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#the show has made this painfully clear
mummer · 2 years
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the amount of takes i've had to read with my two eyeballs saying that SALLY is the one with power in the rship, that it was her choice to keep barry around, and that somehow she's "meant" to parallel FUCHES!!!!!!!!!!!!! fucking lmao tell me you don't give a shit about victims of abuse without telling me you don't give a shit
literally it makes me want to rip my hair out. i think they dont understand that abuse comes from power dynamics and not like Yelling One Time lol. like..... no babes conflict is not abuse!!!!! he has the power because um he is literally a violent hitman. is sally “morally good”? i mean not really and she shouldnt have to be! shes got problems!! but she is not. Doing Violence. she is not committing harms on the same planet of bad as barry is. yes both of them want a relationship as a means to an end and see it as transactional but you cannot equivocate them because again one of them is murdering people to continue the relationship and the other is not doing that. duh. again both of them have deep rooted trauma but sally’s trauma is from violence done to her and barry’s trauma is from violence he has done. and the wild thing is that the show is now being very VERY blatant about it being an abusive relationship. not acknowledging that is just not interpreting the text on a basic level and is, really obviously, misogynistic
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steinfellds · 1 month
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The Greetings
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Pairing: Mobboss!WandaNat x Fem!Reader
Summary: After viewing numerous pets without finding any that sparked their interest, Natasha finally encounters you — an untrained mutt.
Contents: Dark themes, human trafficking, heavy pet play, face slapping, gagging, gun threats, throat-fucking, death threats, mentions of torture, suggestions of abuse, bruising, being kept in kennels.
a/n: this is the first part of the series :3 this series may or may not be abandoned but we'll see how long my motivation lasts for.
Unbreakable Ties Masterlist
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The loud footsteps that echoed around the hallway made you shove yourself into the corner of your kennel. You were used to hearing loud footsteps, but these ones were unfamiliar, and that scared you.
“Please, Ms. Romanoff. These ones are untrained, let me show you to our next holding section,” The desperate pleas of your seller only increased your fear.
The footsteps came to a halt.
“I thought I made myself clear. We are looking for something very specific, and we do not care for how untrained it is. Do you understand me, or will I have to repeat myself for a third time?”
The voice was of a woman. Her tone was clipped and full of irritation.
“Yes, I understand. Apologises,”
You heard the familiar noise of a kennel being unlocked and the woman’s quiet remarks. You assumed she didn’t want that pet as she let out a huff before the loud slam of the cage door.
She checked many other pets, gaining the same reaction as the last. It wasn’t until she stepped in front of your kennel that you could finally get a good look at her.
You could tell by her appearance that she was rich and important. She wore a dark black suit and her hair sat neatly above her shoulders. There was so much confidence and power radiating off her. Your seller looked like a puny piece of meat standing next to her.
Your kennel was unlocked, and the woman stepped inside. You shoved your naked body further into the corner.
The woman crouched in front of you, slowly checking you over. She grabbed onto your arm, running her fingers over your dark bruises. She pushed down slightly, making you cry out in discomfort. She smiled at that.
Her fingers tapped your chin, “Open,”
Your eyes narrowed at her request and your jaw stayed in place.
She didn’t like that. She gripped painfully tight on your chin, “Open your mouth,”
You complied with a small grumble.
She checked over your teeth, making sure everything was healthy – which it was. She surprised you when she shoved two fingers down your throat, immediately making you recoil and gag.
“Relax your throat,” She instructed, throat-fucking you.
Tears filled your eyes, and you shake your head, still trying to pull away from her. Her spare hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, keeping you in place. After a few seconds, she pulled away, and you gasped for air.
“Has this one had any training?” She questioned your seller, wiping her wet fingers on your thighs.
“She’s had some, but she isn’t very receptive to it.” He explained, “She normally bites and scratches. I’m surprised that she hasn’t done that to you,”
The woman hummed and pulled out her phone, opening to her camera. Her finger hooked around your chin, tilting your head towards to the camera and snapping a photo. You shifted uncomfortably.
Her phone immediately pinged with notifications.
“We’ll take her,” The woman stood and turned towards your seller, slipping her phone into her pocket.
His face was full of shock, obviously not expecting her to settle on you.
“Are you sure?” He asked.
“Are you questioning my ability to make decisions?” She snapped.
He shook his head, “Of course not! I’ll get her ready for you,”
You cowered at those words. You didn’t want to be alone with him, not after last time. The woman didn’t seem to notice, but your seller did.
The woman nodded and left.
Your sellers face turned sour, and he glared at you. He pulled out a collar and a lead, wrapping the collar around your neck and clipping the lead.
“You made me look like an idiot in front of her. Do you even know who she is?” He hisses, “Natasha fucking Romanoff, the most powerful mob boss in the city. God, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s just buying you to torture you and eventually kill you. I hope that happens, bitch.”
Before you can stop yourself, your mouth wrapped around his hand, and you bit down. Hard. His hand immediately met your cheek, forcing you to drop his hand and pull away.
A scorching pain spread across your cheek. You tried to control your tears, but it was hopeless. Tears fell and you sniffled loudly.
He raised his hand, ready to deliver another hit “Stupid-“
The feeling of a gun being shoved against his head and the sound of the safety being turned off made him freeze.
Natasha stood behind him with a gun pointed at his head and a terrifying glare painted on her face. She grabbed him by his shirt collar and tossed him into the wall. He let out a grunt and stared at her with fearful eyes.
“Touch my property again and I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” She harshly dug the tip of her gun into his temple, “Or worse, Wanda will, and I’m sure you know how violent my wife can be.”
Even with her anger not directed at you, it still scared you. The last thing you wanted was to be on the receiving end of it. The mention of the new name made you curious. Did Natasha send that picture of you to Wanda? Why didn’t Wanda come in with Natasha?
“I-I’m so sorry, Ms. Romanoff.” He spluttered.
He glanced over at you, and you had enough time to poke your tongue out before Natasha pulled his gaze back to her.
“Don’t look at her,” She commanded.
You swore you heard him whimper from fear.
“Now, get the hell out of here before I change my mind and kill you,”
He quickly nodded and ran off.
Natasha crouched in front of you, running her thumb over your sore cheek. It was going to leave a bruise.
Natasha stood, picked your leash from the floor, and tugged on it. You didn’t want to keep her waiting, so you obediently crawled toward her.
You kept your head low as you exited the store, the words of your seller replaying in your mind. You didn't want to be tortured or die. You were scared.
That's when you decided that you weren't going to let that happen to you. Somehow, you were going to escape. If only you knew what a mistake that would be.
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Taglist: @alexawynters @tia-thesimp
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priniya · 10 months
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📸 BETTER THAN REVENGE
synopsis. after a fight with sirius, regulus comes to his girlfriend sulking and she decides to have a little talk with his older brother.
notes. regulus black x malfoy!reader
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you and regulus had many more similarities than anyone could guess just by simply looking at the two of you. the most obvious included your background — ancient, pureblood families, who were nuts about purity, both in slytherin, both richer than most of the hogwarts students together, and in everyone’s eyes you were petty, stubborn and pretentious.
you two were petty and seemed pretentious, but it wasn’t all that. the two of you both had siblings, who maybe cared about you in some way, but never showed it well enough for you to be sure they cared. you were sure sirius cared, but you weren’t sure if lucius did. your brother was far from being a family guy.
both you and regulus were also painfully ambitious, and it kind of made the two of you so close as you were paired to one group in slughorn’s classes, and to secure yourself a top spot, you had to work together. and so half a year later, you were planning a trip to france, lying next to each other on the bed in his dorm.
after that one summer everything has changed, and now you two were an official couple, though not many people knew since neither of you wanted to make a big deal out of it. the amount of classes you shared had shrunken since you took different ones, but it just made your bond stronger.
it all happened on a week before both of you were supposed to return to your respective houses (though, regulus would be staying at potter’s), you were wrapping your present for barty, when your boyfriend stormed into the room. pandora, who sat there with you, claimed she would leave you two alone and left. you could easily see that something happened from the look on his face.
“reg,” you began, eyebrows furrowed at his sudden appearance. “is everything alright, love?” a soft ask left your lips as he just laid down on your bed, face buried in a pillow.
silence filled your room right after you finished your sentence. it was time for you to just sigh quietly, putting a hand on his back and scratching it gently. “you know you can talk to me, right?” your soft tone and the sensation of your nails on his back made him grunt.
“i’m not leaving for christmas.” he stated, catching you a little off guard. you were sure it was about the upcoming christmas ball that slughorn threw and since you were invited, regulus was ought to go with you. “i… got into a fight with sirius, so either we make up or i’m gonna go to my parents.” now, he was looking at you with misery and sadness flickering in his eyes.
“he thinks james is more of a brother to him than i am.” regulus adds, his head now resting on top of your laps as you play with his hair, trying to comfort him at least a little. “and he says it’s not that big of a deal, since i consider evan and barty my brothers and i’d probably say that they’re more of brothers to me than he is, but that’s not true.”
his words made your heart ache. it was clear to everyone in your friend group (including remus, who often just tagged along) to know how much regulus needed sirius’ validation, how much he needed to be reassured that he doesn’t hate him as much as regulus thought he did.
“i know we haven’t talked until he moved out, but it still hurts.” he whispered, not even looking you in the eyes. “and he doesn’t even recognize how much he means to me. he’s the only one in our entire family that matters more than everything. i got his initials and constellations tattooed and he thinks i would choose barty and evan over him?”
“you’re brother is an idiot, and i mean it.” you murmured, showering his head with kisses. if regulus was in his usual mood, he would say he just acts like an idiot, but now? he didn’t even want to defend him. “i’ll stay with you. i’d go nuts if i had to spend a minute with lucius.” you say softly, fingers running through his hair.
it took you a few more minutes to comfort him enough to leave your dorm for his evening practice, and even though you were supposed to finish packing your presents before christmas. you had to talk to one, annoying gryffindor, who was no other than sirius black.
getting into their common room was easy, lily, friend of a friend of yours, let you in after hearing your explanation, showing you how to get into sirius’ dorm that he shared with james, remus and peter. “one of you better hold me or i might kill your friend.” you let out, looking specifically remus, who looked at you with a glint of surprise.
“what did he do again?” lupin asked, his expression scolding. “what’re you doin’ here, malfoy?” peter began, but before he could elaborate, remus put a hand on his shoulder and shook his head as you looked for the perfect words.
“how can you be such an asshole, black?” you hissed, the end of your wand pointed at his throat. “one time you’re all on being the best older brother you can, but next time all i see in yourself is my brother, and believe me, that’s the furthest from a compliment.”
“i’m not done, yet.” your teeth gritted, eyes narrowed at him. “he’d never choose anyone over you, yet you’d always choose him —” you looked at james for half a second, then turned your eyes to sirius, again. “— over your own brother, who’d jump into flames just if you asked him to? unbelievable.” you sighed, putting your wand down, sliding it into your boot. “and you know what’s the worst in all that? that i wish he’d pick anyone else over you, but he won’t, because he can’t even get mad at you for not choosing him, he’s just sad.”
the atmosphere in the room is so tense, someone could cut it with knife. “you’re an idiot for making regulus feel so little about himself, and y’all are idiots for letting him.” another sight left your lips as your eyes were locked with sirius. “maybe even regulus will let you treat him like shit, but i won’t, black. i’ll make sure to haunt your dreams and turn them into nightmares, i can promise you that.” you gave him your most ironical smile. “i’m a malfoy, don’t underestimate me, cutie pie.” you sent him a wink,
“protective girlfriend, huh?” remus chuckled as you passed him, giving you a high-five. “oh you bet, lupin.” and you left, sirius almost shamless at your sudden outburst, but… it was quite impressive — though, he’d never admit it.
you haven’t seen neither of them till the next morning at breakfast, when they walked to the great hall together, talking about something until each of them got to their respective tables. “what did you do?” regulus asked, sitting on the bench beside you.
“what?” you asked with a sweet smile, nudging him lightly with your elbow. “just had a small talk with sirius, why?”
“a small talk? with the tip of your wand pressed against his throat?” you nodded at his words, sending him a fake-puzzled look. “you know i love you?” he bit back a smile, leaning closer to whisper those words right to your ear.
“oi, malfoy.” barty started, interrupting your somehow intimate moment with regulus. “theoretically, if i paid you, could you do that to me as well? that must’ve looked bloody hot.” crouch grinned, getting a light punch on the shoulder from your boyfriend.
“i would rather not touch you, crouch. i don’t know where the hell have you been.” you laughed, your head resting on regulus’ shoulder as his arm was wrapped around your waist. “don’t worry, baby. if any of them bothers you, i can fight.” you winked at him playfully.
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🌊Love And Guests🌊
┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑
Pairing: Aonung x reader
PART TWO: HERE
Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly
Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals 
Word Count: 3.1K
A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty.  Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.
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┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙
"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.
"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.
The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.
He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.
However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.
"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.
You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.
The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.
The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.
"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.
It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.
She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.
"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.
Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.
You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.
This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.
"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.
"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.
You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.
"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.
You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.
"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.
"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.
You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.
Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.
"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.
She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.
He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.
You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.
"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.
You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.
She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.
You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.
"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.
He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.
"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.
"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.
He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.
"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.
"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.
He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.
He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.
The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.
He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.
"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.
"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.
You watched, eyes as focused as ever. 
"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.
"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.
You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.
The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.
You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.
"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.
And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.
He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.
"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.
"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.
"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.
You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.
He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.
He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.
"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.
He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.
He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.
You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.
"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.
You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.
"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.
You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.
"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.
Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.
You wanted him.
But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.
'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.
You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.
"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.
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oncomingnight · 9 months
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Yandere! Fashion Designer
As a black hispanic writer, i thought that it was finally time to write a hispanic character. I hope you guys enjoy this piece, i'm much more confident with this post as it's a culture i'm familiar with. Please never feel afraid to talk/send requests in my ask box.
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Matías has always had a crystal clear vision of what his future was meant to be. He knew he wanted to get an education in fashion, pursue a career in that subject, live in a townhouse in the middle of a metropolitan area, have two or so cats whose only jobs were to tear up his carpet. He's always wanted to fall in love, as well. But, for some reason he thought love would not fit with the career path he was choosing and he wouldn't have enough time for another person everyday. But, as he grew older from when he first started his career, he realized how disgustingly wrong he was. The poisonous thoughts in his head were, "well to be one of the greats I'll have to lay off of the need for love." All of the people who inspired him seemed to have gone down that road but he soon realized that didn't mean he had to aswell.
He was always portrayed in the media as a tortured artist that was depraved of love, but, look! He's an icon and he's fine with the lack of affection in his life. But that couldn't have been even more wrong. He desperately wanted for a person on the side of his painfully empty bed, someone to share thousands of mornings with, someone to go grocery shopping with, someone to warm him seats, somebody to love.
Eventually, he set his wide brown eyes on you. The two of you met at an event made for people with careers in the creative passage. His gaze settled on you explaining the backstory behind your ceramic sets, intriguing buyers with your magnifying words. He was struck with slight by your celestial appearance but he took his chance to speak with you and walked on over.
As the conversation progressed he realized you, surprisingly, didn't know who he was! And yet, you weren't condescending or disrespectful about it, you showed your feelings of interest and asked deep rooted questions about his work. This one interaction attracted him to you and he counted himself lucky that you wanted to continue talking, giving him your personal number.
Was he giddy about the fact it was your personal number and not your business number? Yes.
He called you at all times of the day in which you were available, asking you personal questions and crossing his fingers that you wouldn't get put off for his intense need for human connection, and guess what? You stayed.
He invited you to one of his annual fashion shows where tons of loved celebrities were present. In his thoughts, this was the perfect setting for him to ask you to be strictly his. After the two of you had a delicious dinner at the same table in which several movie stars were sat, he asked you to be his girlfriend. He had to suppress the urge to kiss you right then and there when you said yes. He could've since the both of you were now in a private setting, but, he needed it to be a separate and even more special occasion.
From that day on, he never faltered in his immense love and utter obsession he had for you. When he finished a fashion sketch and started picking out the fabrics for his project, he would ask you to be his model. Wrapping measuring tape around your waist, purchasing silks that complimented your skin tone. Magazine editors, journalists and critics found the fact that every original piece of his was so clearly modeled for + by you, the best romantic partnership story in the history of fashion.
At the end of every show of his, the both of you would walk out hand in hand. Except, you were wearing the one and only original clothing piece from one of his most popular fashion collections. Your job wasn't a professional model but that didn't stop him from treating you as such. In and out of work.
During interviews, he'd get questioned if he'd let anyone else be the model for his beginning sketches for the purpose of range.
"Well, I do have range. That's the main thing I'm known for, the complexity of my collections and designs. I'm the professional here so I'd rather listen to advice from me than you, thank you." The question he was asked wasn't necessarily harmful towards you, but that didn't stop Matías from fighting tooth and nail for you. Why? Well, put yourself in the shoes of a man head over heels in love.
