#there was just so much /story/ beneath that scene for me and it was so fun to write | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup · 6 months

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Hey there! As always, I have Sea Glass Gardens on the brain, and I was wondering if there are any moments or details you've written that you really like, but people haven't noticed/pointed out yet? Or that they have, but you still have a lot of thoughts on. (this is free license to ramble about anything you want!)

I think I probably would have to say the Maki/Tsumiki confrontation in chapter 5.

Writing that was really fun because it was like an iceberg to me. There was so much buried in both of them that just sort of lingered outside where Yuuta could see.

I have a sort of love hate relationship with limited povs. On one hand, I love making up lore for shit. I love having a bunch of silly little details that don’t exactly feed into the story but build the world.

(As a total aside, I wrote pez dispenser debris while in a burnout fueled feverish haze while studying for the bar exam and 90% of what enthralled me with it was giving myself permission to just fucking. Let loose on cramming in all the little backstories. It was my fun silly story I was allowed to make technical mistakes on just to make something that made me happy. It was like splatter paint art to me. Probably half of that fic is scenes that are completely irrelevant to the plot or but that was the fun of it).

On the other hand, I love having to sort of climb around inside a story that has the inherently skewed view that comes from having a limited POV. It feels like stained glass in my head. I don’t know how to explain it better. The entire story is just colored by the glass of the character perspective. It makes for a very pretty and fractured story, even if it comes at the cost of a lot of the background.

Whenever I’m working with limited POV, I just sort of bury details that I feel like it would make me go nuts if I saw it.

A lot of my fic writing is just sort of playing connect the dots with stuff canon leaves behind? A lot of the conflict in sea glass gardens comes from one line in the second Toji v Gojo throw down. Gojo has some throw away line about how the good thing about inheriting a technique was that you got a playbook, but the bad thing was that so did everyone else. Toji was Zenin, so he knew Gojo’s technique, but the gojo clan had kept hollow purple as a carefully guarded secret.

That led to:

The initial conflict, with Megumi having partial custody with the Zenin. If clans have secrets they keep with their techniques, then it’s a tactical disadvantage to not have access to that information. It’s a huge selling point for letting the Zenin have partial custody. It’s an actual advantage the Zenin could give him.

The primary conflict, which is that the Zenin are keeping secrets around megumis technique which means 1) that they don’t know what the Zenin did to megumi 2) why they did it or 3) how to fix it.

The fact that gojos teaching megumi from the gojo playbook on his technique, which is incomplete, which lends to his own lack of understanding of the capacity of his own technique.

Some of Maki’s uncertainty around her own clan’s technique. When talking with gojo, she seemed uncertain of whether some of the details were legend or fact. She’s mentioned before that she only knows the basics, and everything else is kept in a guarded book that only the ten shadows and the clan head can access. She didn’t know what Megumi’s domain expansion would manifest as, if he was able to use it at all, and seemed surprised to know gojo knew the details. The clans are keeping secrets from their own members about these techniques to maintain tactical advantages the way the gojo did with hollow purple.

A lot of the underlying atmospheric tension around Megumi’s adoption and the motive that everyone else has read into it. Taking Megumi in childhood allows Gojo to 1) cut off the user of the Zenin clan’s most powerful technique from his knowledge base and 2) observe his technique as it develops and get a chance to uncover its secrets. He’s seemingly crippling megumis knowledge around his own abilities while cementing the gojo’s understanding of it. Of course no one thinks it was a genuine adoption. It has all the makings of a tactical move.

The future difficulty in resolving the conflict. It’s not as simple as “well at the end of the day no one wants megumi dead, just tell Shoko how to fix this.” The clans gain a discernible tactical advantage from keeping secrets from each other. They aren’t going to give up secrets if they think it’s going to go straight into the Gojo clan archives. Especially considering he’s already got unprecedented access to information on the ten shadows simply by watching megumi grow up.

A few other plot points we haven’t gotten to yet so I won’t discuss them.

It’s stuff like that. A lot of my fanfic is just kicking around what canon already gives and having fun with it. So I like just implanting the details that I know I’d have fun playing with, and tsumiki and maki’s conversation was loaded with that.

A lot of the conflict in Tsumiki and Maki's conversation is sourced in the fact that they start it off playing an unknowing game of verbal whackamole. They keep stumbling straight into each other's biggest insecurities and touchy points and not realizing it.

To start off, they both have pretty ample reason to be off kilter and high on emotion. Maki was picked up out of a pool of her own blood a couple days ago. Out of all of them, it was only her and Yuuta that Geto was actually going to kill. Geto himself said that Gojo knew he wouldn't have killed Inumaki and Panda, and that Gojo sent them to set off Yuuta. But maki was the monkey. She was wounded the worst. And she was the only one who fought Geto alone. She's still shaken and doesn't want to admit it.

Tsumiki, meanwhile, has been on the brink for days. The last time she saw her family, she was being told by gojo that a genocial maniac that wants her specific demographic dead had just declared war. Then, her fourteen year old brother disappeared. She then immediately lost contact with every single person in her life and social network.

Is Megumi dead? Did he do exactly what she thought he was going to do and camp outside her school to watch for genocidal cultists? Did he get himself killed because she wouldn't skip school? What about everyone else? Are they okay? Why has she lost contact with her entire family?

She didn't have any working phone numbers. She didn't have any way of finding them. It's directly stated in canon that Tengen's barriers are directed to deterring and concealing it from non-sorcerers, so she's not even sure if she'll be able to get into the school without Megumi or Gojo. And then all of her worst fears were confirmed, and Megumi was actively bleeding out and visibly terrified when she finally got him back. He just died in front of her. She had to personally pump his heart to try and get him back.

As a result, they've both got a shorter fuse and are a little bit more reactive than they'd normally be going into the conversation.

So of course the absolute first thing they do is ram straight into sensitive points.

Maki is the first one to do it. She calls Megumi the "Ten Shadows" instead of his name. And that sets off Tsumiki, who is willing to rip out throats over this at the best of times, and who is sitting there with her brother's blood still on her.

The thing is, Maki genuinely meant no wrong by it. It's just what they always call him in the clan. She didn't know he hated it. She barely remembered him, and the clan leadership wasn't exactly advertising how much megumi hated everything they did. And it had never had a negative connotation for her growing up--fuck, it was the biggest term of respect you could get from her shithole family.

Except Tsumiki didn't have the context of "it's basically a title and also a bigger honor than Clan Head." All she knew was 1) that they refused to call Megumi anything else 2) no one else was called by their technique instead of their name and 3) (to her knowledge) there's nothing special about being the Ten Shadows that would cast this in a more positive light. I've discussed this in another post, but Megumi thinks of being called the Ten Shadows like being called "Excel spreadsheet" by a boss who hired you for being microsoft proficient. To his knowledge, the Zenin bought him because he was a sorcerer who inherited a technique, and there's nothing deeper to it. They're just calling him that to constantly throw in his face that he's just a technique to them.

And Tsumiki knows her brother well enough to be able to say when something legitimately got under his skin. This was dehumanizing. It was another way the Zenin abused him. Without the context of "it's an ancient honor in my clan to be called that," she thought that a member of the family that abused her little brother didn't even have the decency to lay off now, when he's still struggling to keep his heart beating in his chest.

Of course, she didn't realize the mere fact that pointing out that Maki was Zenin and looked Zenin was a sore spot, because she had always sort of worried she'd never escape being the Zenin clan reject when everyone can see the Zenin in her appearance.

What Tsumiki doesn't know is a huge driving source of the continued misunderstandings in the dialogue--namely, the fact that she doesn't know the true importance of the Ten Shadows technique to the Zenin clan. But I tried to imply throughout that she had really, really good reason to think that she did.

I feel like it's a trope to sort of have the non-magic/superpowered member of the family to be sort of clueless about the inner workings of the magic world or whatever, but I didn't want that for Tsumiki. It didn't fit with the version living in my head. This a world her brother's hurtling towards joining fully. It's her family's world. She doesn't want to be locked out of it.

And the thing is? She exhibits a pretty good command over knowledge of the jujutsu world--and, specifically, the Zenin clan. She had glasses imbued with cursed energy like Maki's. She knew enough about cursed energy to come up with a theory about why Megumi seized--and Shoko later confirmed that she was probably right.

I also tried to have her display understanding of Zenin custom and action that an outsider wouldn't have.

She knows enough about them to know that they're a tradition-obsessed, ancestor-obsessed group of weirdos obsessed with maintaining lineage. She knows they prefer inherited techniques. She knows they've got a pretty large population size. She even knows that they practice incest, because she takes a crack at Maki with it and calls them inbred.

And that's one of the details that I think can be really fun to play with, as a reader-- why does she know that? Yuuta's been living fully in the jujutsu world for months, and he doesn't know that. That's a really random, specific detail to know about a family she doesn't spend any personal time with. How did Tsumiki learn about it?

Did someone bitch about it one day and she found out about it in passing? Or was there a deeper story behind why she learned that? It was meant to sort of dovetail with something Maki said later in the same conversation--Gojo had kept the Zenin from marrying Megumi off. Not "Your brother's a literal child and too young to be married, no one would have even considered it"--no, she was relying solely on the fact that Gojo was protecting Megumi, which implies that the Zenin would have at least considered it.

And it's one of those things where there's no single "correct" meaning to it. It's open to a lot of reader interpretation and it makes it fun to play with. Maybe she did only learn about it in passing, and the two comments were unrelated. Or maybe the Zenin already broached the topic of when Megumi would be procreating and with which of his cousins, and Tsumiki found out from that.

The Zenin are bloodline obsessed, and I personally headcanon that all major sorcerer clans are because their techniques are basically trade secrets to them. They're specific to each clan and they are practically the currency their world runs on. If a member of the Gojo clan runs off and marries someone from the Kamo clan and joins the Kamo in the process, and their child is born with the six eyes and limitless, they've basically lost their most valuable asset to their rival. If someone leaves the clan and that child is born with, say, the most powerful technique in their bloodline--well, then you've basically set your most valuable asset off into the crapshoot that is the wider world's genetic lottery.

Say Megumi stays outside the clan, has a kid with someone not affiliated with any clan, and keeps that kid outside the clan. That kid has a kid. That kid has three kids. Those three kids have eleven kids total. So on and so forth, until a few centuries have passed and the ten shadows is being inherited again and there's some random nobody out there from a family who doesn't even remember having jujutsu sorcery in their bloodline but who is, technically, of Zenin blood, and descended from the last ten shadows. What happens if they get it?

Megumi's proof of concept--call it fate, call it destiny, call it random chance, but his existence suggests that whatever designates who's going to inherit the shadows next doesn't care about actual clan membership. Megumi has Zenin blood, but he had no contact whatsoever with his family before this. The Ten shadows technique is something that can be lost.

Yuuta, too, is oddly a proof of concept as well, now that the jujutsu world knows he exists. He's a random descendant from a major sorcerer line, connected distantly to the Gojo clan no less, so far attenuated that there's no one in his family that even remembers their connection. But he's one of the most powerful people on the planet. The Ten Shadows could be inherited by a distant, attenuated member of the Zenin line.

I included those lines as a detail that really could be stretched as far as the reader wanted to take it. Maybe it doesn't mean anything of importance. Maybe it means that the Zenin tried to negotiate some kind of advance rights to any kids that Megumi had. Maybe it means they took it farther, and tried to negotiate for an arranged marriage and a schedule for when he'd be expected to reproduce. his bloodlines important to maintain, after all. Maybe it was something else entirely.

Tsumiki also has a laundry list of examples that suggests she's had a front row seat to them disrespecting Megumi's boundaries over the years. They kept trying to take custody. They tried to force him to change his name. They did something so terrible to him when they had visitation that he wanted to go no contact. She's got a body of experiences eating at her that make her view the Zenin as a threat that megumi needs to be protected from, and he needs protection now more than ever, which is a lot of what feeds the tension behind the discussion with Maki.

With all of that knowledge in mind, Tsumiki has great reason to think she knows what she's talking about when it comes to Megumi and the Zenin clan. Like, this isn't her talking out her ass or condescending to people who know better--she has more reason to think she knows what's going on with the Zenin than Maki. Maki actually grew up with the clan, but Tsumiki grew up with Megumi. She knows this world. she knows what the zenin are like. And unlike Maki, she actually knows what the Zenin did to him all those years ago. The only thing she doesn't know is what Gojo purposefully hid from her, which is the truth of what the Ten Shadows really is.

And it's pretty reasonable to think that your guardian would have mentioned "by the way megumi is like magic jesus reborn to his psychotic relatives" at least once in ten years, right? Like Tsumiki isn't a character who knows nothing and just talks down to someone actually in the loop--she's a character who's spent the past decade of her life in the loop, who exhibits independent knowledge of the facts, and who has every reason to think she knows all the relevant information, being blindsided by a very important detail that gojo didn't even tell Megumi. Even Maki initially assumed that Tsumiki had the information and was blindsided by the fact that she didn't. And it's that gap in knowledge that sows the seeds of their initial conflict--and eventually brought them together.

For the first part of the conversation, I really wanted a lot of the conflict to be actually "they're having two different conversations and neither are technically wrong."

Maki's conversation was centered around what the Zenin would do. She was talking about how they're absolutely obsessed with Megumi and will never give up. And that fits within her world of experience, that's what she knows--she's not wrong about anything she says.

But Tsumiki's talking about Megumi, who's in her realm of experience, and she's saying that Megumi's never gonna want to be in their family Christmas card. Neither are wrong. Maki is totally correct in saying that the Zenin aren't just going to give up and wait for another Ten Shadows to be born. But Tsumiki wasn't saying that they would--she was saying that Megumi was never going to love them or want to be with them. The misunderstanding isn't in what either are saying, it's what the actual conversation is about.

The next time they accidentally ram into each other's sore points is when Maki says Tsumiki's the reason why he refused to join the clan.

Tsumiki's the unwanted kid in the world's most aggressive custody battle. She remembers the Zenin and Gojo were at each other's throats over custody, but nobody was fighting over her. It was her brother who the Zenin wanted. And we know from her later conversations with Yuuta that the Zenin have gone so far as offered to have her boarded at a school on the other side of the planet to get her away from Megumi.

"You're the reason why Megumi won't be with his family" was an accusation that was constantly lobbed at her as a kid. The Zenin fully blamed her for Megumi not coming near them (when they weren't blaming gojo), and I imagine Tsumiki was always very defensive about it. Because the thing is, at her core, she could have been completely uninvolved and megumi would want nothing to do with them. They were fucking insane. why would he ever want to be near them?

Tsumiki was a very little girl who was all alone in the world, and then she had her megumi, and she finally had a real family. And he was all alone too. They got to save each other. They got to give each other someone in the world to hold onto. They were each other's safe harbors and lighthouses and there was no one in the world who took care of her brother before she did.

It was incredibly hard for her to learn that there was this clan of people who had money and power and actual blood tying them to him, and they wanted to take him and leave her behind. Giving him a family was something she counted as almost a source of pride, and suddenly she was turned on her head and the selfish brat keeping him from having a family.

She didn't want to be alone again. She didn't want to let him go. And she spent a long time thinking she was selfish and just keeping him from having more family, until they found out just how bad the zenin were.

It's also an unfair accusation to say that Tsumiki's trying to keep Megumi from his family. The second she finds out that Maki left the Zenin clan, she tries to get her to form a familial relationship with Megumi. She wants megumi to have other family than her--and then Maki immediately hit back with "oh so you're the reason he's not with his family." It was like a slap in the face.

Except Maki didn't mean it like "so you're the one who took him from the clan the way the rest of the Zenin did, she meant it like "so you're the one who saved him from the clan."

Maki didn't even know Tsumiki existed. The clan leadership wasn't advertising that the ten shadows picked his non-sorcerer step sister over them. The entire jujutsu world thinks that Gojo snatched him away as a child, borderline brainwashed him to keep him from joining his clan and realizing his true power, and did it all as a power play against his enemies.

Except Maki's spent the last year with Gojo. And she's been wondering what the fuck actually happened, because what everyone says about him didn't match up at all with the man who welcomed her with open arms and who had done nothing but support her and the other students. He was fucking annoying, but he wasn't someone who seemed like he would do what people said he did all those years ago.

Every single time she thought about truly trusting Gojo for this past year, she thought about Megumi. She thought about the little boy who never had any time to play but still found the time to protect her sister. She thought about how they played together and how Megumi said they could be friends when Mai begged him and how they all got beat like hell for it, but it still made Mai happier than she had been in a long time.

Megumi was safer wherever the zenin weren't, but Gojo wasn't supposed to be doing it to protect Megumi. He supposedly had been manipulating Megumi for the past decade, keeping him weak and under his thumb so he could be a pet on a leash that Gojo could parade around.

She didn't want to believe that Gojo would do that to megumi. But she also didn't want to fall for someone who was just manipulating her. If he had really done that to Megumi, she wasn't ever going to trust or forgive him.

Tsumiki's existence made it all click for her.

Tsumiki would have never, ever been safe in the Zenin clan. Maki knows what it means to not be safe there, to have a sibling who isn't safe there, to watch them suffer underneath her family's thumb. If megumi had a sister he didn't want to be separated from, a sister who couldn't ever be near her family safely, then what Gojo did wasn't a powerplay--it was a rescue. He was keeping the ten shadows with a sister he could never stay with otherwise. Tsumiki is the reason why Megumi refused to join the clan, and the reason why Gojo helped him do it. It actually was Megumi's genuine refusal all this time. Maki wasn't blaming her--she was just struck by the fact that she really, genuinely could trust Gojo all this time. that it hadn't been a power play--Gojo was just saving Megumi and Tsumiki the way no one saved her and Mai.

Of course, Tsumiki didn't know any of that. She only knew the Zenin clan that had blamed her for years. So she didn't understand that Maki was saying it out of relief, not anger.

To shift a bit farther in the conversation, in my mind, the reason why Tsumiki got in a blow out fight with Megumi about going to school is because she wants him to have a life outside of the jujutsu world.

The jujutsu world purposefully tries to take away options from you as a manner of control. That was a big part of Yuuta's conversation with the higher ups--they didn't want him doing anything that could give him options outside of jujutsu sorcery. The terms of his binding vow were ludicrously strict about how he spent his time and education. And Tsumiki has actually seen this first hand, because she watched how the higher ups went after the teen parenting squad during their adoption.

She cares if Megumi goes to school because she desperately wants him to have the option to one day leave the jujutsu world. The higher ups and the Zenin don't even want him to have a modern middle school education--if they had their way, he'd be in full time jujutsu training, and she knows that because she and megumi were both in the loop when Gojo was fighting them over it.

Megumi's going to be going to high school soon. That means he's going to lose his main connection to a world outside of jujutsu sorcery. She wants him to have friends. She wants him to go to school and have favorite subjects and hobbies and passions. She wants him to have ties other than a profession that eats its workers alive. Megumi leaving middle school is a ticking time bomb in her mind--she didn't want him to lose a single day of normal life, especially not for her sake. The fact that he's in this stupid deal to work off his debt to the school as a sorcerer for her sake has been eating her alive for years. She just wanted him to go to school and have another day of being a normal kid.

