sparks a new lamentation: the similar smooth feel of her maid’s dress, and, with her slim shape, how easy it would be to fold her into every position imaginable just to feel her insides become disarrayed from your needy cock.

She’s like a dream come true, dancing in your mind as if she were your ballerina rather than a hotel maid. She’s a sweet, innocent daydream who knows not of how much she stays first in line in your train of thoughts. Wonyoung is temptation in its most innocent form, and it ruins you how you can’t have her for yourself.

"Hey, you alright?" asks the old man you befriended after Rei's rejection. He's still wearing his pajamas and foggy glasses.

You nod, your mind someplace else. "Yeah. You?"

"All is well on my end, too." He lathers Nutella on the plateaus of bread and folds into half tightly. "Did the maid come over to see you last night?"

Chewing through your bread (untoasted, of course), you shake your head. "Nope," you lie through your teeth. "No lap dance, no nothing."

"Huh, that's odd. You probably don't remember it."

"Or maybe you lied," you say.

"Nuh uh, your old man's a saint. She came over to me last night. Gave hot stuff here some action."

"Sure she did."

The man chuckles lightly before taking a bite out of his bread. Now that his eyes are on his food rather than you, you think of Wonyoung again. You wonder if your meeting with her is what love at first sight is. You’re unhealthily infatuated with the girl, and you’ve only met her once. Could it be that this means something more?

Unfortunately, you haven’t got the answer to your own question. But, when she comes tonight, you’ll find out. Your determination is set on it.

3. THE

And come she does; her meek voice barely has audible quality past the glass peephole on your door, but it does make her small face look unusually large. Her expression holds the same lamblike innocence to it, and the dirty thoughts all come rushing back.

Your heart jumps as you welcome her inside. "Hi, Wonyoung."

"S-sir," she stutters, hands folded in front of her skirt, "I want to say that I'm sorry for last night."

Her voice is sweetly precious in a way that, even if you didn't already like her, you would have forgiven her instantly. Her departure last night isn't a grudge you hold on her—she just wants to stay true to the rules, plain and simple. And there's nothing wrong with that; you play by the book, too.

"No hard feelings." You pat her cheek. Feel it become hot. "You're just doing your job. One more time okay?"

You watch the relief wash over her face. But nervousness settles in once more as she sits on top of you.

Her bum erects your cock, sliding up its backside and teasing the tip like she did the night before. You even get a feel of a cameltoe through her shorts. Your hands find her waist and you help her sway her hips side to side. Wonyoung's constantly looking back at you with desperation tinting her gaze. She might not know it, but it's the plea in her gaze that's daring you to break the rules for her just one time. Just one time.

Come on, it seems to taunt, you can live with a burnt hand, you can live with being a rabbit if it means spending a night with Wonyoung. Do it.

So, when she finishes her routine, the first thing you utter is:

"Please don't go."

You've reached a new low: you've fallen for the maid's tight hot body and pretty little face, and now you can't get enough. You won't ever get enough of her, and that both satisfies and dissatisfies you. If she's so far away, how can you ever get to have at least a healthy portion of her? How can you lose yourself in her when it's forbidden?

Wonyoung looks at you regretfully. "Sir," she begins, hand steadied on the doorknob.

"Please, Wony."

The nickname ignites a firework in her. The flame shoots through her trembling hands, pretty face, and drenched core.

When did words alone make her feel so… warm? Her legs feel weak all of a sudden, and though she knows she can get in trouble for entertaining you more, invisible puppet strings drag her to you. Her lust, like some tumors, has formed a mind of its own, and it overpowers her logic already. It intends to keep her on the track towards granting her sexual needs.

"If we do it," she says hesitantly, "do you promise to never tell anyone?"

"I swear."

Wonyoung nods, registering your oath and making a silent one of her own, too. "Okay, thank you."

"Of course."

"And… and can you call me Wony?"

You promise to. You swear on your risked life and heart poisoned by Wonyoung's presence that somehow thrives with the toxicity.

To illustrate what happens after that, and how your pants and her underwear end up slipping off and her thin legs are suddenly curled around your waist, is difficult. It's hard to remember who initiated everything, or even make verbal guesses when your lips are entangled with Wonyoung. Any attempts to cover any hidden CCTVs should have been made earlier when your hands weren't on her thighs, lifting her to the bed and keeping her down there as kissing becomes the only thing you know.

You don't know if Wonyoung is a good kisser or it's all because of how plump her lips are. They wrap around your own with such soft security that the tenderness of it makes slipping your tongue inside her ignites feelings of just a tiny bit of guilt. But then you remember that corrupting Wonyoung from a sweet girl with little experience to a nymphomaniac is exactly what you want to do, and the guilt goes away almost completely.

"You kiss so well, sir," she says, much to your surprise when you've just completed an internal monologue about how good she kisses.

"You're not so bad yourself. Fucking love these lips." You lick a stripe of lust over her mouth and she giggles. "Show me what they're good for, Wony."

"You mean, like… suck your cock?"

"You're a quick girl."

"I am, but only for you, sir."

Wonyoung takes this as her sign to switch the positions, with you being the one on the bed while she gets on her knees. The size difference between your erection and her small face surprises you. With how small Wonyoung is all over, especially her little mouth, how can she take you?

Luckily for you—and for the equally turned on maid—that's the thrill of it. She's big and tall around everyone but you, and that alone already makes you want to do the most unholy things to her. Show her who's truly the big one in this situation, show her where she belongs, which is below you, between your legs and making puppy eyes for your cock.

The light dawns on Wonyoung's pleading face. She pouts, grabbing a hold of your cock and swiping it on her mouth, before asking, "Please? May I pretty, pretty please suck your cock?"

"You can anytime. Wouldn't mind if I pull on your cute pigtails, right, Wony? You'd let me tug on them while I fuck your face?"

"Oh!" Wonyoung nods eagerly. Is that even a question? Of course she'd let you. "Yes, yes, sir, please do. Wony doesn't care if it hurts. Wony only wants you."

Are those tempting words part of her training course prior to becoming a maid? Maybe, and perhaps closing her sweet lips cleanly around your dick is a lesson there, too; it's a lesson she passed with flying colors.

Her hair's already twisted in your fingers, ready for when the overpowering emotion of lust hits. Meanwhile, her hands are on your thighs to guide her in pushing her head back and forth. Her eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky outside the window.

She clicks her tongue on the bottom side of your cock. Hissing, you make your first tug, mumbling her name in almost rueful tones. Yea, rue Wonyoung for how fucking sexy she is, rue her for taking your eyes off the people you're supposed to be with. Oh, yes, rue her. Her punishment ought to be what's happening right now, but she's enjoying it a little too much for it to be called one.

"So good!" she says pitchily, as if your cock were actual food that's left a lasting first impression. "Mm, oh, you're so big and long, sir. I love how your precum tastes. But I want the, the real cum from you, too."

"Wonyoung…"

There's her name again, never leaving your thoughts but departing from your lips. You rise from the edge of the bed and poke your dick against the inside of her cheek, and God, does she look adorable. It feels good, too.