Whilst on vacations together, you'd get self conscious of all the money he was spending on you. Did he really have to spend all that money on shopping for the highest quality clothing for you? In his mind, yes! It's his money so let him spend it the way he wants.
He makes clothing specifically for you, never letting you taint yourself with the filthy clothing made by other people. He takes great pride in seeing you decked out in the stuff he made while you were in his mind. Embroidery, colors, silk, chiffon, jersey, wool; he took all of your favorite things into consideration as he crafted his best work for you.
As the two of you drive around in the safe Cadillac he bought specifically for your honeymoon in Marseille, France, he can't help but think about how he's going to drown you with gifts and delicious foods before desserts later on that day. Will you get anxious of all the money he's spending? Yes. But he'll reassure you. He's THE Matías Herrera. He's spending money while his bank account is getting filled to the brim every second.
He's taking you to oyster restaurants, booking a private spa day just for you, getting down on his knees to put your shoes on your feet, feeding you tortellini, zipping up your silk dress from behind, putting the morganite-stoned necklace on you, quickly going for a coffee run and coming back up to your shared hotel room with your order before you wake up.
Before the two of you got married, he took you to meet his mother and father in the home he paid off for them. Not wanting to seem disrespectful and show up empty handed, you baked some sweets for them and wrote them a letter in your appreciation for their son. Because of that, they knew they were going to adore you as a daughter-in-law. As soon as you walked into their cozy residence, the aroma of freshly cooked food hit your nose. They prepared delicious traditional Mexican cuisine, consisting of menudo and mole with a side of chopped up onions, cilantro and tomatoes. That night, a shared love sparked between you and your soon to be in-laws. His parents shared words of appreciation towards you and you couldn't have been happier.
At your wedding, Matías couldn't help but sob at the sight of you as you walked down the aisle. The stream tears didn't falter even as he recited his vows that he had written a year ago. Your wedding was so emotional in the most beautiful way, causing people in the crowd to grab at tissues to hide their tears.
From all of the instances of him being a lovesick puppy around you, you wouldn't have even begun to think of him as a violent person. Of course, he would never be aggressive or violent towards you, but to others that he considered threats? Oh absolutely. His career gave him an understanding of the human body (all of its sensitive parts) and he's willing to use it to his sinful advantage when it comes to defending you.
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Hello everybody! I wanted to thank each and every one of you for gifting me 100 followers. I apologize very deeply because I know this may not be my best piece of work, I didn't feel very good today but I still wanted to give you guys something for being so sweet to me. Have an amazing day and night! Also, just to ramble a bit more, my yan! scientist post was inspired by seeing Cillian Murphy as Oppenheimer in the movie trailer, I hope that doesn't make me weird. I'm watching the movie tomorrow and I won't be able to handle the immense amount of dread I'm going to feel after seeing it or all of the incredibly attractive actors on screen. Alright, enough about me, I'll post more tomorrow! ♡
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stvolanis · 3 months
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hii i have a req :farleigh coming into your room one night and blindfolding you and duct-taping your mouth shut pretending to be a home intruder. You know it's him so you pretend to put up a fight but you've been baiting him for months now so your so wet and needy it’s giving away that you love this.
Love this idea Anon!💋💕 your brain is absolutely magnificent!!
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Intruder Alert!
(One-Shot)
PAIRINGS: Farleigh Start! X Fem! Reader
WARNINGS: Farleighs a weirdo, foul language, mutual pinning just on the low, not rlly angst but reader has doubts about Farleigh wanting her?, Venetia being Venetia, reader acts innocent
NSFW WARNINGS: sub/dom undertones, bondage (F!receiving), slapping, spitting, dub-con, power play, slight size kink, forced breeding, vouyerism, mentions of fingering, perv!Farleigh, possessive! Farleigh (if you squint). if I missed anything I’m sorry!!💕
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
Farleigh Start felt as though you had it out for him the moment you stepped your high heeled foot through the large doors of the Saltburn mansion.
Your scent lingered in the air behind you, wherever you went. It’s was in all the rooms you perched yourself in. The green room, the blue room, etc. Farleighs nostrils flared, deeply inhaling the scent of vanilla and cherrywood with a hint of musk discreetly as he sat across from you at the dining table, dinner being served before you.
For months, you’d been prancing around in little to nothing; driving him absolutely batshit insane. Wearing those flimsy little tank tops that stuck to you like second skin, no bra underneath. Your hard nipples displayed for everyone to see, much to his dismay. They spilled at out at the top when you’d lean across the dining table to grab the mashed potatoes and Farleigh had to hold back a groan.
You wore the shortest mini skirts he’d ever laid his eyes upon. God forbid you strolled outside together as a family when it was windy. Everyone would have a show put on for them of your white cotton panties, a pink little bow adorned on the front. It made Farleighs cock painfully harden even with just a glimpse.
You were so naive, so trusting and innocent; or so he thought. Farleigh thought you were oblivious to the effect you had on him, so when he walked past your room one night to the sound of your soft moans slipping from the cracks of the door, he was happily surprised.
The door was cracked; almost as if you wanted someone to find you like this. Almost like you wanted him to find you like this.
So obviously, Farleigh took this as an invitation to watch.
Your fingers danced underneath the same cotton panties he’d seen previously, pushing in and out of your needy cunt. The sound of your slick so loud and prominent, a clear sign of your arousal. The curly haired man fisted his cock like a 13 year old discovering porn for the first time, embarrassingly cumming fast.
And for months, this went on. Months of him purposely passing by your room, hoping to hear the sound of your voice on the brink of an orgasm. For months, he spat into his large hand, jerking himself off while he watched you hump stuffed animals, pillows, and the way you played with your puffy pussy.
And for months, you knew.
The first time Farleigh watched you come undone, finding his own release, he didn’t clean up after himself. You opened the door shortly after your orgasm to go pee, only to step in warm cum on the floor. Felix was asleep, as was Oliver. You knew the only person usually up at this hour was Farleigh, just as you hoped, he had taken the bait.
For months, you put on a show for him. Sometimes even wearing lingerie of his favorite color. You discreetly watched him through the crack of your door, and picked up on what made him cum faster, or what made him cum more. Pink, you learned, was his favorite color on you. You knew he liked watching you fuck yourself onto your pink vibrating dildo. And he loved watching you hump your satin pillow.
Farleigh couldn’t ever look you in the eyes during breakfast, or when you lounged out by the lake in nothing but a thin layer of sunscreen and your baby pink bikini, top barely hiding anything. He didn’t look you in the eyes while playing tennis, even when going against you. He didn’t look you in the eyes during dinner, especially not even when you asked him to pass you something.
Farleigh was, dare i say it, ashamed.
He was ashamed by the way you made him feel, ashamed of what he did early every night outside of your door. You were just—so easy, so nice, and pretty. The sweetest girl in town, for miles to come. He wanted you, badly. But he assumed you wanted anyone else but him.
You tried to subtly flirt with him, make moves, but Farleigh just thought that you were trying to be nice, or make him feel more included about whatever it was you were doing. Venetia was the first to connect the dots.
As a promiscuous woman herself, she knew what you were doing, and honestly applauded you for it; though she grew aggravated at the two of you for never physically acting on it with each other.
“Just fuck him already. If you know he wants you, then why not just get it over with. I’m tired of you guys walking on eggshells around each other.” She dragged out as she painted her nails a blueish hue, her hair prettily braided. You sighed. “Not that easy, Vee. M’too scared. What if he doesn’t want me after we have sex anymore?” You worried.
Venetia rolled her green eyes with a smack of her glossy lips. “Farleighs a lover boy at heart, I’ve known him for fucking ever. If anything, he’ll be the clingiest little shit you’ve ever met once you’ve banged.” She said with a playful slap to your ass as you got up from your bed.
You giggled. “Think I can pull it off tonight?” You asked with a raised brow as you clicked the TV on. Venetia nodded her head with a smug look. “Oh, definitely.” She chuckled out when you gave her a little twirl, jokingly showing off your body. “He won’t even know what to do with all that.” She sighed out, dramatically falling back onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling.
You took your place next to her in the empty spot, your head rested on a pillow. “What if this goes south?” You ask, glancing over at her. She pondered for a moment before she exhaled deeply. “Well, you’d have to leave Saltburn, Obviously, for starters.” She began. you playfully slapped her arm with an eyes roll.
She smiled. “It won’t, trust me.” She said with a reassuring nod. And you did. You trusted her.
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Tonight was the night. You’d decided as you wore the skimpiest outfit yet. The one you had stashed away at the back of your closet, for special use.
A baby white tube top with lace on the hem of it, tacky rhinestones written out to spell “dolly” in almost a cursive. You paired it with the shortest skirt you owned, a jean mini skirt that was flared out at the bottom. You didn’t wear panties, but you did throw on some white fishnets; something you knew Farleigh enjoyed, as he stared at you more when you wore them.
The finishing touches was a bedazzled choker snug against your neck and a Pearl necklace with your initial on it, and your favorite platformed sandals. Your toes had white tips, freshly done to match your manicured nails.
You sighed softly as you looked at yourself in the mirror, gliding your hands down the sides of your body before adjusting anything that needed to be adjusted. Your hair was down, styled to your liking. God, you hoped this went as you wanted.
As you exited your room, roaming the long narrow halls, down the stairs till you finally found your way to the dining room. The whole family was there, minus the deceased family friend Pamela, and the seat next to Farleigh was conventionally empty thanks to Venetia who usually sat by him.
You could visibly see him tense as you took your seat swiftly next to him, sending a small smile. You acted like you didn’t see the way his eyes raked over your figure from head to toe. He adjusted himself in his seat with a cough, and Venetia shot you a knowing look from across the table as she brought her wine glass up to her lips with a smile.
Your hand discreetly found it’s way to Farleighs thigh, looking over at him with a smile. “How are you these days, Farleigh?” You asked, batting your eyelashes up at him. He clicked his tongue, almost portraying annoyance, but you knew better. “I’m..” he started, his eyes trained on your hand that squeezed his. “Fine. I’m fine.” He spat out after a moment, gulping.
Your hand trailed to his crotch, giving it a squeeze with a tender smile. “Yeah?” You asked again. He sucked in a harsh breath. “Yeah..” he repeated mindlessly, focused on the way your gentle hand stroked along his hardened cock through his jeans. His brows furrowed together in displeasure when your hand left where he needed you most.
He clicked his tongue, his hand finding it’s way to your cunt, brows raised at his discovery. “No panties, hm? Dirty girl.” He whispered, just loud enough for only you to hear. His finger dipped into your pussy, teasingly almost. His thumb circled your needy bud and your thighs squeezed together, which you soon regretted as his hand left from between your legs.
“Farleigh..” you whimpered. He rolled his eyes dismissively. “Be good.” Was all he said as a response.
The night carried on, with laughter from jokes shared around the large table. Conversations kept your mind from trailing back to the need for Farleigh fingers in you, but a constant reminder was his heavy hand on your thigh, squeezing every once and a while to let you know he was listening to every word you spoke, even if it wasn’t directed towards him.
You blushed under his gaze. The confidence you had suddenly disappearing as you became shy all of the sudden as you sat next to him. Fantasies of him bending you over the table, having his way with you, clouded your mind. He’d do it so easily, too.
How easy it would be for him to overpower you, taking what he wanted without remorse. You needed him just as badly as he needed you, and that’s exactly why you had to dismiss yourself from the chattery table early. You needed to take your mind elsewhere, away from the suffocation of Farleighs stalking presence.
When you made your way back to your room, you made sure to leave your door cracked every so slightly, enough for a lingering invitation to the man you craved the most.
But, as soon as your head hit your silk pillow, you were fast asleep. Consumed with comforting darkness and your mind finally blank—that was till you felt a hand cover your eyes. You gasped in shock as it was soon replaced with some kind of cloth secured tightly around your head.
You were flipped onto your stomach as your arms began to flail around, desperately trying to defend yourself against your intruder. “Please—stop!” You whimpered out. You felt rope tie your wrists together, bound together, no freeing movement as you tried to wiggle them out, but to no avail.
“I’ll do anything—just—please! Don’t hurt me!” You nearly sobbed out. A deep chuckle was heard, almost familiar, and then it clicked. You continued your cries as his hand trailed down to your sickeningly wet cunt. Farleigh clicked his tongue. “Filthy little girl, getting off on this. Y’so fuckin’ wet, pretty baby.” He cooed, almost mockingly as two slim, yet long fingers prodded into your entrance before easily sliding in.
“Oh fuck!” You whined as his fingers curled into your g-spot. His thumb rubbed your clit soothingly, and his mouth found its way to your now exposed breast. His tongue swirled at your nipple, before biting down hard enough to leave a distinctive mark. You let out a yelp as he sucked your sensitive bud into his mouth, releasing with a loud pop.
He jiggled your boobs together, shoving his face between them as his fingers began slamming into you. “Oh- oh my god!” You moaned out through tears. His thumb circled your clit painfully faster, almost agonizing as he easily brought you to the brink of an orgasm.
And you were right there, so fucking close. Like the tips of your fingers were touching the clouds, almost entering a paradises; and then it was snatched away from you within a second. You shined in protest, sniffling. His hand had left from between your legs for the second time tonight, and your frustration grew.
Farleigh folded you into a mating press, your knees pressed against your shoulders and his heavy wet against you, but what caught your attention the most, was the heaviness of what hung between his thighs. Hot and heavy against your wet cunt, gliding through your folds gracefully.
He pushed his fat tip into you first, then slowly bottomed out till you could feel the curly mound of hair sat above his cock. It scratched against you just slightly, but you didn’t mind. You took him so good, so pretty under him. Your hair was a mess, and your makeup smeared from tears and sweat. Your legs spread, almost like a present for him to take and unravel himself as he saw fit, and that’s just what he was going to do.
His hand snaked up to your throat, finding it’s place securely before asserting his dominance by squeezing roughly. Forcing you to really realize the situation you were currently in. Really, he could do anything he wanted to you. He could use you for hours, if he wanted, as a punishment for the months of torture he endured as you flaunted yourself to him.
“Look at you, such a mess. And to think, I thought you were a good girl.” He chuckled as his lips skimmed over yours, biting down on your lip hard enough to draw the faintest amount of blood, yet still prominent enough that he could taste the tang of it on his slick tongue. He was enamored with you and the way you felt wrapped around him.
He pounded into you like a wild animal, free of its cage. He fucked you like he’s never fucked anyone before, and this is his first time; but you know it isn’t. His pace was so erratic as he burrowed his hips into you, his jackhammering cock pounding and prodding at your sore cervix, surely to be bruised painfully in the morning.
The way he had you angle hit deep in you, and you longed to see him above you. You wondered how he looked right now. You could only imagine his hair matted to his forehead with sweat. His lean body pressed against yours, his stomach glistening in the lighting. If you could see him, you’d know hes exactly how you imagined—but a little more needy.
Needier than his voice made him seem, deep and dominant, heavy with authority. His voice made it seem like he wasn’t as effected as you were, but that was so far from the truth. His jaw was slack, head falling back as he let out breathless groans and moans above you. At one point, he bit down on his lip, trying to hush himself from the small whimpers that threatened to spill at the tightness of your snug cunt.
“Please, M’so close!” You whimpered out, your hands balling into fists. You wished you could feel him, hold him against you—claw at his back or the bed sheets—tangle your hands in his curly locks, but you couldn’t. And you knew that this was your punishment. “Beg for it, slut. Be a good little bitch and beg for it. Say sorry for being a whore while you’re at it.” He huffed out with a groan and almost a laugh.
Your breathing became heavy as his hips slammed into yours harder than before, knocking out the air in your lungs. “Please, Farleigh! N—Need to cum, p..please! M’sorry, m’so sorry, won’t d—o it again!” You all but yelled out. “Lemme cum, pretty please. I’ll be a good girl.” You said, yelping when his hand came down, slapping your clit.
“Awh, you wanna cum? This is the only way you’re allowed to.” He said, his tone heavy and dark. You gasped when his hand came down again on your clit, over and over again. The pressure of it mixed with the stinging pain had you spiraling, and a few more slaps to your sensitive, engorged bundle of nerves had your orgasm tumbling over uncontrollably.
Your body shook and spasmed as you orgasm wracked through you. Your nipples poked at his chest, creating friction from the sensitivity and tears pricked your eyes, but were hidden beneath the fabric that covered your eyes. “Farleigh!” You moaned his name out like it was a prayer, and he reveled in it.
“M gonna cum too, baby.” He moaned out. Your hazy mind was recovering just enough to realize what was going on. “Pull out, Farleigh.” You ushered him. He shook his head, as if you could see. “Gonna stuff this cunt, so everyone knows you’re mine when you’re knocked up.” He groaned, his head burrowing in your neck, sucking at the skin.
“F—Farleigh, Wait!” You begged, feeling his cock pulse inside of you, almost tearing you in half from the sheer size of it. The overstimulation was too much, and you couldn’t find yourself to fight back on him releasing inside you anymore as you felt another orgasm shake through you for a second time.