She regrets it, later. If he has to be in this world, she wants to be in it with him. She wishes she was with him when the Zenin came.

For the most part, I'm not going to discuss the undertones of the conversation about the phone, because we actually will get into that in the fic. But the last part in the story she tells about her and megumi as kids, about how she had to hold on tight to his hand as a child because he would always try to wiggle free and she would lose him if he did? That's supposed to be their entire relationship dynamic in this: Megumi keeps trying to wiggle free, and she keeps trying to hang on to him as tightly as she can.

There's a lot of little "iceberg" details after that in quick succession.

(And, to be clear, I don't consider these details explicit or "canon" within the fic itself. It's a bit like method acting, I guess?

Yuuta finding out every single detail isn't realistic. It would drown the fic in way too much detail and be a little off if he found out that much. But having this sort of hidden base in what the character's experiences and desires and motives are helps me write them more consistently throughout, and it enhances my own understanding of the story. Yuuta will never find out that Tsumiki got in the fight with Megumi because she wanted him to have a life outside of jujutsu sorcery, but it can feed into her actions throughout the story if I understand that. Only the tip of the iceberg is visible, but the rest is still beneath the surface and affecting the flow of the story's currents. But, since it isn't explicit, members of the audience are free to have their own interpretations and experiences with the art and it makes the art much more changeable? I like the idea that no story is the same for any two people. What I read as their motives doesn't necessarily have to be everyone's reading. It's a different story through the lens of every person. I dunno. It's just cool to me.)

Some of the iceberg details that follow in the conversation, in short form:

Megumi kept trying to take off the kimono when Tsumiki found him because he was convinced he was dying and didn't want to die in the clothes the Zenin dressed him in

I talked about this in another post so I won't break it down in detail here, but when Maki's talking about how her father used to always take her to see the ten shadows kimono, it's because he wanted her to inherit the technique, once upon a time. The clan had been waiting for the Ten Shadows technique to return to the bloodline since Gojo was born. Her father was important in the clan, close to the clan head, from a powerful bloodline, and she was only a year older than Megumi. In my mind, the Ten shadows is the antithesis of the Six eyes and Limitless, so while you can clock the six eyes from birth, the Ten Shadows is notoriously hard to spot until they summon the dogs. Maki went from the clan's biggest hope to its biggest shame, and the Ten Shadows is a source of a lot of bitter memories. It wasn't until she saw the state of Megumi that night that she fully appreciated how lucky she was to not get the technique.

Then, the conversation takes a total tonal shift, and it's the definitive shift in Maki and Tsumiki's relationship. Because it's when Maki overrides Nanami to tell Tsumiki the full truth of her brother's technique.

Tsumiki has rapidly become a slightly painful person for Maki in the span of this conversation, because she's maki's foil, and Maki is realizing that. Maki had to let go of Mai to become who she is today. that was one of the hardest choices of her life, but she had to do it. The Zenin would have killed her if she stayed. She knew how big she could grow if she just had the space to do it.

Tsumiki is someone who's braving her family to not let go of her sibling. She made the opposite decision as maki, and Maki knows that, and she respects the shit out of Tsumiki for it. Telling Tsumiki the truth of the ten shadows is both a sign of respect for her and an acknowledgement of her as her brother's protector. Tsumiki can't help her brother fully if she doesn't know what the hell is going on. Maki's trying to arm her so she can keep making the decision that Maki didn't, because she knows just how painful her family is going to make this for them all. They didn't even care about Maki, but they still destroyed mai when she left. Megumi? He's the most valuable person in the world to them. They'll make everyone bleed. And she thinks Tsumiki deserves to know that if she's going to stay by megumi's side.

The last little iceberg moment is Tsumiki tearing the robe. And that was meant to be a reflection of tsumiki's entire outlook on life.

At the end of the day, Tsumiki is someone I've decided is selective about what she cares about. I've talked about it more in other posts, but I don't see Tsumiki's entire "I'd rather think about the people I love than curse people" schtick as a sign she's a perfect good person who doesn't succumb to bad thoughts--I read it more as she's someone who knows she only has so much she can devote her time and energy to. Tsumiki has very specific priorities that she will actually devote labor towards, and Megumi is her biggest. She doesn't get tangled up in things like appearances, or blood, or tradition, or politics, or revenge--she has the people she won't let go of, and she will let go of absolutely everything else.

The kimono is symbolic of centuries of tradition and a borderline religious obsession for the Zenin. Megumi himself is secondary to what the Ten Shadows represents, and the Zenin show that by disregarding his desires and safety again and again for the sake of their traditions around his technique. Tsumiki figuratively (and literally) tears through that because Megumi himself is paramount to her. It's an irreplaceable, priceless, centuries-old heirloom to the zenin. Most people would be wary of damaging it even if they didn't have any personal attachment to it, but Tsumiki just fucking rips it, because it legitimately means nothing to her.

She doesn't care if Megumi's borderline a figure of legend to them. He's her little brother. So they can wait another five hundred years for the next ten shadows. And they can get a new fucking robe.

#sea glass gardens #this was such a fun ask thank you for sending it #i love tsumiki soooo much #there was just so much /story/ beneath that scene for me and it was so fun to write #also maki and tsumiki went from enemies to the the most attractive people possible for the other in record time #maki because she was completely honest with tsumiki and tsumiki finds that hot #tsumiki because she fucked up the zenin's priceless heirloom and that is the most attractive thing maki has seen in her entire life #she stopped breathing a little when it happened #how long is a respectful time to wait after someone's brother dies in their arms to shoot your shot #does the fact that he got better change the time requirement

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forbidden-sunlight · 2 months

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yandere!ceo with villainess!reader scenario [part one]

warnings: suicide attempt/implication, implication of obsessive thoughts or love, workplace toxicity.

There might be potential triggers in this piece. If you do not feel comfortable with reading it, please hit the 'back' button on your phone or laptop and find something much more pleasant to read than a potential series of unfortunate events.

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Reblog to support content creators! ❤️

Hey guys, and welcome to another original yandere oc x series, featuring the good-looking prick and CEO of his family's conglomerate, Yeo Jung-Hwa. This is a collaboration between me and the incredibly talented @deathmetalunicorn1. Special thanks to @pinkgoldweebgirl and @witch-of-the-writing-desk for their honest feedback on the earlier drafts of this project.

Part Two

Part Three

Everyone has heard or watched the famous daily drama, Love and Fortune. Boasting over 124 episodes, it chronicles the romance between a cold-hearted CEO named Yeo Jung-Hwa and a hardworking, kind-hearted employee at his family’s conglomerate named Hyeong Mun-Hee. Of course, no drama is without conflict because that would be a very boring story to broadcast to the world.

Including the male lead’s family opposing the idea that would marry someone beneath his social status, the villainous Park Seo-yun refuses to break off her engagement to him even when her feelings are completely one-sided. In retrospect, Park Seo-yun had been written as a vicious and incredibly stupid antagonist so that Heyong Mun-Hee’s perseverance through such bullying and her devotion towards Yeo Jung-Hwa were highlighted and touched the viewers with her kind heart. At least that is what you believe after being trapped in the world of this drama for…how long has it been? A year? Three years?

It was hard to keep track of time when Being X - that’s the name you gave to whatever is controlling this world like a goddamned puppeteer - would reset everything if you tried to act out of character such as amiably breaking up with male lead so he could be with Hyeong Mun-Hee or trying to overdose on sleeping meds in a desperate attempt to escape. Presently this was your fourth loop, and you were not going to let everything, the hard work you’ve put in, to be all for nothing.

You were going to move forward.

You were going to survive.

You were going to have a peaceful life once this drama is over.

Just say your lines and be ready for the next scene. Right?

According to the drama’s script, the reason that Park Seo-yun worked for the Yeo family’s conglomerate is because everyone thought it would be a brilliant idea for her to see how the business of her future in-laws operated and be prepared to step in if Yeo Jung-Hwa was incapacitated for any reason. In your humble opinion, it is honestly a bad idea for two reasons. One, it isn’t wise to mix business with a marriage, let alone an engagement that is written to be destroyed upon the arrival of the female lead. Two, it just doesn't make sense. Prosperous businesses are supposed to have a qualified Chief Operating Officer, otherwise known as a COO, to implement plans and the direction that the CEO wishes to follow as well as coordinating with other team managers.

But this is common sense from the real world. You are stuck in a drama and currently the team manager of the conglomerate’s financial department. You might have a nice office in the back where you can see everything, but it barely alleviated your annoyance with Hyung Mun-Hee as she hunched over her desk, texting on her personal phone instead of correcting the mistakes she made on the documents you were supposed to hand out to everyone at today’s meeting; budget allocations, projected growths and downturns, including whether Team Leader Kim Dokja will be able to hire a few more employees that he really needs to help with the IT department’s neverending workflow.

You know that this is a pivotal scene in both Heyong Mun-Hee’s character development and the beginning of your downfall. You know that after accusing the female lead of slacking off, forcing her to kneel and apologize for paralyzing your department because everyone worked overtime to cover her unexcused absences, this is when the male lead steps in and protects his darling from being bullied further.

To the writers of Love and Fortune: this example of lazy creativity is why your successful series eventually received backlash and everyone demanded a revamped version. In layman’s terms, fuck you assholes for making your job as the villainess a lot more difficult than it should be.

You already made her kneel and all that jazz in the last two loops and it didn’t do shit. Not this time. You were going to go for a more subtle, professional approach. As long as it seems like you were antagonizing Hyung Mun-Hee because Love and Fortune is written from her point of view, you should be fine. Hopefully. God, you hoped so.

If you actually got through this scene, you were definitely going to reward the team for their hard work with some baked goods for breakfast or a catered lunch. You haven’t used your infamous black credit card since this loop started. Rolling your shoulders back, you inhaled a slow, deep breath before leaning over towards the printer, grabbing the documents that the female lead emailed to you. You pretended to read them over, eyes narrowing and fingers thumbing through all of them until you reached the end. Rising from your seat, you walked out of the office and addressed the staff, calmly.

“Excuse me everyone, but may I have a moment of your time?” Your slightly agitated voice caused all seven team members to stare at you with faces that ranged from confusion, fear, and curiosity. You respectfully incline your head. “Thank you.” You held up your little prop in the air for all to see. “Whoever emailed me the paperwork I am to present at this afternoon’s meeting, please come to my office. I have some questions about the context.”

An uneasy silence fell upon the office, making your heart stink. Shit. You needed to improvise and fast before Being X noticed. You sighed, pressing two fingers to the side of your temple to make it seem like you were starting to feel a headache coming on, which funnily enough you were.

“I’m not going to bite anyone’s head off, I promise. There are just a few things in here that do not make sense and I’d like to understand before I am to present them as the team leader.” Please take the bait, Heyong Mun-Hee. You thought pleadingly with your eyes closed. If you have any self-respect left or at least feel a little sorry for being lazy, stand up and admit your mistake so that your perseverance shines through in this scene. You’ve done it before, you can do it again.

When you opened your eyes, she was still sitting at her desk with wide eyes and a flushed face, clutching her phone as if it were a lifeline. Your eyebrow twitched. You have got to be kidding me. You thought sourly. This isn’t how a female lead is supposed to act, let alone an actual employee of a multi-million won company.

Fine. If she wasn’t going to come to you willingly, then you couldn’t play nice.

You were about to call her out when she suddenly stood up and made a beeline towards your office, passing by you and taking a seat in your office. Huh? Isn’t this a bit rude? Unfortunately your role isn’t to ponder why certain people like common decency. So you turned around, walking back inside your workspace and closing the door behind you. Once you sat down behind the dark mahogany desk that was at least twice the size of a normal cubicle, you booted up your desktop and logged into the company’s bookkeeping program before swiveling the monitor around so that Hyeung Mun-Hee could see where she made her mistakes.

“Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, I noticed that there were some miscalculations here,” You moved your cursor over one column. “And here.” You moved it to the right. “Here as well.” You moved it back to the left, right in the middle. “The formula you imputed for Columns H to J is incorrect. I want you to refer to your department manual and make the necessary corrections before sending it out to the other departments. I trust you can handle this task?”

She should be able to. After all, the female lead had a buffer for being extremely intelligent and a math whiz in the script. That’s why she was selected to work here instead of Human Resources, where her communication skills were also top notch. Hyeung Mun-Hee quickly nodded, standing up from her seat and almost bolting back to her desk, still holding onto her phone like a security blanket. Which was a little odd. You don’t remember her being so protective of it in the previous loops.

You reclined back against your chair. Oh well, no matter. Time to see this house of cards come crashing down in five minutes. Too bad it can’t be longer. But the show must go on, right? She might be scripted to fail, but you gave her a chance to correct her mistakes. So in the end, it was truly and solely all her fault, not yours.

Sure enough the phones began ringing off of the hook, followed by shouting from a few of the senior employees. You got a frantic phone call from Research/Development manager Choi Iseul, asking why the promised budget had been cut in half. Closing out the screens on your desktop, you reassured the poor girl that you would look into this matter immediately before hanging up. She really didn’t need the stress right now at four months pregnant.

You stepped out of the office, demanding what was going on. All eyes turned to the leading lady herself, her head down and face pinkened in embarrassment. You blinked. “Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, what happened? You did fix the report as I had asked, right?” You controlled the tone of your voice, careful to not show anger and annoyance, strictly professionalism. You were pretty sure that you didn’t sound like a vindictive bitch either. But somehow she took your question as her cue to shout at you, to stop bullying her before running out towards the elevator. And right into the arms of the male lead.

You exhaled a deep breath, running a hand through [Hair Color] tresses before you turned your attention back towards the team. “I need to fix this report and send it off to the other departments or else things will get ugly. I know I’m asking a lot right now, but could you screen the incoming calls? If any of them asks, please let them know I am making the necessary corrections and will email it to them promptly. Disregard the one that they’ve received from Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee.”

Everyone clamored in agreement before diving back into their work, some already answering the phones and reciting exactly what you asked them to say as you bolted towards your office, slamming the door behind you. Considering that this isn’t your first loop, you had already taken the liberty of creating the correct report this morning before clocking in at the office. The issues were the same, so it took you all but twenty minutes to adjust and send it out to the managers.

The calamity that struck evaporated in an instant, and the phones had stopped ringing. To you, it only heralded the opening sequence of the next scenario. Looking up from your phone, you saw two people walk out of the elevator. The female lead was dabbing her puffy face with a checkered handkerchief, standing by Yeo Jung Hwa himself as he got off his own personal device, no doubt finishing his talk with the CFO about his darling’s little fuck up.

Placing your phone face down on the desk, you watched them glide across the room before the CEO reached your office, opening the door with a frown stretched across his face.

Yeo Jung Hwa. The male lead of Love and Fortune, blessed with good looks, riches, and has been in charge of the conglomerate since he was twenty years old. A classic tyrannical CEO that almost everyone loved to read or watch because they’d see how soft he was around his lover and wanted that same kind of treatment for themselves. You saw him as more of a cunning snake who knew what he wanted and would use any means necessary to get it.

But whatever. Time to get into character. You thought as you stood up, eyeing the male lead apathetically. “Good afternoon, sir. How can I help you?”

“Explain what happened.” He said, amethyst eyes narrowing at you. Yes, he has fucking purple eyes thank you goddamned screenwriters.

You raised an eyebrow. “Explain what, sir?” You asked. “The incident that has everyone in a panic?” Receiving nothing but silence from him, you continued. “It’s been resolved. I’ve already emailed all of the department heads the correct report to refer to at today’s meeting. I did tell Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee to fix the mistakes I’ve shown her,” You glanced at your employee before averting your attention back to the prick. “But when I looked at what was sent out, she did make a few adjustments…just that it only made matters worse and could have cost the company a lot of money.” You crossed your arms, leaning back against your desk. “Her performance was unacceptable, and she is my responsibility as her team leader. Which is why I would like to have Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee participate in this month’s upcoming financial seminars. A little refresher for two weeks, using her vacation days, and pass the tests so that there will not be a repeat of this incident again and jeopardize the conglomerate. Or would you see this as unfair treatment of an employee, CEO Yeo Jung-Hwa?”

You watched as the male lead looked over his shoulder, glaring balefully at his lover before he turned back to face you. “So be it. I want to see the results of her tests once they are completed and the lecturers aren’t under your payroll, Team Leader Park Seo-yun.”

“With all due respect, they are under your payroll, not mine.” You said drolly. “I don’t care how long it will take for her to complete the classes or to do the coursework. I want results, same as you. I do want to keep the completion certificates. If she doesn’t do it or chooses not to for whatever reason beyond a medical emergency, suspension with pay. No ifs, ands, or buts. Are these acceptable terms, sir?”

He didn’t like it, you could tell. Any event that separated from Hyeung Mun-Hee would put him in a sour mood and become more of a grouch. Kind of like a child having his favorite toy being taken away because he did something bad. But in this situation he couldn’t afford to have a temper tantrum for obvious reason:

1) Displaying an immature attitude in a professional environment will make him less appealing to the viewers.

2) As previously stated, it was the female lead’s fault that this whole mess happened. He saw the evidence of her major fuck up, the CFO saw it, everyone did. Trying to sweep it under the rug would only incite more rumors of nepotism. He has a reputation to maintain.

“...Fine.” He spat out. You nodded, seeing him turn on the ball of his foot and stomp out of the room. Nope, he is not happy about this. Neither is the trembling female lead standing in front of you. She really was a pretty woman, with reddish-brown hair falling past her shoulders and hazel eyes glistening with tears.

“You’re dismissed. I’ll let you know the seminar schedule once I hear back from HR. Please return to work, you still have two hours left on your shift.” You said, expecting her to go running to the restroom and cry, have a mental dialogue about how things were unfair right now but she will come out on top and preserve as it was written in the script. Except…she didn’t leave right away. She was glaring at you as if you were the most despicable person in the entire world, which you guess holds some truth.

“You said this is all my fault, but it isn’t because I wasn’t trained properly! Where do you get off, saying such horrible things like this?! Just because you are rich doesn’t mean you have a great personality!”

Your eyes widened in shock. Okay, this scene was definitely not part of the drama in the last three loops. And she’s smart enough to know to not say this, even if the door is closed!

Let’s be serious. No one should ever talk to a supervisor like this, even if they are an absolute scumbag and you hate their guts.

“Assistant Manager Hyeung Mun-Hee, you were trained to learn and carry out these tasks during the ninety day trial period after being hired by the conglomerate,” You said as you tried to calm your racing heart. “I showed you the mistakes you made, and it’s clear that you made almost no effort to fix them. If you had, then this incident would not have happened. That is why you are going to sit through those seminars and take notes, or you will be suspended without pay. This is not up for debate. And just because I am rich doesn’t mean you can talk down to people as if you are better than them, myself included. Now leave. And don’t let me hear such vulgar words in here again or I will punish you. Are we clear?”