"Mmm, mmm! You'll give it to me, won't you?" Wonyoung looks up at you expectantly, speaking between effortless blowing. "You'll give plenty of cum for Wonyoung, right?"

"If you keep blowing me like that, I might as well."

The last three words come all rambled against each other, tied closely between syllables as you're losing your breath. Dragging your cockhead against Wonyoung's tongue and cheeks brings you a lot closer than you'd like, but you really don't want to deny her of what she wants. You'd love to spoil her with numerous shots of semen, all over her beautiful and angelic face, plus inside her prepared mouth.

"Oh, then I'll keep doing it." She giggles mischievously. Your hips are contained by her hands as she starts to bob her head. You gasp as you fill her throat and part its tightness. Her tongue teases your balls pressing against her lips and your throbbing veins. "Mmm, like this, sir? C'mon, fuck my throat. Give me your cum."

You aren't going to deny her of that either. Your cock enters the depths of her throat with the help of your fists pulling onto Wonyoung's braids. She lets out soft grunts whenever you thrust, and soon, her effortless blowing becomes difficult to replicate.

It's sadistic pleasure when her gags stimulate your cock even further, as if she were just another pretty little fuckdoll whose purpose is none other than that, and her mouth opens wider for air only to be filled again with cock. Her breaths are far away, and with your musky scent filling her nostrils, she can't even get oxygen. Spit and gags are all you can hear aside from your own heavy groans and Wonyoung's whines. A world outside of sex with her doesn't exist at the moment—it's just you and her, and there's no turning back.

And, even with only you and her in this universe, you still get lost in the warm wet pleasure of her mouth.

The merciless assaults you do unto her face, using what's supposed to be the visual of the century being displayed in billboards nationwide as your personal fuckhole, make both of you scream. Like an experiment gone wrong, you explode in Wonyoung's mouth. Her drool slides down her chin as her tongue sticks out, trying to catch the hosed eruptions of semen into her mouth. She wants it all inside her, and there's no excuses that can be made for drops gone wasted.

That's what the rest of her face is for. You pull out and spray your cum on her. More explodes

"Sir, oh, sir, that's so much!" Wonyoung opens her mouth wide and sticks out her tongue, her eyes closed. "Yes, thank you, I'll take all of it!"

There are promises all over the world that are broken everyday, but Wonyoung keeps hers, true to her word: hands on her knees, like the obedient little maid she is, she lets your mess launch into her mouth and face. Even when some get into her hair, or a few specks roll down her maid outfit, she stays still and lets the tide take its toll on her.

It settles eventually, like all things do at some point. But it's made clear that this sex thing won't—you still want more. Like lust and gluttony, the sin of greed has taken over you. You long for more of Wonyoung, for her everything, knowing that this might be the last night you're ever allowed to see her again. They're sure to be watching everything going on.

You stand to lock the door. As the latch falls into place as well as the dresser table for extra security, Wonyoung's eyes sparkle; it means that the two of you aren't done yet.

"You're going to give me the real thing, right, sir?" A good pet and a good girl, Wonyoung crawls, following your steps, and sets her used face on your knee when you sit back down. "Right? Please say I'm right."

You laugh. After stroking her hair, you wipe the cum off her face with your thumb and offer it to Wonyoung. She sucks on it, as expected. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving? I thought you didn't want to do this."

"Oh, but I do, sir. I wanted to but I was scared… but I'm not scared anymore. I want you and your cock inside me, now."

You dig your thumb deeper into her tongue. Wonyoung whimpers, forced to open her mouth wider. "I'm afraid you don't get to make the rules around here, Wonyoung," you taunt. "But maybe if you tell me what you want, I'll give it to you."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not? But don't get your hopes up, Wony."

"Hahmm, okay." Wonyoung's finger dimples her chin. "I want you to fuck me."

"Dirty little mouth you got there."

Wonyoung blushes. "You made me like this, sir. It's your fault. I want you to take responsibility."

"In what way?"

"No…"

"I need you to be more specific, doll," you say. You raise her chin upwards. She juts her bottom lip out. "I'm risking everything here for you. Tell me what you want."

"I want sir to fuck me… to fill me up like I'm his little breeding toy." Wonyoung squirms. She's getting turned on at her own words. "Yes, yes, I want that—I know it'll hurt because I haven't been fucked by a cock as big as his, but I don't care. I want you to fill my insides and fill every hole. I want you to make it last."

"Even if we might never get to see each other again? Even if you might lose your job?"

"I don't care if I do, sir. All I want is you."

"You're a desperate little thing, aren't you, Wonyoung?" you ask, smiling a little. "But that's good enough for me. Get on the bed."

Wonyoung obeys a little too fast for someone who's only met you once. Where is the hesitation from earlier? Out of the window—she's on all fours on the mattress, skirted ass and pussy jut out. She's shameless, bold, and you certainly wouldn't have thought she'd be this weak for cock if you had only met her outside of this hotel. Her angelic looks just sweep out all possibilities of sluttiness, or at least, you would have thought so, because why is she whining helplessly right now, all for your dick?

Her soft sounds are subliminal messages. They tell you to spank her soft ass and have your way with her. They're so powerful that you do exactly that: you draw your hand back as far as you could and slap Wonyoung's ass cheek. Her knees tremble, and she's whispering your soft honorific over and over.

"Sir, please," Wonyoung whispers. "No more. I need you right now."

She doesn't need to say it when her soft, virginal cunt dribbles a waterfall of wetness. You make it a point to let your fingers slap its puffy lips as well. It sends the little maid crying out in pain, but it couldn't be that if she's spreading her legs more, right?

"Need your cock inside me," she says. She winces and cringes through the spanks. "Mm! Need it to ruin me, sir! Need it to make your maid too tired to work, please, please, please!"

"You're risking your job here, Wony," you say, a proud smirk on your face as you remind her of what's at stake, "you're risking everything just for my cock. And you've only met me once. My god, you really are a slut."

"Mhmm, I am!"

"And you know what happens to bad little maids like you, right?" Throwing one last harsh spank, you lean over to whisper in her ear. "They get this."

Wonyoung screams a ramble of curses when your cock enters her. You suppose she's truthful about never having done much of this before; she's painfully tight. Grunts already depart from your lips at the first few thrusts.

"Jesus fucking Christ." You're hypnotized by her reddened ass bouncing against your stomach as you drill into her. Your hands are wrapped tightly around her little waist to feel more of the round cheeks clap.

"Sir!" she shouts. She never gives you a break; her vaginal walls are always swallowing your length and keeping most of it there. "More, please, more, I need it!"

Wonyoung's pussy is better than just having her do a lap dance on you. It isn't even a debatable matter when it's wet just right for you to slide in and out of her hot warm hole, and tight enough to pleasure your cock like she was designed for fucking. Sizable breasts, pretty dazed face, and slim bod? It's hard to believe that those descriptions do not belong to a sex doll but instead to Wonyoung, but she's becoming one herself also.

That's exactly the reason why you're more than happy to give more to her. You glide your hands everywhere, feeling her beautiful body almost worshipfully. You're afraid to break her; she's so slim that you might hurt her with one wrong move, but your fear doesn't really match up with how mercilessly you're pounding her, how you're forcing her to scream out your honorifics as if the walls were soundproof.