Farleigh came the same time as you, sure enough painting your pink, gummy walls white with a loud moan, the loudest you’ve ever heard him this far. When he pulled out, he sickeningly watched his cum ooze out of you, mesmerized by the way you pulsed and clenched around nothing, whining at the loss of his cock stuffing you full.
“Took my cock so well.” He praised as he took off the fabric covering your eyes, untying the ropes around your wrist. The tightness of them had left a mark, and you suspected that it would bruise in the morning too, but exhaustion consumed you and all you cared about was falling asleep next to Farleigh, which you did happily.
The comfort of his arms wrapped around you, and the kisses he laid all over your body as he cleaned you up made you hum out a soft sigh. He cleaned your cunt, and wiped off any access sweat your body had created with a warm rag gently.
You were content like this, almost domestic as he laid alongside you, legs tangling together. His body had grown cold, and it was a welcoming contrast to your skin as his cold feet met your hot ones. Soon enough, you were asleep.
The last thoughts that plagued your mind were what was to come after what happened tonight. Your only hope being that he would still want you, but the way he held you against him, almost like he was afraid of losing you, made you feel a lot better.
˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚
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buckybarnesb-tch · 30 days
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Aemond T. Yandere A-Z
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(For the multiple people who asked for a Yandere Alphabet for our favorite little War Criminal)
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A stands for AFFECTION: how would they show affection?
•Aemond is a gift giver to the extreme
•From the moment you found out about your betrothal to your Uncle, you had been receiving gorgeous dresses, fantastic shoes and jewelry you could never have imagined wearing. All of the jewelry you were gifted containing large sapphires in the necklaces or earrings, staking the One Eyed Princes claim on you
B stands for BLOODY: how bloody are they willing to get for their object of obsession?
•He loves getting bloody on a normal occasion so getting bloody for you would be a joy for Aemond
•He would slaughter any and all men who dared even think they had a chance with his girl and he even killed a few women who thought it their place to ‘warn you’ about what he’s like and insist you needed to get out of the marriage proposal, even though you all knew that was impossible
C stands for CRUELTY: would they ever hurt their object of obsession?
•Aemond would avoid harming you as much as possible, he never liked to see pain on your face or bruises on your perfect porcelain skin but if you thought you were going to defy him then he needed to teach you a lesson
•Normally locking you in your rooms was enough after two days of isolation and eating all of your meals alone
•Only once did Aemond ever really hurt you and it was only after you had pushed him too far, something even you admitted he couldn’t ignore in public
D stands for DARLING: would they cross their object of obsession’s limits?
•Aemond is as patient as he can be with you but if you give him no other choice, then yes, he absolutely will
E stands for EXPOSED: how much do they expose their own feelings to their object of obsession?
•Aemond talks to you about almost everything
•One of your jobs as his wife is to listen to him and you quickly find out you’re the only person that he really tells about how he feels about everything from his mother to his brother to even his father
•He is also very open in how he feels about you, making it clear from the moment you are betrothed that you are his and he is completely obsessed with you loves you dearly
F stands for FIGHT: how would they react to their object of obsession fighting back?
•Aemond absolutely thinks it’s funny…for about 5 minutes
•You are his wife and him your husband, you will behave as a lady is expected to behave within the confines of her marriage so ‘fighting back’ isn’t really much of an option
G stands for GAME: do they think this is just a game?
•You are Aemond’s everything, this is no game
•Anyone who thinks it is will get a painful wake up call sooner than they think
H stands for HELL: what would be their object of obsession’s worst experience with them?
•Your worst experience would be the one time you made the mistake of refusing his demands in front of the small council
•Aemond didn’t want to harm you, he was trying quite hard to get you used to being his wife and doing your duties/behaving how he expected you to but you didn’t give him much of an option before you felt his hand strike your face so painfully you briefly thought he had broken your jaw
•He apologized for hitting you so hard later in the privacy of your rooms but informed you that you shouldn’t have said anything against him in front of anyone especially the small council and even you knew how badly you had messed up as soon as the words left your mouth
I stands for IDEAL: what are their plans for their object of obsession?
•Aemond’s plan is impregnating you
•That has been his plan since the moment he insisted his mother ensure you were going to be his wife
J stands for JEALOUSY: how they react when jealous? Do they get jealous?
•When Aemond is jealous someone is going to die, he is a violent man when he thinks another man is getting close to his wife and he will often publicly punish any man who he thinks is looking at his Princess wrong
•You learned very quickly to talk to other men as little as possible
•However you also learned that if you wanted a man dead you had a sure fire way to make it happen
K stands for KINDNESS: how they act around their object of obsession?
•When you and Aemond are alone he is much different than he is in public
•Aemond is usually a sweet, gentle person with you when he isn’t in a bad mood or you’re not being difficult
•Even when in public he is gentler with you than most men are with their wives, he’s just far more quiet and somber
L stands for LOVE LETTER: how would they approach their object of obsession?
•He made sure his mother knew he would only accept you as his wife, and that if Rhaenyra made the mistake of trying to marry you to anyone else he would steal you away before any wedding could take place and burn the Lords house to the ground, ally of the Hightowers or not
•Aemond was quite sweet to you, he always had been when you were children however he was a proper gentleman now and he ensured you were as happy as you could be…obsessively so
M stands for MASK: how different are their public persona from their true selves?
•He is quiet for the most part in public, and if he must say something it is usually a snarky comment or a backhanded insult
•With you he is very attentive and often needy for your attention which is actually what makes you fall for him in the end, loving his desperation for you
N stands for NAUGHTY: how would they punish their object of obsession?
•Aemond locks you in your chambers until you can’t stand being alone anymore and admit you were wrong for whatever, you never really need anything more than that
O stands for OPPRESSION: how many rights would they take from their object of obsession?
•Rights?
•What are rights?
•You are Aemond’s wife. You will do what is expected of a highborn lady wife or be punished. Even so, Aemond tries to make you as happy as he can and doesn’t order you about as much as he could
P stands for PATIENCE: how patient are they with their object of obsession?
•Aemond tries his best to be very patient and to his credit he does very well until you push too hard
•Compared to other men and even other Targaryen men, he is quite patient with you, wanting you to actually learn lessons and want to be a good wife for him in the end
Q stands for QUIT: if their object of obsession died or escaped, would they ever be able to move on?
Died: He would be a complete basket case without you and he would refuse to remarry for any reason what so ever
Escaped: He would go on a rampage until he got you back. No one would be safe until he found you and had you back in his arms
R stands for REGRET: would they ever regret harming their object of obsession? Would they ever let them go?
•Aemond will Never let you go
•He would only ever regret how hard he slapped you once in a small council meeting, he hated how afraid of him you were in that moment
S stands for STIGMA: what made their yandere tendencies bloom?
•You had always been the only one in the family who was kind to Aemond, being his best friend as kids
•He knew you would be his wife from the moment you first stuck up for him during the pig prank to your brothers and uncle, that was the day he fell completely in love with you
•He decided that night that he would do whatever he needed to do in order to make you his wife, even though he knew his mother would want to marry him to another house and that Rhaenyra would never want you to be with him
T stands for TEARS: how would they react to their object of obsession crying/breaking?
•Anger
•Your tears brings out a rage in Aemond that is not often seen and he will slaughter whoever has made you so upset
•If he were the one to upset you however, he wouldn’t really know how to fix that. He would typically hold you until you either calmed down or cried yourself out and then get you a gift as an apology since “apologizing” isn’t really something he knows how to do very well
U stands for UNIQUE: something different they would do compared to others yanderes.
•In the beginning of your relationship, before the wedding was set and you were staying as far from him as you could, Aemond came up with a plan to make you dependent on him and feel safe with him to ensure you wouldn’t try and run back home to Rhaenyra and Daemon (who was the only man you seemed to trust which enraged him to no end)
•Aemond had Criston Cole hire a man to sneak into the castle with the intent to kill you. He planed it out meticulously to ensure you were never in any real danger though you wouldn’t know that
•The man entered your chambers as you were getting ready to sleep and you shrieked, backing towards the window, pleading with him not to harm you and telling him that he could leave and you would forget he was ever there. Suddenly your door flew open and Aemond ran in, he was on the man before you could blink, beating his head in as he shouted about how he would never let anyone harm his wife
•It was that night that you really began giving Aemond the chance to win your love, realizing that you were truly safe with him. The entire plot was a secret that Aemond would take to his grave
V stands for VICE: what weakness their object of obsession could use against them?
•His jealousy, 100%
•If you want someone, anyone dead, all you need to do is make it seem like they’ve been looking at you for more than a second too long, it gives you a feeling of absolute power and you love it
W stands for WIT’S END: would they hurt their object of obsession?
•Aemond would never hurt you in any kind of serious way
•If he has to he will lock you in your chambers for the rest of your life, but he won’t do you serious harm
X stands for XOANON: would they worship their object of obsession?
•He definitely has a way of making you feel like a Goddess
•Especially when you’re pregnant as he worships the ground you walk on. He is constantly getting you whatever food you’re craving, fluffing your pillows, rubbing your sore feet, anything to make his precious Princess feel better while she is carrying his baby inside of her
•You are the most precious thing in the whole world to him and even when he is upset with you Aemond never lets you forget it
Y stands for YEARN: how long would they pine after their object of obsession before they snap?
•Aemond has always loved you, and always had a bit of a crush on you however he has been head over heels since he was 10
•He keeps it together and hidden until he is 16 and he demands you as his bride upon hearing that Rhaenyra was considering marriage proposals for you, the idea of you being married off to someone else sending him over the edge
Z stands for ZENITH: would they ever break their object of obsession?
•Aemond doesn’t want you broken, he wants you to be his compliant little Princess and that’s exactly what you are
•You had always known what was expected of you as a women and a wife in a marriage from the time that you were a little girl (though you never expected to be married to your Uncle) but Aemond ensured that you would be exactly what he always wanted in a wife and you are absolutely Perfect to him
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Aemond Targaryen Masterlist
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ennas-aesthetic · 6 months
Text
What the fuck is Jesus up to in Good Omens season 3?
This is a question I've been thinking long and hard these past couple of days and I have some THOUGHTS SO. Buckle up.
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Aziraphale and Crowley watching the Crucifixion (Good Omens, 2019)
First off. The answer to the question posited is relatively simple. What is Jesus up to in GO3? With s2's ending in mind and with the hints we've gotten for 668: Neighbor of the Beast over the years, we know he's descending to Earth to initiate the Second Coming. And that Aziraphale would probably make that happen - or do everything that he can as Supreme Archangel to sabotage it.
But I wanted to examine on how Jesus might fit into Good Omens' overall narratives and established themes - about morality and humanism and free will, and. I'm just saying, there are A LOT of fascinating routes they could do for his character.
(Disclaimer as usual: this is a theory that I obsessed over when I was stuck at the cemetery during All Souls' Day and must be treated as such. In no way am I insisting this should be how canon events must happen. I am just doing this for the funsies.)
The THING about Jesus if you situate him in the world of Good Omens (with the assumption that most of the pop culture Christology mythos associated with him remain intact) is that in this context he very quickly becomes: 1. Adam Young's narrative foil; and 2. an Aziraphale parallel.
Now, the first one is obvious. Of COURSE he is Adam Young's foil, duh. Adam isn't called the ANTICHRIST for nothing. Brought into the world just for the sole purpose of ending it. However, when the time comes for him to fulfill the Will of his Satanic Father, Adam flat out REFUSES.
Both the book and the show attribute this to Adam's human upbringing. He was raised as a human, and because of that he has the trait that the book uses to DEFINE human beings: free will. At the end, Adam had the AGENCY to reject the destiny planned out for him.
'Adam stood smiling at the two of them, a small figure perfectly poised exactly between Heaven and Hell.
Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's arm. "You know what happened?" he hissed excitedly. "He was left alone! He grew up human! He's not Evil Incarnate or Good Incarnate, he's just… a human incarnate—"'
- (Good Omens, 1990)
That is NOT what happened to Jesus.
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Adam Bond as Jesus in Good Omens (2019)
Like Adam, he was raised as a human -- being a human incarnate was his WHOLE DEAL in Christology. In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us... yada yada yada.
UNLIKE, Adam, though, Jesus wasn't able to REJECT his Destiny of Dying Really Horribly and Painfully on the Cross. Narratives in the Bible also made it clear that the Crucifixion was NOT his Will, but that of God's. Like... him begging to be spared from torment but ultimately following God's Will is such an important event entire devotional practices are made out of it.
"39 And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt."
- (Matthew 26: 39, KJV)
We get a glimpse of that in s1ep3 of Good Omens, too:
"JESUS
(muttering through the pain)
Father, please . . . you have to forgive them . . . they don’t know what they are doing . . .
Crowley, in black, comes up next to Aziraphale.
CROWLEY
You’ve come to smirk at the poor bugger, have you?
AZIRAPHALE
Smirk? Me?
CROWLEY
Well, your lot put him on there.
AZIRAPHALE
I am not consulted on policy decisions, Crawley."
- (The Quite Nice and Fairly Accurate Good Omens Script Book, 2018)
SO. Here we have the character of the Christ whose free will and agency had been STRIPPED from him in the guise of a "noble sacrifice." He comes back again on this Earth to fulfill another "inescapable destiny."
Aziraphale and Crowley need to stop him. The solution the Good Omens narrative offers to "inescapable destinies and systems" (both in s1 and s2) is for the character to realize they have the freedom to choose their own fates. It happened with Adam, and it happened with Gabriel, and perhaps it will happen to Jesus.
(At this point my sister frowned and said: "Are you telling me you think Aziraphale and Crowley are going to help Jesus realize he has agency and that him Dying on the Cross for the 'Great Plan' was kinda fucked up actually?" which sounds crazy when you put it like that BUT NEVER SAY NEVER BABIE.)
Because that brings me to my second point: if this all happens, Jesus becomes an AZIRAPHALE parallel.
In the same way Anathema is an Aziraphale parallel and Sergeant Shadwell is an Aziraphale parallel. Here is a character stuck in a suffocating status quo. To save the world, he needs to know he can escape that status quo and decide for himself. In the same way Anathema has to learn how to stop being a descendant or Shadwell to stop being a Witchfinder, or Gabriel to stop being an Archangel, and Adam to stop being an Antichrist, perhaps Jesus has to learn he can stop being... Well, the Christ, as well.
And this, of course, supplements Aziraphale's journey of letting go of the idea of being an idealized vessel of God, so he could finally enjoy the freedom of personhood and choice on Earth, with Crowley.
Or they could turn Jesus into a cackling villain who Aziraphale and Crowley need to kill in season 3, and I'd probably eat that up, too.
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nekropsii · 5 months
Note
Hello, pardon and I don’t want to be a bother but I would like to ask for your take on something. And if you’re not down to answer this question, that’s completely fine, you seem to make large opinion posts on a noteworthy basis so I understand if you don’t have the energy or motivation to give an opinion right now.
But I wanted to ask for your take on the ethics of enjoying Homestuck in the modern day. Many people such as myself and seemingly you as well enjoy Homestuck but are painfully aware of all the gross stuff in it. And as I see the comic pop up in more and more dni lists, with people claiming that enjoyers of Homestuck are supporting these things inherently, no matter the fact that most of us stand against Hussie and attempt to reclaim Homestuck as something to express joy and our identities in, it makes me wonder more and more the ethics of enjoying Homestuck. Since you seem to have thoughts on the matter, I was wondering if you’d like to share your take.
I once again want to stress though, absolutely no pressure to answer. I am not entitled to your time or hearing your opinion. You don’t know me, I don’t know you. I was just asking in case you wanted to speak about it.
Hi, Anon! This is a very interesting question, and you were right to assume I have thoughts on it. They might not be as long and complicated as some of my other essays, but they still exist, and I would quite like to share them. Thank you for the opportunity.
My opinion on The Ethics of Enjoying Homestuck is that I believe it's perfectly fine to do so. I also think it's perfectly fine to dislike, or hate, or not want to associate with it or any fans of it. This is a personal boundary set by and for the individual, and it's not my business to question, nor my place to cross it. However, I don't really agree with the way some people go about communicating or enforcing this boundary. I've seen some people put Homestuck and Harry Potter on the same level before. I've seen some say that enjoyment of either piece of fiction is, at least in part, comparable. I heavily disagree with this- and the fact that this is a point that comes up shows to me that there's quite a few people who don't actually fully understand why so many people are saying to stop supporting Harry Potter.
The conflation of the two things reads to me as if some believe that Harry Potter has been "cancelled for having a problematic creator"- and that's not wholly true. Yes, J.K. Rowling is, by definition, problematic, and she is the creator of the Harry Potter franchise, but people have drawn such a hard line against supporting the series not just because J.K. Rowling is Transphobic, but because she has honest to god legislative power. She is, as it stands, currently the backbone of the TERF movement, and is spending a lot of time and money to ensure that Transphobes dominate the government. Monetary support of Harry Potter pools into her funds, which adds to her ability to further Trans Genocide. Communal/Fandom support of Harry Potter increases her visibility as a public figure, which adds to her ability to further Trans Genocide. J.K. Rowling has made very clear statements saying that she takes any support of the Harry Potter franchise- any at all, including Queer/LGBT+ Friendly fan content- as support of her beliefs. Support of Harry Potter is a method of legitimizing and validating Transphobia, and is being used as a way to further Trans Genocide.