“You-“

“Are you going to make me pull up your file and show everyone your certificates of completion from those training programs, the proof that you were trained to do your job and you’ve chosen to let others do your work for you?” You asked. “It’s fine to ask for help from others when needed, but you have to take responsibility for your actions or else you’ll never be able to surpass me.”

You watched Hyeung Mun-Hee’s face turn a darker shade of magenta and the tremors in her petite frame increase greatly before she excused herself. You could see the steam coming out of her ears; whether it was from embarrassment or anger, you weren’t certain. So long as she got your message and you acted your part as the villainess, then that should have met almost all of the requirements needed to move onto the next episode. The remaining factors were the viewership score and Being X’s approval.

The viewership score is a daily simple rating system numbered from 1 to 5 golden stars. If the episode reaches 3 and above, you’re clear. If the score is a 2, and Being X did not like your acting or even how everything played out, the loop would start all over again from the first scene. Perhaps instead of puppeteer, it’s more like a perfectionist director whose opinion can also be swayed by the viewership score. If the audience watching this fucked up universe enjoyed what they were watching, they’ll make it known.

After all, more ratings means more money, even if you’re not getting paid for this.

The last two loops where this episode happened, you followed the script to the letter without making any improvs. It didn't work out in the end, as you recalled with a frown at the memory. After being forced to kneel on the floor as you had done to her, you watched the lovebirds embrace. Well, at least the male lead was trying to comfort his ‘pure-hearted’ lover when that bitch smiled down at you from over his shoulder. As if she had won the game and you were the loser. Being X didn’t like the viewership scores back then. Now? Well, that’ll depend on whether or not you’ll wake up to the setting of episode 25 tomorrow morning. It’s either that…or finding yourself in the interview room again with Hyeung Mun-Hee during the pilot episode, her job application in your hand.

Fuck my life. You thought glumly.

Congratulations, Congratulations, Congratulations!

Important things must be said three times.

The viewership score on Episode 24 has arrived!

Taglist: @nunezs-stuff @imperfectbloodmoon @yandere-dark-cupid @justcressida @cassanderasblog @faesdreaming @faux-ecrivain @abelheilonwife @tired-of-life-86 @tonightwrites @ixchelhernandez4 @aiimee9 @swallowtail-lotus @diannaflight @sweetbatherodonkey @strangepoppy @mochinon-yah @classicdummy @lanxianschoenheit @aman3kkun @beardedblizzardexpert @reiivven @majestichugs

#forbidden-sunlight #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere!ceo #fem!reader #villainess!reader #ns.fw #yandere manhwa x reader #x reader #tw sui attempt #tw sui implied #tw work toxicity #cw sui attempt #cw work toxicity

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yzashaven · 8 months

Text

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒11

꒰ —♡ D U M B I F I C A T I O N﹒O V E R S T I M ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! itto, neuvillette, kazuha, cyno x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! dumbification ofc, mentions of overstimulation, mirror sex, prone bone, missionary, taken from behind, praise, degradation, clit stim, nipple stim, dacryphilia for itto if you squint, squirting, french with neuvi!!

NOTE ! NOTHING IS PROOFREAD HELP. i was supposed to include scara for this one but decided last minute to put his in a separate post instead :3 also i hope these count accordingly to the kinks <3 hell week is done for me so i think i can get started on the rest !!

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @kana-de @ciarchivez @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @kateybuggi @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @supercoolusernameomg @uchihaeirin @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @nothingfuninthislife @eunchaeluvr @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @zxdksimpo @kikosaidbye @bleubirdinthesky @rottmntrulesall @angelofdarkness2 @kvronushi @adeptuscharm @wolfiafan10

—ARATAKI ITTO

no because he can easily fuck you dumb due to his size + that oni strength and stamina goes a long way. trust. also loud mention of how cocky he becomes?!

"you look so pathetic, so needy~" itto was holding your ass up as he pounded your pussy from behind. if he wasn't holding onto your body, you for sure would've already collapsed by now—well your upper half had already done just that but that's besides the point here. your moans were muffled by the pillow that you held on to, it also catched the tears that rolled down your cheeks due to the amount of plessure being emitted to your body right now. "you take my cock so well. want me to fill you up, don't ya~?" he leans down close to whisper those dirty words in your ear. him being closer just let his cock reach deeper, causing your walls to clench around him tightly, earning a deep groan of approval from the oni. "fuck, didn't know you could get even tighter, hah~" he slows down his thrusts for a while, "feels real good, doesn't it? n-ngh~ that's because i'm the one fucking you. that's right~" he pulls back, making you whine and look back at him as the sudden feeling of emptiness engulfed you. he smirked, pushing your head back down into the pillow before slamming back in, thrusting roughly, eliciting loud moans and cries from you. "feels good? tell me it feels good, come on." he was now fucking you hard, waiting for you to comply with him, "f-feels so good~ itto~! fuck—right there~!!" listening to your sobs, he continues to drive you to cum around him. not soon after, he chuckles darkly at the scene before him; with a loud explicit moan of his name, you had let the feeling of intense ecstasy take over your whole body as you spasmed under him, squirting. the bed beneath was already soaked but this one had just made it even wetter than before. "god, you're just so hot, baby. come here, lemme fuck you some more~"

—NEUVILLETTE

he'd definitely fuck you on a desk with your legs spread wide open just for him, but that's a different story. for now, i'd love to mention how good he'd be at heart fluttering praise + mirror sex <3

"don't you see how perfect you look like this, ma amour?" neuvillette whispered directly into your ear as his hands continued to trail down your body, from the soft flesh of your neck and collarbone that were covered in lovely bite marks, to your hips, and to your thighs that were soaked of your arousal along with the mix of your previous orgasms not too long ago. "eyes on the reflection, pretty girl." you lazily direct your eyes to the large mirror in front of you both, showing a lewd scene; you sat on his lap with your two legs spread wide, his cock impaled you deep, stretching you out so much and so good. neuvillette's hands made their way down to your inner thighs, holding them apart, "see how well you're taking me?" he slightly lifts your thighs before slowly thrusting up into your still drenched cunt, making you whimper at the sensation of being filled yet again. "you haven't said a word in quite some time now, is that pretty little head of yours still functioning properly, hmm?"—it wasn't. he peeked at your expression in the mirror, a fucked out look on your face, drool coming down from the corners of your lips, eyes half lidded, all the while your moans and pleas were echoing throughout the walls of the enclosed room. "c-cumming—cumming...! cock s-so good... neuvi~!" he smirked at the way your body reacted towards his touch, thrusting up one last time, making sure his tip would hit your cervix as you orgasmed for what felt like the hundredth time already. kissing your neck softly as his fingers gently set a comfortable pace on your clit, "tu es si adorable, ma chérie~ tell me... tu as envie de plus~?"

[ "my love" ♡ "you're so adorable, my dear~" ♡ "do you crave for more~?" ]

—KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

MISSIONARY. justttt yes. he loves being able to see all of you; from your face, observing how it reacts to him—the way your lips part to gasp with each thrust that lets his tip hit your cervix, each cry for his name that left your lips drives him absolutely crazy.

"that's it, love... keep taking me like that~" kazuha coos gently, hands gripping at your thighs, spreading them open just for him. he's leaning close to you, allowing you to tangle your fingers in his soft hair. "darling~ you feel so good... can you feel me?" he bucks his hips, reaching deep inside you before beginning to grind against you as one of his hands makes its way to grope at your breasts, delicately fondling with the soft flesh and teasing your nipples in between his fingers. to which he then leaned down to take one in his mouth—licking around the bud and gently nibbling on it, eliciting a lewd moan from you. the mixture of that and his gentle grinding that had his cock hitting your g-spot perfectly made you feel weak. "k-kazu—ah~! gonna cum~!" "cum around me, love~ you're so pretty when you do~" with that, he pulled back before beginning to thrust into you again sweetly, at a pace that was comfortable for you as he helped you ride out yet another orgasm that evening. he paused his movements for a while, taking in the sight of you writhing beneath him, choked back sobs and sweet moans being drawn from your agape lips over and over again. "...you look way too ravishing for me to just watch you, love..." kazuha lets out a satisfied sigh, setting a faster pace than before, causing you to scream out his name in pornographic moans that echoed through the room as the moonlight was shining down at you through the window, making the scene look ever so majestic. "my darling~ looks so mesmerizing while crying out my name. let me hear more of you, i'll give you so... so much more tonight~"

—CYNO

deep prone bone. that's all that i can say other than oh dear archons he'd be another one that's pretty damn good at praise...but also throws light degrading word at you from time to time—he's serious during it i swear, no dad/cyno jokes (at least for this time)

"such a pretty whore you are..." cyno pulls back fully, only to slowly dip back inside, fully sheated within your warmth yet again. "...aren't you?" you moan as a reply, muffled whimpers attempt to escape your lips as he pushed your head further into the pillows beneath, making you look so helpless as he continued to fuck you into the soft mattress—a pool of your arousal beneath you, directly at your clit, coating it in the sticky and wet fluid as your sweet sensitive bud rubbed against the sheets, only adding to the stimulation you were already getting from his thrusts alone. cyno moves your hair to the side, giving him acces to the back of your neck, sucking on the soft skin soon after. "you smell so good, you taste so good... i can't ever get enough of you~" he groans, sharply snapping his hips against yours. he peeks at your face, smirking at the view, "fuck—you're practically drooling on this cock, pretty girl. s'that good?" you nod, slurring a few words of approval. cyno's hands grip your waist to elevate your hips a bit, letting his fingers graze your delicate skin towards your clit. his fingertips pleasuring the swollen, covered in cum little bud at a pace that matched with the thrusts of his hips and sending shivers down your spine that soon travelled to the rest of your body, "let me give you even more pleasure, my pretty slut~ you don't even need to say a word, stay still and take my cock, yeah~?"

#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆#♡.･ occasions ✰°｡⋆#genshin smut #genshin x reader #itto smut #itto x reader #arataki itto smut #arataki itto x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette x reader #kazuha smut #kazuha x reader #kaedehara kazuha smut #kaedehara kazuha x reader #cyno smut #cyno x reader

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kykyonthemoon · 7 days

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How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter

By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb

ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.

ಇ. Word count: 4k3

ಇ. Requested by Krys.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."

The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.

The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:

“Now you are mine.”

The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:

“Please stop.”

Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.

"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."

Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.

"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.

"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."

Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip.

“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game.

"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.”

"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”

Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?

“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”

The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.

Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.

Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.

Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.

"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"

You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.

“You… What are you doing?”

“Is that how you speak to a princess?”

You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.

“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”

"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."

He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"

"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”

Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:

“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”

Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:

“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."

But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.

“Is that all?”

"Huh?"

“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”

Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”

Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.

“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.”

You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.

“Entertain me then. Would you?”

Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear.

“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”

Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging.

“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”

At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.

He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.

Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes.

Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.

“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”

“Oh, my Lumiere…”

A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him.

In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.

“This… is mine!”

You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.

"You… Why have you read my book?"

"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.

"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"

"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"

You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.

His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.

"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.

“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking.

“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended.

“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”

Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.

“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."

You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.

“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."

“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.

“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”

Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:

“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”

A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:

“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”

Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf.

“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"

Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.

“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”

Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner.

When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.

Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands.

“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”

He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.

Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.

He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.

“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.

“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”

"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”

You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.

“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.

“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”

Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.

Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”

A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"

Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.

“Yes. Hello."

"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal.

Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:

“I also want to refer to some things from there.”

You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”

Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away.

"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."

“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”

You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.

Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.

“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”

“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"

You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.

Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.

Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.

“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."

You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.

“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.”

You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.

“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”

As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"

Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."

“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃

During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.

While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:

“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”

“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”

You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.

“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”

You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”

“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."

“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"

You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”

He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.

"No way! This… You can't read it!”

Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away.

“I said, you can't read it!”

The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.

He knew.

He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.

A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.

In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.

“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”

“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”

You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat.

“So you like romantic stories… like this?”

You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.

When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.

That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.

You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.

Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.

“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.

During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something.

Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.

“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.

Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."

You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.

You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.

"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.

“Pip-squeak, don't go.”

You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.

“Do you still read that story?”

Your head shook slightly as an answer.

"How come? Why did you stop?"

“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"

Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.

“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”

He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.

“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.

“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”

He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in.

At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him.

If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.

“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”

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dominantslasherking · 8 months

Text

Patrick Bateman with Dominant Male S/o

My Stories are meant for the much more mature audience, 18+

Backstory: Patrick had always mistaken his jealousy for you to be out of wanting what you want, to be like you, when it was in fact that Patrick was jealous because he couldn't be with you. Patrick wants to show you how much he wants you, by getting on his knees like a good boy. (BTW you're his boss) Warnings: Needy Patrick Bateman. Bratty Patrick Bateman. Submissive Patrick bateman

"Mr. Bateman?"

His assistant's voice was drowned out by his raving thoughts, his still face urked something deeper on the inside. Patrick's breath halted as he watched you enter the meeting room. Patrick''s eyes fixated on you, the object of his all-consuming fixation, You, wearing a designer suit so exquisitely tailored. "The stitching was so fine that it could have been performed by angels, and the black silk tie, perfectly knotted, was a stark contrast to the snowy white dress shirt beneath. His cuffs peeked out just enough, revealing pristine, perfectly aligned links that seemed to shimmer in the ambient light."

Patrick's inner monologue continued to obsess over your suit and how it was tailor-made, and it made Patrick grit his teeth a bit that you one-upped him with your tailor-made, and currently-in-style suit.

Patrick was snapped out of his intense thinking as you greeted him, your large and veiny hand, taking in his own. "Pleasure, once again Mr Bateman." Your humble and husky voice rang. Patrick gave a fake smile. "Of course." You could tell that Patrick held back his greetings of praise was that jealousy written on his face? The business meeting continued on normally, Patrick always sparing you passing glances, a mixture of emotions displayed in his eyes.

<>><<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>> The next scene was at Dorsia, the place Patrick could never get into, but he was oh so shocked to receive an invitation from you of all people.

But Patrick was just happy he could get in, he wore a fake smile, his best suit, and a pretty woman at his side. Patrick's smile instantly fell when he saw you, with a breathtaking woman, more beautiful than the one at his side.

But it wasn't jealousy of the woman you had, it was something more, that Patrick couldn't place just yet.

"Don't worry, the meal is on me." You politely stated, as Patrick's intense gaze lifted up from the menu and onto you for a brief moment, a mutter under his breath, something incoherent, but, you could tell he was mocking you. Slowly you rested your face lightly on your knuckles amused by him, how come you have never noticed such a handsome yet bratty worker? Not only that but when the waiter came over, you saw a sinister grin place itself on Patrick's face as he smiled showing off his pearly teeth. "I think I'll indulge in the 'Golden Elixir of Ostentation,'" Patrick said purposely ordering the most expensive alcoholic beverage on the menu, he was clearly reveling in his choice. It seemed he was expecting you to protest in a sense, but you straightened up your posture a bit and gave a small nod. "Make that two bottles." "The bratty veneer I had carefully cultivated crumbled away. It was a sensation I hadn't felt in a long time - the desire to submit." Patrick had thought. His face fell into one of stillness and unease.

<>><<>>><<>>><><><><><<<>>

Patrick opened his mouth, letting your fingers enter. Patrick's tongue rolled around, licking and slurping on your fingers, as he then began to suck, maintaining eye contact with you. On his knees, in your fancy penthouse is where the current setting was. Patrick was already stripped of most of his suit, his suit's jacket laying somewhere, Tie gone, his white dress shirt unbuttoned nearly fully, his hair a mess. "[Name].." Patrick's voice was muffled and breathless as he tried to speak with your fingers in his mouth, his eyes were a bit droopy with lust.

"In that instant, the power dynamics shifted, and I found myself navigating a treacherous new territory, craving his attention and approval more than ever before." --- Patrick Bateman.

#male reader #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x reader #x male reader #american psycho #patrick bateman x male reader #Slasher x reader #Slasher x male reader #Bottom Patrick Bateman #gay patrick bateman #slashers x male reader #slashers x you #slasher imagines #patrick bateman imagine #slasher imagine

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sunny44 · 3 months

Text

Morning cuddles

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Wife!reader

Warnings: just fluff.

Summary: Morning cuddles with Carlos and your baby boy.

I wake up to the soft sounds of birds chirping outside our window, the gentle rays of sunlight filtering through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Stretching my limbs, I let out a content sigh, feeling the softness of the sheets beneath me. As I start to rise from the bed, I hear the creak of the floorboards downstairs, signaling that Carlos is already up.

With a smile tugging at the corners of my lips, I make my way downstairs, the anticipation of seeing my two favorite boys filling me with warmth. As I reach the bottom of the stairs, I catch sight of Carlos, his messy bed hair tousled in every direction, only in his boxers.

In his arms, our little bundle of joy, our baby boy, rests peacefully, a tiny smile playing on his lips as he dreams.

Before I can even utter a greeting, Carlos sneaks up behind me, his strong arms enveloping me in a warm embrace. I lean back into his chest, reveling in the feeling of being surrounded by his love. Together, we create a cocoon of warmth and affection, our little family complete in this moment.

"Good morning, amor." Carlos whispers, his voice a soft melody that sends shivers down my spine.

"Good morning, cariño." I reply, turning my head to press a gentle kiss against his cheek.

We stand there for a moment, basking in the tranquility of the morning, the only sounds being the steady rhythm of our breaths and the occasional coo from our son. It's moments like these that make all the challenges of parenthood worth it, the simple joy of being together as a family filling our hearts to the brim.

Eventually, Carlos releases me from his embrace, but not before pressing a lingering kiss to the top of my head. With a smile, he lowers himself onto the couch, cradling our son in his arms. I join him, settling in beside him, our bodies fitting together like two pieces of a puzzle.

Our son stirs awake, his bright eyes blinking sleepily as he takes in the world around him. A gurgle of delight escapes his lips as he reaches out towards us, his tiny fingers grasping at the air. Carlos and I exchange a knowing look, our hearts swelling with love for this precious little soul that we've brought into the world.

"Hey there, mi amor," Carlos coos, pressing a gentle kiss to our son's forehead. "Did you sleep well?"

I chuckle softly, running a hand through our son's silky hair.

"He looks like he had the sweetest dreams." I remark, a fond smile on my lips.

We spend the next few minutes simply admiring our son, marveling at the miracle of his existence. He may only be a few months old, but already he's brought so much joy and love into our lives, filling each day with laughter and wonder.

As the morning sun continues to rise higher in the sky, casting golden beams of light through the windows, I feel a sense of peace settle over me. In this moment, surrounded by the two people I love most in the world, I know that everything is exactly as it should be.

With a contented sigh, I lean against Carlos, feeling his warmth seeping into my bones. Our son snuggles closer to us, his tiny hand resting against my chest as if to remind me that we're all in this together. And as we sit there, bathed in the glow of the morning sun, I can't help but feel grateful for the simple yet profound beauty of this life we've created together.