You're worried, to be honest. You know they're watching, and you know other people are still waiting for their daily routine with her. You know that the two of you could get in trouble that extends to more than a simple scolding. More clarity would have hit you like a brick wall in your way if it weren't for Wonyoung screaming:

"Yes, yes, yes, fuck me like that! Ha– oh!"

Wonyoung lets out a tiny exhale at your hands pulling on her braids. With the help of the tugs, your eyes enjoy the sight of her expressions contorting with the pleasure and pain. One second, she's pursing her lips and her eyes are wide open, and in the other millisecond her mouth hangs with yelps and gasps. Wonyoung is not afraid to show how she feels, which motivates you to keep pounding. Every flush drill into her naked lower body draws another orgasmic expression on her pretty face.

"That's right, Wony likes having her little pussy stretched out," you growl. Sex might as well be an exercise; you're straining your hips with how hard you pull out and push, and getting your hands sore as they grasp her braids. Wonyoung is merely your equipment. "You do, don't you? Pretending you're an innocent babygirl just to tempt me?"

"Y-yes," she says, biting her lip. "I love sir's hard cock! I love how it hurts, oh yes—"

"Of course you do, baby. It doesn't matter what I do to you, you'll always cum for me. You'll put everything on the, fuck, line just for my dick."

Wonyoung squeals throughout firm rubs on her clit. Her lower body sways and flinches, and she's beginning to struggle to keep herself up. Luckily, there's your grip on her braids to keep her upright, to keep her in position for fucking.

"That's right, sir," she tells you. Her words are cut off by tiny gasps. "I'll always cum for you, I want to be the one you use forever. I don't care if we get caught, I don't care, I just want you."

"Of course. Nobody can fuck you as good as me. You're mine to ruin. Now cum for me like a good girl, Wony. Don't hold back."

She nods. She's almost there. Just a few more sunken thrusts into her warm pussy, and she's going to lose it. It's an ending she actually looks forward to. Being able to squeeze around you and to sheen your girth with squirt seems like an achievable goal. It doesn't even have to be time-based, too, she realizes, when her legs shake once more.

"Ohhhh, fuck! Sir, oh my god, sir, I'm cumming!"

Dragging your penis against her textured sensitive spot, you fuck Wonyoung into an orgasm. It arrives (you smile at the pun) like a heavy flood. If you were the one to spray your cum on her earlier, now it's reversed—Wonyoung's vagina squirts a mess of girl cum and nectar onto your lower body and the little clothes that remained on you. She's screaming so loud that you bet even soundproof walls wouldn't be able to hold back her shouts. No, the walls and windows would shatter, and the bed would break into pieces as well, with the help of her limbs scrambling to steady herself. Wonyoung has gone crazy, finally corrupted to the core as it contains all of your plentiful cum.

You tug her braided ponytails up and let her kneeling form rest against your chest. Her head rests against your shoulder, and from there, you hear her muttering senseless sentences. They can't even be called so when they're fragments of words that don't mix well together, but fortunately, you understand what she means: you fucked her really well.

It could go two ways with Wonyoung when you start to kiss her neck and shoulders: fortunate or unfortunate. She might be ready to have her other hole filled, but on the other hand, she might need more time to recover. But that isn't a matter you linger on when kissing Wonyoung's pretty collarbone and shoulders is a better task to fulfill. She's gasping softly, unable to moan because of losing her voice in her orgasm earlier, but you still work your magic.

"Sir…" she mutters. Exhaustion rides her body like a carousel. It makes her weak, and your kissing doesn't help aid her situation.

"Yes, Wony?"

She leans back more into your neck, and curves her head to the side so that her words play out next to your ear: "I want more."

4. RABBITHOLE

"You sure?" you say. This is probably one of the few times she has had sex, and it's only one night. Maybe it's going too fast?

"Does sir not want to fill my little asshole up?" Wonyoung asks. She guides your fingers to her sides. As if her body and your hands were magnets, they join instantly. "Doesn't he want Wony anymore?"

God knows what Wonyoung referring to herself in third person does to you. Your cock hardens and bumps her ass cheeks, and you’re required to tighten your hold on her hips to maintain your stability. "I—I want you, Wonyoung," you say. "But are you sure you're ready?"

She blushes. It's little caring questions like these that put her into the most passive state imaginable. When that state of mind imprisons her, she only wants to make you feel good. "Yes, sir."

There it is. It's your cue to switch positions, make use of as little time as possible to recover, and get ready.

You lather her asshole with makeshift lube. You drag squirt from her pussy to her rear end, using it as lube. Wonyoung, now sitting on the bed, watches. She's overcome with lust. Her puckered hole twitches as you tease your cock against it.

"Don't tease me, sir,” begs Wonyoung. She parts her leg a little more, then leans back into the mattress. The way she’s looking at you with those sultry yet pure eyes and how her legs are spread underneath the maid dress are straight out of a porn. Wonyoung’s so tempting, so irresistible, that you wonder every now and then if she’s even real. She’s a walking doll from head to toe, made to fuck and be fucked, which leaves the question: why aren’t you filling her asshole up yet?

You bunch together a whole lot of effort to push your cock through her hole. It’s a little less wet than her pussy, but god, is it tight. Wonyoung moans softly and tries to relax, but every push makes her impulsively clench down. You’re afraid that you might blow early, and you really don’t want this to end yet.

“Sir, sir,” she says, eyes widening to the size of saucers when you grab her legs and push them back. “Fuck, it’s so good, I can’t—”

You groan a little. “Yes you can, Wony.” Your thumbs slide up and down on her thighs affectionately. “You’re my good girl, right? You can take it.”

“Hnnn.” Wonyoung shuts her eyes. Her moans and whimpers are a series of pleasure that almost makes you forget about being careful rather than urge you to be. You’d love to hear more of those pretty moans from her, but she can’t make them unless she’s comfortable. “Is it all in yet, sir?”

Her asshole has taken in most of your rod. You suppose that’s good for a first-timer. It’s good enough for a little white lie. “Yep. Good girl. Can I move now?”

“Okay… just be careful.”

With a girl like Wonyoung, careful sex is out of the question. But oh, you try, you truly do. Make use of your shaft covered with Wonyoung’s pussy juices to lube up the journey inside her asshole. Let her wet cunt make it easier to slip into her tight, brown hole. You enjoy the helpless, corrupted look in her face and the feel of her pillowy thighs in your hands, and you can safely presume that she’s enjoying it, too. Soft hums of pain still barely make it out from between her knit lips, but her eyes roll back—it’s a different feeling, for sure, yet it feels good.

“Fuck, Wony, you’re a tight fit.”

“Thank you, sir,” says Wonyoung. Her pale cheeks have turned red again.

She rubs a finger over her nub so more of her juices can lubricate her rear end. It’s effective; although Wonyoung writhes with the double pleasure, the unusual method makes it easier to fuck her. Now, thrusting inside her is almost like doing so to her pussy: tight and wet. Her ass ripples beautifully, and her expressions catch you off guard. Her jaw is on the ground and her eyes look upwards, as if doing so helped ease the experience. However, she shuts them, as making that expression makes you hammer harder into her butt.