If J.K. Rowling was just an average Transphobe, the outcry would not be nearly as severe, and the line wouldn't be nearly as clear cut. It would just be disappointing, bring to mind the phrase "same shit as always", and many would make the personal choice to distance themselves from it. But that's not the reality we live in. We live in the reality where J.K. Rowling has sway on the government, and is getting real people hurt and killed.
Andrew Hussie, creator of Homestuck, however, is just some random asshole with no political power outside of his own vote. Yes, Homestuck is filled with plenty of unsavory elements- random out-of-place interjections of Hussie's own past bigotry included- but at the end of the day, Homestuck has no influence over government action. Hussie has no tangible political influence, and does not want to have tangible political influence. We don't even have evidence that Hussie still holds the same beliefs as he did during and prior to the creation of Homestuck. This is just some random indie comic, made by some random guy in 2009. J.K. Rowling is dangerously close to billionaire status, and using that power for evil.
It's fine to like something that's not very morally clean- or something made by a not very morally clean artist, during a not very morally clean point in time in a not very morally clean place in this world. It's okay. The fixation some have on this is OCD-inducing. The best that can be asked is that one recognizes the bigotry, and doesn't perpetuate them. That's all. You can read, watch, play, and enjoy just about anything, as long as you don't make the more unsavory elements out to be a good thing. Don't start acting like Racism is awesome, or Antisemitism is cool, or Transphobia is based, et cetera, and you'll be totally fine.
The ability to find value in something impure or unsavory is a valuable one. Some may not want to associate with that, or find the particular flaw in the work in question to be too uncomfortable to stomach, and that's fine, too. Not everyone can just sit through Era-Appropriate Casual Homophobia or Racism and come out feeling fine enough to keep going. I'd argue- hope, even- that most feel at least a bit bothered by such things. It's all about personal tolerance levels. No one's committing a moral crime by either enjoying it or not wanting to even look at it.
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deathbxnny · 7 days
Note
helloo, platonic ratio, aventurine and sunday with a teen!reader like mafuyu asahina?
Hello Anon! Thank you for the great request, and I'll hope you'll like this!!<33
Content: Reader is a teen, platonic relationships, mentions of potential suicidal thoughts, fluff, older brother figures hsr men, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns!
((Not proofread))
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》DR. RATIO
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When he first took you under his wing as a student, he was pleased with your work ethic and especially your grades. You studied all the time, excelling in everything and any subject. But despite all of these great achievements, he still noticed a certain... emptiness to you.
It started out with him noting that you never did anything else BUT studying, which he didn't think was healthy either. After digging deeper, he found out that you once had a love for music that was stomped out by your previous caretakers. And that alone made him immideatly realise many concerning things about you that needed to be helped.
He tried his best to handle the situation with the care it needed and slowly ease you into a feeling of safety for your passions around him. He'll slowly get you back into the art of music after he got you professional help, too, by asking you to sing/play him songs whilst he worked.
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》AVENTURINE
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Aventurine immideatly noticed something off about you, when he took you under his wing as a little assistant. You were kind, generous and helpful on the surface, but he could feel the darkness festering under it anyways. You were good at hiding the pain, yet he knew better than to think that you could keep it up forever.
He saw a part of himself in you, when he found out that the darkness had eventually turned into a need to end it all. He understood and related, which is why he wanted to save you, if he couldn't save himself. He knew about your passions and how you had to give them up when coming to the IPC and so he decided to simply make you return to what you once were.
He took you to musicals, operas, live shows, theaters, and anything else that could potentially feature music. Aventurine somehow also figured out what instrument you used to love playing and bought you the most expensive one he could get his hands on, on top of tutoring lessons if you needed them to get back into it. He was hellbent into turning you back into you once were, before he finally says goodbye to the world himself.
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》SUNDAY
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Hiding any form of emotions from Sunday was absolutely impossible, something he made very clear from the beginning. He noticed the way your eyes lost their light whenever no one was around, the way you'd always give everyone painfully empty smiles. But he didn't confront you on it. Not at first, at least.
He observed you for a while instead, never really letting you out of his line of sight as he began watching the way you began dipping lower and lower mentally, the more you lost your passion for anything. When he noticed you giving up your love for music too, he decided to finally confront you. He tried to be gentle and soft-spoken, even using his abilities if he had to, to find the root of the issue.
Once he gets you the help you need, he'll make it his personal mission to also help you feel better around the estate. He'll have your favorite music playing often, make plays for you to sing in, and also ask Robin to rekindle your love for your passions. He hopes that with enough patience and care, you'll be okay again and finally live out your life like a young teen should.
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Okay, I hope this was alright for you, Anon, and thank you again for your request!!<33
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lunarw0rks · 7 months
Note
Hiii, I've absolutely devoured most of your fics and I absolutely LOVE your writing style ♡♡♡ could you do an established relationship fiction with Ghost? Y/n is sort of asexual, so sometimes even if she's not in the mood herself, she just likes to watch Simon get himself off (maybe multiple rounds!!!)? Nsfw with lots of fluff??? ♡
warning(s): nsfw (18+), established relationship, fluff/smut, (m.) masturbation, asexual!fem!reader
A HELPING HAND | SIMON RILEY
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it's no secret that simon's relationship with intimacy is complicated.
but so is yours, and it makes for a perfect pair... sometimes. tonight was not one of those nights.
"are you alright?" you ask, glancing up from the book in your hands.
he hasn't stopped fidgeting, and he won't. sit. down. it's starting to drive you nuts. but frankly, for such a calm man to get jittery — something was up.
it was random, his sudden urge for intimacy. however, it was clear you were relaxing, in your own little world. he didn't want to soil that. it had been weeks since you two had sex — which was usually never a problem, but tonight was especially difficult for Simon to stifle.
"...'m fine," now he's rearranging the desktop, only sitting down in the desk chair briefly as a means of distraction. his pants were painfully tight by this point.
"simon... simon." you interrupt his rambles, recognizing that familiar shift he's doing in the seat. how one hand has remained on his inner thigh for several minutes. "if you want something, all you need to do is ask, you know that, right?"
the swivel chair comes to a stop when it faces you, but he's still stiff in his posture. "not that kind of favor, love." he says, looking awfully meek for someone with such conviction any other time.
you were only teasing him before. but now you really had an answer — the root of his not-so-little problem, which resided in boxers that are currently a size too small.
though you weren't feeling any urges of your own arise, there was fun to be had in watching him. it wouldn't have been the first time, either. "why don't i watch you again?"
there was no sense in being coy like he was the first time you proposed the idea. it wasn't as awkward as you thought it'd be. in fact, that night you found the sight quite arousing... without acting feeling aroused at that moment. besides, it made the reward for later twice as satisfying — whether it be weeks, or months before you have the desire to reciprocate again.
"you're sure about this?" his movements went still as if waiting on your permission to start palming his thigh again.
with a small smile, you tossed your book aside and let it land somewhere out of sight on the bed. still, you insisted, "deadly serious, si. it doesn't bother me."
he clicked his tongue and nodded to himself, slouching a bit in the chair to unbuckle his belt. the metal clinked as he shimmed with it, eventually setting the accessory on the desk behind him. once the jeans were loosened, you could truly see the pressure of his hardened length — begging to be sprung free.
simon shifted his hips until only his jeans were pulled down a bit. next, he peeled back the waistband of his ebony briefs, cock slumping against his tone stomach. tip ruddy and oozing pre-cum, and his stomach heaved a bit from the sensation of having his problem released from the confines of clothing.
thick, calloused hands grasped his erection, slouching forward to spit on it. the translucent string rolled down his shaft, going the pattern of the prominent veins along its sides. a truly lude image to witness; tempting, even, if you were truly in the mood.
instead, it was motivation enough for another time.
manspreading in the desk chair, he continued to work his cock. faint, wet clicks of the lubricant echoing through the bedroom. it didn't help how quiet simon naturally was. but where was the fun in this, if not putting on some sort of show for you?
he let a few noises slip, huffing through his nostrils audibly and letting out small grunts the faster you went. you lay back against the plush bed, biting back feelings of fluster that came whether aroused or not. his moans were rare and cherished — and you happened to be one of the few souls lucky enough to hear them.
you folded your arms and watched intently, gnawing on your bottom lip. not being aroused didn't mean you weren't going to ogle him, especially when all hot and bothered.
his hand moved hastily, its large size swallowing his length, covering more surface area than yours ever could. you'd catch his hips bucking in the seat while he maintained eye contact — unless they drooped shut when his fingers brushed against his sensitive slit. the same way he shuttered when you skimmed your tongue along it many times, except he had the luxury of not getting 'scolded' for it.
now he's exposed his weak points. you now knew he savored it when you teased your tongue there.
especially when he'd gotten so twitchy with his own thumb caressing. well, now you've taken note to tease him that way again, no matter the repercussions.
"need to— fuck— touch you," his speech skipped like a scratched CD, the strokes growing sloppier and more desirous. he was close; so fucking close.
you nod your head, watching him stand to his feet. as simon walks over, he slows his roll a bit, enough to ensure he won't spill right then and there. you remain in the same position, except for the hand you place on his waist, running your palm up and down his abdomen to give him for stimulation.
he stands beside the bed, his clean hand reaching out. his thumb brushes against your lip, giving your bottom one a slight drag — then slipping between them and running along your gums, allowing you to tongue along his finger like you would his cock.
the sticky, gummy texture of your mouth — like that of your entrance clenching around him. and your caress, like you always did when he hit spots deep inside. your small contributions allowed his imagination to do the rest of the heavy lifting.
you palmed his abs, maintaining eye contact to give him every bit of this otherwise touchless act. but your hand along his stomach was enough, as was playing with your mouth; enough to push him turbulently over that edge.
a string of curses poured from simon's lips, just like the globs of cum that followed quickly after. into his palm, he released his load, hips grinding against nothing until the overwhelming sensations ceased. his finger removed from your mouth with a pop, before he sped to the bathroom to wipe himself off.
a few moments later, he returned, finding you in the same position. it was quite a show, to put it lightly; not one you'll forget any time soon, either.
instead of standing like before, he knelt in front of the bed, sitting between your legs with his neck craned to look up at you. "that was alrigh' with you?" he asks again as if the 'damage' wasn't already done.
you nodded again, reassuring him once more, "of course, si. it doesn't bother me. and it's... a sight to see." you attempt a wink but look more like you're trying to get something out of your eye.
he scoffs at your attempt, taking both your hands — while simon's are icy and freshly smelling of the lavender soap in the washroom. despite your humor, it means a lot to be reassured by you. "christ, you are unbelievable, lovie. y'know tha'?" he teases, giving each of your knuckles a buss.
"i know it," you sneer, squirming slightly from the pecks. "but i still won't forget tonight. it'll keep me warm when you're away."
his brow cocks, and then comes a half-awkward chuckle. "you're a bloody tease, but i'm guessing you know that too, don't you? and a proper smart mouth."
you retort the same, having keen knowledge of how to press his fragile buttons. "what are you going to do? get the soap?"
"might have to." simon replies with faux sternness, even while speaking through a warm smile, the rough pads of his thumbs still rubbing your knuckles.
━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━♡━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━
꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ────have a request? ˗ˏˋ ASK BOX ˎˊ˗
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‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ divider cred. - cafekitsune 。・:*:・
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bellaxgiornata · 2 months
Text
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Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-three: "The Unexpected Introduction"]
Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: You show up at Matt’s office hoping to surprise him and walk home together.
Or You end up with a few surprises yourself.
[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]
Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence
a/n: The installment in which y'all find out who the hell Matt ran into from his past not that long ago that put him in a bad mood and kickstarted Reader's recurring nightmare. Who's it going to be? Feedback is always appreciated!
Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction
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Finally reaching the building's entrance where Nelson, Murdock, and Page was located, you extended a hand forward and pulled open the door. Stepping inside, you readjusted the strap of your purse on your shoulder as your tired feet easily began the familiar trek down the winding hall towards Matt’s office. You hoped that he would be excited to see you after the long day you'd had because you hadn’t told him you were going to stop by after work.
Each step quickly became more uncomfortable than the last, the backs of your dress flats starting to irritate your heels now, painfully digging into your skin. You'd been on your feet most of the day today chasing different leads for a story you'd been working on, and unfortunately your shoes hadn't been the most comfortable pair for the task. Now all you were looking forward to doing was walking home with Matt and having some time alone with him before he inevitably went out as Daredevil later–something he'd been doing a bit more frequently lately. But as you approached the office suite, the door with all three of their names displayed on it finally in sight, you could hear an angry voice coming from the other side. An angry voice that was clearly arguing with someone. It took you only a second to distinguish Matt's enraged tone.
Stopping just in front of their door, you hesitated, both your hands awkwardly clutching the strap of your purse. A frown settled onto your lips as you caught the rest of what Matt's distinct, irritated voice was saying. 
“–irresponsible, Karen?”
“I'm honestly tired of hearing you bring this up all week, Matt,” Karen snapped. “It has absolutely nothing to do with the firm. Let it go already.”
“You represent our law firm!” Matt shot back. “Tell her, Fog! She's making a terrible decision! At the very least it makes us look bad!”
Chewing your lip as you stood frozen in front of their door, you caught the sound of Foggy’s unmistakable nervous laugh.
“Oh whoa, I've made it very clear that I am staying very, very far away from this,” he answered. “I'm not touching this with a twenty foot pole.”
An aggravated noise came from Matt, one you knew all too well from when his nights as the Devil didn't go as planned. Maybe stopping by to walk home with him after work had been a bad idea today. He hadn't seemed upset earlier when you'd spoken at lunch and he'd told you he had something he wanted to ask you, but now you were contemplating turning around and just leaving. But just as you turned, prepared to hurriedly shuffle back down the hallway and wait for Matt at home, you heard him call your name from inside the office. 
You winced immediately, pausing mid-step. Of course it was ridiculous to think you could sneak away without him recognizing your presence, especially being in such close proximity. He'd already told you many times before how easily he could pick up on your heartbeat when you were half a block away even in the busy city foot traffic, there was no way a lone door was going to do much to hide you from him.
“I can hear you out there, sweetheart,” Matt continued, clearly trying to restrain his anger as he spoke. “You might as well come in instead of trying to disappear.”
Sucking in a breath, you turned back around and cautiously opened the door, stepping inside their office. The smile you'd forced onto your face wavered as all three of them immediately turned their attention on you. Nervously you shut the door behind yourself, taking a few steps into the room but staying near the safety of the exit when you spotted the look of barely contained rage still on Matt's face in conjunction with the way his hands were positioned on his hips. You knew that stance. He was clearly furious.
“Hey guys,” you greeted them awkwardly with a wave, one which only Foggy returned along with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to interrupt. I just–just figured I'd stop by and walk home with Matt when he finished tonight.” Eyeing the tight lipped expression on Matt's face and Karen’s annoyed and rigid posture, her arms crossed over her chest, you quickly added, “But it seems like I walked in on the middle of something and I should probably just leave and let you all get back to…whatever it is that you've got going on.”
“You're not interrupting anything,” Karen said, gesturing a hand towards Matt. “By all means take him home, we've been done with work for a bit now. And I could use a break from his constant chastising.”
Matt's hands tightened their grip on his hips, a muscle jumping in the side of his cheek. You took a step back towards the door, already aware that his temper was about to flare up again with the way the corner of his lip was twitching. And sure enough, he was quick to round back on Karen.
“You're being absolutely ridiculous about this,” Matt scolded. “At the very least, think about your own safety.”
Karen blew out an irritated breath, rolling her eyes at Matt. “Oh please,” she replied. “I'm not in any danger, Matt, and you know that. You're just being dramatic because you're still pissed about the other week.”
Another frustrated growl rolled out of Matt, one of his hands flying off his hips to loosen the collar of his tie. You glanced over at Foggy who was on the far side of the desk that all the three of them were standing around. Brows jumping up onto your forehead, you mouthed ‘what's going on’ to him. But Karen apparently caught the silent question you'd asked and her attention returned to you. 
“It's not work related so there's no reason why you can't know,” she told you. “It's because–”
“ No ,” Matt snarled, taking an abrupt step towards Karen as his expression noticeably darkened. “She doesn't need to be remotely involved in anything to do with him .”
Karen scoffed, rolling her eyes at Matt. You continued to stand there in confusion, brows furrowing together as you attempted to make sense of what they were arguing about. Across the room, Foggy was shaking his head and focusing back on packing up his briefcase. 
“We're friends, Matt,” Karen pointed out. “You think she's never going to meet the guy I'm seeing? Because that's a little ridiculous.”