Bonus scene!

Yourusername Instagram stories

“Morning cuddles with my favorite boys.”

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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months

Text

Safer

Summary: After the fall of the prison and a brutal assault, Daryl cares for you.

NOTE (please read): A mutual requested this a while ago. Took a long while to write, and tbh I considered turning the req down given the premise and my firm stance on writing graphic SA which you can find here. However, they explained to me that they are a victim of a violent s*xual assault, and they expressed it would be healing in a way to have a story where they were cared for by their comfort character. After some consideration, I decided to go for it. I'm sure a lot of us have been victimized by people who couldn't control their urges, or those who lacked respect for our boundaries, bodies, and consent. Myself included. So, this story is for us, to those of us that can stomach it.

DISCLAIMER: There are no scenes of graphic SA, only the aftermath. While I will not be telling any descriptive scenarios of being assaulted, I do want to clearly express that this is a generally heavy story and it may not be suitable for all audiences. Please consume responsibly.

**I will not be tagging anyone on the taglist due to the content of this story**

18+MDNI || WARNINGS: non-graphic allusions to SA, violence, mild nudity descriptions, generally heavy content so I can't say it enough: TW!!!

Banners credited on my masterlist!!

Daryl's vision was blurred as he blinked himself to consciousness. It took him some time to gather his thoughts and recognize his surroundings. His wrists and ankles were bound together, his mouth gagged with a cloth that tasted of sweat and filth. He stared up at the treetops towering over him. It was dark outside, save for the dim light of a dying campfire a few feet away. He lifted his head from the forest floor and looked down past his feet. Lumps of sleeping bodies under raggedy blankets and torn sleeping bags rested around him. His heart raced as his memories crept back in; of you, screaming his name, of him fighting off the group of men who caught him off guard, of twigs snapping and a searing pain over the side of his head. Was that why his face felt so sticky? Was it dried blood?

His eyes strained in the fading light of ember and ash. Where were you? He noticed a crumpled form at the foot of a tree. Her breathing was shallow and her clothes were torn, pants not even pulled up over her bare behind. That much, he could see. His throat tightened. His eyes watered. What the hell had he let them do to you? How could he have let this happen? He had to get you out of there, and fast. If they hadn't killed him yet, that was surely on their agenda.

He began to squirm and writhe against his restraints. Whoever tied him up had experience. Just as hopelessness began to set in and cloud his judgement with fear -- real, genuine fear -- he noticed a reflection in the leaves. Just a few feet past his boots, a man was curled up on his side, snoring lightly in the calm breeze. His back was turned to Daryl, and behind him set a grungy backpack with a blade sticking out of the smallest pocket in the front. He glanced back to you, shivering on the ground, unsure if you were awake or unconscious or simply passed out from the exhaustion of prior events.

The sight of you in your disheveled mess was all her needed to kick him into gear. Carefully and hastily, he scooted himself down toward his only chance at redeeming his status as a loyal protector of the weak and vulnerable. Ideally, he'd be able to accomplish this in silence, but he was not in an ideal situation. His circumstances were heavy, laced in sweat and angst. The leaves beneath him rustled as his back slid across the ground, twigs snapping or moving to the side as he made his way closer to the large hunting knife. He'd pause between each scoot, studying the sleeping men around him for any sign of movement or wakefulness. When he'd decide the coast was clear enough, he'd resume. It felt like an eternity, but he made it there.

His core muscles strained as he sat himself up. He realized how sore he was. He must have taken a good beating. Seemed fitting, though. He was never one to go down without a fight. He left that sort of weakness in his past.

He guided his shaky, bound hands over to the bag. He slowly slid the knife out of the front pocket. His heart raged against his ribs. He didn't dare take a single breath until it was secured.

Slow. Slowness. Slowly. He repeated every variation of the word in his mind as he positioned the knife between his palms and dragged it back and forth until the rope finally severed. A silent breath of relief escaped him as he ripped the gag from his lips and worked on the rope tied around his ankles. When he was free, he stood and counted the sleeping bodies beneath him. Excluding you, there were four.

He considered waking you up and running for the hills, but he couldn't leave any loose ends. No, he thought of it like when your t-shirt has a loose thread. You could leave it to keep unraveling, or you could burn it at the base and extend the lifetime of your clothes. He decided he needed to burn this string before it could unravel any further.

Starting with the man closest to him -- the one who so graciously left his knife in plain sight for the archer -- he krept over and crouched down, plunching the blade into the base of his skull. Then, he moved on to the next, and the next one, and the one after that, until they were all a problem of the past. Until that pesky little thread could do no further damage to the rest of the shirt.

When the dirty work was behind him, he dropped the knife and rushed over to you. Your wrists were tied like his, but you were tied to the tree so you couldn't run. He eyed you over and gulped. With your pants not fully covering you and your shirt all ripped up, he could see the finger-shaped bruises littering your skin. There was blood on your inner thighs. Your lips were swollen and cut. His blood heated until it hit a boiling point. His hands trembled as they hovered over you. Touching you felt like a crime, but he had to wake you. He had to get you out of there.

"(Y/N)." He whispered as he laid a hand on your shoulder. You were shivering in the cool air, but a thin layer of sweat blanketed your exposed flesh. He gave you a gentle shake. "((Y/N), c'mon. We gotta go." He pleaded softly.

Your body jerked and you jolted awake. You gave him no chance to explain as you scrambled to your knees and cowered away against the tree.

"(Y/N) it's me. It's Daryl." He attempted his most soothing tone of voice. "C'mon, let me get ya cleaned up."

He outstretched his arm, offering you his hand. Without making eye contact you made a move to take it, but you were stopped by the restricting force of the rope that kept you anchored to the tree trunk. He moved quickly for the knife he tossed to the side earlier and returned with it. Without the pressure of remaining silent, he had your hands free in seconds.

He wasted no time helping you to your feet and averting his gaze as he slid your pants up where they belonged. He found he had a hard time keeping his mind straight and focused as your weeping filled the quiet campsite.

"Shh.." He cooed, keeping one hand on your upper back as he ushered you along with him to gather his things and yours. A smart man would have rummaged through the belongings of the ones he killed, too, but he wasn't concerned with making a smart call at that point. He was only worried about you.

"It's alright. C'mon. Let's get ya somewhere you can rest. It's alright. C'mon." He felt useless as ever, repeating the same generic words of comfort as you limped along beside him. He never urged you to up the pace, he didn't drag you along or have you carry your own bag. He felt like the least he could do was shoulder the weight of survival on behalf of you both. He couldn't get the image out of his mind of ou laying there,caked in blood, sweat, and bruises. A girl like you should have been caked in perfume and makeup. You hair should have been done up nice for a Sunday brunch, not matted with leaves and dirt. Your clothes should have been pristine and well fitting, unlike the filthy torn clothes that were beginning to hang off your frame like tender meat falling from the bone. You didn't deserve this. You didn't deserve any of it.

Eventually he found an acceptable spot that looked like it could have been a den for a hibernating bear. It was a big shrub by a little stream, perfectly indented to give you both enough room to crouch under its foliage. He gently set you down, dropping his bow and your bags beside him. He crouched down in front of you and scanned you, worry written articulately over his features.

Your eyes remained glued to the ground. Your nose was upturned in disgust but your eyes told a different story; one of pain and despair and mourning for the person you were before that night. Your frown was deep enough to leave a scar.

"(Y/N)..." He breathed. Your eyes slowly found their way to his and welled with tears all over again. Of all things you had -- meaning, being alive and away from those men -- there was nothing you were more grateful for than his blue eyes staring back at you. You hated the way he looked at you with defeat and pity, though. You hated that he had one more thing to worry about. Still, he was there, and he was welcome. "Let's get ya cleaned up, okay?"

You nodded once, if absentmindedly. Your thoughts were elsewhere. You couldn't pinpoint their location, though. They were scrambled, swarming all around you, like gnats you couldn't swat away.

He pulled an old shirt from his bag and leaned over to the stream, getting it nice and wet before wringing it out. He turned back to you and brought it up to your cheek, gently dabbing and swiping away at the dirt, grime, sweat, and blood. He moved on to your neck and hands, then he paused. You both looked down at your jeans. You knew it needed to be taken care of, and he did too, but the question was really about which one of you would be brave enough to work on the gruesome scene between your legs.

One look at your expression and he knew it couldn't be you. But, how could it be him? He couldn't put you in such a vulnerable position. No, not him.

That's when the lightbulb went off over his head. The stream, of course.

"Here." He offered you a hand. You took it slowly and he led you to your feet. "Wanna get in the water?" He asked. You stared down at the serene flowing water, trickling just before your feet. He cleared his throat. "I don't gotta look."

You almost could have laughed. After everything that had happened, Daryl seeing you bathe wasn't really a concern. Still, you had to maintain some shred of dignity, and washing those men off of you was a much needed stride toward leaving that horrid night in your past. So, you nodded, and he turned away to start a fire where you could warm up after rinsing off.

The button was busted off of your jeans. You guessed they couldn't waste their time with something as simple as undoing a button. You let out a shaky sigh and gritted your teeth. You moved to bend over and slide your jeans down, but a searing pain shot through your insides. You whimpered. "I can't." You barely managed.

"Huh?" He asked over his shoulder.

"I can't." You spoke up with a tremble. "I can't get them off. It hurts."

His throat tightened up. Had they really been so cruel to you?

"Ya want me to..." He trailed off.

"Please." You whispered and shut your eyes. He stood beside you and pulled your pants down to your ankles, kneeling down as he did so.

"Grab my shoulder." He instructed softly. You did. "Left leg." He said. You pulled it out. "Now the right."

With your jeans off, he stood up and looked down at your face, which you his from him, avoiding his gaze.

"Your -- Uh.." He glanced down at your underwear. You nodded, not needing to see what he meant. He followed the same process with those and turned away as soon as he was done. You cleared your throat.

"Can you help me sit?" You whispered. He sucked in a breath. It wasn't that you were annoying him. Anything but that, actually. He was glad to help you in any way you needed. It was the simple fact that you needed the help that was eating him alive. The thought that those guys could hurt you in this way, to this extent, was infuriating and heartbreaking.

He turned back to you and hovered behind you, placing a hand under each arm to support you while you lowered yourself down into the water. Once you were sitting on the creek bed, you adjusted yourself and sighed.

"Just, uh, watch for snakes, okay?" Was all he could say before turning his attention back to the fire finally.

Your frown deepened as you stared down at your bloodied thighs. A plop beside you startled you before realizing it was just the old shirt he was using to clean you up.

"Figured ya might need it." He mumbled.

You gripped the cloth in your hand and stared at it. Blood and filth stained it. Your lip quivered as you ran it over your inner thighs, scrubbing your own dried blood away and watching it disappear in the gentle current. You hissed and winced as you cleaned yourself where you were really injured.

When you were done, you peered over your shoulder, where Daryl stared at the small flame. He felt your eyes on him and he looked up at you.

"Need some clothes?" He asked.

"Please." You replied. He nodded once and rummaged through your bag. He could only find a semi-clean shirt, but no more pants. He pulled his own bag forward and searched for the new two-pack of boxers he'd scavenged awhile back.

"I, uh, didn't see no more pants, but... You can have those." He said, holding your shirt and the fresh boxers out to you.

"Thanks." You pressed your lips into a thin attempt at a friendly smile.

He turned away again so you could change your shirt, but you needed his help with the boxers, which he did without you needing to ask, and without a single peek at you.

He helped you back over to the den where you could warm up by the fire. You kept the blanket in your bag, so he made sure to wrap it around your shoulders while you sat.

"Ain't got no food." He broke the silence after a little while. You nodded.

"Not hungry anyways."

"Mm." He hummed. "Get some sleep. I'll keep watch."

----

By midday, you were on the move again, trailing right behind him as he stomped slowly over the underbrush so you could keep his pace. He'd stop every now and then, and though he didn't say it, you knew it was because he didn't want to overwork you.

By late afternoon, the sun was on the far end of the sky, casting an orange glow over the woods.

Daryl had barely been able to look at you, and you couldn't exactly claim any different. You two had taken a break again, sipping water and scanning around for any game or edible plants.

"I want ya to know.." He cleared his throat, shattering the thick silence that glazed over you both all day. "I want ya to know I didn't see it. None of it."

"I know you weren't looking." You deadpanned.

"Nah, not at the stream. I meant -- I didn't see none of it." He clarified. He had a sneaking suspicion the reason you couldn't bare to look at him might have been the possibility of him seeing what had happened to you. He, however, just hated seeing you look so broken, knowing had he been more vigilant yesterday, none of those guys would have been able to sneak up on him. You looked at him finally.

"I know. They hit you over the head 'cause you were fighting them."

"Mm." He nodded. "I just... I need to tell ya I'm sorry." His voice cracked as he looked down at his hands and back up to you. His leg was bouncing anxiously and his gums must have bled from how hard he chewed at them.

"Why?" You pushed your eyebrows together.

"I shoulda been lookin' out. Shoulda protected ya. Shoulda--"

"You were. You have been." You cut him off. "You've looked out for me every day since the prison. You've been protecting me since the quarry. You protect everyone. That wasn't your fault." You insisted. He just looked back down at his hands and sniffled, blinking back tears. He scolded himself for being the one to cry, when you were the one who got hurt. "Hey." You pressed on. "Listen to me. You got us out of there. You took care of them. You saved me. Then, you still took care of me. If we were still back there, they would have killed you and robbed you by now. And, if they hadn't killed me yet, I'd be wishing I was dead. I wouldn't be here without you. I would have never survived even before last night without you, and I wouldn't be sitting here telling you that today if it weren't for you."

He looked you in the eyes as you spoke every word. It was a great relief to him that you weren't angry with him -- that you didn't blame him. Still, he felt so uneasy.

"Can we camp here?" You asked suddenly. He shrugged.

"Yeah. We can." He agreed. His voice was still broken.

"Can I sit with you?" You asked. He looked confused but he still nodded, even if he was unsure what you meant.

Ignoring the aches all over your body, you crawled over to him and sat in front of him, between his legs, leaning your back against his torso. He was stiff, unused to being so close to someone, but he didn't resist. As you settled in and got comfortable, he rested his arms by your sides.

"You didn't fail me, Daryl. Nobody makes me feel safer."

Join the taglist || Masterlist

#tw: implied abuse #tw: implied sa #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n

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musicalslugs · 7 months

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Grace and the Lords in Black: an analysis.

Okay, so, this may be obvious; although I haven’t seen anyone mention this as of yet. The link between Grace Chastity and the Lords in Black is clear, I mean we’ve all agreed that she seems to be like that, and Dirty Dudes must Die highlights her “corruption” plainly.

That being said! I think there may be more.

Firstly, the Lords in Black mention/talk to Grace first, before Peter and Stephanie (the arguable proper protagonists of this story).

Sure, Blinky’s motif is obvious, it’s of eyes, of watching and of observation. But to speak to Grace first, even if it seems (on the surface level) that it’s just to flex their omniscience and make her uncomfortable, is a little strange. Especially since they then speak mostly (only) to Steph for the rest of the song [The Summoning].

Secondly, because if that were all this wouldn’t be a very good analysis, we have her (Grace) and Nibbly being echoes of eachother.

“Swallow” and “devour” are synonymous. Both fit into Nibbly’s motif of consumption. Now, Grace could’ve said anything. Absorb, harness, control etc. I think the wording here is particular. Not exactly the same, but clearly within the same ball park.

What is exactly the same though, is Grace Chastity and Wiggly.

This may seem a bit out of left field at first, but hear me out.

In The Summoning, it is said that “Wiggly wants his Wrath”, Wrath is a vice, a sin. It may not be the exact opposite of Chastity, however Chastity is to do with restraint, whereas Wrath is very much, not so. Moreover, Wrath can be defined as ‘a great anger that expresses itself in a desire to punish someone’. Now… who else could be described as wrathful? Obviously Max. And Grace. I mean, her song is called Dirty Dudes must Die. As well as being a direct reflection of Max, it implies that she wants to harm someone. Punish someone though? Well, yes. Grace says “This is the consequence of what you’ve done!” - she must believe that death is a worthy punishment for their actions (being ‘pervs’). Thus, Wrath.

Lastly, and this is where the exactly comes in, Grace and Wiggly both say the same things. (Again, of course, I could write another analysis on how Grace and Max reflect each other beautifully by also saying the same/extremely similar things) The difference between Grace saying similar things to Max, is that she and Wiggly aren’t similar. It’s the same.

Example A) Stephy / Stephie.

Upon rewatching Nerdy Prudes Must Die and listening to the album on repeat, I noticed that no one bar these two call Stephanie: Stephie. I know Grace calls Ruth, Ruthy and Peter, Petey- so her calling Stephanie, Stephie, makes sense linguistically. That doesn’t take from the fact that Wiggly is the only other ‘person’ to use that particular moniker.

Example B) “bloody bits”

A particularly strange phrase that these two say. However, not really. The point of this analysis is to point out the links between the Lords in Black and Grace Chastity, specifically Wiggly and Grace. By pointing out the parallels in their idiolects, I have come to the conclusion that they are not only linked but INCREDIBLY similar.

Both are characters that use cutesy, almost childish language (“mommy spot” / “belly-well”) to disguise the violence, the wrath that lays beneath the surface. Wiggly (as shown in Black Friday) uses it as a facade. Throughout Black Friday and throughout The Summoning, he expresses himself as non-threatening (“We’re all pally-wals.” etc) before eventually showing what’s beneath the surface (“..deck the fucking halls!” / “We don’t give a shit about your phone!”). Both times are as abrupt as each other, showing that Wiggly has a fairly short temper. Grace doesn’t necessarily have a short temper, instead she has periods of ‘sin’, when stressed: Dirty Girl, calling “God a son of a B-Word”, smoking (after), having sex with Max, the scene of her ordering hot water etc etc. The visage, her carefully constructed facade, slips. Wether it’s because deep down she doesn’t believe in God (possibly shown in her “are you religious?” conversation with Shapiro), or that due to her upbringing she’s being confined, restrained, controlled, and this is when her ‘true self’ begins to peer through the cracks.

Either way, these are two characters who use similar themes (one of childishness, the other of purity/innocence (which can also be linked to childishness)) to cover their violence, their real selves.

Uhhh- anyway, watch Nerdy Prudes must Die on Youtube- it gave me brain worms.

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nouvxllev · 4 months

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after party

Pairing: G!p!Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: in which you both left a party in pure silence just seconds after tara pulled you away from flirting too much with a girl.

Words: 4.5k

Warnings: pure and heavy smut like every scene is a sex scene. oh and its angry sex

a/n: i wanna consider this as the special valentines fic because the main one im writing right now im totally so damn stumped on. so heres one to atleast keep up with my stories

masterlist.