“That’s it, sir, it feels so good now. You’re so big inside me.”

“Deeper then?” you challenge her. You push her legs deeper into the mating press position, and you can visibly see her pussy clench around nothing but air. You’re allowed to travel deeper inside her butt this way, and Wonyoung couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“Yes, hmmm! So hard, sir, I can feel you throbbing!”

Does a sir kink exist? If not, it does now—Wonyoung’s polite honorific has become the easiest method to harden and lengthen your erection. Each time she calls you that, with those same watery eyes and puffy lips, you’re driven to deliver hammered thrusts in her hole, whichever one. In a way, she’s corrupted you, too. If you erased the former innocent maid she is, she’s transformed you into a man who can only go weak for her. Other women have no effect on you when the hotel maid is the one you’d rather pin down the bed and fuck till she passes out.

And she doesn’t even know it.

“Fuck, Wonyoung.” You give in to your impulsive thrusting, wringing screams of pleasure from her throat. “What the fuck are you doing to me, hm?”

Wonyoung’s next inhalation of air is delayed due to the obstacle that is your hand wrapped around her throat. She whines out. “Sir, oh my god—”

“This is all your plan, isn’t it, you naughty girl? You want me to do anything for you. You want my cock so bad that you make me want you, too. And for what, hm? For a quick dicking down? You’re fucking pathetic.”

Degrading word after degrading word leaves your mouth, but each makes Wonyoung thrust her core upwards to meet your clashing sex. She’s become paler, weaker, sluttier—all in the span of your furious sex session. You’ve no idea why you’re saying all those words that would hurt a normal person’s feelings and dignity, especially when Wonyoung is too angelic and pretty to be guilty of anything, but if it makes Wonyoung look like she’s on the edge of cumming at all times, then you’ll stick to that plan.

“I bet you like walking around in your little outfit, Wony, and wearing those pigtails, too, because you know people are going to look. Is that what you want? For people to notice how goddamned fuckable you are? Because if it is, it’s fucking working.”

Pausing is a faraway dream; you keep on rambling, and your thrusts remain rapid. A stream of ruined breaths squeeze out of Wonyoung’s mouth. Her pillow-like cheeks clench tighter around your cock, as if it were agreeing.

“Sir,” coughs out Wonyoung. Tears spill down her face, but she keeps on rubbing her small clit, and, on occasion, fingerfucking her cunt. “I’m going—god, I’m going to—”

“Cum? Do it, then. Cum all over my dick, but we’re not finished. The night is still young, Wony; we have all the time in the world.”

Releasing Wonyoung’s throat does nothing to help her breathe when your lips crash into hers immediately. She’s screaming into your mouth. You propel yourself closer to orgasm with your thrusting, then fully cream her butthole. Wonyoung’s cum squirts all over the place: on the bed sheets, your shirt, and your cock. She stops rubbing herself, apparently giving up on taking more, but you continue the loop for her.

Her screams continue. They’re a melody to accompany your thrusts, and your sleep, for you collapse on the bed, tired and weak.

You'll meet your end today. They already found out. That's definitely certain; mandatory love is no winning game. Love in general isn't, especially when it's founded on merely scrawny and lustful sex. The lines between lust and love blur, and it becomes more dangerous than it actually is.

So, now that you remember how all this—a young, gorgeous woman by the name of Jang Wonyoung in the crook of your arm, her hand on your cock and glossy lips on yours—start, what do you do now?

Well, for one, you have to reminisce about the past and pray for there to be a future, just one more time. You've to live in what once was as if the former days were the current ones and what's now is nothing to worry about. But you shouldn't dwell too long; the rapid knocking on your door is growing louder and louder.

#kpop smut #izone smut #ive smut #jang wonyoung smut #wonyoung smut #izone wonyoung smut #ive wonyoung smut #wonyoung #jang wonyoung #male reader #x reader #reader insert #pov smut

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hisui-dreamer · 3 months

Text

trial romance

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

Synopsis: since you were going to be put in an arranged marriage anyways, you decided to let yourself experience a normal teenage romance first!

Tags: fluff, slow burn, rent-a-boyfriend mallesu, mutual pining nrc and sra are mixed schools, reader has an elder brother, reader is royalty

Word count: 2.7k+

Notes: woooh sorry for neglecting you mal mal :( i hope this fic makes up for it hehe

Masterlist

You've never really known love.

Born as the second child of a small, but affluent kingdom, you're not sure you have the right to complain. Each day dawns with the assurance of never experiencing hunger, attended to by countless devoted maids catering to your every whim. It's a life of opulence, one that stands in stark contrast to the struggles endured by those grappling with meager wages just to survive.

Still, there remains an ache within you, a yearning for a love that exists in the enchanting tales of old. A love so untainted that it remains steadfast in any circumstance, a love capable of cleansing away all your sorrows, becoming your very reason of existence.

But such a love seems as distant as the stars. After all, you're bound by the responsibilities as the second princess. Unlike your elder brother who inherits the throne, you are a mere pawn in the intricate game of politics, destined for an arranged marriage rather than a fufiling romance.

In a rare display of benevolence, your father granted you a fleeting taste of freedom, sending you off to live under a false identity at the renowned Royal Sword Academy on Sage Island. Three precious years, promising a respite from the constraints of duty, and you promised to seize each moment and savour the life of a normal person who yearned for love.

Which brings you back to the present moment.

"Jellyfish are such fascinating creatures, don't you think so dear?"

The man stands tall beside you, his golden locks catching the ambient blue glow within the aquarium, lending him an almost ethereal air. His emerald eyes fix upon you, awaiting your response.

You return his gaze, captivated by the way the light dances in his eyes. A soft smile graces your lips as you consider his question.

"They are indeed fascinating," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of admiration. "They move with such grace and fluidity, it's like they're dancing through the water."

He hums at your response, fix focus shifting back onto the creatures drifting in the display.

He's a peculiar man, no doubt. It's puzzling to fathom the sort of individual who would boldly advertise their boyfriend rental services on Magicam. Especially someone as strikingly handsome as he appears to be; you would have assumed he'd have no shortage of admirers or suitors.

But you suppose you're not really any better, the person who hired said rentable boyfriend.

Though you're a bit ashamed to admit, you harbor a certain discomfort when it comes to meeting new people. And with your identity as a merchant's daughter, you've had few interactions with your schoolmates, leaving you with a shortage of friends, let alone a romantic relationship.

It was in then that you stumbled upon his listing.

And now, here you are, on your first ever date, exploring an aquarium together.

"Do you mind telling me what dates you're free?" you ask casually as you stroll towards the tropical section, bathed in the vivid hues of exotic marine life.

He trails alongside you, his presence exuding an air of calmness. "Dates...?" he muses, his tone tinged with intrigue. "Ah, you wish to see me another time, I presume?"

You cast your gaze downwards, a hint of bashfulness coloring your cheeks. "Yes... I would like that."

He contemplates for a moment, a hint of concern crossing his features. "Hmm... My fees are quite high you see. Your finances may suffer if you spend too much time with me."