Head tilting to the side, the look of confusion remained on your face. “Justin?” you asked curiously. “You both are arguing about Justin? Because I've already met him a few times, Matt. And you were there.”
Karen grinned back at you, a genuine smile on her face as she shook her head. “No, not Justin,” she answered. “We broke up a couple of weeks ago because someone else…reappeared in my life.”
“ Karen ,” Matt growled in warning. “I told you I didn't want her to know about any of this.”
Karen glared over her shoulder at Matt, her blue eyes narrowed. “Well that's unfortunate for you then because he was on his way here to the office to walk me home after work.”
Matt's expression briefly faltered, his mouth falling open at what she'd said. And then his head snapped to the side, his mouth quickly closing as a frown drew itself across his lips. You saw his jaw begin to grind back and forth in irritation as he focused just beyond the office wall on something. Seconds later his attention shifted straight to you.
“We’re leaving,” he ordered. “ Now .”
He leaned over, grabbing his cane from the desk beside him and roughly beginning to open it. He was moving in a rush it seemed, something that appeared to only further annoy Karen. Though you noticed Foggy was also beginning to move a little faster with packing up his things. 
Who the hell was Karen dating that had these two reacting this way? He couldn't be that bad, could he?
A knock came from the door behind you, the sound drawing you from your racing thoughts. You saw Matt’s hands pause their movements as he stiffened beside the desk. Without thinking you turned, reaching a hand out to open the door for whoever had knocked since you were the one standing beside it, but just as you twisted the handle you heard Matt call out behind you. 
“Sweetheart, don't!”
Swinging the door open, you came face to face with someone you'd recognize absolutely anywhere. The Punisher. Frank Castle.
His brown eyes rose up from where they’d been focused on the floor, landing on you. Your body instantly froze, eyes going wide in surprise. Whoever you’d been expecting to open the door to find, it certainly hadn’t been him. 
You knew him well–or at least, well enough from your time working in the media. The only person who’d ever painted him with any sympathy back during the days when New York was terrified of him was Karen. Her pieces about him had certainly humanized him to you back then, making his violent actions seeking revenge for his family's death make sense. But still. The man had gone on countless shooting sprees in public, which was the main thing you remembered about him in this exact moment with him standing right there in front of you, his imposing figure filling up the entire doorway.
“Ma’am,” he greeted, dipping his head before glancing around you. “I'm just here to see Miss Page.”
“Right, yeah,” you muttered, quickly stepping out of the way.
“Hey, Frank,” Karen greeted, her voice visibly brighter than it had been a moment ago. “I see you’ve now met–”
“No,” Matt spat out, suddenly drawing you backwards and placing himself between you and Frank, “he hasn’t.”
Frank’s dark brows knitted together on his forehead, his eyes narrowing just a fraction back at Matt as his head cocked to the side. Then the corner of his frowning lip twitched upwards into an amused smirk. Matt only squared his shoulders, his muscles tensed like he was about to throw a punch while his left hand white-knuckled his cane.
“That your girl, Red?” he asked. “The one you been telling me to stay away from?”
Matt didn’t say anything in response, though he continued to attempt to block Frank’s view of you behind him. Over by the desk behind you, you heard Karen let out a sigh.
“Yes, it is,” she replied. To Matt she added, “He already knows about her because I’ve told him about her. Because she’s one of my friends , Matt.”
“Well now we’re leaving,” Matt replied sharply to Frank. “So you meeting her ends here.”
He reached a hand out behind himself, easily finding and grabbing onto your wrist. With a slight tug he pulled you after himself and you stumbled forward behind him. Matt led you back towards the desk with him, only releasing your hand to grab his briefcase from off the top of it. Karen shot you a sympathetic smile over Matt’s shoulder as you stood there entirely confused as to what all was going on. 
“He's not attending that gala, either,” Matt warned Karen. “Find another date or go alone, but he isn't coming.”
Karen let out an irritated breath as she crossed her arms over her chest, leaning back against the desk behind her. “Do you really think he's the gala type, Matt?” she shot back. 
An aggravated rumble came from within Matt's chest in response before he turned, his red lenses flashing under the lights overhead as he focused on you. You sucked in a breath, unsure what you were supposed to do or say right now to not further upset him. You still had absolutely no idea what was going on.
“Home. Now,” Matt ordered.
“Okay,” you readily agreed. 
Matt began to lead the way out of the office, his body stiff as he moved. You caught the tension in his jaw as he began grinding his teeth when he passed by Frank. You ducked your head and followed after him, desperate to ask him what was going on when you had both gotten out of the building and he’d hopefully calmed down. Behind you, you heard Foggy quickly scurrying out of the room after you, muttering an awkward goodbye to both Karen and Frank as he went.
Just as you passed through the door you caught the sound of Frank’s voice saying your name. You paused in the doorway, noticing the way Matt came to a halt farther down in the hall, his head immediately snapping over his shoulder. Glancing nervously back into the room just beyond Foggy, you saw Frank smiling back at you. 
“Was good to finally meet you,” he said. “Karen’s told me all about you.”
You sent him a nervous smile, aware of how much Matt probably loved hearing that. 
“Yeah uh, you too,” you replied awkwardly. 
Once more ducking your head and hurrying down the hall after Matt, you heard the amused chuckle coming from Frank in the room behind you just before Karen’s hushed voice scolded him for the comment. Rushing towards the building’s exit, Matt, Foggy, and you walked the winding hallway in silence until you finally stepped back outside onto the sidewalk. Though the moment your foot hit pavement, Matt had swiftly spun around to face you.
“You need to stay away from Frank,” Matt warned you without preamble. “He's dangerous and I don't want you getting hurt, sweetheart. Are we clear on that?”
Your eyes darted over to where Foggy was standing on the sidewalk beside Matt, but he quickly glanced across the street instead of meeting your gaze. Fingers nervously fidgeting with your purse strap again, you focused back on Matt.
“I mean I'm not planning to become his best friend,” you began cautiously, “but if he's really dating Karen…I get the feeling he's going to be around us all on occasion, Matt.”
“You know who he is, right?” Matt asked.
You sighed, nodding. “Of course. What kind of New York City journalist would I be if I didn't?” you questioned back. “But at the same time…I do remember Karen’s articles. The man lost his family tragically. Right in front of his eyes. It…kind of makes sense that he'd want revenge. Do the things he went out and did.”
Matt's dark brows dipped behind his glasses as his head tilted sharply to the side. “Are you saying you agree with what he did?” 
“No!” you exclaimed, quickly shaking your head. “Not at all. I'm just saying I understand why he did it. And that he at least wasn’t on some mass rampage for the hell of it like a completely deranged person. There was a reason. One that I think would be hard to understand without having been in his position. But Matt,” you continued, voice gentler, “what's got you so worked up about him? I highly doubt Karen would be with him if he was going to hurt her or any of us. I mean hell, it was your firm that represented him in court. And what the hell did Karen mean about you still being pissed about the other week? Because I’m guessing that had something to do with Frank, right?”
Matt's gaze dropped down towards the pavement, that muscle jumping in his cheek again. You glanced over at Foggy only to catch him quickly look away once again, avoiding eye contact. What the hell was going on?
“You want to tell me what I clearly am being left out of?” you asked, anger rising in you as you focused back on Matt. “Because I thought we didn't keep secrets, Matt. What’s been going on?”
Shoulders dropping in defeat, Matt let out a sigh. His entire demeanor immediately changed before your eyes and your curiosity piqued even further. 
“The other week,” Matt began slowly, “when I came home injured and had a bad night out? Do you remember when I told you that I'd run into someone from my past?”
You nodded. Of course you remembered that night, it had been the sole cause of that damn recurring nightmare ever since then. And you'd never stopped wondering just who he'd run into that had gotten such good hits on him through the protection of his red suit, or who’d put him in such a foul mood.
“Yes,” you answered.
“It was Frank,” Matt confessed. “I caught him chasing after someone that night. I got in his way and stopped him because I will not have anyone killing people, especially not in my city. But of course he didn't…agree with me. At first. Not until after we'd fought.”
“Oh,” you said, everything beginning to make more sense. “So that’s who’d given you those bruises?”
Matt nodded, his gaze still downcast. “We’d come to a sort of agreement afterwards, Frank and I. But then a few days later I find out him and Karen started seeing each other. Which is just–” he paused, shaking his head, “–completely absurd. He’s dangerous. He attracts dangerous people with what he’s doing.” His head rose up, his attention returning to you. “Which is why I want you to stay away from him. I don’t need you getting caught up in anything he has going on, alright? It’s not safe.”
You held up your hands, eyes going wide. “Okay, okay,” you replied. “Like I said, I really don’t think I’m about to become best friends with the Punisher, even if Karen is dating him. But again…I can’t exactly avoid him completely, either. I’m not going to stop being friends with Karen, Matt.”
Matt blew out a rough breath, nodding slowly. “I know, and I’m not asking you to do that,” he replied. “Just…keep some distance from Frank. Please?”
“Okay,” you assured him with a nod. “I can do that. Now can I have my Matty back and the growly Devil can come back later tonight? Because I’ve had a long day and I was looking forward to walking home with you.”
A small smile grew on his face, the tension somewhat easing further from his body as he nodded. You found yourself feeling a little more relaxed yourself at the sight, your mood beginning to lift back up. But then Foggy abruptly clapped his hands loudly together beside you, causing you to jump as your eyes flew over towards him.
“Great!” Foggy exclaimed. “Glad that’s settled finally. Now Matt, do you want to tell your girl about this weekend or should I?”
Your eyes shifted back and forth between the two men curiously. Foggy was smiling wide as if the past ten minutes hadn’t just happened while a little smirk began playing along Matt’s lips. Eyes narrowing suspiciously back at him, you wondered what else was going on.
“What?” you asked.
“We were invited to a gala for this weekend–” Matt began.
“Last minute, of course,” Foggy cut in, clearly too excited to let Matt take the lead, “because I’m sure it was meant as a slight against our firm. But either way, we still got an invite.”
Matt chuckled, the warm sound a welcome one after how angry he’d just been. You couldn’t help the little smile from spreading out along your face as Foggy’s energy started to rub off on you.
“It’s to raise money for underprivileged children in the city,” Foggy continued. “It’s an annual thing, but it’s this fancy gala that quite a few prestigious names in the city attend. And we get to go this year!”
“Wow,” you said, attention returning to Matt as your excitement for them grew. “That sounds like a great opportunity for the firm!”
“Well,” Matt began, that smirk still on his lips, “I was hoping you’d grant me the privilege of being my lovely date to the event this Saturday evening.”
The smile immediately faltered on your face at his question. You noticed the way Matt caught your reaction with the slight tilt of his head and faint furrow of his brows. Fingers once again nervously toying with the straps of your purse, you tried to hide the anxiety that suddenly flooded you.
“Does uh, does this fancy gala have a dress code?” you asked hesitantly.
“It’s black tie,” Foggy answered.
You winced, chewing your lip nervously. “Oh,” you breathed out. “And it’s… this Saturday? Because I–I don’t exactly have anything to wear to something so…nice.”
The smirk returned to Matt’s face almost immediately. “Neither does Karen,” he told you. “So she’s taking tomorrow off to go shopping for a dress. And I figured maybe you could take the day off and go with her. Have a nice girl's day together. Pick out whatever you want on me. Dress, shoes, purse. All of it.”
Your eyebrows immediately shot up onto your forehead in surprise. Matt had never done anything like that for you before. In fact, no one had. Beside him, you saw Foggy nudge Matt with an elbow.
“Always so damn smooth, Murdock,” he teased.
The cocky smirk only grew on Matt’s lips as he remained focused on you. “So what do you say, sweetheart?” he asked. “Care to accompany me this weekend?”
Teeth clamping down on your lip, you tried to fight back the smile attempting to take over your face. A black tie event meant that you’d get to see Matt in a tux again–a rare treat. And there was absolutely no way you were going to miss that opportunity.
“I’d love to,” you answered. 
Matt’s smirk grew into a wide grin, the anger he’d been feeling moments ago entirely replaced by a look of love as he gazed back at you. And now you secretly found yourself looking forward to having him with you Saturday night instead of out as the Devil once more.
237 notes · View notes
generalsdiary · 2 months
Text
09:07 am
gn!reader x Dr. Ratio
warnings: none
word count: 600~
a/n: pure brainrot, not beta read, jamming to sparkle’s theme
description: you do his eyeliner, drabble (fluff)
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„hold still“ you dictate under your breath, your hand holding his chin in place.
he sighs. „I am very still-“ „yapping means you are not being still, I'll mess up the line, Veritas“ causing a glare from him. your other hand was resting on his cheek and attempting to make a perfect red line on his eyelid.
it looked... good enough when you were done. you moved your hand away, placing the brush on the nightstand and relaxing your posture. „there“
Veritas brings a small mirror to check your work, „hmm... I've done better. of course I do it every day“ his eyes leave the mirror and catch you glaring at him, „it was a bonding moment, Doctor Ratio“ your tone of voice revealing sarcasm and a hint of annoyment.
„that doesn't clear you away from criticism, especially if you wish to improve.“ his hands pull you back onto his lap, his eyes, the color of an eternal sunset, turning soft, „which would be good for you, you could then do it more often.“ Veritas smiles showing the gentle reasoning to his somewhat harsh sounding words. his swift change in behavior catches you slightly off guard.
„so hot and cold“ responding in a teasing tone.
„ah, I'd say I'm more hot than cold right now, aren't I,-“ his hand cups your chin, „my dear?“
a smile is apparent on your face, as is the eye roll, „and cocky it seems“ making him scoff at your words and look away. „don't worry Veritas, that is one of the reasons I... tolerate you“ you communicate those words in the form of a kiss on his cheek. Veritas' expression relaxes, his eyes closing.
„who's the hot and cold one now?“ his voice but a mere whisper. „unlike yourself, that isn't one of the reasons I like you.“ he waits for a response, patiently scanning your face to see if you'll try to guess. „then what is?“ guessing game isn't worth it at this moment, Veritas very obviously has a specific reason in mind and you feel excited to hear it.
„your kindness. and tolerance, towards... idiots“ to him, those words are completely true, despite his aloof character and at first glance rude behavior he cares a lot. he made sacrifices that benefit… well the whole universe; solving an energy crisis, creating serums, fixing centuries-old issues, and to him, most importantly, he continuously tries to make knowledge available to all people. of course, Ratio would appreciate those same qualities in his partner, not seeking a ‘genius’ necessarily, but rather just a humanitarian, sensible person.
Veritas' words don't fail to make you laugh and ruffle his silky soft violet hair, „and you! are my favorite~“ you exclaim proudly, with a shit-eating grin on your face, knowing he will react to the provocation.
„oh?“ he smirks as well, his hands moving from your sides to your back, he lays back and pushes you with him, making you gasp sharply. „what was it- I didn't catch that, what am I?“ he teases, his voice playful.
„an id-“ Veritas doesn't let you finish your thought, his lips crashing against yours, and when you start enjoying the kiss and the sweet taste of his lips - he pulls away, keeping it painfully short.
„hm... you were saying?“ his hand goes to the back of your head, rubbing your nape.
you frown, how dare he limit the kisses, „an idio-“ once again Veritas doesn’t let you finish the thought, pulling your lips onto his again. you can't help but chuckle and softly mumble between your lips meeting, „my favorite~“, „you mean the only one“, a laugh bubbles up your throat, even in a joke he wants it to be factually correct… or is it a hint of jealousy? doubtful, he isn’t a jealous man to your knowledge. food for thought perhaps.
„yes, the only one.“
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sentientgolfball · 8 months
Text
Lessons
I did it. I wrote the damn Swiss/Phantom/Reader that's been rattling in my brain.
18+ MDNI
Word Count: 3051
Tags: degradation, choking, Swiss is a bit of a voyeur, rough Phantom if you squint, irresponsible use of quintessence
Summary: Phantom admits he's never been with a human. You and Swiss share a look before deciding that's about to change.
“Look at just how fucking wet they are.” 
“You sure you didn’t bring me a water ghoul?” 
Phantom laughed to himself before sliding his fingers between your legs gathering as much slick as he could. You whine when he draws his hand away much too soon. He stares in awe at his fingers, his thought process clear as day on his face. Swiss pushes him lightly with his foot
“Not yet ant. You still don’t know just how delicate humans are.” 
You huff a laugh “I’ll show you delicate when I stick my foot up your fuck—“ You were cut off by the tip of Swiss’ tail snaking around to brush lightly over your swollen clit. 
“First lesson: humans are so sensitive. It only takes a few touches to get ‘em going” he demonstrates this by letting go of one of your wrists and sliding a finger into your cunt “But it’s a double-edged sword. They’re so easy to overstimulate. Gotta take your time.” He draws his hand back, wiping the slick onto your thigh. 
The way he was talking about you like you weren’t even there like you’re nothing more than a tool to teach Phantom how to fuck was only making the pool of slick between your legs worse. 