You were too fucked out of your mind to even process anything. All you took note of was that your girlfriend looks pretty fucking hot when she's jealous.

Your breath was caught in your throat as Tara's hands pressed you firmly against the wall, a forceful thud and your back meeting the hard surface, your bodies pressed together as your hands tried to push her away but your efforts were in vain when you were met with her abs concealed beneath her shirt. Tara's lips claimed yours without a second of hesitation, letting her mouth slip inside as she explored every inch of you.

A gasp that turned into a moan escaped your lips as Tara's hands slid eagerly under your thighs, you could feel a smirk between kisses, her touch warm under your skin as she effortlessly lifted you up against the wall, all while you allowed your tongue surrender as she took control over you. You could feel her fingers slipping under your shorts, caressing every inch of your skin with her thumb, tracing the delicate curves of your ass before squeezing it sent shivers down your spine.

Her lips on yours and her hot breath mingled with your own was its own fix. Too intoxicating, yet so addictive, you couldn't get enough even if it killed you. Your hands go nowhere but to instinctively wrap them around her head, fingers possessively at the nape of her neck, letting your head tilt to create the perfect angle for Tara to deepen her assault inside your mouth.

It wasn't romantic, it wasn't delicate, it wasn't passionate. It was raw, filthy, messy, and sloppy. But who were you to care if you got to see Tara so eager to fuck the shit out of you?

She pulled away, her breathing becoming strained as a string of saliva unraveling themselves as your lips were far apart from hers, an aching sensation that you never wanted to happen. "Why were you flirting with her? In front of me?" Tara breathed out, her voice filled with desperation and want, husky but fuck did it make you clench around nothing.

"I wasn't—god," Your pathetic words turned into a moan when you felt Tara push her body against yours with force. You could feel her hard erection rub against your clothed clit, driving you wild, your hips bucking involuntarily to seek more friction than a simple bump of its head as you struggled to explain, "I didn't mean to."

Her nails dug into the soft and sweaty flesh of your ass, making you wince as she spoke, "You were practically fucking yourself onto her." Tara's words were harsh, but it made your cunt throb with wetness more than ever, clenching around nothing yet again. It took all of your self-control to not pull down everything she had and ride her dick until the insides of your pussy remembered her shape.

"I didn't… I didn't mean to, Tara, please," you stammered. You could feel saliva dripping from your mouth as your abused lips hung open, wanting nothing more than to let Tara inside. Or better yet, letting her cock drill into your mouth until it hits the back of your throat.

Her eyes bore into yours, making you feel like prey under her hands. It was rare to see Tara like this, and fuck it turned you on. "You liked her hands on you, didn't you? You even got her number." The sound of her voice terrified you, but it never overcame the excitement that shot through your spine, shivering as she tried to bring you closer to her, her mouth opened to take yours but you were never granted that.

"No—" You tried to find a voice when all you can do is whine, whimper, and moan whenever her throbbing cock was rubbing against your pussy and the tightening grip she had on your ass. "I don't want her, please," you whined, "I want you. Only you."

"Really, y/n?" Tara's breath caressed your skin, "Then let me fuck you against my bed so everyone in this apartment can hear how fucking good you take my cock. That alright with you, baby?" She purred, her grip on your ass tightening further as she guided both of you toward the bedroom. Her head leaned in, tracing lazy kisses along your jawline. It was crazy to think someone so small could have this much strength.

You nodded feverishly, a small mhm coming out, afraid that your words would just come out as a pathetic whine. Your hands remained on her shoulders as you allowed Tara to manhandle you toward the bed. The ache between your legs, combined with the throbbing need within your pussy, pleaded for her touch even more, wanting nothing but to let her dick plow into your dripping pussy until you couldn't take it.

Tara wasted no time in throwing you against the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a loud thud while her body was on top of yours, her cock pressed so fucking close against your pussy, the subtle friction making your hips buck in a desperate motion. Her hands went down your chest, tugging at the fabric that was the only barrier between her and your body.

"You know, she would've ripped it apart and fucked me so good right now."

You could tell that was the last straw for Tara.

In a heartbeat, Tara abandoned any hint of gentleness she had with you, ripping your blouse open with such force she almost tore it apart, eliciting a rather embarrassing wince from you.

The piece of unwanted fabric desperately clung near the edges of your shoulders, barely holding on as you felt her hands drop to your chest. Her fingers traced the curves of your body, the simple touch making your pussy throb with want yet again, reaching up to your breasts and then to your mouth, her thumb parting your lips as she ducked down to slip her tongue into yours.

Your hands flew to Tara's shorts, fingers frantically pulling the hem down along with her boxers, letting them slide down to Tara's hips as her throbbing cock sprang out, slapping against the fabric of her shirt. She was big. Probably the first and last monstrous cock you'd ever take.

"Tara…" you gasped, her name escaping your lips in a breathy moan as Tara pulled away. Her hands immediately found their way to your waist as her fingers worked to pull your own shorts down, mindlessly discarding them around somewhere, your wet cunt being exposed to the cold air and Tara's gaze.

"God, y/n, you're soaked," she whispered as she wrapped her fingers around her cock, stroking it up and down. Your slick gushing out on her mattress was one of the things that made her erection throb so damn painfully. She guided the head, coaxed with her own pre-cum, to your slick folds, parting them slowly. "Wanna fuck you so deep and let you forget about her entire existence," she breathrd out, her eyes watched yours in a haze with your mouth hung open.

"Tara fucking Carpenter, if you don't—FUCK!"

You cried out as you felt Tara shove her cock deep inside your tight pussy without warning, the sudden invasion making your folds stretch so damn good to accommodate her throbbing length, the pain mixed with pleasure making your head spin and your toes curl.

Tara's hands gripped your hips firmly, her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin to hold your body steady as she relentlessly kept sinking her huge cock into your heat.

Your body shuddered, making the perfect arch for Tara to penetrate your pussy even further as she leaned down, Tara, wait, you're too big, oh shit...!" You moaned, letting her bite and kiss every inch of her skin as you welcomed her, marking you as her own as if her dick wasn't claiming you right this second.

Tara continued fucking into you, ignoring how painful it was to be inside of you yet so satisfying seeing her dick disappearing and reappearing, your wet slick going nowhere but being used as a lube for her thick and girthy cock.

Her name continuously escaped your lips along with a moan, "...shit! Right there Tara, oh fuck!" You gasped, giving her the most pornographic moan she ever heard, the lewd repeated claps of your ass meeting her hips while she rammed her shaft inside you with disgruntled breaths and grunts.

"Take it, baby," she whispered, her voice husky as her hands slid under your thighs that instinctively encircled her body, "I know you can." She slowed her pace down, grabbing your legs and folding them onto your body then returned to her merciless pace, "Such a perfect mess for me." She grunted, her hips desperately rutting into your sex.

You moaned uncontrollably throughout her room, "So... so full, holy fuck," You groaned, throwing your head back in pure ecstasy, your fists clenching, your eyes rolling back and your toes curling beneath her as you writhed under her touch, wanting more even if your pussy was already stuffed to the brim with Tara.

Your arms reached out to her, fingers gripping her shoulders all while your body shook and squirmed underneath her, "Fuck me. Fuck me so hard, please, Tara!" You begged, tears starting to trickle down your eyes while immense pleasure washed over you, your voice reverberating as she dicked you down.

Tara's half-lidded eyes locked in with yours, pure lust evident in her eyes. No longer staring at your puffy folds, her mouth hung open, grunts escaping her soft lips with every forceful thrust.

"You want this, don't you?" Her mouth poured out words with every harsh thrust she gave you. Your mind couldn't work properly, let alone form any coherent sentences other than incoherent mumbling and needy whimpers of her name. "To make me fuck you senseless with my cock until your brain couldn't think of anything other than my dick."

It was clear she knew the answer, she just needed to hear it from you.

Your breath hitched, staring at Tara as if you'd pass out by how stretched you were under her, your throat unable to form words as it was caught between pathetic gasps and moans, your walls fluttering around her dick like it was your sole purpose to be her cock-warming slut and manhandled so good by her.

You couldn't focus on anything other than Tara. Tara, Tara, Tara, oh how her cock felt so good buried inside of you, how it kept hitting your cervix with every thrust, and how it was so fucking painful yet it sent shivers down your spine that made your back arch so naturally.

"Answer me," she rasped, her hands releasing the harsh grip on your thighs that were bound to leave a mark and letting them trail up your body until they reached your throat, her fingers wrapping around it with their possessive grip, her nails slightly grazing your skin that were already adorned with hickeys. "Don't tell me you're too drunk on my cock to think of anything else."

You couldn't handle it anymore, your airways constricting with each tightening grip Tara had on your throat. "Yes!" you screamed, "I need your dick so much, so badly, Tara, my God—!" You choked out, your muscles tensing as you felt a knot forming in your stomach, your cunt clenching around her cock

"So close, so close, soclosesoclose, 'm close, Tara, f-fuck!" you whimpered, your hands reaching over her shoulders, nails clawing against her chiseled back, leaving red marks along her body that were bound to scar.

You couldn't miss the subtle wince that went across Tara's face under your harsh touch. Even if you were so damn close to cumming around her dick, the relentless slam of her hips onto your skin taking a toll on your sense of awareness, you still took notice of the muted groan of pain leaving her lips amidst the struggling grunts and low moans she breathed out. Yet you could feel the undeniable twitch from her cock buried deep inside you out of pleasure.

"Why were you flirting with her?"

Tara cocked her head to the side, her voice still raspy and her breaths were hot and heavy. The pace of her thrusts slowed as she began to give deliberate and agonizing strokes with her dick as she toyed with you, her hips slowly thrusting inside of you so excruciatingly slow to the point you'd be better off at riding her cock until your cunt spasms so hard you couldn't cum anymore.

"I wasn't…" you panted desperately, the slow and deliberate movement of Tara's hips driving you insane. "I wasn't flirting… with… oh, fuck..!" You let out a guttural moan as you felt Tara pull out, almost to her tip, and slammed her cock back in your cervix with such force.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling while your mouth hung open to deliver a loud moan that echoed throughout, your back arching in response to her plowing her length inside of you once more.

Tara continued her relentless assault, though if not slower, your hands frantically going to your face, grabbing a handful of your hair as you subtly hid your face away from hers. Biting the flesh of your arm to hide the rather embarrassing and pathetic moans you kept producing.

"Who?" She leaned down, her hot yet soft lips giving you wet kisses all along your jaw as your muffled moans filled the room and her ears, "Who, baby?" she pressed all while your muffled whimpers filled the room, her hands going to your face and pulling your arms out of way. Her voice was soft, unlike the way she fucked you into insanity, acting as if she was the most innocent girl in the room.

"I don’t know.. I don’t know!" You sobbed, actual tears running down your face as Tara kept her tormenting pace. You couldn't think of anything anymore, let alone other people who are not Tara. Sentences just flowed out of you as if Tara controlled every inch of your brain. Your cunt soaked her dick with your wetness, the knot in your stomach tightening with every thrust.

"Please," you desperately pleaded, the words escaping with more neediness than you intended it to be. "Just, oh my god, let me cum!" You cried out as your body shook under her, ready for release, but you knew she wasn't going to give you that when she pulled out, a loud wince escaping your lips.

It took all your self-control not to pull her back with such force that her cock would immediately hit your cervix and you'd rut all over her until she was satisfied with you.

"Wha... Tara what the fuck!?"

You whined as you looked down, her dick still standing proudly at 7 inches with its thick girth, resting on her stomach, still hard and erect. So why the fuck did she pull out when you could've been on the verge of having the most jaw-dropping orgasm of your life.

The knot in your stomach eased slightly as Tara grabbed a handful of your hair, her head leaning down, "Here's what we're going to do, baby," she whispered against your lips, your need to slip your tongue into hers was just a fleeting thought.

Her dick twitched over your thigh, and you knew you looked like the hottest mess Tara had ever laid her eyes on, and the knowledge that your face looked like a fucked-up, cock-drunk, slut for Tara made your pussy throb.

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard against that glass window," she continued, her voice low and husky as you looked over, "until all of New York hears how you're such a pathetic and filthy whore for my dick." She raised her free hand to cup your cheeks, caressing the soft and red skin you had from sobbing your heart out. "Then you're going to thank me for letting you cum on my cock while screaming my name."

If you weren't crazy then, then you were definitely going crazy now. You looked at Tara, doe eyes and all.

"Do you hear me, y/n?" She demanded, and you dumbly nodded in response.

"Mmh, yeah, yes please," you whimpered, your voice so desperate and needy as you dropped to your knees, gazing up at Tara who was already standing up, your hands almost reaching to wrap around her cock if not for her hand slapping it away. It was unfair she was half-clothed while you looked like you got railed every second. "I'll do what you want, anything, just let me cum, Tara…"

"There's that good girl I know." Tara purred, her simple approval and praise making you wet as ever. Her hands found your shoulders, turning you around to face away from her as you obeyed her silent orders.

You gave her the best possible view of your back, a perfect arch as your head was off to the side, all while offering her a glimpse of your exposed pussy.

You could feel her hands trailing down your back as your head faced forward, your eyes dropping down to the mattress. With a firm grip, she grabbed both of your wrists, tying them together with her hand while her other arm traveled back to your shoulder.

With your hands bound behind you, Tara led you towards the window, forcefully pressing your face against the cold and hard surface, the windowpane flushed on your skin. You could see every apartment that surrounded Tara's, lights turned on and some turned off, some maybe even watching the both of you.

You wouldn't be lying if you said it turned you on so much.

Tara's body was pressed onto yours, gasping for solid air as you felt the hard length of her clock sliding against your ass, its slow movement teased every inch of your body as the pleasure shot up from your spine.

"You won't mind if I use your phone, right?" She asked while you wondered how the hell she even got your phone in the first place in this position. But you didn't mind.

You weren't above filming a little video for her, especially when it came to something like sex. In fact, you have a dedicated folder solely for those kinds of videos, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have a video of Tara screaming your name replaying in your head over and over as you fucked yourself to it.

And so, you nodded.

Oh, how you wished you hadn't.

Or rather, you wished you didn't immediately add the girls number in your contacts so quickly.

"Fucking hell," Tara murmured to herself which didn't go unnoticed by you. As well as the sounds of Tara dialing a number onto your phone.

Glancing over your shoulders, you found Tara standing right behind you. Her hand gripped her throbbing cock, teasing your slick folds while her gaze remained fixated on the ringing phone in her other hand.

"Tara, what are you—" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Tara shoved her cock deep inside you with a force that left you more than breathless, penetrating your pussy so good that left you gasping for air as you cried out her name.

"Oh, God! Tara—Shit, Tara!" You screamed, your head throwing back as your fingers gripped the wall, "feels s' good, f-fuck!," you cursed, a perfect arch making its way to your spine while Tara fucked your juices back inside of you.

Her cock fit perfectly inside you, almost as if it was already molded to the shape of her dick precisely. Every vein, and every twitch of her shaft inside of you felt so familiar. Her balls repeatedly slapped your clit by her relentless pace, driving you to the brink of insanity by the touch alone. Every pleasure you felt shot down onto your cunt, hot and so fucking intoxicating.

You wanted to push her away, to catch a breath and your abused folds catch a breath, yet bring her deeper into your body, wanting and craving her more and more.

It felt so good to the point you didn't notice the 'hello, y/n?' that came from your phone.

"Hold it." Tara commanded of you, her body leaning down to yours, bringing your phone closer to your ear.

You looked at her, wide-eyed. Your lips and mind tempted to moan out her name as she kept pounding her cock inside of you if not for the abrupt phone call. "Tara…" you whimpered, "Tara, I-I can't—" your voice barely audible before her hand covered your mouth, muffling your moans when she gave you a hard thrust.

The pleasure she's giving you by simply moving and her still dick filling you up send shivers down your spine, yet the voice coming from your phone won't stop talking.

You took over Tara's hand from the phone, putting it up to your ear as you spoke quietly. "Yeah—sorry, he—hey!" You stammered, attempting to even get a coherent thought over your clouded mind while Tara continued assaulting your puffy pussy, "who, oh fuck, is this?"

"I'm the girl at the party, Cady! You do remember, right?"

You don't, really. It's all a blur.

You gasped, your head turning to the side as you tried to muffle your noises as quietly as possible, "yeah, yeah, I remember. Why—why, are you calling?"

The girl on the line laughed, chuckling even, "you called me. I didn't expect getting a call so easily after that conversation."

Please stop talking, you wanted to say.

You could feel Tara's jealousy and anger through the way her hands gripped your waist, her other hand delivering a sharp slap to your ass.

"I… I probably was—I was drunk," you stuttered, struggling to find the right words as your head ducked down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call," you breathed out, biting your lip to prevent a single whimper coming out of you.

"Well, you did," she replied, her tone teasing, laughing even more, "But I'm glad you did. We can pick up where we left off, if you know what I mean," You knew there was a sultry tone to her voice, probably even winking across the phone. "Is there someone in your room? I thought I heard something crash."

Tara leaned down, her grip on your hips tighter than ever, planting wet and sloppy along your shoulders to your ear, "You wanna tell them how good I'm fucking you, baby?" She whispered huskily, innocently kissing your cheeks as if she wasn't teasing you with another person on the other line.

"Wanna tell her how fucking good it feels to have my cock buried deep inside you?" She thrusted, her arms going to your shoulders and pushing your body deeper inside of her, "Tell her how you're begging for more, how you couldn't get enough of my dick?"

You were so glad you moved the phone just an inch away.

"I, oh my God, uhm, Tara—Tara!" You screamed out, a broken moan escaping your lips, hiding it by the fact you were mentioning her name, "yeah, Tara's here. Carpenter. She's, well, joining me for a simple exercise," you managed to reply, your voice shaky.

"Didn't know you guys were close."

"Yeah, we...uh, got closer recently," you stammered while Tara continued her relentless assault on your tight cunt, her cock plunging deep inside you, "we—oh shit—she lives with me so, yeah!"

You could hear Tara laugh at the half-assed excuse, probably the most common ones in the book.

Cady laughed through the phone once more, "I didn't mean to interrupt anything by picking up the phone, did I?"

"Cady, it's… It's fine," you managed to gasp, your voice strained with pleasure as Tara's relentless thrusts kept pounding into you harder and faster if it was even possible. "Oh, fuck!" You couldn't help but moan loudly, yet accidentally, the phone still pressed to your ear, as Tara leaned down once more and took over the phone, bringing it close to her ear as she let you grip the walls with such immense tightness.

"I'm sure y/n will forget you in a matter of seconds after this," she purred, "especially when she's getting fucked so good by me." She turned the phone around, enabling video on, letting Cady see your ass bouncing along her cock, her dick disappearing deep inside you and your back arching in pure ecstasy, "I almost pity you on how you'll never feel the never-ending pleasure of her pussy clenching around you."

She hung up before a single scream shouted from the phone, throwing it on the bed, "'m gonna cum, Tara. Baby, I'm gonna cum, Shit, shit,shitshitshitshitshit!"