"Hmph. You don't have to be concerned. This money has nowhere else to go anyways," you scoff.

His gaze lingers on you with a hint of curiosity, before a gentle warmth softens his features as he nods. "Very well," he murmurs, his hand reaching out to envelop yours in a tender clasp. With a delicate gesture, he presses a fleeting kiss upon the back of your hand, his voice resonating with anticipation, "I look forward to seeing you more often, my dear."

Aquarium Date ✅

First Date ✅

"You seem quite troubled by this book. Is something the matter?" Mal asked, peering over the edge of his book, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

He sat across from you, textbooks and notebooks scattered between you, each page turned with a quiet reverence. The library was bathed in a soft glow, the gentle hum of whispers filling the air like a comforting melody.

You glanced up from your own notes, running a hand through your hair in a gesture of resignation. "I have a test coming up for Magic Analysis, but I always get so overwhelmed with information I forget the details."

"Magic Analysis... Perhaps you're approaching it from the wrong angle," Mal suggested, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "What if we break it down into smaller, more manageable chunks? We could create a study plan together."

The idea sparked a glimmer of hope within you, the prospect of tackling the daunting material with a structured approach feeling suddenly within reach. "That... actually sounds like a good idea," you admitted, a tentative smile forming on your lips.

"Alright," Mal began, his eyes alight with enthusiasm. "Shall I give you a demonstration?"

There's something to his smile that worries you slightly.

Study Date ✅

The quaint café bustled with life, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet scent of pastries.

Mal's eyes sparkled curiously as he scanned the menu, his fingers tracing the various options with keen interest. "This place is quite charming," he remarked.

You smiled, a flutter of warmth blooming in your chest at his appreciation. "I'm glad you like it. I heard it's one of the best spots in town. Have you decided what to order?"

His brows furrow lightly. "I'm not sure... They all look quite enticing..."

"How about a parfait then? You can choose different flavours of ice cream too," you suggested, gesturing to the other page.

Malleus's gaze followed your gesture, his eyes alight with anticipation. "Ice cream, you say? That sounds delightful," he replied, a spark of childlike excitement dancing in his expression.

You couldn't help but mirror that smile.

Cute Cafe Date ✅

The night stretched out before you like an endless canvas, painted with a myriad of twinkling stars scattered across the indigo sky. Cradled in the comforting embrace of a soft blanket spread out on the grass, you lay your head gently upon Mal's shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath as you gaze upwards.

"It's breathtaking..." you murmur softly, your voice barely above a whisper, not wanting to disturb the tranquil stillness of the night.

His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of affection. "The sight never fails to captivate me," he responds, his voice tinged with awe. "I'm often reminded of how quickly time passes when I stargaze."

Lifting your head slightly, you steal a glimpse of his face, illuminated by the ethereal glow of the night sky. "Ah... Fae are known for their longevity, aren't they?" you remark, reaching up to tuck a stray lock of his blonde hair behind his pointed ears. "Is that part of the reason why you became a rentable boyfriend?"

He smiles ruefully. "Partly so," he admits. "My mentor suggested it as a means of broadening my perspective and gaining new experiences.

A giggle escapes your lips. What's with that? To think you're doing this for educational purposes..." you tease, though the chill of reality briefly brushes against your thoughts. "I hope you've at least had fun?"

"Absolutely." He envelops both of your hands in his own, his gaze unwaveringly earnest as it locks onto yours. "My dear, I've thoroughly enjoyed every second spent with you,"

A blush tinges your cheeks at his sincerity, and you respond softly, "It's the same for me. I had so much fun when I was with you,"

You find yourself ensnared by the ethereal presence of the man before you, his proximity stirring a flurry of emotions within you. His face, mere inches from your own, is illuminated by the soft glow of the twinkling stars, their light mirrored in the depths of his serene emerald eyes. Your heart quickens its pace, thumping so loudly in your chest that it threatens to drown out his next words.

"...Can I kiss you?"

You feel yourself nod slightly.

He tentatively closes the distance between you, his movements deliberate yet achingly tender. His hand, warm and reassuring, cups your cheek, his touch sending shivers of electricity dancing across your skin. The scent of night blossoms and distant pine trees fills your senses, mingling with the heady anticipation swirling in the air.

The kiss is tender at first, a tentative exploration of each other, as if testing the waters of this newfound intimacy. But soon, a surge of desire courses through you, fueling the passion that blooms between you. You lose yourself in the moment, surrendering to the intoxicating whirlwind of emotions that sweeps you away, leaving you breathless and utterly consumed by him.

The sequence of events that followed remains a hazy blur in your memory, the details shrouded in a fog of uncertainty. All you recall with clarity is Mal's familiar presence beside you as he walked you back to the imposing gates of your school hand-in-hand, just as he'd always done.

Just like clockwork, you retrieved a thick envelope from the depths of your bag, its contents weighing heavily on your mind. "Hold this," you instructed quietly.

He stared curiously at your actions. With a practiced fluidity, you extracted a handful of bills from your wallet.. With unwavering composure, you extended the money towards him, your tone devoid of sentimentality. "This is the bonus for kissing," pressing the bills into his palm.

Leaning forward on tiptoes, you planted a chaste farewell kiss upon his cheek, the gesture a stark contrast to the emotionless exchange that had just transpired. "See you next time," you murmured, before turning away.

Each clack of your heels against the pavement resonated within him like a mournful toll, echoing the hollowness that had taken root in his chest. He watched, transfixed, as the last sliver of your silhouette dissolved into the far distance, the bittersweet echoes of your footsteps fading into the twilight.

Dark, menacing clouds stretched ominously across the vast expanse of the sky, casting an eerie pall over the landscape below. Before you realised it, raindrops cascaded from the heavens in a frensied blur.

Stargazing Date✅

First Kiss ✅

The evening air was cool as he led you through the labyrinthine streets of the old city, the cobblestones whispering tales of centuries past beneath your feet. Towering above you, ancient buildings adorned with weathered stone facades loomed like silent sentinels guarding the secrets of bygone eras.

"This way," he beckoned, his voice tinged with excitement as he pulled you along into a narrow alleyway veiled in shadows.

With eager steps, you followed his lead, anticipation coursing through your veins as you delved deeper into the heart of the historic district.

"You know," you mused, breaking the silence as you walked, "when I said you could choose our next date, I never imagined it would involve a trip to the City of Flowers. Have you been here before?"

"I have," he answered. "I was invited here once. There was a magnificent festival here, but I was more interested in the gargoyles."

"The... gargoyles?" you echoed, casting an intrigued glance at the statues that adorned the buildings around you. "There do seem to be quite a few of them."

"They've watched over these buildings for centuries, warding off evil spirits and protecting those within."

"Really? That sounds fascinating," you murmured. "Would you mind telling me more?"

A smile graced his lips, his eyes gleaming with a unbridled glee. "Gladly," he agreed, his voice reverent. "Each one has a story to tell, waiting to be heard by those who seek to listen."