He was right though. Everything felt so hazy. How long has it been? You remember a sloppy make-out session with Phantom as Swiss critiqued while palming himself in the corner. That was a while ago. You may not remember how long the three of you have been at it, but you do remember how you got there. 
You snuck into the ghoul den after your shift in the kitchen had ended with an armful of sugary contraband. Siblings weren’t typically allowed in the dens unless personally brought into them, but your job got you a free ticket. It all started when you caught Swiss and Dew trying to break into the kitchens in the middle of the night. After some negotiations including a decent amount of tongue, you settled on a simple deal. You bring them as many pastries as you can carry and they’ll fuck your brains out. 
When you had gotten to the den it appeared Swiss was the only one present, so you flopped onto the couch and shared the cakes with him. When you had finished your fill, Swiss had pulled you into his lap mumbling something about needing something sweeter before he licked a stripe from your neck to your jawline. That’s when Phantom walked in. When you noticed him you quickly jumped out of Swiss’ grasp much to his chagrin. 
“Do you want some?” Swiss had asked the quintessence ghoul assuming he had been drawn out of his room by the sweet smells of baked goods. This caused him to go rigid with a small blush creeping into his face “I’ve never been with a human…” 
You were about ready to clear up the misunderstanding when you caught Swiss’ eyes. You recognized that look and you immediately knew he was going to dig his heels into this. His gaze flicked to you for a moment seeking your permission before he opened his mouth. Fuck it. Your growing grin was all he needed. You and Swiss made a show out of groping and kissing each other for the other ghoul who just stared on slack-jawed shifting himself around in his pants. You three only left for Swiss’ room when Dew and Rain came through the main door 
“Oh come on we’ve only had this couch for like a week.” Rain huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Go fuck somewhere else so we can eat in peace or I’ll up your tax.” Dew stuffed a brownie into his mouth not even looking up from the horde of sweets. 
That’s how you ended up where you are now. Pressed firm against Swiss’ chest, wrists squeezed between his clawed hands, tail wrapped around one leg to keep you open while Phantom sits crouched in front of you eyes wild, dick painfully erect, shaking with anticipation. He looks up at Swiss with pleading eyes 
“Can I taste them? Please?” 
“Hands-on learning, I like it. Go right ahead.” 
Phantom’s eyes sparked and he dove between your spread legs eagerly licking into you. You cried out and arched against Swiss as he pushed impossibly deeper, swiping his forked tongue from your clit to your slit. He was lapping at you in earnest, filling the room with obscene wet noises. Swiss hissed and bumped Phantom’s head with his knee to get his attention. His head popped up with wide, blown-out pupils and a wet chin. He looked at Swiss with a furrowed brow and a whine deep in his throat. 
“What did I say? It’s not like one of the girls. It’s a human.” 
Phantom nodded and lowered himself again slowly circling his tongue around your clit before taking it into his mouth and sucking. You gasp and push your hips closer to him to the best of your ability. Swiss chuffs a laugh and wraps an arm tight around your midsection forcing you to keep still. 
“See what I mean? Humans are so easy” he brings his lips to your ear pressing a kiss to it “Come on be a good little pet for him. All you have to do is lay there and take it.” 
You threw your head onto his shoulder with a moan feeling Phantom’s tongue drag over your hole before carefully pushing in. Part of you wanted to kill Swiss for the little game he was playing, convincing Phantom to go so painfully slow that it had you shaking. The other part of you was too drunk on being brought to the edge and let down over and over again to stop him. 
“Tastes fucking amazing.” He pulls back slightly to look up at Swiss for approval 
“If you think that’s good, wait for lesson two.”
Phantom looked at him grinning wildly urging him to continue. His tail was beating against the side of the bed rhythmically. 
Swiss smiles “Glamour your claws” Phantom does so immediately waiting for more “You’ve been with Cirrus you know what to do from here. Just take it slow, you don’t wanna break em.” 
You have half a mind to curse Swiss but the thought quickly dies when you feel Phantom slide a finger inside of you “shit Phantom if you’re gonna touch me then touch me.” You try to cant your hips chasing any friction but Swiss holds you firmly in place. 
“Filthy.” He laughs before removing his finger. He brings his hand to his mouth and wraps his tongue around his fingers groaning when he tastes you. He then all at once shoves two of his fingers into you. You cry out trying to snap your thighs shut but Swiss’ tail holds strong. 
He tuts “How many times am I gonna have to tell you to go slow.”
Phantom's laugh sends a shiver through you “Aw come on I think they can handle something a little more.” 
Swiss growls in warning. Phantom rolls his eyes but compiles, leisurely curling his fingers inside you. He applies pressure to your clit with the pad of his thumb as he drags his fingers against your walls searching for the sweet spot. You bite your lip to stifle the groans threatening to spill, but that quickly changes when he dips his head back down adding his tongue to the mix. 
“Sing for him pet. Let him know just how good he is.” Swiss says as he presses kisses into your neck occasionally letting his fangs scrape the skin. 
Your free hand shoots to his head grabbing a fist full of hair as he fingers you faster, tongue flicking over your clit in time with his thrusts. He moans at the feeling causing you to shiver at the added vibration. You let out a series of little groans and huffs as you feel yourself being pushed closer to the edge. 
“Don’t stop. So fucking close.” 
Swiss takes a deep breath and kisses a trail from your neck to your ear “I’ll make it up to you later.” He laughs and bites your lobe. Your brow furrows in confusion for a moment before he speaks again 
“Hands off.” 
“Don’t you fucking dare.” 
Phantom falters for a second not knowing who to listen to before he pulls back and sits up to look at Swiss. You whine pathetically, burying your face into the multi-ghoul’s neck feeling yourself clench around nothing.
“Time for lesson three. Humans go crazy for this one.” Swiss places a firm hand on your stomach. There’s a split second where you can smell ozone. You don’t have enough time to react before the feeling of pure pleasure ripples through you causing you to cum with a string of obscenities. 
“What the fuck was that?” Phantom asks in awe looking from your dripping cunt to Swiss’ hand.
“You’re seriously telling me you’ve never once thought to use your quintessence like this?” Phantom shakes his head with a growing smile, fangs poking out of the bottom of his lip. 
Swiss smiles and removes his hand from your stomach only to grab Phantom’s and place it there. 
“Find the thread and isolate it.” 
You can feel the quintessence spark to life on your skin, through your whole body filling every nerve with energy. This lasts for a few seconds before you’re screaming, arching against Swiss’ grasp as you feel nothing but pure overwhelming pleasure ripple through you. Phantom rips his hand away looking genuinely fearful for a moment. 
Swiss just chuckles “Neat trick but save that one for Dew. Remember lesson one.”
“Humans are easy.” He says quietly 
Swiss nods “All it takes is a little spark.”
You squirm in Swiss’ grasp when Phantom reaches for you again. He stops and folds his hand in his lap not sure what to do. You take a second to catch your breath, your mind fuzzy with the most intense orgasm of your life. 
“You wanna stop just say the word.” 
You felt like you were underwater. Everything was too much and too little. You needed more. This is why you kept coming to the ghoul den after all, you wanted your brains fucked out and unfortunately for you, you could still think. You settle back against Swiss chest still heaving 
“Just lay there and take it right?” You let yourself go slack. Phantom sighs with relief upon seeing that he didn’t actually hurt you. He’s soft for about a second before he grabs your hips and looks you up and down. 
“Can I try something?” His gaze flicks to Swiss.
“Depends. Does that something include what I’ve shown you?” He nods a growl forming deep in his throat. 
“Consider it your final exam then.”
Phantom barks a laugh “And what if I fail?” The look in his eyes was wild as he squeezed your hips harder. He never removed his gaze from your waiting hole. 
“Then I won’t share my toy with you anymore.” Swiss runs a hand up your body cupping and squeezing one of your breasts like he’s showing you off. 
Phantom flicks his tongue out with a sick grin on his face that makes your heart speed up. He slowly brings the head of his cock to your entrance stopping only to seek Swiss’ approval. When he’s met with no resistance he pushes in with a guttural moan. 
“Fucking shit are all humans this tight?” His chest heaves as he bottoms out pausing to give you a moment to adjust to the feeling of him. You throw your head back against Swiss’ shoulder squeezing your eyes shut. You didn’t even realize tears had fallen from the corners until you felt the fork of a tongue lick a stripe up your face. You let out a choked gasp when Phantom starts to move experimentally. He thrusts into you a few times before growling in satisfaction. He grips the leg not currently held by Swiss’ tail hard before throwing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. 
Gone is the Phantom that cared about your comfort as he begins to pound into you like this is the last time he’ll ever have sex. Each thrust pushes you harder against Swiss, he grunts with each movement and you swear you can feel a wet spot on your back where his dick is pressed. You let a string of moans leave your throat as Phantom snaps his hips against yours muttering something in Infernal. 
He sits back to watch himself fuck into you for a moment before removing his other hand from your hips. He slowly drags the tips of his claws up your abdomen, between your tits before coming to a stop at your throat. He tests the waters by wrapping his nimble fingers around your neck without any pressure. You gaze up at him with big pleading eyes that practically throw him over the edge. He begins to apply pressure to the sides of your throat, squeezing and releasing in time with his thrusts.
“Such a fucking freak. Risking your job to get some demon dick. I bet you’d like it if I did this.” He punctuates his sentence by squeezing hard around your neck and holding it, forcing you to open your mouth in a silent scream in an attempt to get air. He only releases the pressure when your eyes start to flutter closed with tears spilling out. 
He laughs “I can see why you like fucking humans so much.” Swiss only groans in response too lost in his own haze of lust to keep up the role of teacher. He keeps his hand secure around your neck causing you to clench around him. He moans loud and low, hips faltering as his orgasm creeps closer to him. 
Suddenly the air is once more filled with the smell of ozone as Phantom’s quintessence sparks to life. The pressure returns to your throat as you feel his magic course through every vein in your body. Your eyes snap open as you scream silently grabbing onto Swiss’ arm for support as your vision blurs from the lack of oxygen and the force of your orgasm. 
“Look Swiss no hands.” He grunts as his brows furrow as he concentrates on fucking you through the waves of pleasure and keeping his quintessence flowing into you. Both his hands are squeezing bruises into your hips before suddenly you’re empty and all you can feel is his cum splashing onto your stomach practically reaching your chest. 
He takes a brief moment to catch his breath before snapping his fingers. You take in a gulp of air as the feeling of the pressure around your neck disappears. You stare up at the ceiling chest heaving as you come down from your high. 
“What the fuck was that?” Swiss asks in awe mirroring your own thoughts.
Phantom smiles proudly at the tone of the multi-ghouls voice “Told you I wanted to try something.” 
“You’re so showing me how to do that.” This causes Phantom’s tail to beat against the side of the bed. There’s a bit of a dusty blush creeping onto his face. 
“Can we please save the magical choking contest for another night? I think I’ll die if I cum again.” This earns a laugh and a sweet, chaste kiss from Swiss, but Phantom looks genuinely mortified. You feel a prickle of guilt reaching up with a shaky hand to guide his lips to yours. You give him a kiss before pulling back and kissing his nose. A purr kicks up in his chest immediately as he softens. 
Swiss brings a hand to Phantom’s head and gives it a scratch “Now it's time for lesson four.” 
You’re about to protest when you’re suddenly lifted by the multi-ghoul.
 “Swiss what the hell?!” 
“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realize you wanted to lay in cum and sweat all night please forgive me”
You squeal and cling to his neck when he makes an over-exaggerated move to put you down “That's what I thought.” He presses a kiss to your forehead as he carries you to the bathroom connected to his bedroom, Phantom hot on his heels. 
He gets the bath ready setting out all your favorite soaps and explaining to Phantom the use of bath salts. The tub is only big enough for two of you to soak comfortably so you end up curled against the quintessence ghoul as Swiss scrubs your hair from the side of the bath. Phantom hasn’t stopped purring or asking if everything was okay, that he didn’t hurt you. You attempt to quell the little ghoul’s worry with a few soft kisses to his chest. While this does shut him up, you’re well aware of the occasional pop of magic filling you with relaxation. 
I’m going to kill Swiss for making him think I’d break you think to yourself, wait…oh shit Swiss.
You raise your head from Phantom’s chest and look at the multi-ghoul who was gathering towels for when the two of you were finished.
“What?” He tilts his head with a smile.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” 
Your eyes flick down to his half-hard dick. He chuckles when he realizes.
“Don’t even think about it. I’m a big ghoul I can take care of myself,” He kisses you before you can protest “Besides, I gotta have something left in me for when I walk back out there and Dew has inevitably eaten the rest of the stash.”  You huff when he winks at you and resign yourself to cuddling with Phantom. 
You two stay in the bath until the water cools, but at this point, you’re hardly conscious. The two ghouls have to practically drag you up and out of the tub and into some clothes. Phantom flops into the bed and pulls you close to him, wrapping his tail around your waist as you bury your head into the crook of his neck. Swiss presses a kiss to your temple and passes a hand through Phantom’s hair before throwing on his sweatpants and leaving the room. The last thing you hear before passing out is a muffled yelp and a “Told you he’d be pissed.”
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dntaewithluv · 2 years
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Private Lesson | myg
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Your little sister finds it odd how you've been taking private lessons from her piano teacher for over a month now, but she hasn't heard you actually play even once...
🎹 Pairing: pianoteacher/pianist!yoongi x reader
🎹 Word Count: 5.5k
🎹 Rating: 18+
🎹 Genre: Friends with benefits to lovers, piano teacher/pianist au, smut, fluff, minor drama/angst
🎹 Warnings: Y/N is lying to her younger sister, explicit language, we love secretly hooking up with our sister's hot piano teacher 🤩, making out, biting/marking, Yoongi has some dom tendencies, groping, there's an actual piano lesson and it's wholesome until it's not™️, Yoongi plays his sabotage card 😈, explicit sexual content, lots of teasing/taunting, rubbing, fingering, multiple orgasms, cum eating/feeding, oral (f receiving), hair pulling, scratching, brief handjob, unprotected sex (pls be safe), sex on top of Yoongi's first love (the piano 👀), it's fluffy and wholesome at the end, Y/N lets Yoongi keep her underwear, really the only drama/angst is because they're hooking up in secret oof
A/N: Funny how I forget this man owns me until I see him again and then it's painfully clear 🥹 This was inspired by and spiraled into this™️ after the YTC concert this weekend. It felt really good to be inspired and motivated to write something again, so I really hope you enjoy this if you decide to check it out 🥰 Thank you as always for your patience and kindness and support I purple you always 💜
Masterlist
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“Okay, Faith, I’m heading out.” you called out as you made your way towards the front door, “Should be back in an hour or so.”
Your fifteen-year-old sister, seated at the kitchen table, looked up from her phone, “You know, I really just don’t understand why you don’t just sign up for one of his classes. I know he offers them specifically for adults. It’d probably be way cheaper than whatever you’re paying for all these private lessons.”
You laughed at her remark, trying your best not to let your nerves show.
“I told you, I don’t feel comfortable playing in front of other people. Too much pressure, and too many pairs of eyes on you. Having one person there makes me nervous enough.”
Your little sister stared back at you, seeming to search your face for some answer to whatever she was looking for.
“Yeah, but, Y/N, you won’t even play in front of me. And I’m your sister. You’d think after six weeks worth of lessons, you’d at least be able to do that. Wouldn’t it be cool for us to be able to play something together sometime?”
You felt a twinge of guilt pierce you at her words and the look on her face. You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as you wracked your brain for a response that would satisfy her.
“Tell you what, Faith. I’ll ask Yoo-I mean Mr. Min to teach me one of the pieces you guys are working on in class, and we’ll try to play together soon. Sound good?” you proposed, hoping it would suffice for now.
Faith’s expression shifted, and you were grateful to see that she didn’t look nearly as upset.
“Yeah, okay, sounds good. Have a good lesson.” she said with a small smile before turning back to her phone.
You waited to let out your sigh of relief until you were on the other side of the door. Well that had been fucking close.
Your anxiety only grew more heightened as you pulled up to the familiar condo. No longer feelings of guilt, but of excitement and anticipation. You felt yourself walk a little too fast up to the door, finger immediately reaching out to push the doorbell. You held your breath as you always did when the door was being swung open. And then there he was.
It was truly unfair how hot he looked today and every time you saw him. He had a plain white tee tucked into a pair of high waisted black pants, a single silver chain hanging from his neck. His long, dark, gorgeous locks cascaded down either side of his handsome face. Every single part of you was buzzing.
“And here I was starting to think that maybe you were going to stand me up for our lesson.” he greeted you, eyes giving you a very obvious once over.
Heat washed over you.
“You know I would never.” you voiced, a hint of playfulness in your tone, “I need the practice, and you and I both know it.”
An amused smirk took over his features, “You know I’m always more than happy to oblige a student in need. Please, come in, and we can get started.”