Your body tensed, a knot forming in your lower abdomen as you cried out her name like a prayer, begging for a desperate release of being denied just moments ago. You could feel her hands gripping your hips even tighter, her grunts and little moans escaping her lips only drove you more into an orgasm,

Your moans filled the room, mixing with Tara's own gasps and the sound of skin slapping against skin, your wetness coating her dick. "Cum on me baby," she whispered, her fingers running across your hair as she threw your head back, "don't forget to do what I said."

"Tara! Oh, fuck, that feels so good!" Your walls clenched around her cock, your body trembling while you felt Tara's own climax shoot ropes of cum deep inside of you as she held you close, her arms wrapped around you as she came, "thank you..." You murmured, crying out, "thank you, baby, fuck your cock still feels so good inside me..."

The intense grip you had on the glass faltered, your legs giving way as you collapsed against the window, your body still shaking and your pussy tightening against Tara's twitching cock while you waited for her to empty her load inside of you, her hips still bucking while she caressed your skin, leaving a trail of kisses and words of affection down your neck.

"I love you..." she whispered against your skin, "you're gorgeous," she kissed, "such a good girl, y/n."

You nodded weakly, a smile covering your lips as you slid down the glass wall as Tara gently turned you around, planting a tender kiss on your lips.

"My pretty girl," Tara called out, softness in her voice while she tucking a loose strand behind your ear and wiping the tears away, "you did so well."

Tara cupped your cheek, all too evident that you were tired and exhausted, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin as she stared into your eyes. It was all too beautiful for Tara.

You started to wrap your arms on her shoulders, pulling her close while she laughs"I'll carry you to the bathroom, mkay? I'll draw you a bath and we can cuddle there."

You were too tired out to say or think of anything, so you opted with a nod.

Tara chuckled softly in your response, scooping you up in her oddly strong arms as she carried you to the bathroom, her touch now soft and comforting instead of harsh and cruel.

You didn't think the afterparty would turn out like this, but you were grateful it did.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

aftermath bonus:

Y: "are you still mad at me?" T: *shrug* "lost it within the three seconds we started making out" Y: "what the fuck tara?!"

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a/n: tara is the size of two apples tall (give or take), every possible bone in her body is fractured, probably losing blood by the minute, her shoesize is probably smaller than a rats AND the girl has asthma. it almost felt wrong writing her like this. off topic but i wished tumblr had a like comment thing for people like me that for some reason is too scared and shy to reply to you guys. I REALLY APPRECIATE THE COMMENTS, TRULY!! THEY MAKE MY DAY SM BETTER

#tara carpenter x female reader #tara carpenter smut #tara carpenter x fem reader #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader smut #tara carpenter #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega

724 notes · View notes

hoshifighting · 5 months

Note

hihi!!

the urge to be brat tamed runs through my mind all day. but cheol taming his brat, SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!!!

covering your mouth and his veiny hands around your neck so your porn-like moans aren’t heard by his members.

making you suck his fingers and using your saliva as lube.

slapping you every time you moan a little to loud.

cum denial until the point where you’re literally screaming his name as if it’s your sole vocabulary begging him to let you cum while tears run down your fucked out face.

— the list goes on but here’s just a few to get a feel for!!

(literally love your posts sooooo much!!! keep up the good work ❤️)

BRAT-TAMER SEUNGCHEOL that's it.

Where Seungcheol gets jealous because his friend Jeongha, is all over you, even though your relationship is private, Seungcheol gets mad at your brat teasing. So he fucks you without mercy, separated by just one room from the members.

Word Count: 1.7k

Jealous dom! Seungcheol, Brat sub! Reader

Warnings: Smut, jealously sex, cum denial, slut shamming, begging, degradation, crying, angst, saliva as lube, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, bathroom sex, ass slapping, face slapping, chocking and etc.

The weekend getaway with Seungcheol and your friends had started out as a much-needed break. His friends were always very nice to you, and soon they became your friends too. The idea of renting a house for this period of rest sounded very pleasant. Everyone laughed, danced and sang, while you, Jeonghan and Mingyu cooked for the group.

As the day unfolded, you noticed Seungcheol's subtle glances whenever Jeonghan was around. Unbeknownst to your friends, your relationship with Seungcheol was still a secret, and the protective side of him was on full display.

Jeonghan pulled you into a hug, the kind that lasted just a tad too long, and a conversation that seemed a bit too personal. Seungcheol's reaction was swift, though subtle. His jaw clenched, and his eyebrows furrowed as he observed the scene. He couldn't shake off the unease that gripped him.

As Jeonghan continued to chat with you, Seungcheol's discomfort became more evident. Sensing something amiss, you looked at him and asked, "Hey, everything okay?" He nodded, but his locked jaw and the intensity in his gaze told a different story.

Before the tension could escalate, Jeonghan, with his ever-present charisma, pulled you away to join another conversation. You shot a puzzled glance at Seungcheol, but he merely nodded again, though this time, there was a palpable tension in the air.

Seungcheol couldn't take it any longer. He grabbed your arm gently, pulling you aside towards a nearby bathroom. Once inside, he closed the door behind him, his expression unreadable.

"What's going on, Seungcheol?"

"You're mine for now," he declared, his voice low and possessive. His eyes bore into yours, a mixture of frustration and desire. "I can't stand seeing him all over you like that," he admitted, his voice low but intense.

A mischievous grin played on your lips as you locked eyes with Seungcheol, your fingers gently tracing circles on his arm. "Well, someone seems a bit possessive," you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Seungcheol's expression shifted to confusion, and he arched a thick eyebrow in response. His veins pulsed on his neck, a subtle display of the building anger beneath the surface.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his tone irritated

You chuckled, enjoying the playful banter. "You know, claiming me in the bathroom like that. It's almost like you want to tell the world we're together."

His eyes narrowed, the tension in his shoulders rising. "I never said that," he retorted, the veins on his neck more prominent now.

Leaning in, you whispered teasingly, "Maybe you just can't resist showing off your amazing girlfriend."

Seungcheol's jaw clenched, his frustration evident. "You're making it sound like I'm the one holding us back from going public.”

You couldn't resist pushing his buttons further. With a sly smile, you mimicked his serious expression, contorting your face into a comical version of his furrowed brows and arched eyebrow.

His eyes widened in disbelief. Before he could react, he lost his mind momentarily.

He pushed your body against the bathroom wall, a firm grip around your neck, while his lips brushed against yours. In the close proximity, he warned with a husky voice, "You're loosing your mind Y/N."

“Am I?” You couldn't help but laugh, the cut air from the choking making you gasp.

Seungcheol's grip tightened slightly, his lips hovering near yours. "You find this cool?" he questioned.

His eyes seemed to glow red furiously. The air grew thick as he sucked his teeth, not a hint of a smile on his face.

Before you could gauge his next move, he reached out, his fingers gripping the fabric of your sun dress. In one swift motion, he pulled you closer, the dress bunching up slightly.

With your dress in his hands, he pulls it up, revealing your panties, so he pulls them down hard, the lacy fabric immediately tearing in his hands. You gasp, denying to yourself "I didn't even like that one anyway..." Lie. It was your favorite.

His breath was strong against your face as he whispered, "You're mine, and I don't share.”

The possessiveness in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but moan, feeling the wetness between your thighs.

"I'm gonna give you a lesson." Without breaking eye contact, he reached out, gently guiding your chin upward. His fingers traced along your jawline before he leaned in, whispering, "You need to learn who you belong to.”

His fingers traced a path along your lower lip, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. Without breaking eye contact, he slowly trailed his digits over your tongue, the intimate contact making your saliva envelop his skin.

You looked in his eyes, before sucking his two fingers, just like you would suck his cock. So he slowly pulled his fingers, making your lower lips flip back shiny with your saliva.

His wet fingers circled your clit slowly, making you hold onto him, his eyes burning you "You're such a brat," he remarked, the edge of amusement evident in his voice.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you shot back, "Well, maybe I like being a brat."

He chuckled, the tension dissipating into a teasing energy. "Do you now?" he asked, arching an eyebrow. His tone held a challenge as he continued, "Tell me, what's the appeal of being a brat, hm?"

You leaned in, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "Maybe I enjoy seeing you lose your cool. It's kind of hot, you know?"

Without warning, he pushed his two fingers inside of you, making you groan. He curled his digits perfectly while his body pressed yours on the bathroom tiles, you looked to the mirror on your side, his big biceps flexing as he worked his skillfully fingers inside of you.

Your weeping cunt can be heard by him, the gushing sound hitting his senses as his fingers get wetter every second. "Look at you… So wet for me, and I didn't even started to fuck you."

"I get wet just by thinking about you getting mad."

"Yeah? Just to let you know… I am pissed off."

Without warning, he pushed your body, and you felt the cold tiles of the bathroom wall against your cheek. His strong grip held you in place, and the sudden shift left you breathless.

The sound of his belt being unbuckled echoed in the small space, you could sense Seungcheol's controlled anger. The forceful push of his big cock inside of your pussy, made you moan loud.

Before the sound could fully echo, Seungcheol's veiny hands covered your mouth, suppressing any further noise. Your eyes met his in the mirror, and your body ached against his, caught between the cold tiles and the heat radiating from Seungcheol.

He stopped his hips, his tip hitting your cervix, before taking everything out and slamming all in once inside of you again, his hands once again muffling a scream. "S-Seungcheol!"

Seungcheol gives you a harsh spank, making your body tremble, eyes closed tightly. Allowing you to take another breath, he takes his hand off your mouth. His voice, low and intense, broke the momentary silence. "You don't want the members to hear us, right?"

You can feel your walls clenching around his cock, sensing the know on your stomach wanting to be free, making him groan in response. The spongy little spot being abused with the strength of his dick knocking you.

Tears trickle down your face, your lip being bitten by yourself wasn't helping too much, as you feel your orgasm getting closer, the whimpering turning into moans, that turned into screams again.

Everytime you let out a moan escape, he gives you harsh slaps on the meat of your ass, the flesh turning red, as the skin burns like hell. "Be quiet," he instructed, his gaze locking onto yours in the mirror. His question lingered, "Is that what you want? Everyone to hear how good I am fucking you?"

Your gaze met Seungcheol's reflected eyes in the mirror, nodding yes, with a mischievous smile. Seungcheol's eyes held satisfaction, and the synchronized rhythm of his thrusts continued.

Seungcheol groaned in your ear, your weeping cunt tightening around him, and he could feel your walls milking his dick, as your world spinned, the moans leaving your throat non-stop, and he slapped you each time.

When entered on the brink of an orgasm, he pulled out his wet cock, making you whine between his grip and the wall. The denying made you sob, your clit begged attention, and your poor pussy was a mess.

Seungcheol coos at you "Slut… Can't even endure your own provocations…" his fingers wiped your tears away, before giving you a slap on the side of your cheek.

"P-please let me c-um" You begged, the tears shining with the bathroom light.

"Beg that prettily for me again."

"Please Seungcheol, I am f-ucking begging you babe." Your head lays on his shoulder.

He pushed his cock effortlessly inside of you again making you scream his name, your throat barely having power to speak. His fingers search to your sopping folds, collecting your arousal to masturbate your clit fast. And if it wasn't his tight grip on you, your knees would've found the ground already.

Seungcheol hips start to stutter, the rhythm becoming inconsistent, as a wet white ring forms around the base of his cock. His groans became more whiny, and his fingers followed a crazy unstopping pace. You struggled to breathe properly because you're more and more pressed on the wall with each thrust of him. Making your moans follow the same pace of his strokes.

"Oh my god! Please, please, pl-ease…" The begging sounded infinite as he fucked you merciless.

You're too fucked out to process anything, or hold your moans, suddently your head feels dizzy as your knees trembled, your mouth hanging open and you could only manage silent moans. The orgasm comes harshly, making you whine shakily.

His swollen cock throbs against your walls and he whimpered, with a trembling high, Seungcheol painted your walls white, the sticky cum dripping as his hips strokes lazily, his hands softening his grip on you.

"You know, I think it's time I tell the members that you're my girlfriend."

You scoffed, a playful smile tugging at your lips. "After all of that, I think they probably already know, Seungcheol."

623 notes · View notes

fairysluna · 1 year

Text

a dragon's fury.

Once you found out that your beloved husband was wounded in battle, the dragon within you comes to light, and you're eager to help him during these war times.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING – Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

TAGS/TW – fluff, a bit of angst, hurt/comfort, winterfell is at war with the wildlings, the greens won, dilf!cregan, cursing, mentions of murder, mentions of blood and wounds. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE – this is the 4th part of my Cregan x Targ!Reader stories, but it can be read as a standalone too. People have ask for it and I'm here to provide.🤗🤍

WORD COUNT – 2.7k

FEEDBACK, SHARES AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!!

"Lord Stark has been wounded in battle."

Your eyes immediately left your son’s shape and reached the guard in front of you. Your softened haze soon turned into one filled with worry and fear, rage even. You carefully removed Lysara from your arms and stood up from the fur carpet beneath you. With your now shaky hands you fixed your thick dress before sighing deeply, trying not to raise any alarm to Rickon, who was already old enough to understand what those words could possibly mean.

“Where is he?” You asked. Your usual sweet and charming tone was now replaced by the hardness, stern words which demanded an immediate answer.

“He's in his bedchambers being attended by the Maesters,” the guard informed, to which you only managed to nod.

“How bad is it?” Those words came out as a whisper as you grabbed his arm and started to walk away from the children, so they would not hear.

“Lord Stark is conscious, though some of his wounds are quite deep according to what the Maesters had said,” He replied with the same low tone as you, noticing your intentions.

Your hand went to your belly, trying to find some comfort in it before you realized it was now empty. Your sweet boy had been born just a few weeks ago; Elion Stark. A beautiful babe that was now sleeping in the crib, right next to a white dragon egg, a gift from your brother King Aegon. You looked at the crib where your son was peacefully resting, and after you made sure he was alright you wiped the sweat of your hands on the fabric of your dress. Before you could even notice it, your legs were taking you out of the nursery room and towards your husband’s chambers.

Each step made your heart beat faster, the overwhelming sound of it making your ears buzz and your breathing to tremble. Your loyal guard was walking behind you, following your quick steps with his hand on the hilt of his sword, his guard up just in case you would find some intruders in your way. The war with the free folk had left Winterfell as a target for your foes, leaving you and your children exposed to the danger and risks that this war entails.

You have learnt how to live without fear after being raised with a dragon by your side, you also knew that your children, including Rickon, will be shielded by the same beast that brought you comfort and protection when you were their age… but Cregan was another story. The stubborn man would reject that much needed protection, leaving him exposed to any risk that may come his way; and as consequence, you would spend your days sitting in the nursery room with your babes, praying to Seven for the well being of your beloved husband.

But you decided it was enough once you crossed the wooden door that separated the halls with the chamber that you shared with Cregan, and saw how the maids and Maesters were running from one side of the room to another while your harmed husband was staining the white sheets of the bed with his crimson blood. Your eyes shifted with the purest of terror at the scene, and your nose started to itch as a sign of the upcoming tears that were threatening to escape your eyes. You stood there, right in the door frame, looking horrified at the scene in front of you and holding the handle of the door with such a strength that your knuckles turned white.

Your lower lip quivered as you slowly stepped inside the room, your hand pressing against your chest, which was moving rapidly and unsteadily. A maid was the one who first noticed your presence and bowed before you, staring at you with frightened eyes. You came to wonder which expression was the one on your face for her to have such a reaction.

The silence ruled over the room once they noticed your presence. They all bowed and stepped back, leaving you a path to follow towards your husband's bed. You managed to see his bare chest covered in bruises, a deep cut in his left arm and his gorgeous face swollen with violet stains and cuts that were still dripping blood. His left eye was now red, the gray color you so dearly loved was now replaced by the crimson tint that you so deeply hated to see on him.

Cregan saw you, and he took a deep breath that seemed to have hurt, for his expression furrowed with the signs of the immense pain he was suffering. Your eyes were clouded by tears, your heart aching at the sight. It was unbearable.

"My love," you whispered softly as you walked closely. "Who- who did-" you were unable to keep talking, for your voice broke in mid sentence as your soft hands fell gently on his chest. You felt his hand covering yours, he squeezed it three times and you lifted your face to see his. A little smile appeared on his face, as if he was trying to make you know that he was fine; but you were not blind, he was obviously not fine at all. "Who. did. this?" You spoke again, this time swallowing your sobs and using a more demanding tone.

"My princess," he weakly muttered, "no need to worry, I'm fine-"

"Cregan, I am not playing right now. Who did this?"

His eyes squinted with the unusual pronunciation of his name from your lips. You used to save it for two different occasions; for those which were filled with lust, or for those in which your inner dragon was about to spit fire. "My love-" he tried to excuse himself again.

"Who did this?" You insisted, starting to feel the worry leaving you and being replaced with anger. "Tell me the truth."

He looked around the room, observing the servants and Maester eavesdropping the conversation without trying to hide it at all. You pressed your lips with discontent as you noticed this, and you quickly stood up straight. "Out," you demanded of them, but no one moved. This only made you frown, increasing the anger in you. "All of you, out!" You repeated.

"My princess, our Lord requires our attention," a Maester said to you. Your jaw clenched at the defiance. "His state is-"

"I know what his state is, do you think I do not have eyes to see how my husband is harmed?!" Your voice rising as your cheeks turned red with fury. The middle aged man in front of you shrank in his position after he received your words. "Now get out, but stay around. I will call for all of you once we're finished. Now!"

You saw hesitation in his eyes, but the man simply nodded and with a small gesture he took all of the people out of the room. They quietly left the chambers as you shared stares with your husband. He looked up at you with those gray, puppy eyes, as if he had done something wrong and he was expecting you to scold him anytime now. He looked defenseless.

Only when the door was closed, you said, "Spit it out."

"It was a giant," he confessed, as quickly as you finished pronouncing your words.

"A giant?" You repeated, incredulously.

"I was fighting against the wildlings and this giant came to me out of nowhere…" He took a brief pause, shifting his position to a more comfortable one. You could see in his expression how it pained him to move, and you felt your heart break after seeing him in such a state." Last thing I knew I was flying across the field and landing on the rocks covered by the snow."

"You dumb, tall child," you muttered as you sat next to him. He immediately reached for your hand once again.

"For a moment I thought I was about to die," he confessed, "my mind played a memory of your laughter and I could've sworn I entered the heavens." You almost blush at his charming words, feeling the warmth of his love filling your heart with joy once again. "But then, I got really scared, my love, because I thought, for an instant, that I was leaving you behind… that our pups would've grown without his father, and that our Elion would've not known how to recognise my face."

And just like that, it was as if he was storytelling your worst nightmare; something that you were unable to think without shedding tears. The mere thought broke your soul into pieces. "But you are here," you whispered as you leaned to touch his face, "the gods had brought you back to my arms, because they know I cannot live without you." You grabbed a small bowl on the nightstand which was filled with water, and with a small cloth you started to wipe the blood out of his face. "You have no excuses now, I'm coming with you next time."