You listened intently as he recounted the legends surrounding these ancient sentinels, his words weaving a captivating narrative that transported you through time. As you continued your exploration of the historic buildings, he regaled you with tales of the city's storied past, his words painting vivid pictures of times long gone.

Somewhere along the line, night had descended like a comforting shroud, cloaking the city in a blanket of darkness. Now, you found yourselves strolling along the tranquil riverbank, the rhythmic lapping of the waves providing a soothing cadence to your thoughts.

Your three years of time is almost up.

Soon, you'd be back in the confines of your childhood room, the familiar walls suffocating with the promise of the same, predictable routine. Then, like a ship launched by an unforgiving wind, you'd be whisked away to wed the spouse your father had chosen, leaving behind your fleeting moments of freedom and the memories far away in your teenage years.

Mal glances sideways at you, noting the unusual quiet that had settled upon you like a shadow. "Is everything alright, my dear?" he inquires, his voice laced with concern.

You pause, grappling with the weight of your impending confession, searching for the right words to convey your thoughts. Finally, you draw in a deep breath, steeling yourself for the revelation to come.

"No... It's not," you confess, your voice faltering slightly as you let go of his hand. "Mal, this... this will be the last time I'm hiring you."

Confusion furrows his brow as he searches your eyes for clarity. "But... why?" he responds, a note of sadness creeping into his tone.

"Because..." you begin, your gaze drifting towards the glistening surface of the river, unable to withstand his earnest gaze. "Because I'm leaving Sage Island. I'll be graduating and returning home, and... and I won't require your services anymore."

"I... see."

A heavy silence descends between you, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a tangible presence. And as you continued your stroll along the riverbank, the knowledge that this would be your final night together lingered like a bittersweet farewell to the memories you had shared.

His Choice Date ✅

Breakup ✅

You've never liked riding in carriages.

With each clop of the horses' hooves, the entire contraption lurched, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It was a waltz of unease, the sway and groan of leather and wood a discordant melody against the cobblestone streets.

The confines of the cramped cabin also felt suffocating, a gilded cage that further severed your connection to your freedom. But the carriage rolled on, carrying you not just through the mountainous terrain, but towards a future you desperately wished to outrun.

Malleus Draconia was your spouse-to-be.

Throughout your school days, whispers of the famed fae prince from Night Raven College echoed in the halls. Tales spun of his unmatched prowess in Spelldrive, where he emerged victorious alone against all teams, his formidable magical abilities casting a long shadow of fear over his opponents. His towering and menacing presence, coupled with the dark horns that crowned his head, only added to the mystique that surrounded him. You could only hope that beneath this formidable exterior lay a heart capable of kindness, granting you the chance for a peaceful existence.

Though, you wouldn't say you could forgive him for having such a similar name to Mal.

As the carriage comes to a halt, the sound of hooves and wheels ceases, accompanied by a palpable sense of anticipation. With the opening of the carriage door, your guards stand at attention, their expressions solemn yet resolute. "Your Highness, we have arrived," one of them announces, his voice carrying the weight of the moment.

With a deep breath, you gather your resolve, steeling yourself for the encounter that awaits beyond the carriage doors.

Just as your foot grazes the carriage step, a gloved hand extends towards you, reaching out towards you with a graceful assurance.. You glance up to meet the gaze of your betrothed, and for a moment, time seems to stand still.

His eyes are a familiar shade of emerald green. A shade that's grown to be your favourite, in fact.

"M-Mal?" you stammer, the name escaping your lips before you can stop it.

"It's lovely to see you again, my dear," he smiles, as radiant as the sun.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#lilia definitely saw what teens were doing and asked malleus to become a rentable bf #“good learning experiences” he just wanted mal to meet more ppl and hopefully fall in love #and fell he did :)#he helps mal to disguise hiss identity by making his hair blond and his horns temporarily invisible #but his eyes remain the same #since eyes are the windows to your soul hehe #if ppl like this fic i might write a short bonus where it's lilia lecturing mal how to act like a good boyfriend hahaha #twstnexus #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland malleus #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader

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grindsta · 3 months

Text

GAME FEATURES

THIS IS A REALLY LONG POST

There are SO MANY features in The Sims 3 that I keep learning more and more each day, so I decided to start keeping track of all of them. Some of these I've known myself, but most of them come from Reddit and TS Forum.

I'll keep on updating everytime I find new things.

Features are under the cut!

Gameplay

Careers/University/Skills

You can sign autographs as a rock star by clicking on a random building (bookstore, theater, stadium, etc.) and make cash. You can only do it once a week and have them perform the action yourself (similar to the vaccination event you do as a doctor).

If you send a Sim to college, you can get a financial aid grant every 24 hours. Just click on the administration building and select “apply for financial aid”. The better your grades, the more money you’ll get.

Traveling to the past with ambition’s time machine, random events will change your household’s present. (Change careers or add family members).

Sims who reach the highest criminal career level glow red. This is bad for relationships with Sims with Good, Friendly, and Family Oriented traits. Having maxed out the Charisma skill will mostly prevent it, or even throw “Jar of Friendship” potion at them. Although it is good for relationships with Sims with Evil and Insane traits.

When some rectangles of one (or more) skill is highlighted, it’s because it’s the requirement for the Sim job.

If you protest about low wages, you have the possibility of increasing the wages of everyone.

Parent Sims can have a wish for their kids to have specific careers.

You will get gifts for working on your job for 5 years.

Singer Sims could sell their albums to other Sims.

If you click on your Sim work building when they’re at work, you can demand a raise. but if their mood is bad or their relationship with their boss is bad, this can get them fired. You can also go out with your boss and ask for a promotion.

Sims can die while you’re lifeguarding.

Your Sim can get caught if they call in fake sick.

Sims in the medical career can follow up with patients by calling them.

You can fry beetles if you are an evil private investigator (if you have a magnifying glass).

Your Sim can be an evil politician.

Ghost hunters can “appease ghosts” at the graveyard.

Lifeguard and firefighter sims can “demonstrate CPR” on another Sim as a romantic action.

You can select what type of sandcastle to build if you have a high enough skill.

Your Sim can get tattooed and tattoo other Sims. It’s a hidden skill that, if low, tattoos will look like child drawings. You can also get the tattoo removed.

Maids

Some maids actually don’t do their work, you have to fire them so a new one comes up, and is, hopefully, better.

Most Maids will have at least neat and/or perfectionists, brave and flirty, or charismatic traits. Some Maids are also Kleptomaniacs. Exceptions to this are: Delicia Hoover from Bridgeport and Simon Swift from Barnacle Bay, they are Slobs, which means they will never actually clean your House.

Maids will quit if they see Bonehilda in your house.

Toddler/Child/Teen

Kids will gain skills if someone reads them skill books to sleep.

When a witch sim does their homework they accidentally get it done all at once by magic. They grab the blue notebook, but the green bar completes itself immediately and they look confused for a second. In case they fail to do homework by magic, their whole body gets burnt.

When children and teens are asleep, you can click on them to select a dream, and then they’ll wake up with a moodlet related to it. While the moodlet is active, you can get a special moodlet if their dream comes true. While still sleeping, the game will notify if the dream turned into a nightmare and they will get a negative moodlet.