You sauntered past him and into the condo, feeling his gaze on you all the while. No sooner had he closed the door behind you, than you were being pushed up against it, Yoongi hastily crashing his lips against your own. You matched his urgency as your mouths moved together, and your hands slid up into his midnight strands.
He was always more worked up, more rough, anytime you were late. Anytime you had kept him waiting. Today was no exception as he practically swallowed you, his fingers surely making imprints across the skin of your hips from how hard he was pushing you against the door.
His teeth nipped harshly at your lips as his tongue tangled messily with yours. That wild look you had come to know all too well over the past six weeks was present in his dark eyes when he suddenly pulled back from you.
“Well, shit.” you rasped, laughing slightly, “I missed you too.”
Yoongi’s response was to begin hungrily kissing down your neck, and you sighed out as you held him against you.
“You were all I could think about all fucking day.” he murmured as his lips seared against your skin.
“Mmm, you might’ve crossed my mind a time or two.” you teased back, and Yoongi growled against your neck before sinking his teeth into you.
You cried out, your head falling back against the door. He pushed one of his legs between yours and pressed his thigh against you, making you let out a whimper as his tongue simultaneously soothed the spot on your neck. His leg pressed harder and you gasped sharply, “You really wanna be a brat today? After you were already late? Think carefully about your decision, darling.”
It probably wouldn’t be the best idea to be honest. And you knew you would struggle to come up with a reason to explain to Faith why you couldn’t walk the next day…
“No…no. I’ll be good, Yoongi.”
He kissed you just behind your ear, hot breath hitting your skin, “Smart girl. Looks like I’ve been teaching you something these last several weeks after all.”
He immediately went back to sucking color into your neck as his fingers slipped beneath your sun dress and began trailing up the inside of your thigh. His other hand roughly pulled down the strap of your dress to expose your shoulder and some of your chest. Your mind was starting to go fuzzy. The way it always did when you were with Yoongi. But the mention of his teaching reminded you of your promise to Faith.
“Yoongi.” you tried, but it came out as a moan from the way his teeth scraped against your collarbone.
His free hand groped at your breast over your clothes while his fingers started to dip between your thighs. It wouldn’t be long before you would be lost in your pleasure. Lost in him.
“Yoongi, wait.”
You’d actually managed to find your voice this time, and Yoongi was immediately pulling back to look at you as his hand retreated out from underneath your dress.
“Darling, what is it?” he queried, concern briefly flashing across his handsome features.
“It’s just…it’s my sister.”
Yoongi’s eyes went wide, “Wait, does Faith know about us?”
“No, no.” you reassured him quickly, “At least I don’t think she does. But, she is starting to wonder why after six weeks of lessons that she hasn’t heard me play. Like, at all.”
You watched as Yoongi processed this information, and marveled at how cute his thinking face was. You desperately wanted to be kissing him again, but it would have to wait for now.
“So, what you’re saying is, that you think our weekly “piano lessons” should actually be used for piano lessons?” he asked, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I mean, we can definitely still have sex. But I do think I should at least start becoming more familiar with the piano if we wanna keep this under wraps like we have been.” you explained further, looping your arms around Yoongi’s neck as you talked.
His hands came to rest on your hips once again, “You know, darling, I think I have the perfect solution.”
This time you lifted your eyebrows at him. You knew he was fucking with you, but you still decided to ask anyway.
“Oh, and what solution is that?”
Yoongi gripped you harder, making your dress bunch up slightly in his hold.
“I could fuck you on my piano. That would definitely help you become more familiar with it.” he mused, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
You rubbed your thighs together before you could stop yourself, and Yoongi, of course, noticed immediately. You quickly tried to defuse the rapidly mounting tension.
“Yoon, I’m serious about this. It’s really important to my sister, and at least this way what I’m telling her won’t be a complete lie. Just teach me some of the basics so I have something to show from all these “lessons”. Pleeeeeeease Yoonie.” you pleaded sweetly, and the piano teacher revealed his gums when he smiled at you.
“Alright, alright. You’re right, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea. And if anyone’s gonna teach you, it should be me.” he relented before taking both of your hands and leading you over to one of the many pianos he had in his luxurious condo.
This particular one was displayed right by his wall of glass windows. Sunlight filtered through the panes and fell on the inviting instrument. Yoongi gestured for you to take a seat on the bench, and you let out a slightly nervous giggle before sitting down. You only missed his warmth for a second before he was right next to you, hip bumping against yours.
His fingers hovered over the keys with such a natural grace, and all you could do was stare at him in awe for a moment. He belonged here. That was clear as day. He positioned his foot on the pedal below, closed his eyes, and began to play. The notes were soft and delicate, as was his touch against the keys.
He looked so beautiful like this, and you felt your breath catch in your chest. It was as if he and the instrument were one and the same, sharing the same soul. He was lost in it, and the music was lost in him. Out of everything you and Yoongi had done since the two of you had started hooking up, this, this, felt the most intimate.
You were overcome with the sudden realization that you were starting to fall in love with him, and nothing had ever scared you more in your entire life. Yoongi’s eyes suddenly fluttered open, and you weren’t prepared for the calm intensity in them when he turned to you. Without taking his hands off the keys, he leaned over and gently brought his lips to yours.
You felt yourself flush furiously because this was a different kind of kiss. Not the kind that had heat surging through you and craving more, more, more. The kind that made your heart stutter in your chest and sent every part of you fluttering. A kiss that made you think that maybe, just maybe, he was starting to fall for you too.
The two of you broke apart, but the closeness remained.
“I don’t know if I ever told you,” Yoongi began softly, warm breath hitting your lips, “but the piano was actually my first love.”
He grew shy suddenly, cheeks heating at the admission as his hands froze over the keys. He had really shown you something so precious. Something that was at the very core of who he was. All you could think about was how honored and lucky you felt that he had chosen to share it with you.
You smiled warmly at him, “Well, then, I’m honored to meet her. Thank you for sharing this with me. You really play so beautifully.”
He blushed deeper, and his gums poked out when he grinned bashfully back at you. The moment felt as delicate as the notes he’d just been pulling from the piano. You found yourself wanting to stay in it for as long as possible. But then Yoongi suddenly cleared his throat and brushed his hands nervously over his pants.
“Okay, your turn now.”
“You really expect me to follow that up?” you questioned back, the nerves beginning to settle over you once more.
Yoongi chuckled, the sound dancing in his eyes, “Of course not. I’m just gonna show you some basic scales.”
You playfully bumped his shoulder with your own.
“Show off.” you remarked teasingly.
“Don’t act like I didn’t just woo the fuck out of you with my piano skills.” he quipped back, flashing you a cocky smirk.
You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face, betraying you.
“Okay, fine. Consider me wooed. I guess you can court me now or whatever. After our lesson of course.” you reminded him, and Yoongi swept his hand over the top of the keyboard as if to say “All yours”.
As promised, Yoongi taught you some of the basic scales. It was honestly so hard to concentrate though because there was something so sexy about when he went into teacher mode. Especially once he covered your hands with his own to guide them over the keys. Your brain just went completely blank anytime his hands were on you.
“You know, you could always just join one of my classes. If you wanted to.” he voiced as he helped maneuver your hands.
“Yeaaaaah, something tells me I wouldn’t be able to learn very much. I’d be too distracted by the hot teacher.” you replied cheekily.
Yoongi’s grip on your hands tightened briefly, and you smirked to yourself. But then he switched to teasingly trailing his fingers over your hands and up your arms and back down again, sending shivers through you with his phantom touch.
“I don’t think I’d be able to concentrate either.” he started, his mouth right next to your ear, “There’d only be one thing I’d want to have my hands on…and it wouldn’t be the piano.”
He pulled your ear between his teeth, and you squirmed next to him on the bench. His lips traveled along the length of your jaw, warm and hungry. You sighed out as you leaned into his touch, “Well I feel properly educated for the day. You were a great teacher.”
He hummed, and his mouth vibrated over your throat.
“Mmm, I want you to play the C major scale I showed you before we finish up our lesson for today.”
You pouted even though he couldn’t see it.
“Yoonieeee.” you whined, his teeth grazing your skin in response.
“Play the scale, and then we can start our real lesson.”
You hesitantly raised your fingers over the keys, trying to remember what he had literally just taught you. You pressed down on the first few keys, feeling a tiny victory at the familiar sound. You felt a little more confident going forward now. Until Yoongi sabotaged you by sliding one of his hands over your shoulder and down the front of your dress. He squeezed your breast, and you cried out as your finger struck the wrong key.
“Yoongi.” you scolded him, but he paid you no mind as he continued to knead your soft flesh and bruise your skin with his harsh mouth.
His thumb flicked over your nipple, and you jerked on the bench.
“Start again.” he said simply.
Fuck. This was going to be impossible.
Your hands were shaking this time as you positioned them back over the keys. You willed all your concentration and focus to be on playing the right keys in the scale, and not on Yoongi’s other hand, which was now starting to slip under your dress. You held your breath, making it about halfway through before your hands slammed down on the piano from the feeling of his fingers dipping beneath the waistband of your panties.
“How in the fuck do you expect me to do this?” you demanded in frustration, your body beginning to tremble slightly.
His long digits glided through your folds, teasing you, and your hands curled into fists against your knees.
“Focus. Start again. Play the scale.” he pressed, the words searing against the skin of your shoulder.
Maybe if you just got through the scale as fast as possible. You discovered, however, that when your speed increased, so did the speed of Yoongi’s fingers as they rubbed over your aching core. Your head had nearly slammed down into the keys. You whimpered and started again, slower this time. Yoongi immediately slowed down with you. It took all of your strength and willpower to block him out, but soon you had reached the second to last note in the scale. You prepared to play the final note, but suddenly shot up from the bench when one of Yoongi’s fingers pushed inside of you, “Yoongi, fuck!”
He used his free hand to push you back down and hold you in place before inserting a second digit, making you writhe on the bench.
“Again. You almost had it that time.” he taunted you, and you could see his wicked smirk out of the corner of your eye.
He opted for just watching you this time as you started the scale again, but his hand didn’t cease its movements between your legs. His fingers plunged inside of you, crooking and twisting in a way that was nothing short of sinful. You had reached the last few notes again, you were so close. Yoongi’s thumb brushed over your neglected clit, and you yanked your hands down to your lap to keep from playing a wrong key as you nearly let out a sob.
“Oh, darling, you’re so close. Finish it.”
Your hands were shaking so violently now, but you still somehow managed to play the last few keys without any more errors. All the built up tension and pressure had you releasing all over Yoongi’s fingers as soon as your hands left the keys, and he hissed next to you.
Your body was still trembling in his hold, and you panted heavily as you struggled to regain your senses. Yoongi reached out with his clean hand to pull the cover back over the keys before withdrawing his other one from between your thighs. His coated fingers were slipping past your lips a moment later and pressing down on your tongue. You were still feeling hazy, but you sucked them clean without needing to be asked, Yoongi humming in approval.
He stood up from the bench a moment later, and reached down to lift you up and perch you on top of the piano, your head still spinning. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers digging in slightly. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee before slowly moving higher, the feeling of his wicked tongue making you grip onto the sides of the piano.
His fingers twisted into your waistband before pulling your panties down your legs and setting them on the bench next to him. Yoongi pushed your dress up to your hips to expose your dripping cunt, and his eyes blew out at the sight. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and you could see the desire, the hunger, pulsing through him. You clenched around nothing.
“Lay back for me, darling.” he instructed calmly.
Your heartbeat was deafening as your back met the wood underneath you. You let out a yelp when Yoongi wrapped his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the piano.
“Fuck. You have no idea how much I’ve been dying to taste you again.” he rasped out, and your fingers scratched against the wood.
He dove right in and started cleaning up your release, your back arching off of the piano as you gasped sharply. Yoongi ate you out messily, his grunts permeating the air while his face was buried in your cunt. The things he could do with his mouth, his tongue, had to be some kind of artform. A skill he had finely tuned much like his talent for the piano.
Your hands reached down to tangle in his long, fluffy hair as his tongue fucked into you. His nose kept bumping against your clit, making your nails scrape over his scalp.
“Oh my god, Yoongi.”
One of his hands snaked its way up your writhing body to roughly grab at your breast. Your body twisted on the wood when you felt his mouth suddenly envelop your bundle of nerves.
“Fuck. Fuck! Yoongi!” you cried out as he vigorously sucked at your clit, tongue flicking over the bud in quick strokes.
He always made you come undone with his mouth faster than anyone ever had, and today was no exception as you felt your high speeding towards you. His fingers dug into your skin harshly as he continued to eat your cunt like he was starving for you. You pulled hard against his dark strands, and Yoongi growled before grazing your clit with his teeth. Your desperate, breathy moans filled the air as you practically convulsed on top of the piano.
“Close…Yoon…” you panted out.
“Come for me, darling.” Yoongi coaxed, voice husky and dark, “Wanna feel you on my tongue.”
He nipped at your bud again, and you sobbed his name as you fell to pieces. Yoongi kept devouring your cunt until you were shivering in overstimulation and whimpering feebly. You felt him finally surface, and it took all your strength to even lift up your head to look at him.
His breathing was ragged, hair wild, chestnut irises nearly black, and his lips glistened with your release. You moaned softly as you watched his tongue swipe across his mouth to finish cleaning you off of his face. He looked absolutely wasted off of you.
“Always so fucking delicious. Could stay buried in your sweet little cunt all day.” he remarked, and you were caught off guard by how fucked out he sounded.
“I think I would die if you did.” you offered back weakly, making Yoongi laugh, his gums peeking out adorably.
“Alright, darling, watch out. I’m coming up there.” he said, and in your post orgasm haze you really thought he was joking.
But within a few swift movements, he had hoisted himself up and was hovering over your shocked figure.
“Wait, are you… You’re, you’re actually gonna fuck me on your piano?” you asked incredulously as you blinked up at him.
Yoongi shifted so you could feel just how hard he was as he brushed against you, “Wanna know a secret? It’s actually always been a fantasy of mine.”
You let out a small gasp as his admission washed over you.
“You mean, you’ve never done this? With anyone? Like ever?” you questioned further, genuinely feeling dumbfounded.
“Never.” Yoongi answered, flashing you a shy smile, “What do you say, darling? You wanna be my first?”
Your heart constricted in your chest at his choice of words. The fact that he wanted to share this first with you. That you would be the one to fulfill this fantasy for him. Warmth spread over your entire body.
“Yoongi Min, I would be honored to take your piano virginity.” you tried to say as seriously as you could manage, but as soon as Yoongi started chuckling, so did you.
“Please, taking you on my piano is my honor.” he voiced thoughtfully before leaning down to kiss you.
You immediately came to life beneath him, your hands finding their familiar home in his hair. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he devoured your mouth. Growing impatient, you made a grab for his pants. Yoongi smirked into the kiss as his hands joined yours to help free him from the confines of his clothes. He sat up momentarily to slip his white tee over his head and sweep his messy locks back from his face, top half bare except for the silver chain laying against his skin.
You shamelessly ogled his broad chest and defined muscles, your eyes trailing down his body to his achingly hard cock that bounced back up against his stomach.
“God,” you whispered as you reached for him, “you are so fucking hot.”
Yoongi flushed at the compliment, letting out a hiss when your eager hand wrapped around him a moment later.
“Like it’s seriously unfair.” you whined as you began giving him a few teasing pumps, and Yoongi groaned beautifully in response.
“What’s unfair is how unbelievably sexy you look right now. Fucked out on top of my piano, just waiting to be stuffed full of cock. Begging to be aren’t you, darling?”
God, he was so fucking hot when he was cocky. You needed him so bad, there was no point in delaying things any further. You released your hold on him and stretched your arms out above your head, inviting him with your eyes, “Do your worst, piano man.”
“Oh, I am going to wreck you.” he growled out before descending on you, and you let out a squeal as his body pressed down on you.
He intertwined his hands with your own, keeping them pinned above your head as his tip prodded at your entrance. He gave them a tight squeeze as he began pushing further past your walls, both of you moaning out at the sensation of feeling him inside you again. You arched into him at the stretch, and Yoongi placed a kiss on your shoulder.
“Always so tight, darling, fucking hell. You take my cock so well. Love fucking you open like this, feels so good.”
You preened at his praise, your head shooting up suddenly to connect your lips. Yoongi groaned into your mouth, finally bottoming out inside of you. Your legs came up to wrap around his waist as you kissed him furiously. Yoongi squeezed against your intertwined hands while he slowly drew back out before slamming all the back in with a harsh thrust that knocked all the air from your lungs. He quickly created a rhythm, driving his cock between your walls in swift, but powerful movements, your body sliding further up the piano with each stroke.
“Fuck…Yoongi.” you moaned brokenly as you lost the energy to keep kissing him.
He breathed hot air into your mouth as he continued fucking the life out of you. You held each other’s hands so tight it hurt, but it also served as an anchor to this moment and to each other. Yoongi grunted, hips snapping roughly with every thrust. Your head was starting to go fuzzy again, and you knew you wouldn’t last super long after he’d already pulled two orgasms from you today.