"Are you insane?" He quickly said. "Look what they did to me!"

"I would be riding my dragon, love… patrolling the skies so no other being can hurt you again," you spst with rage. "Look at you! They almost took you away from me, I will not allow this to happen again."

"My love-"

"I will not accept defiance from you, husband. I will burn them all, all those savages will die screaming for what they did to you," your voice broke mid sentence as tears streamed down your face. Cregan carefully stretched his arm to cupped your cheek, your immediate response was to lean towards his touch. "You forbade my participation in this war because I was carrying our child, but now I'm prepared enough to fight, and I will call my brothers, they will-"

"Do not," he stopped you, "there's no need."

You frowned, shaking your head. Your stern look was enough to make your husband know that you were disagreeing with him. No words needed, he knew you too well.

"You cannot," he muttered.

"Winterfell is my home now, the place where my children were born… the place when I married the love of my life. It is my duty as Lady Stark to protect it."

"I will not allow it," he shook his head. "I refuse to put your life at risk. Our children need their mother."

"As well as they need their father," you added. Cregan haze softened and his jaw was unclenched. He sighed, tired, hurted, but you did not bend to his words, you were firm in your decision. "Ten years ago we made a pact; you fulfilled your part of the deal by taking your tropes and your bannermen to secure my brother's claim. Aegon is king because of you, my family is alive because of what you and your men did," you reminded him. "It is time for us to return the favor. We got married because of this alliance, remember?"

"We got married because I fell in love with you the instant you arrived in your dragon," he confessed. You leaned back, a bit incredulous.

"You're a liar," you accused him.

"I swear I'm telling no lies, my beautiful princess," he smiled softly, still showing signs of his pain. The hand that was holding your face shifted its position to let his thumb wipe your tears. He scoffed after seeing your expression. "What? Did you really think I would let myself be seduced so easily?" You blushed, remembering the boldness in your attitude on the day of your first encounter. "I let myself go because you were something I just could not resist. You're my greatest weakness, my love, and for that exact same reason I cannot put you at risk."

"I can't let you come back out there alone, not when I have a dragon to protect you. Not when this happened."

"Please…"

"I love you, Cregan," you interrupted him, "and I cannot make it without you. I'm begging you, let me help you… allow me to call my brothers, they will be here within days."

"But-"

"No," you shook your head, "no buts. Let me protect our home, let me fight for it. Together we make a marvelous team, my love… we will win this just if we are together." You got closer to him, close enough to press your forehead against his. The blood of his wounds stained your skin but you did not seem to care, you needed to feel him close. "I don't care if I have to fly my dragon across the Wall, as long as I kill every single one of those who harmed you." You whispered your words, Cregan could taste the rage in them.

Your hands were caressing his wounded face as he moved his chin up in order to reach your lips in a tender and soft kiss. You felt the drops of blood coming out of the cut in his lip and being spreaded against yours. You could not care less.

"Promise me something," he whispered, your eyes remaining closed. "promise me that as soon as you feel something is wrong you will return here…"

You frowned, pulling away from him and opening your eyes. A confused look in them as you said, "and leaving you behind? No way."

"Y/n…" He sighed.

"No, I will not leave you there, Cregan," you shook your head. "As soon as I feel like something is wrong I will make you get up on my dragon and i will fly away with you."

"No, it's too risky."

"I do not care!" You grab his face, softly to not hurt him but strong enough to force him to look at you. "I will be by your side until death do us apart, get used to it. I will not abandon you, no fucking way. So either you accept this, or I will go to ride my dragon and kill them all, without you."

He knew you meant it. He knew your words were not lacking sincerity. He knew you too well. A small nod was all you needed to let go of the air contained in your lungs. He had accepted, making you feel some kind of relief. He was too tired to keep fighting against your ideals, and some part of him knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would not change your mind.

"Send ravens to your brothers, my love," he said. "I'll send them to my bannermen."

"Okay…" you whispered, leaning forward just to press a gentle kiss on his forehead. "I will."

You stroke his brown thick hair before straightening up and attempt to walk out of the room. He held your hand, however, making you stop before you could move away. You turned to look at him, and Cregan smiled.

"I'm so in love with you, my little princess," he murmured. "My little dragon."

You felt the warmth in your cheeks as you pressed your lips to repress a silly smile. You had been married for more than ten years, and you still feel like a maiden being courted every time he would say those things to you. Your heart jumping out of excitement, making you forget all the problems that existed on the other side of the door. You allowed yourself to soften your hard demeanor, just for a few seconds, and only for him to see.

"We're going to protect our home," you said, "we're going to bring peace to our children's future… I promise you that."

"I know," he nodded.

A small silence was present afterwards, but it was quickly interrupted by your words, "I love you."

Cregan smiled.

"And I love you too."

You kissed his hand before letting him go. Walking towards the door and allowing the Maesters and the maids to come inside to attend your husband once again.

You gave one last look inside the room, and once again your hand fell on your belly out of habit. As the door closed, your facade became hard and stern. Your jaw clenched as your haze became one full of anger and hate; you asked for forgiveness to the gods, for you promised to yourself you were going to make all those savages scream in agony for what they had done to your sweet husband.

You were going to make sure of that.

BOLD MEANS I COULDN’T TAG YOU

GENERAL TAG LIST - @borikenlove @aemondsversion @jvpit3rs @watercolorskyy @kravitzwhore @valeskafics @clairacassidy @aemondx @randomdragonfires @theminesofmoria @gothtargaryen

CREGAN TAG LIST - @melsunshine @satansdarlin @aelora-a @hb8301 @lovelykhaleesiii @xfancyuu @megatardisbaby

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savannahsdeath · 9 months

Note

hii i love ur stories, and i was wondering if you could do a one-shot where ellie won't admit it, but she LOVES being a sub and just listening to you 🫣

SUB!TOP!ELLIE WILLIAMS X READER

mdni please<3

warnings: 18+!! sub!top!ellie, oblivious!reader, making out, a liiiitttleee of thigh reading, js smut

writers note: im a sucker for dom!ellie but my first req was sub!ellie and now it just has a separate place in my brain.. yeah, i need both. switch!ellie lover i guess💪💪 also this ones sub!top!ellie because im soooo in love w her like awshhzhsv

you always saw ellie as the firm, rough and confident one. as the 'don't tell me what to do' one. and definitely the straight-forward one. you wouldn't even think it's the complete otherwise, especially not while grinding on her lap. your lips were connected for a few minutes now, and everytime you pulled away to catch your breath a line of saliva built a bridge between you. you were needy, ellie desperate and the whole situation really messy. quite a combo.

"ellie..." you whined after freeing your tongue.

she pulled you back into her, holding onto the back of your neck. "what is it, doll?"

"mhh-" a week sound escaped your mouth, as you struggled to calm down and not act as if you just ran a marathon (because you didn't, of course, but that's how you felt). "touch me..."

you didn't realize she kept her hands only on your head because she was shy. you never thought she could be shy at all. your request, though, awakened something in her. she hungrily slid her slim fingers beneath your shirt, where they rubbed soothing shapes into your skin.

"like that?" she laughed, or at least you guessed she did, because the sensations made it hard for you to tell.

your answer was a one word, but a keyword. "more."

with that, her hands unfastened your bra and threw it somewhere on the ground. she turned you around, making you lean your back on her chest. your shirt covered the scene - her playing with your hard nipples, that didn't feel so sensitive until now. her hair fell on your face, slightly covering it, as she bowed her head to kiss your neck. your pussy sent a needy impulse through the rest of your body, signaling you this is what you needed, before the pulsating changed it's message to a 'not enough'. ellie seemed to notice it, and one of her hands untied the knot of your cute pyjama-shorts. the elastic at your hips widened to make room for her hand, and it carefully slipped underneath the waistband, though stayed on top of your underwear. she followed the wet path with her middle finger, arriving to it's source. she didn't put any pressure onto your body, leaving you unsatisfied.

"please- please, do it." you nodded, fighting the urge to press her hand towards you.

she was more than happy to do it, her hand avoiding now also your panties and making contact with your bare body. you shuddered at the coldness she brought with her, but things quickly got heated.

your head found support in her shoulder, resting on it, as her pointing finger rubbed your clit and the next two lazily waited at your entrance, collecting everything that came out of it.

"do you want me to do it?" she asked. it wasn't the taunting, teasing, playful tone. it was a concerned, shy and hesitating one. one you weren't used to hear from her.

you frowned, wiping your wet, drooled mouth with the palm of your hand. "are you... really asking me that?" you wanted to add '...or am i dreaming?' but that was too much for you now, and your throat refused to work.

"i only want to do things you want me to do." she whispered, sounding almost ashamed about admitting that.

she continued the trail of sappy little kissed on your neck, somewhere where the vocal cords are, and you thought that's the main reason they're not working.

you couldn't hide your surprise but stayed quiet, though not really by choice. she thanked god you couldn't feel her own wet spot, which was probably bigger than yours and still growing each time you asked her to do something for you. even if your commands weren't out of your dominance, even if you had no idea how they turn her on, she only waited for you to ask for more, or less, anything would satisfy her, as long as she can satisfy you.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #reqs open #ellie the last of us #wlw smut #ellie williams smut #ellie smut #sub!top!ellie williams #sub!top!ellie #sub!top!ellie x reader #top!sub!ellie williams #top!sub!ellie x reader #sub!ellie #sub!ellie williams

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talaok · 1 year

Note

can you write actress!reader and their daughter visiting pedro on set or pedro coming back home and surprising his daughter after being away filming please

i just love dad!pedro fluff

Warnings: surprisingly a touch of angst but really just a pinch I promise

“Hi,” you smiled, greeting Craig “Thank you for doing this”

“Of course” he reassured you “he talks about you all the time anyways, and… this way he’ll probably want to get scenes right, right away so it’s a win-win” he joked, making you chuckle.

Suddenly, you felt a tug at your hand.

“Sweetie, say hi”

Your daughter looked up at Craig, her dad’s big brown eyes cute as ever.

“Hi,” she waved, or at least tried to, wave at him.

“Hi there honey, you’re bigger each time I see you”

“‘S not true, I’m always the same,” she said between giggles

“Oh no you’re growing my friend,” he said, crouching down to her level “Next thing I know you’ll be taller than me”

“But that’s impossible“ she laughed

“We’ll see” Craig teased, getting back up to you.

“We should go”

__ __ __

"Heard that sweetie? we have to be real quiet now" You whispered as Craig led you onto the set

"Can you do that?"

She nodded, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself, she would have never been this obedient if not for what she knew was about to come.

"Here" Craig murmured as he closed a heavy white door behind you "We should almost be done with the scene"

You followed him until he stopped right in front of a little screen that showed what the camera was filming.

The scene had already started, and it followed Pedro as he walked around a makeshift apartment.

He had sent you pictures of him in character before, but seeing him in real life was much different.

They had made streaks of his hair and beard white, and he was wearing a black and green flannel that looked approximately a hundred years old.

You liked this rough look, he didn't believe you when you first told him, but seeing him now only made you more sure. He looked hot, and you made a mental note to tell him later.

Your daughter's hand was still gripping yours, but her eyes were wide with amazement as she watched her own daddy at work.

She had been down the whole day. It was a beautiful sunny Saturday and no matter what you tried to do with her, read her her favorite stories, bring her to the park, make the swing fly real high like she begged you do to each time... nothing worked, and only once you set her down to talk, she had confessed what was wrong all along.

She missed her dad.

You already had half a mind that's what it was, but you weren't sure, and when she finally told you, you felt your chest warm a bit.

Of course she did, just as you did,

Pedro had been really busy with this project, and he tried to be home as much as possible, God knows how much it pained him too, but today was Saturday, and he usually never worked on weekends, and as much as your daughter was used to not seeing much of him during the week, they used to spend every waking moment together on Saturdays and Sundays, and she didn't like the change of routine, not one bit.

The recalling of your morning was suddenly interrupted by a loud "Cut!"

The silence that filled the air before was gone in a second, as seemingly everyone rushed on set.

"You wanna go again?" Pedro asked who you assumed was the director.

"no we got it, it was perfect"

"great" Pedro smiled, starting to walk off the set, but the moment he did, something caught his attention.

"Daddy!"

You glanced beneath you, and to your amusement, your daughter wasn't there, instead, she was running towards your husband.

“What?" Pedro's eyes widened, but he wasted no time crouching down to catch her as she ran right into his arms "Peach?" he asked, hugging her tight while standing up.

"Hi" you smiled walking up to them

"Sweetheart!? what is happening?" he said, beaming

You shrugged, caging a grin between your teeth "We missed you"

And at that, he had to pause, his glimmering eyes glancing between the two loves of his life.

"I missed you so much Daddy!" your daughter joined, her pigtails hitting Pedro's cheek as she hid her face between his shoulder and neck.

"I missed you too angel" he promised, stroking her back and kissing her hair "Missed you a lot" You took a step closer, taking his free hand in yours and placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

"hi," you repeated yourself in a quiet whisper

"Hi" he smiled, kissing you again

"Hey!" your daughter suddenly interrupted, making both of you chuckle.

"sorry baby" you excused yourself, leaning away "he's all yours"

She made a satisfied sound before her eyes started attentively examing Pedro's face.

"you look old" she stated, making you snort.

Pedro feigned a gasp, clearly stifling a smile "What did you just say to me?"

Your daughter giggled “you look old, daddy”

“I can’t believe this! You don’t see me for a day and already think I look old!?”

“Your hair is white!” she laughed pointing at them.

“I can't believe this!” he kept up his farce, obviously entertaining her “I’ve always looked like this! Since when do you not like my hair?”

“‘S not true” she shook her head, still chuckling ” This is not your hair”

“It sure is”

”No it's not, you have brown hair like me daddy!” She protested ”tell him mommy!” She called for your help, turning to you.

”You’re right baby” you reassured her

”See? Mommy says I’m right”

”Alright, alright, you caught me” Pedro smiled, giving up ” You’re too smart angel” he kissed her cheek, starting to walk towards some chairs off the set.

Your daughter stayed gripped around him like her life depended on it even as he sat down.

”so did you have fun today?” he asked, setting her on his knees.

“Me and Mommy went to the park”

“That’s nice” Pedro smiled, stroking her hair.

“I wanted you to be there” she suddenly pouted, and you saw the look in your husband’s eyes. You saw how much those words affected him, how much they pained him.

“I know” he said “I’m sorry”

“I’ll make it up to you sweetie”

“How?” she asked, with that sassy tone she had recently discovered.

“Tomorrow, we’ll do whatever you want”

“Anything?” her eyes sparked with mischief

“Anything, peach” he promised seconds before she nestled into his chest again, hugging him even tighter.

— — —

In just twenty minutes, your daughter's soft snores started making their way to your ears.

You smiled, watching her sleeping so peacefully on her daddy’s shoulder.

“You spoil her too much” you teased, your fingers gently playing with Pedro’s ones as you set beside him.

“How could I not, have you seen her?” He whispered, still petting her hair.

A familiar smile spread on your face, but before you could fully take it in, a small sigh fled your lips.

“She misses you, Pedro,” you said, your eyes finding his, and in them, a somber understanding.

He already knew. And it destroyed him every day.

“I miss you” you added with a small frown.

He turned his palm to hold your hand, a small gesture, a small -I’m here-

“I know” he spoke after a brief moment “I miss you too”

You nodded, a quiet understanding passing between you.

“I’ll never work on weekends again,” he said

“Pedro that’s not in your control” You shook your head

“I don’t care, I’ll stand my ground” he murmured, his thumb drawing patterns on your hand “I can’t go on like this sweetheart, I want to be there for you, for both of you, and I’m tired of not doing that, I’m tired of missing you all-day baby” he whispered, frustration tracing his words.

You rested your head on his shoulder, a small -I’m here- of your own.

“I know” you spoke, softly rutting your head against his shoulder “It’ll be alright, we’ll find a way”

“Thank you for doing this” he murmured, feeling like the luckiest man in the world sitting between you “I love you”

“I love you too baby” you smiled, leaning up to give him a quick kiss.

And immediately, even if still asleep, your daughter's small arms tightened around his neck possessively, a small “daddy” escaping her lips.

You chuckled, as Pedro absolutely melted at the image

“She’s such a daddy’s girl”

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ghcstao3 · 5 months

Note

siren ghost and sailor soap?

sort of inspired by the pirates of the caribbean sirens scene because it’s one of my favourite things of that series. also i got a little carried away

Over the many, many years of traversing the Seven Seas for his life’s work, Soap has become intimately familiar with the abundant myths and legends about the ocean and what lies beneath.

Of course, most of these hold no truth. Most of these are only mere stories to quell the anxieties of sailors, or to provide reasoning to strange occurrences seemingly otherwise unexplainable.

Sirens are, unfortunately, the exception.

Ruthless, ravenous creatures—they’re the worst fear of any sailor who knows the worth of his own life, and like most things that make mortal men afraid, they’ve been transformed into weapons.

Soap only knows that sirens are real because of what happens to many prisoners at sea—from the brig they’re moved to rowboats without paddles, abandoned and forced to sing until the sirens appear to lure them into the water, where flesh would be torn from bone with razor sharp teeth.

It’s a terrifying sight. The creatures are like sharks called to blood with the way they appear, like piranhas with the way they feast.

It’s horrifying. Fascinating. And Soap has vowed to never let himself end up on one of those boats.

But alas. Fate has other plans for him.

Soap had been reluctant to join the crew of Captain Philip Graves when presented with the opportunity, but the pay promised had been good, the work simple, and the destination somewhere he’s never been.

But what Soap hadn’t realized is that Graves likes to take prisoners. He likes to engage in unfair combat with other ships, and operates almost like a pirate, though not explicitly enough to be considered one himself.

Soap realizes his mistake far too late when he wanders down to the brig one night, otherwise unable to sleep. They’re two weeks into their voyage by now, and Soap knows there’s people in the jail—but he hadn’t known the state of them.

Most already without a secure amount of food outside their makeshift cell, they’re emaciated, wasting away in the hull of the vessel. They’re barely responsive when Soap knocks on the bars of the hold and pokes someone’s damp shoulder. Someone weakly latches onto Soap’s sleeve and begs for nothing in particular, and he feels awful for not having known about this sooner.

So he begins sneaking them food, brings them drink. Squirrels away what extra he can without anyone noticing he’s stopped finishing his meals.

Except someone must notice. Because, nearing the end of their journey, Graves is waking him in the dead of night and pulling him into the Captain’s quarters.

Soap swallows the pounding heartbeat in his throat as Graves slowly crosses the room to take a seat at his desk. He’s never liked the man, not one bit—but this just feels unnecessary. Taunting.