Toddlers and Kids can build hidden skills with certain toys.

You can put kids in time out and they will stand in a corner crying.

Toys can go on the crib.

Babies can get diaper rash if using the changing station from The Sims 3 Store.

If you take a child of the bouncer, they get bratty and mad.

Children can hold a bear while talking to an adult.

Kids can read the newspapers to see what baked goods sell better.

When you get robbed children can get the lifetime wish to become a cop or a thief. They can also want to become a doctor after seeing someone dying or getting a new sibling, become a musician after seeing someone jam, become a creature robot cross-breeder after seeing a ghost. become a firefighter after a house fire, become a magician after seeing a sim use their magic, become a singer while singing with their imaginary friend.

Child witch Sims have stabilizers on their brooms.

Kids can get sick from prison food.

Your Sim can chat with toddlers through their Teddy Bears.

Parents can play with their toddlers in the ocean.

Children inherit the effects of some Genie Wishes.

Your Sim can get detention if they slack off in school.

You can create custom and random baby DNA at the hospital.

Children can fight teens.

Parents will have a higher friendship level with their baby with an at home birth than a hospital birth.

Traits

Inappropriate sims can take sponge baths from a sink.

Your Sim can have a hidden trait called “advanced art training” earned by completing the “Skilled Painting” opportunity acquired through working in the art appraiser career. Sims with this trait can paint paintings of any skill level (0 to 9), instead of paintings appropriate only to their painting skill level.

Bookworm sims can join the book club by computer and get mailed books.

Unlucky Sims can’t die. But they can die of transmutation and leave a golden statue.

Party Animals Sims can dance on top of the counter.

Mermaids with the Evil trait can spawn sharks.

Sims with the Green Thumb Trait can Revive Dead Plants.

Brave Sims can ask for a raise.

Frugal Sims will cut coupons from the newspaper.

Daredevil Sims can “play with fire”, and will stick their hands in the fire and pull them back out until their fun motive is full.

If your Sim has the hydrophobic trait they cannot Woohoo or Try for Baby in the shower.

Being in Bot mode (Bot fan trait) will keep your sim from aging.

Sims with the daredevil trait can eat bugs.

Sims who have the childish trait have the option to read a toddler’s book like any other. Others will get the message “Sim can only read this book to a toddler.”

The Good trait Sims could accuse of being meanspirited.

Sims with the Good trait can donate to charity.

Sims with the “Never Nude” trait shower in their bathing clothes.

Moodlets

If you click on a negative need moodlet, the game will have the sim do the activity to fill that need.

If you gift your child Sims too many times in a row, they get a “spoiled” moodlet.

The creepy magical gnome (the one that kinda looks like a devil) will sometimes spawn next to your Sims bed at night with glowing red eyes. Your Sims can get a creeped out moodlet.

Buy a baby, toddler, or child a teddy bear because it gives them a special moodlet when they sleep while having it in their inventory.

You get a moodlet when you have a blog and something from the blog’s theme happens in your Sims real life.

The “rejuvenated” and “completely at ease” moodlet prevents the horrified noodlet from exploring the catacombs.

Sims can make snow angels face down, and when they do, they get the frosty face moodlet.

Mourning over the dead Sim’s gravestone would reduce the negative effect of “Mourning” moodlet.

If you send too many secret admirers texts to the wrong Sim, they will receive a negative “being stalked” moodlet.

You get a moodlet saying “Brrrr! This is cold!” when your Sim sits on ice furniture.

When swimming in the snow you will get a moodlet saying “Polar Bear Club”.

Romance/Woohoo

You can woohoo or make out behind the scenes at the theater hall if you have two romantically involved Sims visit at the same time. It works for any rabbit hole you can visit (town hall, military base, science lab…).

Using the Time Machine to Try for a Baby in the past will result in a biological teen showing up later that day.

Try Online Dating on the computer.

If your Sim is dating someone and that someone is dating someone else, you can tell them they are cheating.

Sims gets a fertility boost after getting a romantic massage.

Sims can get kicked out of theaters for woohooing.

You can give a cinnamon kiss when you flavored your food with it.

If a Sim marries a plumbot the creator of said plumbot officially becomes their parent-in-law.

If your Sim feels betrayed from an unfaithful marriage they can rebound kiss.

Money

To make money, go to the science skill tree until you have enough skill to take samples from gems, and then clone them using the science station.

Adopt a bunch of dogs or have a werewolf Sim and make them hunt.

Go through the trash of wealthy households.

Experiment on bugs until you get a plasma bug then sample and clone it. A cat with high-level Hunting skills will also catch them occasionally.

Master the Martial Arts skill and break space rocks on the board breaker and get lots of valuable gems.

Paintings appreciate in value over time and are the best sold when the Sim dies.

Miner holes are treasure chests. You can also make several holes into a cave system.

If you have a philosopher’s stone, you can turn pretty much anything into gold. You run the risk of your sim turning into gold and therefore dying. However, if you have a death flower in your inventory you don’t die and you get to keep the gold statue of your sim - making tones of money because of it.

Pets

If you’re cooking food and have a pet, you can throw scraps to them that they will eat.

You can have a rock as a pet.

You can breed fish.

If a pet bowl is outside, any other animal can eat from it.

Gnomes can encourage and discourage cats and dogs on your lot.

Your Sim can pet their dog while they are lying on the couch.

Horses will eat and destroy the newspaper.

When pet birds die, their bodies don’t disappear, they lay there until cleaned up.

Two small dogs can eat from the automatic feeder at once.

Pets can eat garden plants.

Dogs can howl and cats can meow along with instruments.

Your Sim can drop a fish from your inventory onto the ground and their cat can eat it.

If your Sim dog uses the guard-the-house interaction, it will actually bark at any strays that happen to come by your door.

Foals will get a negative moodlet if their mother isn’t around. However, if a Sim gives lots of love and feeds it when it’s hungry, in a couple of days the moodlet changes to a positive one saying that it’s not missing the mother anymore because of all the care you provided

Death

There are only two graveyards in the game with fully unique and custom graves, and no generic ones. They are the graveyards of Sunset Valley and Riverview. Appaloosa Plains is unique in that it has a pet graveyard.

Burning, electrocution, and starvation are by far the most common causes of death among the preexisting graves, with old age being surprisingly common.

If you make a ghost Sim as a playable Sim and have them paint, all their paintings will get the Simoleon bonus to value from the painter being dead.

Your pets can save your Sim from death.

You can have funerals when a Sim from your household dies.

Small tombstone: Dies before 75,000 lifetime happiness points. Medium tombstone: Dies between 75,000 and 149,000 lifetime happiness points. Large tombstone: Dies at 150,000 and above lifetime happiness points.

Sims Graves have different emblems on them depicting how they died; flames, hands reaching out of water, shark jaws, etc.

Expansions

You can discover islands on Island Paradiso.

Isla Paradiso is full of hidden chests on secret islands.

Sunlight charm spell changes a wolf to their human form.

Some Supernatural portraits & paintings (marked with purple border in Build Buy) change during a Full Moon.

Vampires can raid the hospital and the grocery store.