Yoongi released your hands suddenly, his fingers immediately snaking into your hair, tangling and pulling at the strands. Your hands latched onto his broad shoulders, and dug into his skin as he reached the deepest part of you again and again. Yoongi let out a snarl, “Fuck. You gonna scratch me up again today? Love when you leave your mark on me. A reminder of just how good I fuck you. Isn’t that right, darling?”
But you were beyond words, only able to respond with moans and whimpers as you clenched around him.
“Your perfect little cunt is squeezing me so tight, shit. You gonna come for me again, darling?”
Tears blurred your vision. Everything felt too good. Yoongi felt too good. His cock dragged inside of you at an agonizing pace, making you feel every inch of him. You bit down hard on Yoongi’s shoulder as your nails raked down his back, pulling a string of moans from him in response.
You felt one of his hands leave your hair and trail down the length of your body. His fingers strummed across your aching clit, and you let out a scream as everything inside of you snapped. Yoongi swore loudly as you came all over his cock, and he began fucking you with renewed vigor. You just held onto him for dear life, body shuddering, as he chased his own high.
He fisted your hair tightly in his free hand, groaning and panting as he continued rutting into you. His other hand gripped your hip hard enough to bruise, like he was holding onto you for dear life too. His thrusts began to stutter, and he leaned down to clumsily kiss you.
“Ah,” he moaned against your lips, “ah fuck.”
He twitched inside of you, and then he was coating your walls with his own release. Yoongi practically collapsed on top of you, his hair tickling your face as the two of you fought to catch your breath.
“Well…your fantasy…was it everything…you’d dreamed of?” you managed to ask, threading one of your hands through his fluffy locks.
You felt Yoongi smile against you, and your heart skipped in your chest.
“More…it was more. Reality topped fantasy…hands down. You topped fantasy.”
Your face warmed at his words, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Yoongi.
“I mean, technically…I actually bottomed fantasy.” you quipped back, and he nipped your neck in response, making you giggle wildly.
“Brat. I was trying to be sincere with you. I really like you, Y/N. And I hope we don’t always have to be a secret. I know you’re worried about everything with Faith, and I get it. But, at the risk of putting myself out there and sounding like an idiot, I want the day to come when I can be your boyfriend, and not just your little sister’s piano teacher that you fuck once a week. I want something real with you, and I want things to be okay between me, you, and Faith. Now would be a good time to tell me to shut up and stop wishing for a fantasy. That this is just sex, and that’s it. Just please, say something.”
You felt frozen beneath him, your tongue heavy in your mouth. One wrong word could shatter all of this. Or the right words, the true words, could be the start of something real and beautiful like Yoongi had said. He was laying so close to your heart, and the way it was rapidly pounding would probably end up giving you away anyway. He had taken the leap for you, and to you, Yoongi was more than worth the jump.
“Yoongi I, I’m falling for you. And it terrifies the hell out of me, but it also makes me feel excited, and hopeful. Being with you these last several weeks…it’s the best I’ve felt in a really long time. There definitely would have to be a conversation with Faith first, but I really want this, us, to be something real too. It’s not just sex for me anymore, and I don’t think it has been for awhile. I get butterflies when I think about seeing you. Not just fucking you. But seeing you and getting to be with you, even if it’s only for little bits at a time. Any time I can get is worth it to me, cause you’re worth it to me.”
You waited anxiously for his response, which came in the form of him covering your lips with his own, his hands coming up to cradle your face. It felt like the kiss at the piano earlier, only more sure, more confident. It was like you could feel everything that he felt for you, and you kissed him back, hoping that he could feel the same.
The two of you laid there for some time, just lazily tangled up in each other and in the fragile moment. Yoongi groaned loudly when you finally spoke up and mentioned that you should probably be heading back before Faith started to worry. He had the cutest pout on his face as he climbed down from the piano before holding out his hand to help guide you back to the floor.
“I can’t wait until you can finally just stay, and I can fall asleep next to you.” he voiced softly as he straightened his pants and retrieved his white tee from the floor.
“Me too.” you agreed, pushing up on your toes to kiss his cheek, and Yoongi immediately blushed.
“Hey, do you think I could hold onto this?” you added, gesturing at the shirt in his hands.
He gave you a gummy smile, “That’s not really keeping things a secret now is it, darling?”
“I’ll be careful with it. It’d just be nice to have a little piece of you with me.” you told him sweetly.
“Alright, it’s yours.” he said, tossing the shirt to you, “Can I keep these then? As something to remember you by.”
He bent down to pick up your panties from the floor and raised a mischievous eyebrow at you.
“Yoongi!” you exclaimed in shock, your cheeks burning.
“I’m kidding! Well, kind of.”
He flashed you a cheeky little smirk, and you shook your head at him, laughing.
“Well, if I just so happen to leave here without them, then I guess that really can’t be helped now can it?”
Yoongi hummed before stuffing the garment into his pocket.
“Yeah, guess not.” he agreed nonchalantly.
You felt your face heat once more, and you briefly turned your gaze to the piano, Yoongi’s eyes following yours.
“Shit!” he cursed suddenly, and worry immediately overtook you.
“What’s wrong?”
“It just occurred to me that I’ll never be able to play at this piano again without getting hard.”
You busted out laughing because you definitely had not been expecting that answer.
“Well, then, I guess you’ll just have to fuck me on every piano you own so that this one doesn’t feel singled out.” you quipped back as you gave him a knowing look.
Yoongi’s eyes were darkening immediately, “I think you better text your sister and let her know today’s lesson is running a little late.”
You grinned wickedly back at him, rising to the challenge.
“Whatever you say, piano man.”
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Text
Dirty Work 17
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: It's friday again.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Once Leslie leaves, you lock yourself away again. Your father's taken to the cold shoulder over his previous aggression. You don't mind, it assures you of a tenuous peace. So long as you don't draw his attention, you're okay.
Your anxiety remains piqued. Not only by your father's stewing ire but the thought of what looms both behind and ahead of you. With all that happened at work, you have little hope of tomorrow being better. There is also the question of Mr. Laufeyson's surprise... you can't even begin to guess what he has in mind.
Another test, no doubt. Like today. You're certain you failed that one too. You took his kindness and showed yourself to be ungrateful. You questioned him when you should have just accepted it with a smile on your face.
It is not your place to worry about his intentions, as he has made it clear, you are not on the same level. He is your boss and you do what he says. So you will do that and nothing more.
Is that his voice in your head?
You sneak out for a shower but it doesn't do much to calms your nerves. You spend another night tossing and turn, kept awake by the television set a top volume and the dissonance of your anxiety. Even with the extra hours granted, you find yourself painfully awake at the same splitting hour.
You get up to make your tea. Your father's snoring on the couch at the TV continues to blare. You don't disturb either as you put on the kettle and ready a mug. You rub your eyes and yawn. Leslie will be here soon. You should wake him and get breakfast going. It will lighten her load.
When you have your cup steaming, you stay at the counter and sip tentatively, weighing your next steps. You leave your father as he is and return to your room, dressing and cleaning up before you descend again. You have your phone in hand, almost hoping a notification will pop up. Maybe Mr. Laufeyson will change his mind and you can be off before you have to face your dad. The phone remains lifeless. 
You sigh and shut off the television, hoping the sudden silence might rouse him. He continues to snort loudly. You bite down on your cheeks as your skin buzzes and itches. He's not a morning person. 
The memories of him exploding to consciousness in a furor of hollers and kicks keep you from shaking him. You back away as the doorbell rings and does the job for you, your father grumbling as you go to answer it.
Leslie enters with her usual blustering brightness. She greets your father and stops short, hands on her hips as she tuts.
"Now what is the meaning of this?" She huffs, "Charles, you can't sleep down here."
"I'm not," he sits up and hacks into his hand before sliding the oxygen tube back into place. "You woke me up."
"What's gotten into you?" She accuses, "I told you yesterday I'm not here for your attitude. You're not some teenager, you're a grown man."
"Bah, I need coffee," he snarls.
"You need a cold shower," she retorts as she goes around the couch and snatches up the pack of smoke on the cushion beside him, "and a swat on the snout. What're you doing with these things?" She pauses and looks at you, "he can't be having these in the house."
"I don't... know where they came from," your murmur.
"Don't matter, if you see them, you toss them," she reproaches, "this is a team effort, alright? Now yesterday, this place was a right mess. I'm here to help, not play maid."
"I'm sorry, I..." you snap your mouth shut. You did clean up, as best you could before work, but you'll have to do better.
"Not her fault she's useless," your father quips.
"Charles," Leslie warns as she points at him.
"Sorry, hon," he puts his hands up, "was only a joke."
"Not a very nice one," he rebukes.
"I know, I know," he chortles.
"So don't apologise to me," she flicks her finger towards you.
Your father stops his laughing and quiets. He crosses his arms and slumps his shoulders as you stare at the back of his head. You wait as Leslie tilts her head dangerous and cross her arms.
"Charles," she girds.
"Don't worry about it," you croak, "it's fine. I'll... I'm going in late so I'll get breakfast started."
"Oh yeah, she don't gotta go polish that man's silver early," your dad growls.
"Charles," Leslie snips again, "I mean it, be nice."
"I am nice, hon, I'm being funny."
"You are not," she insists.
"Come on, Les," he lowers his voice as you pad towards the kitchen, "I'll be good, alright? Don't give me that look."
She sighs but you don't look back, "alright, no more smokes."
"I'm tellin' ya, honey," he speaks so softly you barely recognise his voice, "I didn't touch 'em. Found them in the couch but I didn't smoke any. Don't be mad at me."
You shake your head and try to roll the tension out of your shoulders. She's been here just over a week and he talks like he's known her forever. He's actually nice to her. He cares about what she thinks, what she feels. But you, his own daughter, you get the blame for it all. You're the reason he hates himself and his life. Maybe if you'd never come along, he'd still have the woman he loved. 
🧹
You set off just after eleven, the bus due not long after. As you come down the overgrown walk with its cracked pavement and uneven tilt, your eyes are drawn up by the snap of a car door. Footfalls scuff on the pavement as you look over the curb to the shiny car parked there. It's an unusual sight in the rundown neighbourhood.
Mr. Laufeyson proudly steps up as the window on the passenger's side rolls down. A pair of similarly green eyes peer out as she takes in the sight of the yellow duplex. You want to run and hide. You can't imagine either of them ever had to dirty themselves in a place like this.
"Mr. Laufeyson," you rush towards him, "I--- you said noon."
You pull the phone out and check the time. He puts his hand on the roof of the car calmly as you stop a few feet away. He chuckles, amused by your panic.
"It's so quaint," Frigga remarks as she remains firmly in the front seat, "dear, how are you?"
"Um, I'm well, Frigga," you answer with a tight gulp.
"Good, good, you look well," she praises, "a bit tired. Tell me he's not overworking you."
"Mother," Laufeyson shoots a glance in her direction.
"Er, it's fine," you clutch the strap of your bag, "I... did I do something?"
"No, no," Frigga waves off your suspicion, "I simply insisted my son bring me to see you while I'm in town."
"Oh, I was just on my way..." you look at Laufeyson confused as he gives an expression you can't quite read. He's expecting something but you're not sure what.
"We have lots to do so no sense in waiting around," she trills.
"Oh?" Your lips part. "Did something-- is the house okay?"
"The house is just fine. That old place only needs a little light, but see if my own son hears me," he rambles, "Loki, don't be rude, get the door."
He flinches and drags his hand away from the top of the car, "yes, mother."
He moves to open the back door, gallantly opening it for you. You feel like you've been dropped into an alternate universe. This can't be happening.
"Get in," he says. 
You blink at him and he tilts his head, gesturing to the back seat. You obey with some reluctance and sit the large leather bag beside you. You slowly pull the seat belt down and click it into place. Laufeyson strides around the bumper as you peek in the mirror at Frigga's silvering curls.
"Right, then," Laufeyson opens the driver's door and lowers himself into the seat, "there we are."
"How are you feeling, darling?" Frigga's eyes meet yours in the rearview before you quickly look away, "are you very hungry or can you wait a bit longer for lunch?"
"I... Lunch? I'm okay," you assure. You can't figure this out. "Thank you."
The car whirs and rolls into motion. You're uneasy as you watch the street pass by. If he takes a left, he can get back to the main roads and-- no, he's going right?
"Mm, alright, the boutique first then," she orders her son, "I'm wondering if perhaps they could squeeze us in at the spa. It has been a while since I had some clay done. Oh, and my nails are ragged."
You try to connect the dots as your brows stitch together. Is this his surprise? His mother? Why are you there? You should be figuring out what's going on with the squeaky hinge on the closet. 
"I can't wait to see the new season's colours," Frigga carries on as you tune her out, lost in the riddle of her presence and your own.
Surely, you're being brought along as some sort of valet. Of course, Laufeyson would offer you to carry her bags as she splurges on her pretty dresses. And she is always dressed so nicely whenever you see her. And make up, her lips are a pleasant shade of rose. She would likely spend even more on shoes, don't forget the silver sparkling at her throat and the gemstone dangling there... 
Right, you see. Another lesson. He wants you to remember what you don't have. After your slip-up yesterday, he has to remind you of where you belong; squashed under his sole.
"Oh, is Eliana still at the salon, I should stop in and say hello," Frigga's voice once more punctures your distraction. "She was always so sweet."
"Mother, I... don't know about that. Maybe a different salon."
"You are such a pessimist, what are the odds we run into her?" 
"Don't even tempt fate," he warns.
"No one said you were invited, hm? You said you had business down at Heimdall's."
"You are stubborn, mother," Laufeyson tisks.
"It's where you got it from, dear," she taunts, "so, darling," she peeks in the mirror again and you shy away, "how about it, you and I? It will be so nice. I haven't gotten a day out in so long."
"Oh, you haven't? Should I ask father about that?"
"Let's not mention your father," she rebuffs him smoothly and his shoulders slump.
"Um, well, that's nice, but..." you protest meekly
"It's my treat," she insists, "please. You're doing me a favour."
"I really don't know--"
"I don't mind," Laufeyson interjects, "and it won't affect your hours."
"I did soften him up a bit," she purrs.
"Mother," he hisses again.
"Oh you are so serious," she chides, "she needs this more than I do, I'm sure, with a stickler like you."
He twitches but says nothing. You sense he wants to say it again, 'mother', in the tone of please be quiet. It would be laughable if you weren't so perplexed by it all. Maybe it is a dream. Maybe you didn't wake up and you're oversleeping your alarm, having stress dreams about what will happen when you wake to reality.
"He's a good little chauffeur," she pats his arm playfully, "so he will drop us at the salon, won't you, dearest son?"
He grips the wheel tight and you see his knuckles turn almost translucent, "yes, mother, whatever you wish."
🧹
Mr, Laufeyson drives through the downtown area. You don't come there much, or at all. You passed through on your way to the hospital and on occasion to sort out a billing issue with the bank, but there wasn't much for you there. Along the west side, the nicer shops reside and several buildings with businesses you could never figure out.
Laufeyson pulls up into a marked spot beside a meter. As you stare out, still puzzled by it all. Everything's going so fast and you just want it to slow down. You look at your boss and feel a pang in your chest; how many times had he mentioned your clothes? This isn't a favour, this is him saying you're not good enough.
"Come, come," Frigga gets out and opens your door for you, "let's not drag our feet."
You undo the seat belt and go to grab your large leather bag. As you get out, Frigga catches you by the shoulders. "You won't need this," she takes the bag and reaches past you to put it back in the car, "only your pretty self."
"Oh, uh, sure, okay," you look again at Laufeyson but you're not sure why. He isn't going to help you. He's plunged you into this situation. He only arches a brow in response.
"Just going to give you a nice refresh," Frigga pulls on your elbow and shuts the door, tugging you onto the pavement. "You would do wonderful with some highlights."
You stumble along beside her, overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. She directs you to the shining transparent windows of a salon, a sign overhead with a curled iron bar across the top. You peek over your shoulder again as Mr. Laufeyson lingers another moment before steering out into traffic.
The door chirps as it opens and you're ushered inside to the sound of jazzy pop covers. You can't choose where to focus as the sleek shelves of colourful bottle behind the pure white counter refracts the lights of a spindly chandelier. Velvet chairs are arranged around a table in the little waiting area as stylists gab with clients in chairs.
"Frigga," a woman with platinum locks flutters over with the clacking of heels, "oh, it's been so long."
"Eliana! It has, look at you," they embrace and part, Frigga playing with the tall woman's pin-straight tresses, "what happened to the black?"
"Got a few grays and a divorce," the woman, Eliana you presume, cackles, "and who's this?"
They look at you as you're ready to fade into the black and white stripes on the wall.
"Oh, a friend, she's lovely," Frigga comes back and takes your hand, drawing you forward, "she just needs a little touch-up."
"Oh, she's a natural, she won't need much at all," the stylist approaches you, "I know just the woman; Luciana," she claps and looks back, "I have someone to fill in that cancellation.”
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