“A little bird tells me you’ve been keeping our prisoners fed,” Graves drawls. “Even though, from what I recall, prisoners are the enemy. I don’t suppose you really have been helping them out, have you, MacTavish?”

It’s a trap, Soap knows. Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell Graves’s question isn’t really a question at all. Graves has his answer, and waits on Soap’s response if only to entertain him with the idea of escape.

Soap knows just as well that there’s hardly a point in trying to lie.

He lifts his chin as he looks straight into Graves’s eyes to tell him, “I have been. They’re still people.”

Graves chuckles lowly, rising from his seat. He rounds the desk, sitting back on its edge with his arms folded across his chest.

It might be intimidating, if Soap were anyone else. If he were a lesser man.

“Well, then—since you like ‘em so much,” Graves says, “surely you won’t mind joining them.”

Soap supplies Graves with no visible reaction. He doesn’t fight as Graves calls for his men to throw Soap in the brig, doesn’t put up any fuss as they try to cajole him.

If Soap has to be imprisoned for doing what’s right, then he at least won’t let Graves have the satisfaction of knowing Soap’s internal panic.

Because Soap knows what Graves plans to do with his prisoners. He’s known all along.

He predicts they’re maybe a day from port when they’re shoved off the ship and ordered into the decaying rowboat, left to drift away—not too far, however, as they’re still tethered to the ship. Because once all prisoners have been drowned, the boat will be reeled back and used again the next time Graves and his crew venture out to terrorize the waters.

No one has the energy to sing, to lure their cruel punishment to them. Soap’s half-convinced some of the others might just jump into the water on their own.

But they have to sing. Especially when a bullet ricochets off the boat and splinters the wood as encouragement.

Despite his time spent out at sea, Soap isn’t overly familiar with many shanties. He just follows along with whatever is mumbled in a weak tune, dreading as the volume builds with a second bullet, and the water below begins to churn. Glancing over the edge, Soap swears he sees the flash of a tail.

The first one appears shortly, singing along to the song like she’s entirely familiar with the melody. Soap feels the pull, though perhaps not as strongly as he imagined he would, if ever he ended up in these circumstances.

He wonders, briefly and distantly, if it has to do with the fact that he’s not really all that into women.

Soap snorts. Wouldn’t that be something.

But as more sirens appear, the pull grows stronger. Soap begins to feel swayed by the song, gone from muttered and off-kilter to something beautiful, hypnotic. The boat bobs with the weight of their new company and the prisoners that rush to the sides to get a better look at the sirens as if they aren’t the dangerous creatures they’re known to be.

Still, though, Soap isn’t completely compelled to join them in the water. He stays put in the centre and grounds his teeth—though he does gasp and reach out when the first prisoner is pulled under, and red soon blossoms across the surface of the water.

Then he appears.

The whole world seems to disappear for just a moment, when Soap looks into big, brown eyes.

The siren’s voice is deeper than the rest, soothing, and though Soap’s hindbrain screams at him that hidden behind the enchanting exterior, the porcelain skin and the straw-blond hair, there lives evil—he can’t help but lean in.

As Soap gets closer, the boat continuing to rock as more prisoners fall victim, the siren’s singing pauses just long enough for him to offer Soap a smile, saccharine, close-lipped. He reaches out an arm to Soap, calloused fingers caressing Soap’s cheek, cupping his jaw.

Soap can’t help but melt into the touch, its simultaneous warmth and coolness, subconsciously chasing it as it retracts, eyes fluttering shut with a short, pleased sigh.

But with the singing fading from the others, Soap’s eyes suddenly snap open. The siren still holds him, still leads Soap with that gentle touch and deceptively kind gaze, but Soap resists. He doesn’t know when he’d gotten to leaning halfway over the edge of the boat, but he scrambles backward to the opposite side, as far as he can get from this siren.

Soap comes to the startling realization that he’s the only one left.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” the siren croons. He props himself up on the edge of the boat, arms thick with corded muscle to show the real power of this creature. He leans forward, the boat tilting with his added weight. “I don’t bite.”

Soap glances nervously about the empty rowboat, gaze accidentally straying the bloodstained waters that surround them.

“I beg to differ,” Soap says weakly.

The siren laughs softly before slowly sinking back into the water. The boat sways. Soap shakes.

Everything goes silent for a suspiciously long moment before there’s a disturbance in the water and the siren appears at the side of the boat where Soap has taken refuge. He’s singing quietly again and Soap feels that pull, so he moves away, screws his eyes shut, and jams his fingers in his ears in an attempt to block it out.

It doesn’t work, not when the singing gets louder, and Soap’s attempt is rendered useless.

“Shut up,” Soap growls. “Please just shut. Up.”

The singing does cease, though only to make way for a deep, full laughter that is somehow tugging on Soap’s conscience with more force than any melody so far.

When Soap blinks his eyes open, the siren is perched on the edge of the boat, arms splayed one on top of the other, his head resting over them. He’s smiling, even once his laughter has died down, a glint of something in his dark eyes—maybe not quite sinister, but certainly mischievous.

“They’re not letting you back on that ship, you know,” the siren says, as if it isn’t obvious. “So you can either come with me—“

“And what? Be drowned? Eaten?” Soap snaps. “Thanks, but I’d rather rot right here.”

“Suit yourself,” the siren hums.

To Soap’s surprise, he actually disappears back into the water. And despite the waves—the ocean seems to have finally calmed.

Maybe Soap did have the tiny, illogical hope that he’d be brought back to the ship. Maybe Soap did have the tiny, logical hope that this siren would just put him out of his misery.

Either way, now he just sits in silence, listening to waves lap up against the hull as the rowboat rocks lazily with the current. Though the peace surely only stretches on for a few minutes, it feels like hours.

Stupidly, Soap goes to inspect the depths. To make certain he’s really been left alone.

Because that’s when he’s pulled in.

Soap barely has time to yell out before his mouth is filled with the overwhelming, stinging taste of salt, unfamiliar arms wrapping securely around his frame so he can’t wriggle free. His shouts are muffled by the water, and he feels the cold soak into his bones as he’s dragged deeper and deeper. The light fades, or maybe it’s the lack of oxygen.

The last thing Soap sees is the siren’s grin, all fangs and malice before everything goes black.

But then, after an unknown amount of time—Soap wakes up to the slow drip, drip, drip of water on a stone floor.

He’s in a cave.

He’s in a cave, and there’s a light source somewhere, and the siren is watching him.

Soap coughs, clearing water from his lungs. He chokes out, “Why… what did you—“

The siren shrugs. “I don’t eat people I like.”

Soap frowns, still coughing. “You…”

“Call me Ghost,” the siren says, then dives into the pool he’d been wading in at the entrance of the cave, and swims away—long, elegant tail flicking behind him as he leaves.

And while many, many thought swirl around Soap’s head as he gradually gathers his bearings about the situation, the clearest of them all is also the simplest; what the hell kind of a name is Ghost?

If only he could guess.

And if only he could know what’s meant to happen to him next.

#ask #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #soapghost #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #ghoap #alternate universe #writing

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doumadono · 6 months

Note

THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME REQUEST can you do mizu x reader smut but where she calls reader a brat somewhere in the mix that scene jst had me head over heels 😭🙏

Warnings: smut - fingering, 69, rough oral, overstimulation, fem!Reader

Synopsis: you and Mizu enjoy some steamy moments together, having grown deeply fond of each other

OTHER FANDOMS MASTERLIST

Mizu's days were consumed by the relentless pursuit of her quest for vengeance, her every waking moment dedicated to honing her skills as a swordmaster. The path she tread was a solitary one, until a chance encounter changed the course of her journey.

It was on a misty morning in a secluded training ground nestled among ancient cherry blossoms that Mizu first crossed blades with you, a skilled swordswoman with a spirit as fierce as her own.

Your meeting was a clash of steel and determination, the air buzzing with the intensity of their training.

Mizu, her blue eyes gleaming with a mixture of determination and surprise, locked eyes with you after a particularly fierce exchange. "You fight well," Mizu acknowledged, a rare compliment from the stoic warrior.

You, your gaze unwavering, replied with a smirk, "Not bad yourself. But I've seen the fire in your eyes. There's more to your story than the strikes of a sword. Care to share?"

Mizu hesitated, her guard momentarily dropping. The pain of her past flickered in her eyes before she composed herself. "I seek revenge for a great injustice. That's it, nothing more, nothing less. My blade is my only companion on this path."

You nodded understandingly. "Well, it doesn't hurt to have a sparring partner on such a lonely journey. How about we help each other? I can see the weight you carry, and I've got my own demons to face."

From that day forward, your and Mizu's training sessions became a harmonious dance of steel and camaraderie. In the quiet moments between strikes, you shared stories of your pasts, creating a bond that transcended the limits of your swords.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow on the cherry blossoms, Mizu spoke thoughtfully, "I never thought I'd find a companion on this path. You've made the journey less lonely, Y/N."

You smiled, twirling your sword skillfully, hiding it in a scabbard. "Likewise, Mizu. We're stronger together. And vengeance is a heavy burden; it's easier to carry when you're not alone."

As the weeks passed, Mizu and you journeyed together through diverse landscapes, your paths entwined in a tapestry of shared experiences. What started as a companionship forged in the crucible of training gradually evolved into a deep and genuine fondness for each other.

The road you traveled was not just a physical journey but a shared odyssey of emotions and revelations. In the quiet moments beneath starlit skies and during the challenges you faced side by side, a connection grew, fortified by the understanding that only time and shared trials could foster.

Mizu, with her unwavering spirit, became not just a fellow warrior but a cherished presence in your own journey.

The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a soft glow over Mizu and you as you sat by a crackling campfire. The dancing flames mirrored the flickering emotions in Mizu's blue eyes as she turned to her companion. "Y/N," Mizu began, her voice steady but with a hint of vulnerability, "we've shared so much, but I've never asked about the demons that haunt you. What burdens do you carry?"

The air grew heavy with the unspoken weight of the past as Mizu waited for you to open up.

The flames flickered, casting shadows on your face as memories resurfaced. "I come from a village that was razed to the ground by marauders. I lost my family, my home. The flames took everything. That's why I picked up the sword, Mizu. I wanted to be strong, to never feel that powerless again."

Mizu listened intently, sensing the weight of your words. She understood well. As you spoke, memories of the burning hut flashed before Mizu's eyes, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine.

Despite your efforts to maintain composure, a tear traced a silent path down your cheek, glistening in the firelight.

Mizu reached out, gently wiping away the tear with her thumb. "You've carried this burden alone for too long," she whispered. "You're not alone anymore."

Trembling, you nodded, a mixture of gratitude and relief in your eyes.

Mizu pulled you into a comforting embrace, and for a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound in the still night as you shared the weight of your sorrows.

You shivered at Mizu's touch. You wanted to lean in and feel Mizu's arms around you oh so badly.

Mizu shook her head. "It's the past, Y/N. And from now on, I'll be protecting you. I'll be by your side."

"You… you'd actually want to be seen with me?" you uttered in astonishment, your gaze fixed on Mizu. "But why? I'm not exactly a sight to behold, and you're so stunning… People might ridicule you for choosing to be with someone like me…"

Mizu chuckled softly, a gentle sound that resonated with warmth. She looked you in the eyes, her ice blue ones stern. "You know," she began, her eyes softening, "I don't see myself as a pretty woman. Beauty is subjective, and in my eyes, you shine in a way that captivates me. Your uniqueness, the way you carry yourself — it's incredibly appealing to me. I see you as someone with a beauty that goes far beyond what meets the eye."

The heat built between your legs. Your nipples strained against the fabric, yearning for connection, as the allure of those soft, ripe lips of hers enticed you. The closeness felt magnetic, and the desire to kiss overwhelmed you. Yet, instead, a deep blush crept across your cheeks, and you looked away, your emotions entangled in a web of confusion.

Mizu gently tilted your face up, leaning in as her lips brushed softly over yours, capturing the taste of salt from recent tears. A soft moan escaped your lips as Mizu drew you closer, fulfilling a secret daydream of yours.

Uncharacteristically eager, Mizu allowed her desires to guide her actions. Her hands explored beneath your attire, caressing your breasts, as the anticipation of pleasure hung thick in the air. With deliberate intent, she undid the ribbon at the back of your garment, letting it slip off your shoulders. Her hungry gaze lingered on your firm, ripe breasts, and Mizu, unable to resist the temptation, lowered her head to eagerly suckle on a taut nipple.

You let out a quiet moan and arched your back and moaned, tangling your fingers in the black tresses that now cascaded over you.

Mizu worshipped your breasts, taking turns licking, sucking and nibbling the nipples in turn, humming quietly as she did.

You pulled back, eyes glowing with passion. "Please, let me taste you, Mizu…"

Mizu grinned playfully and gracefully rose to her feet, treating her new lover to a tantalizing strip tease.

In absolute awe, you observed every move, your body pulsating with desire as she shed her clothes.

Mizu reclined on the futon beside the fireplace, her legs invitingly parted.

Feeling a mix of anticipation and hesitation, you undressed, eventually finding yourself kneeling between Mizu's open legs.

A moan escaped Mizu as she took in the full, lush view of your body. "Oh, Y/N, you are so beautiful," she whispered, the words hanging in the air, deepening the intimacy of the moment.

You spoke not a word. Your touch was the language, as you tenderly caressed Mizu's wetness, delicately parting the folds like the petals of a dew-kissed flower. Your mouth descended upon Mizu's throbbing clit, moving languidly, intoxicated by the explosion of her taste on your eager, flexed tongue.

Mizu responded with fervent writhing and moans, her body arching to bring her wetness even closer to your exploring mouth. With a graceful shift, she positioned herself to reciprocate, her command cutting through the stillness. "Sit on my face," Mizu directed, the bold request hanging in the air, a testament to the unspoken connection that unfolded between you.

Your attention remained solely on savoring her cunt, rendering you momentarily unresponsive to her command. You lapped at her wetness with your tongue, a low moan escaping as her juices cascaded over your taste buds. Sucking on your fingers to heighten the intensity, you skillfully slipped them into her, moving with a swift rhythm that reflected the urgency of your desire.

Her inner walls responded with spasmodic contractions, eagerly clenching around your digits. Mizu huffed with a tinge of frustration and seized a handful of your hair, giving it a gentle tug. "Come on, Y/N, don't be a brat. I asked for something, and I expect you to comply."

Responding with a small kiss to her entrance, you gazed up at her, your lips wet with her jucies, nodding in acknowledgment. Gradually, you positioned yourself, placing both knees on either side of her head, and descended onto her face. Leaning forward, you resumed your passionate exploration of her slick folds with your tongue.

Mizu let out a sultry moan as she felt your lips enveloping her clit yet again, your gentle suction drawing it into the warmth of your mouth. Her gaze wandered to your pussy right in front of her eyes, captivated by the sight of your pouty lips and the glistening juices there. With a bold move, she slid a skilled finger inside you, caressing tenderly, teasingly. Her expert tongue flickered around your clit, leaving you breathless and panting.

In response, you cried out her name, initiating a dance of desire as you pressed two fingers inside Mizu's pussy. Your skilled suction on her clit mirrored the tormenting rhythm of your fingers and occassional rubbing of your thumb against her already swollen clit.

Mizu's tongue glided slowly over your clit, dipping into your slit with a probing and searching motion; its tip constantly hitting your little bundle of nerves.

You moaned in response, enticing her with the movement of your hips, shaking your ass to amplify the friction and intensify the pleasure. "More, Mizu, holy shit!"

You luxuriated in that position for what felt like endless, blissful minutes, indulging in the intimate exchange as you both savored the taste of each other's pussies.

Mizu propped herself up on one elbow, her other hand gently parting the lips of your pussy. With tenderness, she licked you, the tip of her tongue tracing either side of your clit, humming appreciatively at the delightful taste.

Your hands reached up around her ass, pulling her cheeks apart as you wholeheartedly massaged her cunt with your mouth. In the height of pleasure, your actions were instinctual, allowing the waves of ecstasy to roll through you, leaing you moaning like a whore. Your tongue and jaws moved in perfect reaction, each dart of her tongue into you provoking a corresponding spasm of pleasure in your own mouth.

Together, you both writhed in ecstasy, voices merging in a passionate chorus of moans that echoed the intensity of your shared passion.

Releasing your hold on Mizu's ass, you wrapped your arms around her waist, drawing her core closer to your face. Playfully pushing her to the side, both of you shared a moment of giggles, eventually settling on your sides, maintaining the 69 position.

The sensations were nothing short of incredible. Mizu squirmed with delight, her tongue delving deep to partake in your drenched cunny, creating ripples of passion that surged throughout your body.

Unable to contain yourself, you cried out, "M-Mizu!!!" as her quick, skillful licks over your swollen clit sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your entire being, leaving your legs shaking. "I-I, God! T-Too much!!! Oh God, I can't!!!" you whined again, arching your back, trying to grind your pussy against her face for more friction.

She gently spanked your ass a few times. "Shush, you little, horny brat," the black-haired woman grunted lowly. "Let me have my fun with you."

You extended your arm between her legs, skillfully opening her wide, allowing one leg to hover tantalizingly over you. With your other hand deftly maneuvering between the two of you, you spread her pussy open even more.

Her head shifted against your inner thigh, repurposed as a comfortable pillow in the midst of this intimate exchange.

Your face was fully immersed in the warmth of her pussy, while she reciprocated with her face pressed into yours. In a passionate exchange, you both moved and thrust against each other, building up a frenzied rhythm that heightened the intensity of the moment.

Mizu's primal grunts mixed with your fervent whimpers, the symphony of your pleasure rising in frequency and pitch. In the midst of waves and layers of ecstasy, you both reached the climax together, as one. The culmination was so profound, so all-encompassing, as you came intensely, repeatedly, in a cascade of bliss. A deluge of intoxicating girl-cum cascaded over your mouths and faces, seamlessly blending with the ongoing grinding and spasms.

"Oh, you dirty, little brat, you're gonna be a death of me one day," Mizu playfully nibbled on your clit, making you whine pathetically.

Gradually, the sweet and gentle descent from the peak began. Your passion waned, bodies winding down, experiencing little aftershocks of orgasm like sparks in your muscles. Rolling backward, you and Mizu separated, lying prone on your backs, side by side, heads to toes, in a shared moment of tranquil aftermath, breathig heavily.

Soon Mizu, holding you with a newfound protectiveness, traced gentle strokes through your Y/H/C hair and whispered softly, "Did I make you feel good?"

Nestled against Mizu like a contented kitten, you looked up with a happy smile. "Yes… It was perfect."

A tender kiss on your temple followed as Mizu yawned heavily. "I think I fell in love with you… We've shared so much, and being close to you felt so good, so right, as if something just clicked together."

"Indeed," you whispered in agreement, resting your head on Mizu's breasts, eyes slipping closed. The surreal feeling of it all being real overwhelmed you. Sleep embraced you, and this time, there were no dreams; there was no need, as everything you had recently dreamt about was already cradled in your arms.

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