Misc

When out in the ocean, the Kraken can appear. It can attack and sink your Sims small houseboat. It can spawn into Sunset Valley & Lucky Palms if you go out to the furthest point of the water.

If you have a microphone from university life in your inventory, your Sim can greet other Sims by shouting in their face.

You can plant cheese and eggs.

You can upgrade umbrellas.

You can store elixirs in the fridge.

You can waterski.

Sims can mess up an alchemy spell and become a toad.

Birthday cakes can catch on fire.

There are types of objects that aren’t in the catalog that you can make in the toy machine.

If your sims mess up the weather stone, it can rain flowers.

You can open a tab at a bar and if you can’t pay it, they will add it to your bills.

Aliens can steal space rocks from the science lab.

If you steal someone’s clothes after skinny dipping, they’re too mortified to go again.

If your sims are on fire, they can put themselves out in a shower or bathtub. They also put themselves out in dive wells from World Adventures and if you have a shower in a can.

You can upload your Sim sketches and paintings to the digital frames.

Sims can send thank you notes after receiving wedding gifts.

You can place snack bowls on island countertops.

You can announce aptitude test results to other sims.

Not all adult sims get a Midlife Crisis and there are variables involved.

You can go to therapy during a midlife crisis.

Sims who have body hair can get it waxed.

If you place a professional bar at a gym, with a mixologist, they can make protein shakes for your sims and a weird wheat grass-type drinks, graveyards have the tombstone topper and others. The library has basic drinks but one is “alien brain” and is a skill drink and stacks on the library moodlet and the supernatural bonus, so reading skill books takes way less time.

Sim can free criminals from jail with the mining tool.

Celebrities can’t be abducted by aliens.

You can throw herbs at the fireplace, and it will give you a moodlet that varies depending on what herb you have.

Selling objects in the Consignment store is something you can improve over time.

Your Sim can sue people for slander at City Hall when you’re a celebrity and they spread rumors about you.

You can get arrested for harvesting someone else's plants.

Details

The stones at the bottom of the fishbowl change depending on what you put in it.

Artistic, Can’t Stand Art, Computer Whiz, Evil, Genius, Gloomy, Insane, Neurotic, and Virtuoso Sims all have different and unique painting styles.

Fish can spontaneously breed if you put them in fish tanks.

If you are being robbed, and the police come to put the burglar in handcuffs by their car, while they search your house, you can click on the burglar to set them free. They will even thank you for doing so, promising to make it up to you, although they never do.

Cats can jump onto Sim’s lap and they can pet them.

You can drag the greeting card into a big digital frame.

You can get a “wrong number” call.

Clones will be attracted to the cloned Sim.

Cats can sleep on newspapers.

Sims can get a dirtbag reputation if caught cheating. If caught a lot of times, they get a slimeball reputation.

You can “Play in Sand” in the spots where you painted the terrain with sand.

If you have a big dog and a puppy or a cat and a kitten, they can cuddle together in a big pet bed.

Different bars will serve different food depending on the lot type. You can get onion rings, nachos, and hot wings at the normal lower-tier bars but olive platters and shrimp cocktails are reserved for fancy places like exclusive lounges, vampire lounges, and art galleries.

Sims can get sick eating bar food at the lower-end bars.

You can preview a house before you buy it by clicking on the magnifying glass.

Sims can chat on the bunkbed and interact on the playpen.

Try using “Disco tags” in the cheats menu (Ctrl+Shift+C) and go to the map view.

Sims can read lying on the beach towel.

You can style the time machine.

Bonehilda will fight robbers.

Hydrophobic sims won’t accept a fishbowl as a gift.

Simbots have 0’s and 1’s instead of zzz’s.

Male Sims can leave the toilet sit up.

Sunglasses have the reflex of the world.

There are 6 types of snowman - classic, evil, tragic clown, hockey, Grim Reaper, and alien.

With no couch, sims will play video games sitting on the ground.

There’s a city in the background of the university world.

Sims can have different sitting positions.

When your Sim spouse dies and comes back to life, they come back divorced.

Horses can ride boats.

When Plumbots pee themselves, oil is what gets on the floor.

If you place a rubber duck on the bathtub, Sims play with it while they bathe. If you place “World’s Brew Bubble Bath”, they will have a bubble bath.

You can change the colors of the street lights.

You get a popup when a pregnant Sim enters a costume party (it reveals the number of hours left for the pregnancy to end).

Store items come with new skills.

You can expand the inventory and relationship tab by dragging it.

Your Sim only earns LHP when your Sims mood is in the “bubble” on the Mood Meter,

If a Sim’s mood drops all the way to the bottom (-100), the Sim may simply refuse to do anything, even if directed to by the player. You can send them on vacation but if they become depressed on their vacation, it will be necessary to send them home.

The volcano in Sunlit Tides can erupt.

Ants crawl in and out of a public picnic basket carrying food.

Every time a Sims learning the Painting skill sells a painting directly from the easel there is a 20% chance that the painting will replace a wall decoration item in the local art gallery.

You can spy on neighbors with tab mode.

Your Sims can get bitten by mosquitos.

Sims can chat with other sims while cooking.

Friends can bring their kids over to play with yours.

Resort Staff NPCs sweep the floors of the resort.

Sims can get nauseous from foods with herbs.

Sims with the Asian Culture trait use chopsticks to eat rather than knives and forks.

Ghosts can swim in swimming pools but you can’t see their body under the surface of the water.

You can double-click on the save file you want to play on the main menu screen and it will start the game.

When you have the cheapest washing machine and your Sim tries to stop it from shaking, you will get a “Victory Over Washer” moodlet.

Magic gnomes spawn at random when you do related activities.

The trash bed in buydebug makes you stinky.

If you put your bird cage outside it might fly away.

The doors on cars matter, if a car has 2 doors, 2 Sims will get in, if a car has 4 doors, 4 (or 5) Sims get in. Also, babies and toddlers will be held by their parents inside the car.

You can wax your Sims, and when you do, their body hair will appear again after a while.

If lightning strikes vehicles during a storm, it will completely destroyed them.

If a Sim is performing an interaction related to a trait, the trait will be highlighted.

You can get a graduation gnome that “hides in your books” during university classes.

Create-a-style

You can drag the whole palette to other objects so they get the same style.

You can swap patterns by dragging one of them onto the dividing line next to the other.

You can randomize patterns + colors by right-clicking on the swatches.

Right-clicking on the color above the color wheel, the game will give you a more appealing color (a different shade) than the one you have selected.

CAS

Right-clicking the icons at the top of CAS randomizes that part of clothing you are on.

You can have hairstyles in different outfits.

Build-Buy

Plants change in size as you place them.

You can make custom object collections.

If you typed in the cheat moveobjects on you can move sims by just clicking on them (on Build Buy mode).

You can set seasonal decor on your home lot to auto-change if you place the debug marker and then decorate accordingly.

If you press alt when building a foundation, you can change the height of it.

You can paint ceilings.

Mods

If you play with NRAAS Story Progression, no vampires or celebs will be in your town unless you specifically say you want them.

#ts3 #the sims 3 #the sims #sims 3 #s3 #til

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